Saturday, May 8. 2010
Tamil Nadu, India. You can read about this scenic ride here, and how the trains handle the 1:12 grades. Take a ride, and see a bit of India:
Friday, May 7. 2010
In US,
...a record 41 percent of births were to unmarried women in 2008. That's up from 28 percent in 1990...
The other day, somebody grimly commented to me that "marriage is roommates raising children." Meanwhile, the Pope praises marital and family love.
Thursday, May 6. 2010
 Ah, there the two of you are: The cat and dog lovers. I can hear you two arguing from here. Cats are smarter than dogs. Dogs are smarter than cats. Cats are smarter. Dogs are smarter. Cats. Dogs. Cats. Dogs. And now some guy's claiming his PIG is smarter! Pretty boring, really. At least, after you've owned the kind of pet I've owned.
Continue reading "The Challenge"
"...four-year institutions of higher education (IHEs) graduate less than 60 percent of their students in six years..."
So what? Given how lax American higher ed has become in requirements and expectations, I am surprised it's below 60%. Apparently, historically, American graduation rates have never been very high.
Quickest way to increase grad rates would be to simply sell degrees, or to hand them out for free like the Wizard of Oz.
Now I do realize that a "college degree" no longer necessarily means a Liberal Arts degree as proof that one has mastered a language or two, calculus, sciences, masterworks of philosophy, theology, and literature, etc: many colleges today entail various combinations of remedial education, high-school level coursework, and job training. Flunking out is a thing of the past, so lots of folks must just figure it's not worth the trouble. They could be right.
It's a bit technical, but the legal doctrine of "honest services" is, in my opinion, hopelessly and dangerously vague. Too close to a government power to prosecute anybody you don't like.
Wednesday, May 5. 2010
Want to get serious about trying to achieve some of your goals and dreams? Be the one who doesn't eat the marshmallow. h/t, reader:
A reader recently reminded us that the Puritans had two kinds of "callings", the "general calling" to God and a secondary calling to labor.
Thus work was not seen as being about ethics, but as somewhat - or very much - sanctified. All honest work, after all, is a form of service.
The pop view of our Puritan ancestors is distorted, and a bit of a straw man. Grace Baptist has a good post on Puritans and work. He refers to what looks like an interesting book: Worldly Saints: The Puritans as They Really Were.
Tuesday, May 4. 2010
Not that I do not love boats with sails, but a basic recreational boat with the old Lobster Boat design pleases me.
Why do they thrive? From David Brooks:
What matters are historical experiences, cultural attitudes, child-rearing practices, family formation patterns, expectations about the future, work ethics and the quality of social bonds.
Researchers have tried to disaggregate the influence of these soft factors and have found it nearly impossible. All we can say for sure is that different psychological, cultural and social factors combine in myriad ways to produce different viewpoints. As a result of these different viewpoints, the average behavior is different between different ethnic and geographic groups, leading to different life outcomes.
Taking offense, these days, seems to confer the moral authority of sacred victimhood rather than to identify one as a hypersensitive twit, as a disguised bully, or as a manipulative schemer.
I don't know how that happened, but two can play: Offense works both ways.
A new Tom Lehrer DVD. The promo video with interview isn't embeddable, but it's here.
A new Cormac McCarthy, The Road. I didn't realize he had a new one (h/t, SDA). I read all of his stuff. Does he still live in a fleabag motel in New Mexico?
Monday, May 3. 2010
Everything is as green as can be, and my Wisteria is coming into bloom. Yes, the big bridge is washed out but I am fairly sure it is getting fixed.
Entropy rules, but we do the best we can.
After church yesterday, Mrs. BD and I decided to do an inspection tour of our church cemetery. We noticed that the columbarium was in bad shape, and that some good friends had bought a nice modest granite stone for their plot. I hope they do not need it anytime soon. We also noticed that the grass is getting high and the dandelions and weeds are everywhere, but that's as it should be in a New England graveyard.
When I got home, I learned that one of my good tennis buddies had dropped dead last week, where he would have wanted to do it, on the tennis court. He had a slick, tricksy game, wonderful tennis exhuberance, and near-perfect technique: no flash, but steady as a rock. He was a professional wordsmith too.
Too soon, my friend, but that is the right way to depart. Now, nobody is left who is willing to give me those special sarcastic critiques of my flubbed shots.
Took this photo last week of what I am told is the largest sloop in the world:
Sunday, May 2. 2010
I wondered about them, anyway:
The history of the guitar in America. The six-string guitar was considered so easy to play that every stableboy could play it.
The history of the banjo. For me, the Banjo has an ominous, menacing sound. But maybe that is just me.
Photo is an 1840 French guitar from this restorer's website
Saturday, May 1. 2010
Adjusting one's insides is a lot tougher than changing one's outsides. A good post on psychotherapy: Change. One quote:
...why see a therapist? Because it is very difficult to see yourself clearly. Just as a camera cannot photograph itself except in reflection, the kinds of changes that are the heart of therapy need someone to serve as a mirror, as someone who can see and hear you without having an agenda about or for you, someone who can be caring and brutal. I can't think of anyone I know who has done that without help, including myself.
Therapy isn't about being happy, it's about honestly knowing who you are, and then picking a suitable life.
Also, a Psychiatric Manifesto via blue to blue
Friday, April 30. 2010
Last week I was at a Memorial Service where the song “Wind Beneath My Wings” was very fittingly sung about the lessons she transmitted to her family with her life.
Since, it has been running about my mind, what song would I want sung at my Memorial Service (besides “Hit The Road Jack”).
Yesterday, while driving I was listening to a local AM station that has classic songs of the ‘40s and ‘50s. I was struck by the rendition of “We’ll Meet Again”, sung by Anne Murray. As an older father, I try to communicate to my sons the optimism, positive thinking and perseverance that I have lived and believe will be central to their futures, and hope that will guide them and serve as their remembrance.
The words seem to ably sum it up:
We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some
sunny day.
Keep smiling through
Just like you always do
and Til the blue skies
Drive the dark clouds far away.
So will you please say hello
To the folks that I know.
Tell 'em I won't be long.
They'll be happy to know
That as you saw me go,
I was singin' this song.
We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some
sunny day.
So will you please say hello
To the folks that I love.
Tell 'em I won't be long.
They'll be happy to know
That as you saw me go,
I was singin' this song.
We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some
sunny day.
I know we'll meet again some sunny
day.
Research has it that the song was one of the most popular in Britain during its dark days during World War II. The songstress, Vera Lynn, “The Forces Sweetheart”, recorded the Ross Parker/Hughie Charles song in 1942 while making the film of the same name. It became one of the emblematic songs during the war.
Since, many have recorded the song. My selections below the fold -
Continue reading "We’ll Meet Again"
Thursday, April 29. 2010
Thirty-five years ago, South Vietnam fell to the communist North. Twenty-eight years ago, President Reagan addressed the British Parliament at Westminster in his famous “Ash Heap of History” speech, to where tyrants will be sent by those valiantly defending freedom.
Yesterday, I went to Orange County’s “Little Saigon”, Westminster, to attend a forum marking the 35th anniversary of the fall.
Before the forum, attendees went outside in the Sid Greenstein Freedom Park for a minute of silence before the war memorial there, the only one in the US honoring US and Vietnamese who fought together.
I knew three of the speakers well (and two others less from shared personal experiences, more as acquaintances, but major figures) from many years of collaboration and friendship to not let the Vietnamese and American sacrifices be in vain, to educate new generations in the lessons personally witnessed and learned...
Continue reading "A Tale Of Two Westminsters: 28 and 35 Years Later"
Wednesday, April 28. 2010
Tuesday, April 27. 2010
Excellent, from Daniel Pipes: In Europe, Remorse Has Turned to Masochism. He nails it. One quote:
... it is Europe’s very readiness to acknowledge its faults that prompts self-hatred, for societies that do not engage in such introspection do not lacerate themselves. Europe’s strength is thus its weakness. Although the continent has “more or less vanquished its monsters,” such as slavery, colonialism, and fascism, it chooses to dwell on the worst of its record. Thus his book’s title, The Tyranny of Guilt. The past, with its violence and aggression, is frozen in time, a burden Europeans expect never to throw off.
Related, Sowell's Misusing History: Inhumanity, like humanity, is universal.
We saw this play in NYC a year or two ago, but now it's back in town at the Westside Theater: The Screwtape Letters.
It is straight from CS Lewis' book. Mrs. BD's lady's Alpha group is going to see it together.
"After a century of épater le bourgeois, why on earth can’t le bourgeois épater l’artiste primitif? And why is the bourgeois and reactionary management of the Museum of Modern Art stifling the artistic creativity of its customers?"
The Cigar Bars and Cigar Lounges of NYC.
Plus a reminder: in NYC, despite Nanny Bloomberg, you can still abuse tobacco like an Indian a Native American in the outdoor sections of restaurants and pubs.
Monday, April 26. 2010
I mumbled briefly about Positivism last week, alluding to its potential as a fuel for hubris. No philosophy is the "cause" of human evil and destructiveness, but Human Nature is. Pure rationalism (if there is any such thing) is a frightening way to run the world, or to run anything.
This weekend, in timely fashion, I stumbled on a review of Grayling's latest screed against irrationalism by the esteemable John Gray. One quote from the thoughtful review:
Reading Grayling, it is hard to resist the impression that he believes Western civilization would be much improved if it did not include the Judeo-Christian inheritance. Absurd as it is, there is nothing new in such a claim. It is one of the most venerable clichés of Enlightenment thinking, and Ideas that Matter is a compendium of such dated prejudices. When Grayling condemns religion on the grounds that “a theory that explains everything, and can be falsified by nothing, is empty,” he takes for granted that religions are primitive theories, now rendered obsolete by science.
Sunday, April 25. 2010
 I posted this early Sunday morning:
Farm chores for my aging parents regularly pull me away from church, but this morning we trek down to NYC to meet the pup at Gascogne for a cheap brunch (I'll have the mussels - I always do when they are on a menu - and a healthy and organic Bloody Mary) before treating her to Paul Taylor ll's final day at the Joyce.
Mrs. BD is a big Taylor fan. Our blog pal Neoneo loves Taylor too. Despite being married to a dancer/choreographer for about 100 years, I remain a bit of a dance agnostic. I always did like Merce Cunningham, though, and Meredith Monk. Very quirky.
Follow-up:
It was a wonderful program from the Paul Taylor ll (the 80 year-old Taylor's 6-person touring company), but I would have been fine just seeing Esplanade. In fact, just one dance is really all my brain can process in one day. Powerful stuff, Esplanade. Substantial. Recklessly physical and driven by physical momentum, romance, and gravity and, as I sometimes say about some dances, a poem without words - or like a dream. Mrs. BD could discuss it endlessly; how his Graham background evolved and how ballet training is essential to modern dance, etc., but I lack the skill, the words, and the knowledge. The dance is in my head, though, along with the Bach.
Brunch was good, too. Free Bloody Marys. And it is always a treat to spend some time with the Bird Dog pupette Wall Streeter who returned to work after the performance. Those folks work on weekends, keeping the engines of capitalism humming so that people have money to support Paul Taylor.
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