Wednesday, April 2, 2008

In search of lost objects

Words of wisdom, sort of:

There are no missing objects. Only unsystematic searchers.
Findologist Professor Solomon has made his How to Find Lost Objects available as a free .pdf.

I've heard of Professor Solomon's 18-inch rule (objects "tend to travel no more than eighteen inches from their original location") and have found it genuinely useful when looking for things like keys, Moleskines, pens, and wallets.

How to Find Lost Objects (.pdf, 5.2 MB) (via Quo Vadis Blog)

LETS PLAY TWO

My friend Stefan Hagemann sends news of a missing apostrophe, missing from a statue honoring Chicago Cub Ernie Banks. The exhortation on the statue's base — "LETS PLAY TWO" — comes from Banks' catchphrase: "It's a beautiful day for a ballgame. Let's play two."

Sculptor Lou Cella: "I'm the sculptor; I'm not a writer. I just read it the way I heard it in my head."

Cella's added an apostrophe, in the right place too.

(Thanks, Stefan!)

Related posts
A semicolon in the news
Spelling in the news (Eistein, Michaelangelo, and Shakespere)

Texting and exiting

There's a curious story in Inside Higher Ed today about Laurence Thomas, a philosophy professor at Syracuse University who ends class and walks out if he sees a student texting. He recently followed one such exit with an e-mail to administrators and his students, expressing his frustration with the lack of respect his students give him. And then he said something more: "he noted that the student who sent the text message is Cuban, and that last year, two Latino students had started to play tic-tac-toe during his class."

But Professor Thomas is no cranky, backwards white guy:

While Thomas noted that white students are also rude, he expressed frustration that — especially as a minority scholar himself — he would be treated in this way. "One might have thought that for all the talk about racism and the good of social equality, non-white students would be particularly committed to respecting a black professor," Thomas wrote.
In his e-mail, Thomas went on to describe himself as a believer "in principles of right and wrong that transcend every race/ethnicity and sexual identity."

There are at least two problems here. One: if Thomas believes in principles that transcend differences of color and ethnicity, the ethnicity of his texting and tic-tac-toe-playing students should be irrelevant. Two: a professorial practice that holds all students responsible for the actions of one is unreasonable. If I were a serious student in Professor Thomas' class, I'd find the texting and tic-tac-toe (tic-tac-toe!) ridiculous. But I'd also find Professor Thomas' dramatic exits insulting and alienating, and far more troubling that my classmates' cluelessness.

A simpler strategy when a someone is texting in class: ask the offending student to put away the phone. If it happens again, ask the student to leave. And if a cellphone rings in class, do what I do: groove to the music for ten seconds or so, head bobbing, fingers snapping — it's always music, never a ring — while the silliness of the situation has a chance to sink in and someone shuts off a phone. And then get back to what you were doing.

Related post
Proust and the finger-snapping bit (with Duke Elllington's advice on finger-snapping)

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Boilermakers

What with all the overtures to the (so-called) working-class voter in Pennsylvania, the conversation on MSNBC's Hardball this afternoon turned to boilermakers. None of the four assembled talking heads seemed to know exactly what a boilermaker is.

From Merriam-Webster Online: "whiskey with a beer chaser." That's the only boilermaker I've ever heard of (or drank).

From the Oxford English Dictionary: "a shot of whisky followed immediately by (or occas. combined with) a glass of beer." Combined with? Yes.

And then there's Wikipedia, whose boilermaker entry is a headache-making catalogue of variations.

I just remembered that one of the great scenes in On the Waterfront (1954, dir. Elia Kazan) includes boilermakers. Here, courtesy of YouTube, are Marlon Brando (Terry Malloy) and Eva Marie Saint (Edie Doyle), with "two Glockenheimers and two for chasers": "Dink."

Related post
A boilermaker, sort of, in the news

Google introduces gDay™ technology

New technology from Google:

The core technology that powers gDay™ is MATE™ (Machine Automated Temporal Extrapolation).

Using MATE’s™ machine learning and artificial intelligence techniques developed in Google’s Sydney offices, we can construct elements of the future.
Read more: gDay™ with MATE™ (Google)

Is there a pencil in The House?

Whoso would be a G-Man must be a pencil user, as Emerson might have put it.¹ The pencil is the FBI's writing instrument of choice in The House on 92nd Street (1945, directed by Henry Hathaway), a movie whose interiors seem to have been furnished by a pencil fanatic. Pencils are the tools of counter-espionage in this movie: we see glassfuls in various work areas, and again and again we see the Dixon Ticonderoga, always the Dixon Ticonderoga, in government hands. (The ferrule, with its three dark bands, is the giveaway.)

I have no idea whether The House on 92nd Street is accurate in its depiction of pencil-wielding FBI agents. But the depiction is plausible. Unlike a fountain pen, a pencil is ready to write without priming. It has no cap to unscrew and keep track of. It cannot skip or clog or leak. It remains available for sporadic notetaking without drying out. Its lifespan is always visible: one will never be surprised by unexpectedly running out of ink (or, as with a mechanical pencil, out of lead). If a point breaks, it can be resharpened, or another pencil can substitute. The plainness of the wooden pencil — just doing my unglamorous job, ma'am — seems to fit the G-Man ethos.²

"Well, I guess that's all": a G-Man posing as a Civil Defense worker pockets his Ticonderoga.



Distinguished physicist Dr. Arthur C. Appleton (John McKee) uses a Dixon Ticonderoga to do some calculations concerning Process 97.



Inspector George A. Briggs (Lloyd Nolan) is Inspector Dixon Ticonderoga himself. He never uses his desk sets (yes, he has more than one, as we'll see), just pencils. Note the ferrule of the pencil in his hand.



Dixon Ticonderoga noir! Five more pencils wait on the notepad. Great phone and film projector too.



Two desk sets, two rocking blotters (!), and two pencils, one Dixon Ticonderoga and one anonymous. Inspector Briggs holds a page with some of the details of Process 97, which seems to be the secret process for making a snowman.



¹ From "Self-Reliance": "Whoso would be a man must be a nonconformist."

² The ballpoint pen wasn't for sale in the United States until October 1945, after the movie's release.

Related posts
The dowdy world on film
Film noir pencils
Musical-comedy pencils
Pocket notebook sighting: The House on 92nd Street
Q and A
The real Mr. T (A Dixon Ticonderoga spokespencil)
Young woman with a pencil

And at Pencil Revolution, a photo-essay on some old Castell 9000s: Serious pencils indeed.

Monday, March 31, 2008

Dell response to the MacBook Air

MacBook Air Parody (YouTube)

The music is "New Soul" by Yael Naim.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Kahil El'Zabar's Ritual Trio with Hamiet Bluiett


[Photographs by Elaine Fine.]

Last night I was fortunate to hear an extraordinary musical performance by Kahil El'Zabar's Ritual Trio with Hamiet Bluiett. If these names aren't familiar, there's a reason why: they belong to musicians associated with Chicago's Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians and St. Louis' Black Artists' Group, musicians dedicated to exploring new directions in music. At a time when what passes for contemporary jazz has grown ever more bland and feeble, a performance such as last night's is one to cherish.

El'Zabar is a percussionist, but "percussionist" doesn't begin to account for the range of sounds he brings to the bandstand. When he wasn't at his drum kit, he played an African drum, a wooden flute, or a mbira, stomping time with bells and shells strapped to one leg. He sang and preached a bit too, and provided wordless vocal accompaniment to the other musicians.

The other musicians: Ari Brown's piano recalled McCoy Tyner at times, and his tenor saxophone sound was rich and handsome, putting me in mind of Clifford Jordan. Hamiet Bluiett's sound on baritone saxophone is a wonder, the only baritone sound to rival that of Harry Carney of the Duke Ellington orchestra. Bluiett is fleet and full at the depths of his instrument's range, and he reaches into a piercing high register that Adolphe Sax could never have imagined on the baritone. Brown and Bluiett play both "outside" (atonally) and "inside" (tonally), moving with ease from one kind of playing to the other. And the bassist — I now regret not taking notes last night, as I cannot remember the name of the young bassist with the group. What I best remember of his playing though is the way he locked into deep grooves with El'Zabar, who stood just inches away playing mbira and bells. [February 2017: I now know the bassist's name: Sharay Reed.]

The tunes: "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child," played freely and with a walking bass line. "Oof," "Big M," and "Malachi," three tributes to the late Malachi Favors, bassist for the Art Ensemble of Chicago and the Ritual Trio, and El'Zabar's teacher. Ari Brown's "Where Do You Want to Go?," a particularly strong tenor solo. And for an encore, Miles Davis' "All Blues," with horns, bass, mbira, and bells.

The interplay among these musicians was profound — constant eye contact, constant encouragement, even an occasional request for help. Brown, laughing, to Bluiett: "Help me out," and the two horns began a dialogue. These four men formed a musical community, one that grew to include their listeners. I don't think I've ever seen as many members of an audience standing and waiting to thank musicians as I did last night.

The remarkable thing: this performance was free, offered in the lobby of the University of Illinois' Krannert Center.

[Note to Elaine: I'm so glad you enjoyed this concert.]

Kahil El'Zabar (Official website)

Related posts
Some have gone and some remain
World Saxophone Quartet on YouTube

All Orange Crate Art jazz posts (via Pinboard)

Poor Proust

"I saw, to my horror, an artfully worn, older-than-me copy of Proust by Samuel Beckett. If there existed a more hackneyed, achingly obvious method of telegraphing one's education, literary standards and general intelligence, I couldn't imagine it."
Augusten Burroughs, quoted in a New York Times article on reading habits and dating.

All Proust posts (via Pinboard)

Saturday, March 29, 2008

The "Arts"

I received a mass-mailing yesterday asking me to write a check to support the "'Arts.'"

Do people who really care about music, painting, poetry, theater refer to the "'Arts'"?

(Why single and double quotation marks in these sentences? To make clear that quotation marks surround Arts in the original.)

Related reading
The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks