Thursday, July 3, 2014

Leading a Horse to Water and Making It Drink



July 3, 2014
Two Quotations, Two Derivative Propositions, a Story

“Good teachers know that now, in what's called the civilized world,  the great enemy of knowledge isn't ignorance,  though ignorance will do in a pinch. The great enemy of knowledge is knowingness.”  Mark Edmundson, Why Teach? In Defense of a Real Education 

“The most troubling assumption in the McCullen ruling is not that anti-choice protesters have a right to speak — no one contests that they have this right — but that they have the right to an audience that can’t escape them.” Katie McDonough, “Scotus gives women the middle finger”

***

What do I know, but the two propositions and the story:

        1.    Knowingness is a form of fanaticism, a preacher declaring “I don’t have to listen to
        you, but you have to listen to me” because I know.
        2.    Knowingness says, “Because I know, you have to listen.” Knowingness will not only
        seek an audience; whenever it can, it will, like a fifth grade teacher, coerce one.

Hyde Park
I’m trying to recall where I acquired this mental picture, under which there are two labels: “Hyde Park” and “Free Speech” I think from a visit to London when I was four or, maybe, five, because that’s how old I was when we were first there. Moreover, it is the kind of picture my father liked to paint for me; it was something he would have wanted me to see while we were there, however old I was, four or five, or two or twelve.
          A wiry, wire-haired man in a black suit, a white shirt, a black tie, unbalanced on an overturned orange crate, dancing like a marionette, orating. He can say anything he wants anything at all; he can dance it on the edge of his box; he sing it at the top of his lungs; he can sign it as if we were deaf, also as loud as he can. 
          Dad points him out: “Let’s go over there, okay?” I take his hand, because if we’re going, I want over there" to know I am with him. We join five or six others (all grown-ups) that have stopped to listen. Some talk back.  I hold onto Dad’s hand. After a few minutes, he looks down at me. “Enough?” he says quietly, so I can hear but not to disturb anyone else. He reads my face, and says, “Enough.” We move on.
          As I remember, he buys me an ice cream cone, because ice cream cones help you remember.

f
 

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Uncle Albert in a Can





François VI, Duc de La Rochefoucauld,
Prince de Marcillac
  (1613 – 1680)
July 1, 2014
Le Duc
  
Uncle Albert writes:

Ah, my favorite nephew,

The weather continues unseasonable, inside and out; sometimes the house lags behind the yard, and sometimes the yard runs behind the house. It rains outside but not in; the sun shines inside but not out; the heat and the cold can’t decide.
            I am not sure why La Rochefoucauld continues to give such pleasure; but we should take our pleasures where we find them. They are few enough, especially compared to our woes, when we add to the real those we imagine. And, the pleasures are fewer as we get older.

v:42
            Nous n’avons pas assez de force pour suivre toute notre raison.

Roughly:
                                                                                  We’re not strong enough to follow our reason without fail.

So, I take it, we shouldn’t expect to. Moreover, we should not only make allowances for our failures in reason, we should also consider what else we might follow: intuition? sentiment? desire? unreason?
            Or, in any given situation, we might simply shrug: “I’m not going to figure this out. So what?” Then, again, there are options: walk away; slice through the knot (or find someone that can); blow a raspberry; get drunk; hire a prostitute; both – get drunk and hire a prostitute; give into our anxieties; weep uncontrollably; take a colonic.
            It helps to have alternatives. And your choice in any given instance will not change history. Likely, it won’t change your own course, if it doesn’t lead you to fall into a pattern. Don’t fall into a pattern, my dear young friend.
            Rather, another alternative before you in every case: Be contradictory. Make sure you don’t fall, or haven’t already fallen, into a pattern. Patterns are frightening, for two reasons. We’re unaware of them. Or, we see them where they do not exist.

My maunderings as always not for your edification but amusement.

Your poor dead mother’s ancient friend,

[signed] Albert


Other posts starring Uncle A.: