Clive James, reviewing a biography of Philip Larkin in last week’s NY Times, says the following: “Larkin spoke and wrote the allusive, indirect and ironic tongue of the British literary world. In a time that grows more literal-minded almost as fast as it grows less literary, a tongue in the cheek will always need translating, especially to Americans, who expect honesty.” Ouch! This is in regard to Larkin calling subscribers to his first collection “the sucker list”.
I make no comment.
Amidst all the triviality and madness, I just want to say that the death of Chalky White in Boardwalk Empire, and what led up to it, was the most beautiful piece of acting I’ve seen all year. Michael Kenneth Williams, who plays (played) Chalky, acted the man’s final hour with such restraint, depth of feeling, and intelligence that you felt lifted out of your seat. His facial expression as he closed his eyes and faced the firing squad, hearing the voice of his beloved singing in his head, was so subtle and yet so powerful, seeming to contain all the goodness and evil of the world. He made being shot in a back alley in Harlem into a moment of supreme human transcendence. Chalky, I will miss you.
After some delay, my book on human evolution and the hand is in production at MIT, title Prehension: A Philosophical Anthropology. I expect it to be published in fall 2015. As it happens, the left hand has been on my mind a lot recently, mainly for musical reasons. For both guitar and drums you need a good left hand: you have to cultivate dexterity in the non-dominant hand, which takes time and effort. What this does is enhance bilateral symmetry, so that you are not so manually lopsided. This changes proprioception, among other things–you feel your left hand more, becoming more aware of it. Since I play a lot of racquet games, and so have a very developed right hand and arm, the change in my left hand restores a sense of balance. Recently I was watching Buddy Rich playing drum solos and was very struck by his left hand technique, which seems physically impossible (but there are techniques to develop it)–just amazingly fast, controlled, and musical. Then there are guitar shredders whose left hand achieves remarkable feats–like the guy who can play 27 notes in one second. I’d like to know how many drum rebounds per second Buddy got with his left hand–including bounces it could be as much as a hundred. I’m designating October Left Hand Month (or Right Hand Month if you are left handed). Let’s celebrate our non-dominant side, with all its locked-up potential. (This is part of the Cult.)
I may as well express my view on the question of the future of the Leiter Report. I think it should be abolished altogether, because of its unsound methodology, malign influence on the profession, governance structure, competitive mentality, and other reasons. Leiter should simply discontinue it, not hand it over to new management. If anyone wants to start something new, focused on providing objective information about philosophy departments, they should feel free to do so–but not in the form in which the Leiter Report now exists.
As to Professor Leiter himself, I wish to say as little as possible (we have had our run-ins, to put it mildly). But I think everyone should acknowledge that Brian Leiter is not solely responsible for Brian Leiter: he has been pandered to, encouraged, and enabled by large segments of the philosophy profession, especially in the United States. The reasons for this have been essentially corrupt. It is time for people to wake up to their own complicity. He has no more power than the power people have given him. I look forward to a post-Leiter age in philosophy.
I just watched an interesting program on the BBC about Nabokov. I cannot help feeling that he would be fired from, or not hired by, an American university these days for writing Lolita. The “feminists” would not stand for it. The fact that it is a deeply moral book, and a great work of art, would not make an ounce of difference. What do readers think?
A black and white kitten showed up in my garden a week or so ago. It was clearly wild and we started feeding it. I was thinking about skepticism at the time and certainly not connecting the two things. Yesterday I went out the front door to drive over to the Biltmore to play some tennis and saw the kitten under my car. I made a point of shooing it away before I drove off, as I often do with my own cats. I made very sure it was no longer under the car. I drove over to the Biltmore and played for an hour. When I got back to my car I noticed a very similar stray kitten in the parking lot near my car. I formed two hypotheses: one, that the kitten from my house had somehow traveled over to the Biltmore (a mile and half away) for some unaccountable reason; the other, that this was another kitten from the litter from which “my” kitten had come. For a moment I had thought it was just another black and white kitten bearing no close relation to “mine”–but closer inspection convinced me otherwise. On reflection, I decided that it was impossible that it just walked over to the Biltmore as I was heading there; so I settled for the same-litter hypothesis. I expected to see the kitten in my garden when I got back, but it had been raining and that usually sends them into hiding for a while. I didn’t see it, even a couple of hours later. I had a conversation with my wife in which she mentioned on occasion on which a stray cat had climbed up into her father’s car engine. Then it struck me, but only as a wild hypothesis: this little animal had inserted itself in the bottom of the car engine and stayed there till I had driven to my destination. That meant lodging itself behind two hot pipes, close to the road, as I drove at fairly high speed. As I thought about it, I realized this had to be the correct explanation. I have been back twice to the Biltmore to look for it and seen nothing. Nor has it returned to my garden. The improbable had happened. But what struck me, epistemologically, is that, given the evidence I had, I formed the firm belief that, by coincidence, a kitten from the same litter was over at the Biltmore–I could see no alternative. But I was dead wrong; the correct explanation had not even occurred to me. This is the kind of thing that encourages radical types of skepticism. Not a brain in a vat in this case but a cat in an undercarriage. There is a good lesson here, too, about the perils of jumping to conclusions.
I just want to put in a good word for Neil de Grasse Tyson’s series on Fox on Sunday nights. Despite the fact that he pronounces it “Kuzmose” (rhymes with “dose”), the program is excellent in every way. The science is well explained, the graphics are terrific, the historical references helpful, the photography superb: this is not low-budget PBS stuff. What I particularly like is that it gives no quarter to the anti-science factions out there: creationism, young earth, etc. We get the science straight and pure. No politics. Admittedly, last Sunday’s episode dwelt on establishing the age of the earth and the politics of lead pollution, which were clearly aimed at current “controversies”; but the cases were instructive and the series could hardly just ignore current politics. I found Dr. Tyson enthralling on astrophysics (his speciality): his mind is clear, his voice is strong, he looks good but not too good. This may be the best thing for science education in America since Carl Sagan did the first Cosmos. I also happened to catch part of a three-part series by David Attenborough covering his life in natural history broadcasting. His cut-glass accent varied over his life, and his weight has fluctuated, but his charm and dedication are undimmed. No one talks about animals as well as David Attenborough. And he even held up a copy of an original edition of Richard Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene to indicate how profoundly it has affected his own thinking. All is not lost!
Again Rafa fails to win in Miami, losing to Djokovic. He lost at Indian Wells to Dolgopolov. Close observers of these games will have noticed something evident also in Federer’s recent outings: being outplayed by other guys. Novak and Alexander simply out hit Rafa–they played better tennis. It’s not about fatigue or off days; it’s about who’s better at the game. Novak was faster, harder, more skillful; and the same for Alex. Alex has yet to tame his game into consistency, but he is an outstanding player–more naturally talented than anyone else, I’d say. Novak, though, has honed his game to perfection: impregnable defense, powerful offence from both sides. Rafa still has clay to assert himself, but he is starting to be eclipsed (like Federer). His will is no longer enough, or his looping forehand. 2014 should be interesting. I’m looking to Dolgo to show what he can do, but he has to tame his mind first.
