I am so unhappy that the 2020 presidential season is already starting, and have actively tried to avoid thinking about it. Nevertheless, I read with great interest this piece on Cory Booker’s long commitment to defunding and privatizing public education. I’ve always felt like Booker was a fairweather friend to causes I believe in, and this well-cited essay makes clear that he’s no friend to public schools, teacher’s unions, or anything like what I believe to be enriching public education.
I watched, with ecstatic joy, the trailer for the upcoming TV series Good Omens, based on the novel by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. The book is laugh-out-loud funny and so incredibly smart, and the TV series has, so far, done all the things I’d want to make the show honor the book. I still remember how hard I laughed when I read the passage about Aziraphale’s collection of misprinted Bibles:
And he had a complete set of the Infamous Bibles, individually named from error’s in typesetting.
These Bibles included the Unrighteous Bible, so called from a printer’s error which caused it to proclaim, in I Corinthians, “Know ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit the Kingdom of God?"; and the Wicked Bible, printed by Barker and Lucas in 1632, in which the word not was omitted from the seventh commandment:, making it “Thou shalt commit Adultery.” There were the Discharge bible, the Treacle Bible, the Standing Fishes Bible, the Charing Cross Bible and the rest. Aziraphale had them all.
the progressive movement has, in rather short order, thrust into mainstream US politics a program to address climate change that is wildly more ambitious than anything the Democratic Party was talking about even two years ago.
Ninety percent of anything is mostly garbage and that remaining 10 percent is not only excellent but worth dying for. The only way to get there is to try to be excellent with your art.
I discovered the website Fonts in Use, which provides font names for a whole host of historical magazines, books, albums, and other pieces of media. As someone whose job involves a bit of graphic design, I appreciate having a good repository of fonts for inspiration or assistance.
I have been reading Viriconium, M. John Harrison’s masterful series of novels. While reading up on Harrison, a vitally important figure in the modern speculative fiction, I ran across this long post by illustrator Jonathan Coulthart entitled “Covering Viroconium”, analyzing the (mostly failed) attempts to make decent cover art for his genre-bending, enigmatic books. Here’s the example I’ve been reading from, which is, at best, loosely representative of the contents–as Coulthart points out, it makes the novel look Steampunk (which it’s not, in any meaningful sense), and also depicts the hatching of a mechanical bird, an event that is not present in any of the text.
I put the finishing touches on the syllabus for my Hartwick College Course “Collections Management.” It’s a two-credit practicum course designed to give students the basics of Museum object handling, inventory management, and on-going collections maintenance. I tweak it a bit every year, and this year, have front-loaded more practical stuff, while leaving more abstract questions towards the end.
Now I’m back to work, and figured it was time to start weeknoting again.
This week:
I listened to Chris Hayes interview George Goehl about what it’s like to do real progressive organizing in rural America, in what is usually called Trump Country (though they both talk in interesting ways about why that’s not a fair or accurate characterization. The episode was inspiring, both for its subject matter and for Goehl’s story–he is a recovering addict who discovered a political consciousness while getting sober.
Consensus is difficult to achieve and it takes time, but without consensus spurned developers will go off and create competing standards. The lesson here may be that if we want to see a better, more open web, we have to get better at working together.
I finally finished reading all 110 stories of Ann and Jeff Vandermeer’s anthology “The Weird." My verdict is that it was absolutely fascinating and worth it for anyone with a passing interesting in the history and global scope of weird science fiction and fantasy. At 1100+ double-columned pages, it was quite a journey to get through, and I didn’t love everything in it, but I appreciated getting exposed to fantastic writers outside of the standard familiar American canon.
In which I list, in no particular order, things I experienced, worked on or enjoyed this year.
I read 37 books. Of these, 19 were written/edited by or primarily by women–a ratio I tried very hard this year to equalize after years of not being conscious of it. The most inspiring or memorable of these were
Saga by Brian K. Vaughn and Fiona Staples, a graphic novel (of which I read volumes 8, 9 and 10 this year) that feels so simultaneously human and strange, and gives me that wonderful thrill of reading something modern that I know will be someday considered a classic;
I wrote a piece of fiction (something I hadn’t done in decades) and submitted it for publiciation to an upcoming anthology. It was not accepted, but the process of getting it together inspired me to write more fiction. I’m now working on a novel that I will hopefully finish next year. If you want to read the story (which is about two boys who fight a monster with a machine named for a Dead Boys song), drop me a line and I’ll send you a copy.
I watched a bunch of movies and TV shows. The ones that have stuck with me included:
A Dark Song, a subtly-shaded character study of a woman trying (and failing) to cope with tragedy masquerading as a horror movie.
Hereditary, a horror movie masquerading as a subtly shaded character study of a woman trying (and failing) to cope with tragedy.
Annihilation, a film where the movie was different enough from the (wonderful) book to make me not care that it was an adaptation, and whose last 30 minutes was perhaps one of the weirdest pieces of cinema released by a major studio since 2001.
Mohawk, a supernatural action movie set in colonial New York, with Indigenous protagonists and featuring Indigenous actors.
Hotel Transylvania 3, which honestly wasn’t that great, but which I watched at the Unadilla Drive-in with my wife and son. The experience, which was a first for him, was delightful.
Finally, if all goes as expected, sometime in the next two weeks I will be welcoming a daughter into the world. I remain in awe of and love with my wife’s strength, humor, and fierce intelligence through this whole process, as the rest of our lives have alternatively woven or crashed into it. Likewise, my son’s genuine enthusiasm for and curiousity about this new person joining our family has been both a relief and a wonderous inspiriation. These remain the best gifts that 2018 has given me.
I read “Three Feet from God: An Oral History of Nirvana ‘Unplugged’". These kinds of oral histories are catnip for me, and particularly so since ‘Unplugged’ remains one of my favorite records of all time. That album did what Nirvana did best-siphon the most interesting and wonderful aspects of American independent music and underground culture into the brains of teenagers like me who would have otherwise never heard it. I still remember when Ryan Phelan, Ben Franklin and I sat around the television and watched a VHS copy of the performance that Phelan had taped off the TV. The gasp and wide-eyes at the final words of “Where did you sleep last night?" remains one of the most haunting and powerful things I have ever witnessed.
I read this amazing story documenting the life and career of Harry LaForme, the first Indigenous Appellate Judge in Canada. Judge LaForme’s life mirrors the moder history of Canadian First Nations people and other Indigenous people. He was born on a the Mississaugas of the New Credit reserve (where I used to work in the Consultation and Accommodation office, for his brother Mark, who is quoted in the story), but left at a young age due to economic opportunities and to avoid local racism. He figured out that law was a route in which contemporary Indigenous rights would be fought, and took every opportunity he could get to travel that route. And he discovered the limits to that route, when, despite every appearance that he would be appointed to Canada’s Supreme court, he was denied for a combination of political and unwritten reasons. It was a powerful and frustrating story of opportunity and the limits that long-term racism and colonization put even on brilliant and committed people.
I read this long and detailed interview with Ralph Bakshi about his attempt to make an animated version of the Lord of the Rings in the 1970s. It’s a crazy story about a movie that’s famously interesting but kind of confusing (the movie ends halfway through the trilogy), and both aspects come through in this interview. There’s Mick Jagger, Spanish Communists, Hollywood horsetrading, and more.
I listened to Marc Maron’s interviews with John Cleese and Eric Idle, of Monty Python fame. Maron’s deep search for humanity underneath celebrity and artistry was in rare form here, as he discussed with both men the experience of growing up during the reconstruction of Britain after WWII, the radical free-form nature of the 1960s era BBC, and how comedy promotes and grows the human spirit.
Just in time for election day, I finished political scientist David Faris' new book “It’s Time to Fight Dirty: How Democrats Can Build a Lasting Majority in American Politics”. Faris argues that the Republican party has spent the last two and a half decades waging a war of procedure on government–rather than running and governing based on a political philosophy, they have exploited ambiguities in the constitution and law, as well as previous reliance on governmental ‘norms’ to entrench conservative governance throughout Washington D.C. Faris' prescriptions to combat this are quite bold, and include no-brainer policies like a national holiday on election day, and statehood for the 4 million US citizens who live in Washington D.C. and Puerto Rico. However, he also advocates for more radical inteventions, including splitting up electoral behemoth California into 7 states, and packing the US Supreme court with additional jurists, as well as retiring existing jurists after a period of service on the court.
I voted in NY-19, a tight race where the newcomer Antonio Delgado ultimately prevailed. I also drove a van from Hartwick to take students to the polls, and helped the Otsego County Democratic Party with last minute Get-out-the-vote efforts.
I read Pitchfork’s history of Outlaw country in 33 songs. The list opens with an interview with Steve Earle, with whom I’ve recently gotten acquainted through his classic album Copperhead Road and his more recent political rager Jerusalem. Earle went to Texas, and then Nashville as an acolyte of older country stars, before joining their ranks, and then losing a battle against drug and alcoholism that eventually led him to prison. The list includes many people I knew (Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, Earle, Townes Van Zandt) but lots of other folks I didn’t know and am looking forward to hearing.