Take an hour away from binge-watching advertisements and enjoy the exquisite documentary Worlds of Ursula K. Le Guin, just released on PBS’s American Masters series.
And then read something she wrote, if you haven’t already loved her words. If you have, cherish them still.
Losing our faith in art is, in a secular culture, what losing faith in God was to a religious one; God only knows what losing our faith in desserts must be.
Adam Gopnik, The Table Comes First (New York: Vintage, 2012), p. 277
Amusingly, got my ID checked at the Over40 soccer âš½ï¸ match tonight, to see if I was old enough to play: I must not look a day over 39.
Sad morning here today. The youngest wondered if the Bigger Sister’s bunny was hungry and went to feed her, then came back to ask if she was dead.
Yes, Bunny is.
Now the house is full of tears.
Whatever the cause, I can’t help but think it was general neglect and diffuse responsibility, in which I also played a part. Bunny stayed in her hutch in the Bigger Sister’s room, alone, and didn’t come out to play often. She was easily ignored: that’s an excuse.
Confronted after the murder of his brother, Cain asked a rhetorical question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?â€
The answer is yes.
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were: any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
John Donne, “Meditation XVII,” Devotions upon Emergent Occasions (1623)
We, all of us, are responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of this, our only world, and all creatures on it, particularly those in our immediate care; each supports the other.
Sometimes when economists mention that something is inefficient or costs a lot, and frown upon something for those reasons, I think they forget that inefficiency and those costs are oftentimes the reason those things are done: someone profits.
“It may take some time for children to learn to play without supervision.†— Ian Barker on pick-up soccer in Howler Magazine, Spring 2019
Because it’s never too early to make this decision, The Orlando Sentinel endorses Not Trump.
Yet again annoyed by computer programs that don’t do what I want. This time, and since it was created, Apple Podcasts.
It might be amusing how many sites stop working when cookies are denied if they didn’t stop working. (Also, noticed some sites are polite enough to offer the option to decline cookies, while others, like the WordPress default GDPR banner, simply announce cookies exist.)
Hard to say if I’m more annoyed that some drivers seem to be unaware that they cause gridlock when they enter an intersection they can’t leave, or that GMail intentionally ignores dots in e-mail addresses.
I have been using my iPhone as a stopwatch, and sometimes for background music, during soccer practice for a while now. Not anymore. Last Thursday one of my players brought his phone on to the field as well and it rapidly became a distraction. I’ll be switching to the more analog way of keeping time.
Soccer requires intense concentration for at least two 45-minute periods. These kids already have trouble concentrating for more than 10 seconds on anything. Let’s not make it worse.
My children and I have been indulging in Screen-Free Week. We have read books, played games, and talked together. A week earlier they were binge-watching something or other in separate rooms on separate devices.
Some days I regret being in this field–my life is defined by screens–but it has given me what one friend calls an Advanced Lifestyle. It helps to remember that there were reasons I chose a field where I could work from anywhere. Being a parent was one of them.
More important than being screen-free is spending time connecting with other people and in being, in some small way, the master of your fate. Taste life rather than submit to gavage. You are more than a consumer.
Once again, it is that time of year here in New York where residents of the school districts vote for board candidates and approve the budget. Most of the time the school board appears powerless, confined to implementing decisions made in Albany and Washington, D. C. But let’s assume for a minute that it isn’t, which is possible, and that I’m a candidate, which is not.
It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.
Upton Sinclair (1934)
After Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez announced she was quitting Facebook, Cal Newport noticed that the news media seem to think that she did so in protest against Facebook’s advertising-based shenanigans with Cambridge Analytica, Donald Trump, and their ilk—despite her explicitly emphasizing the health risks:
I think we’ll all be better served once the national press recognizes this reality, and turns more of its attention from the spectacle of Mark Zuckerberg testifying about data privacy and AI-driven content review, and toward the more nuanced and more human issues encapsulated by the surprising story of a 29-year-old social media rockstar who finds it necessary to escape the very techno-world that made her.
I agree entirely. But the media are a bit narcissistic, and tend not to care about much other than themselves—besides, they depend on advertising. I expect they’re too busy reinforcing our intentional mass attention deficit disorder to spend any time thinking meaningfully about ethical behavior.
That is, violations of privacy are a safe topic, unlike aggregating eyeballs to drive traffic and create sticky revenue streams.
I just noticed I’m building of pile of books I’ve read but not re-shelved because I want to write about them. This could develop into a problem: some of these are library books.
Walking barefoot has gone out of fashion, but sensible people are reviving the habit.
Nan Shepherd (1945)
Hypothesis. Question? Test. Science! First ever black hole image released – BBC News
My daughter told me I should get some face lotion for my dry skin. I thought she would ask why I was crying, but the dry salt of my tears hid among the rough flakes of skin. I can feel them yet there, crusted on my swollen face.
This is how a sixteen year-old says I love you: Use lotion, Dad.
