LACMA: Stanley Kubrick

Blowhard, Esq. writes:

This past weekend your friend and humble narrator (sorry) took in the new grand deluxe Stanley Kubrick retrospective at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Continue reading

Posted in Art, Movies, Photography | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

DVD Review: “The Departed”

Paleo Retiree writes:

I sat all the way through Martin Scorsese’s 2006 movie even though I never felt more than half-involved with it.

It’s a remake of the Hong Kong thriller “Infernal Affairs,” and it’s in Scorsese’s exuberant, burning-in-hell, “Goodfellas” mode. It’s set in Boston with two contrasting heroes: Matt Damon as a young cop with crime connections (to boss Jack Nicholson); and Leo DiCaprio as a good-family’s rebel who goes undercover, taking up with Nicholson’s posse. Matt and Leo have contrasting divided souls and loyalties too.

It’s an odd jumble. Despite the gritty Boston Irishness on display, the material is really just a diagrammatic excuse for a lot of action and faceoffs. But Scorsese fills the screen with anguish, torment, and bravado anyway, and he goes on for 2 hours and 20 minutes. Why?

Still, there’s fun to be had watching the actors strut, agonize, do accents, wear bad hair and clothes, and blow each other away. And Scorsese delivers a more alert directorial performance than he did in “Casino,” his last effort in this vein. Plus I enjoyed the way he made fun of that wildly ugly Brutalist atrocity, Boston City Hall. Still: Didn’t love it, didn’t hate it.

Fast-Forwarding Score: An eighth of the movie

Posted in Architecture, Movies | Tagged , | 8 Comments

LACMA: Art of the Pacific

Blowhard, Esq. writes:

I love indigenous/primitive art. These are from LACMA’s “Art of the Pacific” collection.

I’ll let you write your own caption for this image.

Posted in Art, Photography | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

More Evidence Montaigne Would Fit In Here

Blowhard, Esq. writes:

“Of all famous warriors, Montaigne most admired the Theban general Epaminondas, who was known for his ability to keep furor in check: once, in mid-battle and ‘terrible with blood and iron,’ Epaminondas found himself face to face with an acquaintance in whose house he had stayed. He turned aside and did not kill him. That might seem unremarkable, but in theory a soldier should no more be capable of such conscious restraint than would a shark in a feeding frenzy. Epaminondas proved himself ‘in command of war itself,’ as Montaigne wrote; he made the battle ‘endure the curb of benignity’ at the very height of ecstasy.” — Sarah Bakewell, How to Live: or A Life of Montaigne

Posted in Books Publishing and Writing, Philosophy and Religion | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Aoun on Higher Education

Fenster writes:

I am basically a higher education person, more comfortable in an institution than out on my own, and more comfortable in a non-profit, mission-based organization than in a for-profit one.  I recognize this to be a matter of temperament and make no special claims about better and worse, other than the claims that I cannot help but make due to my temperament.

But I have also been professionally curious and, having started out in higher education, also spent time in other sectors.  I remember when I made my way back to higher education after more than ten years as an investment banker that I felt that I had died and gone (back) to heaven.  I was a decent investment banker but simply lacked the killer instinct to be really good at it.

But though I returned to the land of the Eloi I nonetheless had spent appreciable time among the Morlocks, and felt that, if nothing else, a dose of Morlock thinking might be helpful in Eloi-land.  When I would point out the obvious–that higher education might be many wonderful things but it was also a business–my comments would typically be met with a kind of blissed-out astonishment.  Why, didn’t I know that the oddly decentralized and ungovernable university model has a far longer history than the profit-driven corporation, and that it therefore has the upper hand in terms of proving evolutionary worth?  It is an oddly compelling argument, all the more odd since it is Burkean in its essence, and higher education people strongly resist being characterized as conservative.

Of course all irony disappears under the microscope.  The answer to this riddle is that higher education people are conservative at their core.  Not conservative politically, of course, but conservative where it counts–on the home front, in the defense of the institutions that house and feed them, and that give them status and prestige.

And therein lies the problem.  All well and good to say that all higher education must possess some magic mojo descended from Peter Abelard, some distilled essence of otherness.  And for sure there are aspects of learning, both teaching and research, that rightly cause education to resist full-scale corporatization.  But, to return to my lessons from my time with the Morlocks, who can deny that universities have also become big business?  There’s a business model.  There’s money coming in and coming out.  There’s the need for competitiveness.

Most of all, there is the near-universal quality of higher education in the current era.  You don’t need to resort to Bell Curve style arguments to grasp a simple truth: that in an era of near-universal education, huge sections of the institution will be less like a medieval university than a corporate training center.  That’s just inevitable, and it is always amusing for me to observe how frantically many faculty attempt to deny the obvious, and to drag up ideal models as a way to defend their places in a higher education world with deep, deep ties to reality.

The size and scale of higher education, therefore, guarantee its diversity of aims, approaches and underlying rationales.  It becomes constricting to consider it all of a piece, especially because of the nagging tendency to fall back on a small piece (the medieval ideal and its legitimate descendants) for the whole (the whole mehgillah from history at Harvard to a radiology assistant program at a local community college).

So now comes Joseph Aoun, the very capable and wise president of Northeastern University.

Here is his contribution to the recent heated discussions over whether change is finally, finally making its way to the sheltered groves of academe.  His answer: yes, change is coming and it will be transformative.

It is in one sense a ballsy move for the President of an earthbound entity, one whose constituencies are now just beginning to move out from the shadows of denial into what they fear will be a much too sunny future.  But Aoun’s remarks do touch on the central points that higher education leaders (if that term is not too much the oxymoron) will have to grapple with in the not distant future.

Here is an important passage, one in which he speculates on the effects of MOOCs (Massively Open Online Courses):

Most significantly, MOOCs are causing higher education to shift from a vertically integrated model to a horizontally integrated one. For centuries, higher education has been a vertical enterprise: Its core functions — knowledge creation, teaching, testing, and credentialing — all have been housed within colleges and universities. MOOCs disrupt this model by decoupling teaching and learning from the campus on a mass scale.

This shift will accelerate as MOOCs continue to take hold. As more people use massive online courses to assemble new educational pathways, the companies that provide them will likely turn to outside partners such as private testing firms to administer exams to large numbers of students, detaching assessment from colleges and universities. Next, credentialing will be separated from colleges as well, as students press providers to offer degrees or other formal validation of the knowledge and skills they’ve acquired. Still more external players may get involved in the credentialing process, such as state agencies or professional associations.

Before long, higher education will look very different than it does today. Vertically integrated universities will continue to exist, but they’ll be joined by a variety of horizontally integrated competitors with the ability to perform the same core function for many more people. In short, the monopoly that colleges and universities have on advanced learning and degree granting will be dismantled. Ultimately, this will cause even more aspects of higher education to be scrutinized.

And all of this seems to be happening at quite a clip.  MOOCs are a very recent pheonomenon, as are the entities, like Coursera, that house them.  Ah well, said the skeptics a few months back, it is one thing to offer a course but it is something else altogether to figure out how to legimately give credit for it, or to assemble them into something resembling a degree.  Well, now we have the first steps toward credit, and degrees and such are not far behind.

Aoun cannot help but make some concessions to his role as president of an earthbound university.  One, of course, deals with the possible effects on diversity, if MOOCs and such end up offering a plain vanilla view of accomplishments and qualifications that conflicts with the prevailing holistic view in the industry.  The other is that MOOCs could result in a two-tiered system:

. . . .one tier consisting of a campus-based education for those who can afford it, and the other consisting of low- and no-cost MOOCs. This stratification could be reinforced if the colleges and universities that offer massive online courses reserve degrees for the graduates of their physical campuses and provide lesser credentials for their MOOC graduates — in effect, creating a “luxury” brand and an “economy” brand.

The only problem I have with this formulation is that we already have a system that is stratified.  Although the current system is stratified into many gradations, not just two, there is no doubt they are arrayed on a prestige continuum of sorts.  But because of the strength of the institutions to place institutional needs as a top priority, we are stuck with a stratification in which many students pay a high four year cost for an education that includes a lot of things that, for them, may not add appreciable value.  All the more reason for a big unbundling.  Let the folks who want to go to Williams go there.  Let others do other things in a freer, less institutionally-constrained, environment.

Posted in Education, Personal reflections | Leave a comment

Palladio Award Winner

epiminondas writes:

Palladio Award Winner

Andrea Palladio was one of the greatest architects the world has ever known.  He was born in Padua in 1508 and died near Traviso in 1580.  He is mainly known for the 23 surviving villas he designed which are scattered about the Veneto, and which are tourist magnets for Renaissance enthusiasts around the world. Your trusty correspondent has personally visited about half of them.  They are truly mind-boggling.

So it’s really no surprise to learn that there are annual awards now given for classical architecture named for Signor Palladio.  Among this year’s winners is a federal courthouse in Tuscaloosa, Alabama.  Although the proportions and some of the details are severely Doric, you can still feel the presence of the modern era in the way the buildings are shorn of ornament.  However, the construction is so cleverly designed and the colors so warm and inviting, that you don’t notice that.  Personally, I would like to see more fountains and statuary (not modernist junk) scattered around to soften the effect.  But I like this and am heartened to see that our society still reveres its history.  I have always maintained that no society can long survive untethered from its own past.  Perhaps we’re not ready to roll over quite yet.

Posted in Architecture | 3 Comments

A return of the term “financial repression”

epiminondas writes:

A return of the term “financial repression”.

As we head down the path blazed by Argentina, we need to understand the concept of “financial repression”.  It was a term used years ago to describe the downward spiraling economies of nations like Argentina. It might be well to review why that term is useful in the US going forward.

Posted in Politics and Economics | 1 Comment

Is this a trick?

Fenster writes:

Burial insurance from Senior Life Insurance company advertises that policyholders get lifetime coverage!

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

The Collapse, Part Three

Paleo Retiree writes:

This is Part Three of a three-part series. Part One of this series is here. Part Two is here.

As helpful as those resources are, though, I confess that temperamentally I’m not of the “We can make it work” persuasion. I really do hope that responsible people with access to levers of control can nurse the system along. Truly, I wouldn’t mind seeing our current lame-o arrangements last for another 30-40 years. After all, by that point my wife and I will be off the scene and it won’t matter to us any longer. A peaceful, easy slide to the finish line — with lots of opportunities along the way for good food, excellent friends and rewarding intellectual and artistic adventures — would suit me just fine.

Sadly, though, I’m temperamentally someone who looks at the “Where does money come from?” question and thinks “That’s not just terrifying, it’s ridiculous!”

Does this reaction make me a realist or a childish hysteric? I have no idea — but since I seem to have no choice in the matter, I’ve made a point of going where the response has led me. And where the response has led me is in the direction of what’s called the “monetary-reform” movement.

The monetary-reform crowd is made up of people who look at the way money works in what they call our “debt-money” (or “credit-money”) system and think, “That’s rigged entirely in the favor of bankers; it’s bound to lead to collapses of the kind we’re living through; and it can’t go on forever.” Then they try to come up with ways of structuring a money economy that would serve us all better.

Their usual solution, FWIW, is “public banking” — to take money-creation out of the hands of government-backed bankers and to create debt-free money via more public means.

Let me pass along a reading and viewing list for those who might share my temperament. I think of it as Monetary Reform 101.

  • Paul Grigon’s 76 minute long animated picture “Money As Debt” is the fastest way to get onboard here.
  • Ellen Brown’s “Web of Debt” is probably the most popular of the monetary-reform books, and Brown herself has become a staple on fringe-y talk shows. Here’s Brown’s blog; here she links to lots of articles she’s written.
  • I’m particularly partial to a monetary reformist named Thomas Greco. His book “The End of Money and the Future of Civilization” hits many of the same points Brown’s does, but it’s shorter and punchier. It’a the monetary-reform book I’d suggest starting with.
  • Steven Zarlenga runs something called The American Monetary Institute, whose rewarding website is here. I haven’t squared off with his epic book “The Lost Science of Money” but I’ve read, watched and listened-to numerous interviews with him and have gotten a great deal out of the exercise.
  • Dennis Kucinich was the movement’s sole representative in D.C. Dang: Why wasn’t I aware of how cool he is while he was actually in office?
  • Although the heterodox Australian economist Steve Keen (his main book is “Debunking Economics“) identifies himself as a post-Keynesian, I’m happy to group him with the monetary-reform crowd; his critiques of conventional economics make him at least a sympathizer, and like Michael Hudson he sometimes turns up at monetary-reform events. (Mainstream economists tend to be contemptuous of the monetary reformers, and to dismiss them as, at best, cranks.) Numerous interviews with Keen can be found on YouTube.
  • Question Du Jour: Why should the only money we can use be the money that the government demands and requires? Shouldn’t we also be able to create and use our own mediums of exchange? Watch a decent little doc about Switzerland’s interesting and successful Wir Bank here.

Incidentally, if you follow your curiosity down this particular rabbit hole you may find yourself in an Alice in Wonderland world where right and left lose all their conventional meanings. It’s a world where G. Edward Griffin — a guy with John Birch Society connections whose book “The Creature from Jekyll Island” tells the tale of the birth of the Federal Reserve — stands affably alongside smaller-is-beautiful localist-hippies who experiment with local currencies — aka “complementary currencies” — like BerkShares and Ithaca Hours. Some may find this disorienting; I rather enjoy it.

One of the best ways to begin exploring the monetary-reform world is with Positive Money, a U.K.-based outfit dedicated to spreading the word about how insane our financial arrangements are. They’re young, they’re intelligent and they’re very clear in their presentations. Here’s a few short talks by them:

Here are some more talks to explore. They’ve even created a two-hour-long documentary. It takes some patience to get through but it’s well worth the effort. Here it is:

So, should you care to have a fantasy about me, you can picture me living in a granola kinda town, sitting on top of a small pile of precious metals while doing debt-free business both by barter and in a local currency. I feel that such a life would suit me just fine.

How have you reacted to the financial collapse? Have you treated yourself to much research into causes and possible solutions? Any recommendations to pass along?

Posted in Personal reflections, Politics and Economics | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

All What Jazz

Fenster writes:

To my post on the possible demise of jazz, dearieme wrote in to say that the chap to read is Larkin.

Larkin being the poet Philip Larkin (subject of this recent article, link thanks to Arts & Letters Daily).  Larkin doubled as a jazz critic for the Daily Telegraph though the sixties.  The book presents his criticism from the start, 1961, through 1971.

Interesting that while the buzz today is whether jazz is dead in the 21st century, from Larkin’s POV it was over by 1945.  Larkin has a love-hate relationship with jazz which can be summed up fairly easily: love the early stuff, hate the new stuff.

Larkin’s asthetic view is fairly straightforward: does music give pleasure?  And for him, jazz started going downhill, and fast, when it stopped being about the pleasure the music can bring and started being about something else.

Here he is an (unpublished) piece on John Coltrane, written a few short weeks after Coltrane’s death in July 1967.

Well, I still can’t imagine how anyone can listen to a Coltrane record for pleasure.  That reedy, catarrhal tone, sawing backwards and forwards for ten minutes between a couple of chords and producing ‘violent barrages of notes not mathematically related to the underlying rhythmic pulse, and not swinging in the traditional sense of the term’ (Encyclopedia of Jazz in the Sixties); that insolent egotism, leading to forty five minute versions of My Favorite Things until, at any rate in Britain, the audience walked out, no doubt wondering why they had ever walked in; that latter-day religiosity, exemplified in turgid suites such as “A Love Supreme” and “Ascension” that set up pretension as a way of life; that willful and hideous distortion of tone that offered squeals, squeaks, Bronx cheers and throttled slate-pencil noises for serious consideration–all this, and more, ensure that, for me at any rate, when Coltrane’s records go back on the shelf they will stay there.

I will pause here just for a moment to point out that the preceding paragraph was, with the short exception of the first few words, all one sentence.  And I thought I could run on!  He is obviously worked into quite the lather at this point.  So he goes on:

Of course, a great deal of this falls into place if one reflects that Coltrane was a “modern” jazzman.  The adjective ‘modern’, when applied to any branch of art, means ‘designed to invoke incomprehension, anger, boredom or laughter, and Coltrane was simply part of the melancholy tendency since 1945 to remove jazz from our pleasures and place it, with all the other ‘modern’ arts, among our duties.  Much of this was doubtless due to the fact that Coltrane was an American Negro.  He did not want to entertain his audience: he wanted to lecture them, even to annoy them.  His ten-minute solos, in which he lashes himself up into dervish-like heights of hysteria (editor’s note: you oughtta know!) are the musical equivalent of Mr Stokely Carmichael (editor’s note: did I say this was unpublished?).  It is this side of his work that appeals to the Black Power boys (editor’s note: ouch!) such as LeRoi Jones and Archie Shepp; toward the end of his life, he had become associated with younger players of even wilder and more excruciating exhibitionism than himself, such as Pharaoh Sanders.  It is not surprising that pianist McCoy Tyner and drummer Elvin Jones, for long his associates and admirers, quietly dropped off the wagon.

Virtually the only compliment one can pay Coltrane is one of stature.  If he was boring, he was enormously boring.  If he was ugly, he was massively ugly.  To squeak and gibber for sixteen bars is nothing; Coltrane could do it for sixteen minutes, stunning the listener into a kind of hypnotic state in which he read and re-read the sleeve note and believed, not of course that he was enjoying himself, but that he was hearing something significant.  Perhaps he was.  Time will tell.  I regret Coltrane’s death the way I regret the death of any man, but I can’t conceal the fact that it leaves in jazz a vast, a blessed silence.

Editor’s note: note the clever use of ‘blessed’ at the last moment.  Two can play this religious high ground game.

As you can see, Larkin is a first-rate ranter.  If you are going to have firm opinions, you might as well rant well and write well if you seek to persuade.  The book puts me in the mind of other fine rants like Tom Wolfe’s books on modern art and architecture, but the prose style is Larkin’s own, and not Wolfe-like.  Wolfe is faintly amused/bemused by the vacuousness of what he sees.  Larkin by contrast is very clearly angry and hurt.

For me, it takes some historical imagination to get myself to understand Larkin’s disappointment.  Me, I can still get angry at how punk (and its many happy-amateur successors) shoved aside music that was pleasurable to listen to, and that was–duh–musical.  This was the rise of the talentless playing for the stupid, circa 1974, and it is with us still (see Sir BH’s earlier post on Austin alt music).

For me, jazz, both pre and post bop, are part of a seamless web of musical development.  Yes, I understand how jazz got less accessible, and wanted to be about new things, but I don’t myself feel the pain.  And I myself listen more to Monk than Louis Armstrong.  Does that mean time has told?

Posted in Music | 12 Comments