SPQR Follies

ROME – Court documents filed here reveal that Vladimir Putin is suing 18-year-old Moroccan belly dancer Karima el Mahrough, aka Ruby "The Heartbreaker" Rubacuari, for alienation of the affections of Italian PM Silvio Berlusconi, 74, aka "Il Cavaliere".

Veronica Lario Berlusconi, 53, aka "the long-suffering wife", is already suing her husband for divorce.

Cardinal Tarsisio Bertone, aka Vatican Secretary of State, asked today that, "those who have … public responsibility take on a commitment to the most robust morality". Fr. Bertone, it is widely reported, has been living on Pluto since Vatican II. Meanwhile, PM Berlusconi allegedly responded at a subsequent cabinet meeting that "such comments were not directed at him".

The U.S. High Command, which maintains 100 military installations in Italy (including the notorious extraordinary rendition base at Catania, aka "Sigonella") at the whim of the Italian government of the moment, is reluctant to file an amicus curiae brief since it is not sure which side to come down on.

Stay tuned to Wikileaks ("we expose, you decide") for further developments.

Hamlet Had a BlackBerry?

Hamlet's BlackBerry: A Practical Philosophy For Building A Good Life In The Digital Age

By William Powers.

HarperCollins Publishers, New York, 2010

Hardcover, 267pp., $24.99

 

Reviewed by Art Kane

 

In 2006, while a Fellow at Harvard's Shorenstein Center, media & technology writer William Powers authored a Discussion Paper titled, Hamlet's BlackBerry: Why Paper is Eternal.

Powers' essay was a paean to paper, that remarkably versatile, tactile and enduring commodity invented by the Chinese in 105 A.D. and lauded by Powers as: "the most successful communications innovation of the last 2000 years, [and] the one…that has had the profoundest effect upon civilization." He went on to observe with dismay the increasingly precipitous departure of print from our daily lives, as evidenced primarily by the parlous situation of the newspaper. The page, he lamented, was being displaced by the screen.

That erosion subsequently accelerated as the Recession and its aftermath have seen scores of newspapers and magazines disappear from newsstands and mailboxes; albeit many were replaced —or augmented —by online editions. We are not, it would appear, seeing the end of journalism, as some have prognosticated, but, rather, the demise of paper as the primary conveyor of the written word.

Powers concluded his essay by casting a reportorial eye on Electronic Paper Displays (EPD), a technology then (and still) in development that underpins Amazon's Kindle, Sony's Reader, and similar devices. What intrigues is not so much the gee-whizness of the technology, but that its ultimate aim is to replicate paper as much as possible; i.e., to be portable, roll-able, foldable, and stick-it-in-your-pocket reader-friendly.

Four years and 267 pages later, the author brings us up to the present day with the publication of Hamlet's BlackBerry: a Practical Philosophy for Building a Good Life in the Digital Age, in which he observes with equal — if not greater — dismay the degree to which the internet has taken over our lives. Unrelieved connectedness, advises Powers, changes
"the nature of everyday life, making it more frantic and rushed. And we're losing something of great value, a way of thinking and moving through time that can be summed up in a single word: depth. Depth of thought and feeling, depth in our relationships, our work and everything we do. Since depth is what makes life fulfilling and meaningful, it's astounding that we're allowing this to happen."

Powers is fortunate that he doesn't have to work in an office, where the audio-visual information bombardment can be relentless. But, even at home in Orleans where he writes, unmitigated connectedness can be pervasive. So, seeking the objective relief implicit in the book's title, he skillfully guides us through centuries of philosophical engagement with the age-old problem of the world being too much with us. From Plato on the principle of Distance, he goes on to Seneca on Inner Space, Ben Franklin on Positive Rituals, Thoreau on Walden Zones, and, finally, to McLuhan on Lowering the Inner Thermostat.

It is not possible in a brief review to capsulize the vast range of thought to which the author introduces us. Suffice it to say that he does indeed deliver on his title's promise. In his own personal life, Powers, his wife (author Martha Sherrill), and their son William have devised (and learned to live contentedly with) what they call the Internet Sabbath. Every Friday night, the Powers household modem is unplugged and stays that way until Monday morning. No Luddites they; the radio, the TV the DVR and the phone stay connected. It is only the Internet that spends its weekends in Coventry. To be sure, there lurks a suspicion in this reviewer's mind that, regardless of the disconnect, a certain amount of off-line electronic activity takes place. We are, after all, talking about a couple of writers.

As to that BlackBerry in the book's title, it seems that in Hamlet's time (or, at least, in Shakespeare's), those of princely means, education, and inclination were wont to carry on their persons a palm-sized "table" (think: tablet) of pages coated with a plaster-like material upon which they could inscribe with a stylus (and readily expunge) notes, drawings, calculations, and other jottings; a sort of medieval Etch-A-Sketch, or, if you will, a rudimentary PDA. Powers uses this device not only as a metaphor for any gadget that helps people to manage their daily lives, but as an example of the continued usefulness of old (and familiar) technologies that have been adapted into contemporary forms; to wit: his ever-at-hand Moleskine notebook that he finds far more accommodating to note-taking than a PDA. Why? Because it liberates him from the tyranny of the ever-glowing screen, while having the salutary attribute of being made out of that marvelous stuff, paper.

                    

This review was commissioned by, and originally appeared in, The Barnstable Patriot, 8/20/10. Posted with permission.

History Buff Alert

We have the New York Times to thank for bringing this fascinating piece of history to our attention.

Fan Letter

Among the few tidbits of serendipitous news that surfaced this week is that Steven Spielberg is making a film titled Lincoln, based on the book, Team of Rivals, by Pulitzer Prize-winning historian, Doris Kearns Goodwin. Even better news is that the lead will be played by Daniel Day-Lewis, surely one of the finest actors of his generation. Liam Neeson had originally been cast, but backed out, feeling that his age was inappropriate to the role. Neeson would, at 6'3", have been closer to Lincoln's towering 6'4", while Day-Lewis measures up to a mere 6'1". But, who's going to quibble over a couple of inches when such an array of talent comes together to create what one might hope will be the cinematic event of 2012 (a presidential-election year). As an American history buff and Day-Lewis fan, I never miss the re-runs of Last of the Mohicans, a film near the top of my Ten Best Movies of All Time list.

Those of you unused to reading such effusive fan-dom on what purports to be a serious blog may find comfort in knowing that this is the first and, hopefully, the last such post, save only the possibility of my expressing equal glee should persistent rumors of Tea Party ballot-stuffing in favor of Bristol Palin on Dancing With the Stars prove to be well-founded.

Rachel and the Not-So-Sly Fox

No great Olbermann fan I, but this clip is an eye opener for anyone living on Mars who actually believes that FNC is in fact "fair and balanced". What's most terrifying is that on election night more people watched FNC than any other network, cable or broadcast. As my friend Norman would say, good grief!

WSJ: Split Personality?

The vast divide between the even-handed reporting in the Wall Street Journal's news pages and the unalloyed reactionism of its editorials was never more evident than in yesterday's edition in which columnist Ashley Jones wrote – in the WSJ Law Blog – a straightforward and balanced pre-election piece on the effect of the SCOTUS Citizens United
v. FEC ruling on incumbent senate candidate Russ Feingold (who subsequently lost).

At the end of the column, "for a different take", Jones links us to a WSJ editorial on the subject, a piece of writing so unremittingly snarky it makes the queen of snark, Rachel Maddow, look like the Dalai Lama.

It starts out by charging "good-government liberals" (or 'goo-goos', in Journal-speak) with wanting to regulate "political speech" (code for unrestricted anonymous campaign funding) and goes downhill from there. We are asked to "celebrate…the death of campaign finance reform" (pace, John McCain) and to agree with the editors that every Democrat ("from President to dogcatcher") will be shifting the blame for their mid-term shellacking onto the Supreme Court (NB: I hasten to concede that some undoubtedly will).

While the Citizen's United decision may or may not be sound law, it certainly flies in the face of any republican concept about government's obligation to provide a level political playing-field. In fact, the Court itself held, in Austin v. Michigan Chamber of Commerce, that political speech may be banned based on the speaker's corporate identity. That ruling was intended to "prevent the corrosive and distorting effects of immense aggregations of [corporate] wealth...that have little or no correlation to the public's support for the corporation's political ideas." 'Nuf said.

My purpose here today is not, however, to wallow in the detritus of Citizens United, but to ponder the dichotomy of style and substance between the WSJ's news coverage and its editorial pages. One might ascribe it to Scott Fitzgerald's dictum that "the test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function", or we might, more churlishly, put it down to schizophrenia.

Corporate Personhood: Fact or Fantasy?

One of the delights associated with newspaper reading is the random encounter with an article whose headline might not have drawn you to it online, but which, with idle page-turning, happens to catch your attention for no reason other than pure serendipity.

Religion sections having become an exotic species in newspapers of late, my curiosity was piqued by a headline in the Cape Cod Times: Do Corporations Have Souls? The author (The Rev. Edmund Robinson) starts out with a Halloween peg about the ancient Celtic holiday of Samhain, during which "the veil between this world and the other world was said to be at its thinnest, allowing the fairy folk to escape the sidhe, or fairy hill, and wander about in human villages."

It was but a short narrative leap from those shades and spirits to the incorporeal entities now frighteningly empowered to fund election campaigns anonymously, courtesy of the Supreme Court's decision in Citizens United, a case which infamously declared corporations to be persons under the law, and therefore entitled to all of the free speech protections of the 1^st Amendment.

Robinson then proceeds to demolish the premise of corporate personhood as a theological absurdity, a compelling perspective not previously encountered in my readings on the subject.

We may of course choose to accept or reject his doctrinal arguments according to our own religious convictions, but there is no getting around his essentially humanistic contention that corporations are not people because they are not mortal, and, consequently, neither die nor harbor fear of death, a uniquely human imperative that existentially influences our behavior, hopefully for the better.

I commend the complete article to your attention.