2010 — 16 March: Tuesday

Seems to have been frosty overnight — a dash of ice is just (08:59) disappearing from the roof tiles not in direct sunlight. All the rest has vanished as completely as if the Snark was a Boojum. Time for a cuppa.

Having skimmed both the Guardian and the BBC I've now alighted (that butterfly mind) on a piece written by the former deputy Taste editor of the Wall Street Journal. It only goes to show...

Last year, according to the Year's Work in English Literature, more than one hundred new scholarly books were published on Shakespeare. What were the authors thinking? First, no doubt, of promotion. The entire academy is now structured around this outrageous quantity of publication. Studies show that even small liberal arts colleges place a premium on publication over teaching when deciding to hire. But the other thing these faculty members must have thought is, "I have something new to say about Shakespeare." That is an incredible claim, requiring an eyebrow-raising level of audacity. A naïve onlooker would have to ask, "Really?"

Naomi Schaefer Riley in In Character


I've always felt I was that naïve onlooker... While one might think the many authors are merely being pragmatic:

Pragmatism takes that hope away and tells us that all we can do is muddle through, that we have been muddling through for a long time, and that, with luck, we will continue to muddle through, and in the process, perhaps, develop new forms of the "cultural artifact" we are and develop too new forms of knowledge to serve our artefactual purposes.

Stanley Fish in NY Times blog


Though why the noun would take an "i" where the adjective takes an "e" escapes me.

My powers of reasoning will doubtless improve with breakfast. Meanwhile, I'd love to have seen what the late Molly Ivins would have made of this. (Or George Orwell, for that matter.)

Good afternoon!

But where the devil did the morning escape to? Even "lemonses" is only just happening. This is the life, heh?

Did I ever mention, by the way, that I thought the Times had fallen an awfully long way from its presumed state of grace since its change of ownership? An astonishing claim, I fully realise, but here's a tiny piece of evidence:

Neil Gabler recently argued in Newsweek that the media's focus on celebrities amounts to "a new art form that competes with — and often supersedes — more traditional entertainments." Indeed, he claims that "celebrity is the great new art form of the twenty-first century." In the same way, Igor Toronyi-Lalic wrote in the Times of London that the British reality TV series Big Brother amounted to "a bracingly original and effective new art — the greatest of the past decade." Of course, if you believe that, criticism can have nothing to say to you — a fact that, by itself, might be enough to cast some doubt on such contentions in some people's minds.

James Bowman in The New Atlantis


Where's that cuppa?

And what is it about one file in every 500 or so that makes my iMac refuse to copy it from one of my XP machines to my iMac on the illogical grounds that I lack the permissions when I've generated the damn' thing identically to the other 499 or so in each case? Industrial strength software, no doubt. Meanwhile NPR has just offered a caller (a Congressman, no less) talking about "palatable" disappointment when he clearly meant "palpable". Ho-hum.

Good evening!

How come I'm so tired? It's only 20:27 but I'm drooping a bit. Must be time for a cuppa and a bite of suppa. I enjoyed "Matilda" immensely, by the way. The Hugo Young papers are a wee bit heavier. Plans are made for a shortish walk in the New Forest tomorrow. But (yawn) I'm predicting an early night tonight. It's 21:53 and the lazy domestic slob who lives here has yet to dish1 the dos. Grrr.

  

Footnote

1  In my defence, I did the dishes for Christa, too.