Back & forth

Earlier today I read Lisa Selin Davis on Democrats and gender medicine. That's a subject that I'm not going to go into because I don't think too often about it. But it did make me think about debate, and what's happened to it.

Public debates on hot topics became a big thing (again) in the 60s. And they were not the kinds of debate where liberals tiptoe around other liberals. Very often what you'd see is, "Norman Mailer and Random Black Panther call each other the Antichrist, agree women belong in the kitchen." You don't miss it until it's gone. 

And nobody expected it to ever be gone. Because what it was was open argument. Whether or not they had explicitly agreed to disagree, everyone knew they'd be disagreeing. There was no reason to hold back, to be anything less than honest.

"Liberals tiptoeing around each other" was more a feature of turn-of-the-millennium rhetoric. And of course smartphones have made the problem worse because the groups who discuss things amongst themselves are now so much more homogeneous.  And then when a truly extreme idea arises, no one knows what to do with it. Except maybe give in.

Shifty character

I'm currently reading The Impostor Heiress, by Annie Reed. It's about Cassie Chadwick, who was born Elizabeth Bigley.

Chadwick was Canadian by birth, but mostly operated in the bigger cities of Ohio. She had a varied career, which included both a pretty much run-of-the-mill check kiting scheme and a clairvoyant act. Her biggest caper was attempting to pass herself off as Andrew Carnegie's illegitimate daughter.

How did all of this work out for her? Not well. While there are careers that strive for immortality, impostors and con artists prefer to remain anonymous. This doesn't really require explanation. But if Cassie Chadwick wasn't exactly a success in her choice of criminal enterprise, she did manage to make the world a more colorful place while she was in it.

Rock dwellers

 

Pikas are, as stated here, relatives of rabbits. They look it, too. So it's interesting that their survival strategies are so far apart. Rabbits burrow into the soft ground, the low ground. It can be in country, city, or suburb. Pikas live high up, among rocks. And it's through that difference that they have ultimately become a different creature.

Our betters

Know that at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, a professor has been suspended and is under investigation because she mentioned Palestine in a class assignment. No, really, that's what it's about.

It's also not the first time the SAIC has brought down the hammer on that particular topic. They did some shutting down just back in April.

We're also at a point where war-wary combat veteran Graham Platner has become the presumptive nominee for US Senator in Maine, and both parties are ratfucking his campaign to death. Well, trying to, anyway.

I remember in the 2000s being told that real Americans were all for kicking ass in the Mideast, and only subversives and hipsters were concerned about Arab lives at all. Even then, that was a crass generalization. Still, more recent turns of events have been weird. The broad American populace is now markedly dovish on things like Israel and Iran. And the institutions? Don't care at all. They're backing the neocons all the way, often at the expense of things like free speech.

Something garish

Like I was hoping, I managed to get to sleep the last couple of nights without taking any cough medication. It looks pretty good for tonight, as well. 

There's a reason I prefer this. Besides the taste, which is never particularly good and often wince-inducing. The other thing is that it seems to make my dreams more violent. For instance I dreamed about walking through a door and knowing without looking that the guy who was walking behind me didn't have his head anymore. 

Some of this can be useful for a self-styled creative type, especially if you deal with somewhat dark subject matter. But every night? Nah, take it down a notch.

snap-snap

 

If you asked me who my favorite black comedy cartoonist is, I'd have to say Gahan Wilson. But I have to admit that Charles Addams was a true pioneer in that area. And a very funny one.

One thing I hadn't know is that he lived and created up until 1988. Some of his works―largely single panels and covers for The New Yorker―came while I was in high school. Changes your perspective. 

It's also kind of funny that he looked an odd bit like Gomez Addams but with a bigger wardrobe.

Picturesque

Portmeirion is a colorful Gwynedd village, as seen on TV. It is, of course The Village featured in Patrick McGoohan's The Prisoner. Its Mediterranean flourishes and children's book elan made it both quaint and otherworldly. Later on, Doctor Who would also film there, in a serial called "The Masque of Mandragora" and actually set in Renaissance Italy.

But while these pieces of iconic British telly probably made Portmeirion more famous than it otherwise would have been, it always would have had a reputation. It looks like nowhere else. 

Its big moment in the sun came when it was only a few decades old. The village was the passion project of Sir Clough Williams-Ellis, a very accomplished Welsh architect. The whole thing must have been a peak experience for him.