Steve Schmidt’s Conservative Affirmative Action

Steve SchmidtLast night, I watched a little bit of the MSNBC coverage of the then upcoming State of the Union address. And what I saw so upset me that I didn’t even watch the event. It was big news yesterday that Iran had captured ten US Navy crew members. So it was time to start demagoguing! And there was Steve Schmidt on “liberal” MSNBC going on (and on and on) about how the president needed to change his speech and talk tough about Iran and under no circumstance should the president tout the Iranian nuclear deal because Iran is bad, bad, bad.

Chris Matthews fired back. He’s not an artful guy, but what he said was basically correct: the Republicans just look for anything to complain about the president, that it was a bad faith criticism, and that Schmidt himself was doing that. Schmidt defended himself by noting that his wife was in the Navy and through a kind of “some of my best friends are military,” claimed that he didn’t just want war.

What exactly Steve Schmidt is doing on television is unclear to me. If he had been more successful, we would have President McCain, be at war with Iran right now, and have Sarah Palin embarrassing us all over the world.

As I recall, both Rachel Maddow and Chris Hayes made the argument that the whole thing was a diplomatic issue and maybe the president would be wrong to politicize it and might put these very service members in jeopardy. All I could think at the time was that this was going to be how it was. It didn’t matter that the president wanted to use the SotU address to call for collaboration, it was all going to be about conservative jerks like Steve Schmidt going around claiming that Obama is weak because he doesn’t rip off his shirt and pound his chest.

At the actual SotU address, Obama went on with his speech as planned. He told the assembled conservative whiners that we had a solid economy, and, “The United States of America is the most powerful nation on Earth.” And then after the speech, the press was filled with headlines like this one in The Washington Post, Iran Releases Captured US Navy Crew Members. And there was this in The New York Times, Iran’s Swift Release of US Sailors Hailed as a Sign of Warmer Relations. Oh! So contrary to Steven Schmidt, it’s actually things like the Iran nuclear deal and the fact that Obama believes in diplomacy that made this whole thing a non-issue, except for the conservative ranters who are only interested in finding fault with the president because he happens to be a Democrat.

Now you might say that this is much ado about nothing. And that’s true in an absolute sense. It’s just that it is always true. What Steve Schmidt was really saying was that he doesn’t like the Iran nuclear deal, and he doesn’t like it because he doesn’t like the president, and he doesn’t like the president because he’s a conservative hack. Of course, what seems to have been lost in all of this is that it was actually America that was at fault. What Iran did is what we would have done in that circumstance. But any excuse for more whining from conservatives.

What exactly Steve Schmidt is doing on television is unclear to me. If he had been more successful, we would have President McCain, be at war with Iran right now, and have Sarah Palin embarrassing us all over the world. Someone on Twitter last night said that he should be on Fox News, but I countered that. Say what you will about Fox News, at least the people on it are interesting. Steve Schmidt is on MSNBC because the network is desperate to have some kind of conservative who can breath through his nose to sort of counter Rachel Maddow. I hope Schmidt realizes just how much he benefits from affirmative action.

Morning Music: The Edge

The EdgeToday, we come to the guitarist I was most thinking of when I started the week talking about guitarists who were focused on sound: David Howell Evans — better known as The Edge of the band U2. I’m not a huge fan of the band or even of The Edge as a guitarist. But he is a great guitarist and he is an even greater sculptor of sound. I think of him as the Brian Eno of the guitar.

What we have here is a collection of featured guitar parts from him on eleven different U2 songs. As I’ve noted, I’m not at home, so I’m not going to the trouble of making sure the following list is correct. But of the songs I know, it is right:

  1. 11 O’Clock Tick Tock
  2. Sunday Bloody Sunday
  3. New Year’s Day
  4. Bullet the Blue Sky
  5. Until the End of The World
  6. The Fly
  7. Mysterious Ways
  8. Love Is Blindness
  9. Please
  10. Miracle Drug
  11. Unknown Caller

It’s pretty amazing stuff. At the same time, it isn’t really my kind of stuff. I’m not that into sound. But I greatly admire it. And The Edge has been enormously influential. There are now two generations of guitarists who his thinking totally dominates. It’s pretty amazing, especially coming from such an unassuming fellow.

Update

I just found this article, The Top 5: Overrated Guitarists. It contained this, “Most sensible critics see the iconic U2 guitarist for what he is: a great sonic pioneer who turned out to be the perfect receptacle for Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois’ sonic experimentation.” I had never really thought much about the guy, so I was pleased to hear that my take on him was actually widely shared.

Anniversary Post: Nika Riots

Chariot RacesOn this day in 532, the Nika riots occurred. Basically, it was a fight that broke out by different partisans in the big chariot races in Constantinople. Now these partisans were, among other things, political parties. And they were angry about the arrests, three days earlier, of members of the Blues and Greens for murders that had occurred at a previous chariot race.

During the chariot races on 13 January 532, the fans stopped chanting “blue” or “green” and started chanting, “Nika.” This more or less means “win.” The main thing is that the people had united in their anger against Emperor Justinian. But Justinian was no fool; he understood how to divide and conquer. He sent word and gold to the Blues, who abandoned the Greens, allowing the troops to come in and slaughter them. In the end, half the city was burned and 30,000 of the rioters were killed.

The Nika riots were clearly a political uprising, but the proximate cause was the chariot race. It does remind me of football hooligans. But it more reminds me of terrorism. I doubt anyone at the time thought it was really all about chariot races. Yet there are a whole lot of people around today who think that terrorism is all about Islam. In fact, I’m still stinging about an argument I had some time ago where I let off an Islamophobe because I didn’t want to offend someone whose work I had admired. Since then, he’s shown that he is quite clearly an Islamophobe. The distance between New Atheist and Islamophobe can be a hair’s breadth.

Anyway: rioting over chariot races. Quite interesting just because, well: chariot races. Who’d have thought?

Afterword

On a personal note: my parents were married 55 years ago today. But my mother died over a decade ago.

Our Town’s “Happy” Ending

Our Town 1940

In 1938, Thornton Wilder wrote Our Town. It was hugely successful, ultimately winning the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. And as I’ve discussed, it is a fine play. Ultimately, what is most innovative about it can be found back in 1921 in Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author. But not everything needs to be innovative. And Our Town does deal with a fundamental issue about the perspective of life in an omniscient context.

This is established at the beginning of the play when the Stage Manager talks about the newspaper delivery boy, Joe Crowell. The Stage Manager tells us that he is very bright and will go on to graduate high school at the top of his class. Then he will go to Massachusetts Tech and graduate at the top of his class there. He was going to be a great engineer. But then World War I came and he was killed in France. The Stage Manager sums it up, “All that education, for nothing.”

But in the context of the play, that can be said about everything. The one thing that is most clear throughout the play is that people die. They live their lives and then they die. There isn’t much more to it than that. We may have a positive or negative impact on others, but they too will die. The significance of our lives is like an asymptote that approaches zero the further we move in time. Wilder seems to have something to say about appreciating the present, but it is vague and the play itself seems most interested in death.

It is thus interesting to see what Hollywood did with the play when they first tried to film it in 1940. Clearly, they had to get rid of the obvious theatrical nature of play. So there are real sets much like we found in director Sam Wood’s earlier film, Goodbye, Mr Chips. But that doesn’t really matter. Trying to maintain the “theaterness” of a play in a film is usually a bad idea. It’s better just to film a play, which worked well for the filmed versions in 1977 and 1989.

The problem with the film is the ending. As Emily, dead from her second childbirth, goes to visit her 16th birthday (12th in the play), she has the same reaction that she has in the play. “Oh, Earth you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? Oh, I want to live, I want to live, I want to live!”

And then she wakes up. It was all a delirium from her second pregnancy. Praise the Lord, they gave Our Town a happy ending! Or did they? After all, the film is otherwise very faithful to the play. We learn that Joe Crowell died in the war. Everyone dies. The film is still all about how people die and how they can’t see their lives in their completeness. But we are deprived of an edifying ending. We just get Emily having a bad dream. The film commits the same sin that the play indicts the whole of humanity for.

This is the problem with art as commodity. I can imagine the producers thinking that they needed to tack on a “happy” ending, even though the film itself isn’t happy. But it wasn’t just these money grubbing fools. The film was nominated for an Academy Award. It lost to Rebecca, but so did The Grapes of Wrath!

Anyway, I can’t imagine why people do this kind of thing. If you want to give people pleasant films, give them pleasant films. Don’t try to trick them into thinking that a sob-fest is okay because we get to end on a nice picture of Emily with her baby. Emily will die. And millions of women will die during childbirth. It’s a disgrace. Literally.


Original movie poster for the film Our Town (1940 film) by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia.

New Republic and the Pernicious Meddling of the the Rich

Chris HughesAs I was getting ready to leave town Monday morning, I saw that Chris Hughes had decided to sell New Republic. It’s interesting to me because I was harsh in my criticism of the late 2014 resignation debacle. I first wrote, New Republic: 1914 – 2014. And then later, Attack of the Crybaby: Why Chris Hughes Turned Against New Republic. It is this latter one that I find myself thinking about now. What exactly was Chris Hughes thinking all this time.

I don’t think that what happened is opened to debate. Hughes started by thinking it would be fun to own a magazine. He had a great time hanging out with really accomplished, sophisticated people who had earned their reputations at the top of the liberal publishing pyramid. It must have been heady for Hughes, because let’s not forget: all Hughes did was happen to be Mark Zuckerberg’s roommate. That’s it. There’s no doubt that he’s smart enough, but he isn’t even at Zuckerberg’s level, and that level is low itself.

But after hanging out with the cool kids for a couple of years, Hughes got bored with it. After all, people like Jeet Heer were little more than celebrities to Hughes. And the truth is to them, Hughes was probably just a rich kid who owed his position to luck. They appreciated the money, but that was as far as it went. So given that New Republic was no longer fun, Hughes had to come up with a reason to have bought it — something to save face. So he came up with the idea he would revolutionize publishing.

What it shows is that it is dangerous to have really rich people around. Hughes is like Bill and Melinda Gates. They are all people who think that because they are wealthy, they must be smart and able to fix difficult problems.

The problem was that Hughes couldn’t revolutionize anything — the best he could hope for is to be the roommate of someone who might revolutionize publishing. And that wasn’t going to happen. But even if he had been a genius, he didn’t understand the publishing industry. So he was destined to fail regardless. And so that led to his letter Monday where he announced that he was selling New Republic because of the question he can’t answer, “Can it find a sustainable business model that will power its journalism in the decades to come?”

Well, it’s going to be pretty hard to sell New Republic as anything but a brand name that someone might want to take on. Thirteen months ago, it employed a great staff of writers and editors. Now they are mostly distributed throughout the publishing industry. Now I pretty much only follow Brian Beutler and to a lesser extent Elizabeth Stoker. I don’t see who is going to be all that interested in buying Chris Hughes’ plaything now that he’s broken it.

Josh Marshall at Talking Points Memo made a great point about the constraints of running a news organization within a budget. That was something that Hughes had no interest in. The idea of managing New Republic better doesn’t seem to have ever occurred to him. Instead, he blew $20 million in four years. His idea seems to have been that he could use the power of the internet to turn the magazine into something really special. But of course, there are already millions of people on the internet trying to do that.

A lot of people are talking about the old New Republic business model: modest financial losses made up for with donations from rich donors. Certainly that is what I thought Chris Hughes was going to do when he first bought the magazine. But he’s turned out to be far more immature than that. He never had a plan. He never tried to make the magazine efficient. He just tried to have fun. And when he was done, he tried to say face.

His legacy will be that he destroyed the magazine. There really is no point in it continuing on. But of course, it will continue on — just like Netscape continues on. But what it shows is that it is dangerous to have really rich people around. Hughes is like Bill and Melinda Gates. They are all people who think that because they are wealthy, they must be smart and able to fix difficult problems. And because they can throw around a lot of money, there are always lots of people around to tell them they are right. But now that Hughes isn’t having fun and everyone is laughing at him for being incompetent, he’s giving up and going out looking for something else to have fun with. After the Gates Foundation manages to finish all its education “reforms” only to find that they’ve made things worse, the Gates will find something else that they don’t understand to help “fix.”

No one should care that New Republic is dying. But we should care very much that our excessive income inequality allows rich fools to destroy venerable institutions because they think their money makes them smart.

Morning Music: Frank Zappa

Frank ZappaI’ve long felt that Frank Zappa was one of the most underrated guitarists of all time. But it has only been over the last decade or so that I really began to appreciate his later work. When I was younger, I tended to miss what he did. Now, its brilliance seems self-evident.

In 1981, he released a double album of instrumental tunes called, Shut Up ‘n Play Yer Guitar. He eventually went on to release two followups. I’m not going to spend a lot of time on this. I think most people recognize the brilliance of Frank Zappa. It’s sad that we lost him so young.

Here is a nice pseudo-reggae tune, “Treacherous Cretins”:

Anniversary Post: 2010 Haiti Earthquake

Haiti Earthquake 2010On this day in 2010 was the 7.0 M earthquake in Haiti that killed well over 100,000 people. The death toll was so high because it struck the most populated area of the country. In all, over three million people were affected by it. I think Haiti is an embarrassment to the west. There is no reason for us to allow its people to live in such poverty and suffer so much. But of course, that’s the modern American way: people are divided into the winners and the losers — the producers and the moochers. If someone was a winner, they would be smart enough not to be born in Haiti.

Lumosity Can’t Help Your Brain or Your Soul

Lumosity“No matter why you want a better brain, Lumosity can help.” So said the endless ads with the squeaky clean faces and doodles drawn on and around those faces. It was supposed to help you “improve your performance with the science of neuroplasticity.” Reading it makes it sound kind of portentous, but the ads themselves came off more like an ad for visiting the local farmer’s market on Saturdays. It’s good for you — and the kind of thing that upper-middle class, college educated people do. Unfortunately, it turns out that attending the farmer’s market is about as effective as Lumosity at improving your performance “but in a way that just feels like games.”

Last week, Lumosity settled a $50 million lawsuit with the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) for false advertising. But they will only have to pay $2 million because the company is in bad financial shape. Now I’m not the kind of person to kick someone when they are down. So I leave it to you to piece together your own joke involving two or more of the words “bright,” “management,” “luminous,” “brain-training,” and “bankruptcy.” But it is a serious matter, because the company made some outrageous claims. As Jessica Rich at the FTC said:

Lumosity preyed on consumers’ fears about age-related cognitive decline, suggesting their games could stave off memory loss, dementia, and even Alzheimer’s disease. But Lumosity simply did not have the science to back up its ads.

But there was apparently one thing that Lumosity did help people with the training itself. As Michael Hiltzik put it, “The largest studies indicate there’s no effect except for performance on the tests themselves — possibly the result of increased familiarity with the tests.” And that’s great! But Noodlecake Studios’ Brickies is more fun and doesn’t cost $14.95 per month. (In fact, it is free.)

I understand the fear. But the commercials were clearly making an emotional appeal rather than an intellectual one. It was the “one weird trick” for losing belly fat — but for your brain. But I wonder about the people who liked these ads. And there are apparently 35 million people who pay for this service every month. I’m very much aware of my own mental deterioration over the years. But it isn’t as simple as my being smarter before. I know that I’m just not as good at doing quick mathematical computations. But it’s possible that is due to an autism like effect, where I was better at that kind of stuff because I didn’t think about much else.

With age comes different abilities. I’m able to make vastly more complex and creative connections than I could when I was 25 years old. But I was better at solving differential equations then. Lumosity promised to get me those old days back. But I’m highly skeptical that I could get that kind of brain processing back without losing the far more valuable things I’ve gained since. So the woman in the commercial who wants to “remember people’s names” strikes me as having an awfully dangerous desire.[1] Are we willing to give up a profound understanding of the system of people we interact with just so we can know their names, like we are performing Harry Lorayne’s memory trick?

I don’t know what people want from their brains. My longstanding belief has been that it is far more important to be interesting than “smart.” And that is usually just a question of people being themselves. I have one friend who is incredibly well read — especially when it comes to philosophy. And he can be annoying to talk to, because he can (And does!) name an author who wrote about any “new” idea I’ve recently been thinking of. It tends to be a conversation stopper. At the same time, many people I consider a bit dim can make me rethink the whole world.

So even if Lumosity were delivering on its promises, I think what it was offering was awful: junk food for the brain and the soul.

Copyright Crazy and the Death of Creativity

Obama Hope: Fair Use CopyrightA lot of my day job involves work about copyright. That is why you will notice that I am now so careful about using only free and fair use images and giving credit. It’s made me paranoid. But also, I really didn’t know much in the past. I thought, for example, I could take anything from Wikipedia and it was okay. It turns out, that’s not true. All images on the site are free, but most of them require attribution. I’ve just taken to providing attribution regardless, because I like giving people credit. I’m grateful that I can use their work to provide a better experience for my readers.

But last night, I was thinking about the Barack Obama “Hope” poster, which was created by Shepard Fairey. It’s a beautiful design. And after thousands of parodies, beyond the visual idea, it is clearly hard to render well. But back in 2009, I was listening to Fresh Air, and Mannie Garcia was being interviewed. He was a photographer for the Associated Press, and it turned out that Fairey had used one of Garcia’s photos as the basis of the “Hope” poster. It was because there was a legal battle going on: how dare Fairey “steal” Garcia’s work!

The original purpose of copyright was to encourage the creative arts. It has been a long time since that’s been true. Now copyright discourages the creative arts.

As a legal matter, I think what Fairey did was entirely in keeping with the letter and spirit of fair use. Garcia had taken thousands of photos. He didn’t recognize that Fairey had used his image because Fairey hadn’t. Fairey used a small part of one of his images and made something totally new. But Fairey knew the slippery legal foundation of all this because he tried to hide the source of his poster. That was stupid, but probably standard operating procedure, because the way the law works, if everyone had a good enough lawyer, nothing would ever be created.

The way it worked out, Fairey and the AP made a settlement where they would share the royalties going forward. I believe Garcia was squeezed out of the deal all together. Think about that. Fairey takes a small part of an endless supply of photographs that the AP publishes, each of which has negligible marginal value. He turns it into something that is not only of great cultural important but also of great financial value. And he has to share the profits from that. This is rent seeking, pure and simple. This isn’t about art. The AP hired Garcia because they wanted photos to go with an event that was being covered. This is just a big business forcing an innovative small business to pay it money. It is a kind of protection racket for big corporations.

But what bugged me in the interview was that Garcia was offended at the idea Fairey would just go online and look for images — that he did not “condone people taking things, just because they can, off the Internet.” The nature of all art is acquisition. But in the visual arts, it’s totally out of hand. No one would ever be sued for using the phrase, “Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.” Yet that is exactly what happened in the case of the “Hope” poster. In fact, it was even worse, because that particular element of that particular photo is not nearly as memorable — and creative — as Chomsky’s sentence.

The original purpose of copyright was to encourage the creative arts. It has been a long time since that’s been true. Now copyright discourages the creative arts. All copyright really encourages is the promotion of things that look salable and legal action against creative workers. It’s sad. And it means that creativity has been corporatized. It’s just another sign of an empire in decline.

Afterword: Copyright and Fair Use

It’s amusing that Fairey couldn’t use part of the original image to make his iconic poster. But Wikipedia can now use his poster — a far greater creative achievement — under fair use.

Morning Music: Joe Satriani

Surfing with the Alien - Joe SatrianiI’ve decided to just run through some guitarists I admire. But not just any guitarists. Last week I did guitarists I admired: acoustic blues guitarists. I want to focus now on electric guitar players with a focus on people who craft sound as well as music. Today, I’ve picked Joe Satriani. Now he isn’t such a sound craftsman. But I do love the sounds he makes. But mostly he’s just really good without a lot of nonsense. He keeps the focus on the music.

Well, I’ll admit: live he can become a bit much. But that’s what you expect from a jazz musician. And that is basically what Joe Satriani is. It’s just that he insists on not playing jazz. He is a lot like Frank Zappa. They are guys who I think want (wanted) to play jazz but know (knew) where the money was. Regardless, Satriani’s music has a jazz fusion feel to it. But it’s missing the harmonic complexity to really delight me.

Still, it’s hard not to listen to him play just about anything and not sit in awe. Music is interesting in that an instrument in the wrong hands just is noise. And that’s especially true on the guitar. In the hands of someone like Joe Satriani, it sounds like he was born attached to it — like he’s singing rather than playing.

Anyway, here is probably the first song of his I ever noticed, “Always With Me, Always With You” off his second album, Surfing with the Alien. It appeals to me more than his hard rocking numbers. Because I’m an old guy now. But really, how can you not love this, except that it was once overplayed:

Anniversary Post: Discovery of Titania and Oberon

TitaniaOn this night in 1787, William Herschel discovered the two largest moons of Uranus: Titania and Oberon. He had also discovered the planet six years earlier. Of course, “discovered” is a strange word, because Hipparchos recorded it as early as 128 BC. But he thought it was a star. Herschel himself originally thought it a comet. This is one of the reasons that I think everyone really owes it to themselves to go visit some amateur astronomers. Spend a night in the cold and see with our advanced technologies, just how hard it is to tell a star from a comet from a planet. And also note just how many stars are in the sky. And how vast it all is. It is a spiritual experience.

But the issue at hand today is the discovery of these first two moons. They’re tiny. Well, a bit more than half the radius of Pluto, and a quarter its mass. Larger, but comparable in size to Pluto’s biggest moon Charon. I still find it amazing. Our Moon is the fifth largest moon in the solar system; it’s very large compared to the Earth. And Charon is huge compared to Pluto. But Uranus has these tiny moons. Of course, that makes the detection of them all the more amazing.

Titania and Oberon are very similar: size, mass, inclination, eccentricity. They have the same composition: about half and half rock and ice. In fact, they are so much alike, it’s kind of creepy. The main difference between them is that Oberon has a whole lot more craters. It is assumed that Titania experienced some recent major event that covered over the old surface. If you look at the image above, you can see an enormous impact in the upper right-hand corner. Could it be that a huge impact temporarily liquefied the surface? I’ve never heard anyone argue that, and I do know that our Moon has bigger impacts. But it isn’t half made of ice!

It’s interesting that Herschel named the moons after the two most boring characters in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Okay. Not the most boring, but I’ve always found that subplot very lame and kind of misogynistic. Anyway, I don’t know what to think of objects like these in space. The solar system is a bizarre place. And our solar system is really boring. Thank God! If I gave it more thought, I’d spend all my time hiding under the bed. But it’s great that people like William Herschel are around looking at the skies. And like I said: you really should go out. I’ve put in my time. Although I still gaze at the night sky every chance I get — just not huddled around a telescope for hours at a time.

On Sobbing and Being a Blubbering Fool

SobbingSaturday afternoon, I was sobbing in a car.

I was listening to a little bit of This American Life. It was the episode, 20 Acts in 60 Minutes. It was a rebroadcast from back in 2003. And I’d heard the whole thing at least two times before. But it got to the last act, “The Greatest Moment I Ever Saw On a Stage.” It’s the story of these girls at a detention facility putting on a show for their families — mostly their mothers and grandmothers. It’s just three minutes long. Go and listen. I’ll wait.

And it made me sob as I was driving around the rainy streets. And it made me sob every other time I had heard it. And after I left the car (I didn’t even hear all of it this time), I still kept breaking down. I’m doing it to a lesser extent as I write this. And it’s just sentimental nonsense. It strikes very sharply at my strong feelings about the bounds between parents and children — especially when one or both are not at their best. But mostly, it made me cry because pretty much everything makes me cry. I cried when I saw President Obama cry. Crying is something I am very good at.

But it was not always so. When I was younger, I could barely cry. I was raised to be stoic. But I remember when that all changed. It was my first year of graduate school. A friend of mine had given me a box of VHS tapes that he had recorded off PBS. These included some things I loved: The Day the Universe Changed; the first Connections; The Voyage of Charles Darwin; and my absolute favorite, In Search of the Trojan War. But it also contained The Adams Chronicles, which I had never seen.

So one Sunday, I just watched it from beginning to end — all 13 hours. It was not my intent to watch the whole thing. But it was such a parade of death, I hoped that it would get better. It seemed to frame everyone’s life as: what they did before they had a profoundly sad deathbed scene. Not only did this play into my sentimentality about familial relationships, it fed into my great fear of death. At that time, I really was disturbed about death. Now I don’t know what the big deal was. It is hard to regain that state of mind. But it bothered me greatly. I guess it has something to do with being too attached to the world. Now I think of Simon Stimson’s outburst at the end of Our Town:

Yes, now you know. Now you know! That’s what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those… of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion, or another. Now you know — that’s the happy existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness.

Regardless, I probably spent half of those 13 hours sobbing. And that seems to have been it. There was a wall that somehow kept back the sadness of life and the sentimentality toward idealized relationships and the rage about the constant injustices of life. And then it was gone and the emotions flowed like the waters of the Kangding-Luding flood. So I am a sobbing and blubbering fool. But it is preferable to the alternative. I don’t do stoic well.