link – investment vs speculation

Goodness, I have no idea whether I’m a distributist or not (someone maybe could tell me), and I certainly don’t know whether The Distributist Review is generally a good blog or not.  But here’s a useful post:  The Wealth Delusion.  Go read it.  All about what I’m all about: economics needs to reflect reality, not fantasy.


New Link Day

Stars are aligning . . . though it’s no longer Friday, certainly not the 5th Friday, I’m alarmingly short of ire, and we’re overdue for a new link day.  So time for a modest amount of site maintenance.

What we’ve got:

Happy Catholic.  What it sounds like.  I almost made a special category for readers’ blogs, to celebrate the arrival of a reader who was not already on the blogroll.  But all the clever names I could come up with for the category would have put Happy Catholic too low on the list.  And that wouldn’t do.

Secondhand Smoke.  Your spot for bioethics issues

Reflections of a Paralytic.  Another one that could go in multiple places.  Running a lot of posts on the Theology of the Body right now.

XXX Church.  Christian site (not a blog, I don’t think) with a ministry for those escaping porn.  Users & workers both.

The IRS.  ‘Tis the season.  I use this every year. Much more helpful than you’d guess.

Enjoy your reading this week.  For those interested in such things, my review of The Apostles comes out “Wednesday” (so to speak) on the homeschooling blog.  Good news: The reading gets a lot easier once you get into the second half of the book.

Book, er, Podcast recommendation – Disability & Social Justice

It’s a quiet afternoon.  Big kids are at friends’ houses, the baby is napping, the house is all yours.  The kitchen could use some attention, but that’s never bothered you before.  What you need is to settle down in the recliner with a bag of chocolate chips and a philosophy podcast.

Specifically this one: Chris Tollefsen’s talk on Disability and Social Justice, given at Anselm College this fall.

Count me in the ranks of the philosophically ignorant.  Historically my efforts at studying the topic have been met with disaster.  (As certain of Dr. Tollefsen’s colleagues can attest, if they have not supressed the memory.)  And I’ll admit very plainly that there were bits of this talk where I just did my best to pay attention, and hope that sooner or later it would start making sense again.  Because I couldn’t follow all the references quickly enough — what I really needed was a transcript I could read slowly, but so far no luck searching the internet.  Have a tried contacting the author? Of course not.  That would be logical.  But next time I see him I’ll put in my request.  Honestly I hesitated to do so because I was concerned it would be either too difficult or not quite my thing, or both.   Didn’t want to bother a perfectly good philosopher just to satisfy my curiosity. But now I know better.   It was challenging for me to follow, but not too much to make it worth the effort.

So, if it isn’t too hard for me, it isn’t too hard for you, either.  Indeed since 80% of my readers are smarter than me, it should be a piece of cake for most of you, and the other one can manage at least as well as I did.  When it gets to a bit where you start to lose track of the ideas, just hang in there, because more good stuff is just around the corner.  Do allow a bit of time to listen, it is a fairly long talk.  And allow for some quiet, you need to be able to pay attention and think.

–> Handy tip:  The inaudibly asked questions (during the Q&A at the end) are all fairly long.  You can safely run your trash to the curb while you wait to hear Dr. Tollefsen’s reply, assuming your curb isn’t too far away.

So what’s in this podcast that makes it rate my monthly recommended reading (er, listening) post? If I understood him correctly (debatable point), his argument went something like this:

-Interdependence is normal for human beings.  The idea of ‘self-sufficiency’ cannot be applied to people in a meaningful way.

-We tend to think of government being a contract by and for citizens.  That is, people who are capable of consenting to their government and interacting with it.

-Not so.  Government exists to provide for the human needs that individuals and social groups (family, friends, church, etc.) are unable to provide themselves.  Think: protection from enemies, etc.

–> Government as a contract between citizens is a *form* of government, not the purpose of government.

-Understanding this gives us a more accurate way of addressing the needs of people who are disabled, who are dependent on others for care (for whatever reason), as well as those to whom the caregiving responsibilities fall.

Also in there: Why one of the legitimate roles of government is to provide a moral environment that promotes virtue.  (Answer: we are unable to do it for ourself.  We cannot individually create the environment in which we live, we need the cooperation of wider society).  And how this fits into the challenge of providing for the needs of caregivers and the cared-for.

Worth listening for: The comment on how providing for the needs of people with disabilities, caregivers, and others fits into the balance of providing for other legitimate demands on the government.  It’s quick and at the end, but provides some helpful perspective.

And much, much more.  Check it out.  Not just to see how badly I mangled a perfectly good philosophy lecture, but in order to enjoy the lecture itself.

Humor: How to Identify

In my goofing off I noticed a bit of discussion today about whether this weekend’s SNL was funny or  offensive.  Haven’t seen the episode, and have other more important internet laziness calling my attentions, so I won’t.  [Why would I want to watch something that a number of very sensible people tell me is objectionable, anyway?  When I could be reading more back-issues of Dr. Boli?  Pretty easy decision for me.]

All the same, as parents of an eight-year-old boy, the SuperHusband and I have had many opportunities to reflect on what does and does not constitute humor.  A few thoughts, not very well edited because my goofing-off time is coming to an end, and I want to just get the ideas out there today.  But here for you to ponder however confusedly, while I go make dinner and clean the house:

Humor is based on comparison. The comparison can come in many forms, but it is always there.  In a pun, it the similarity in sound between two words or phrases, combined with an apropos meaning given the context of the joke. (Why is the baker cruel? Because he whips the cream and beats the eggs.)  In slapstick humor, it is a comparison between what should have happened (walked through the door unharmed) and what did happen (a bucket of water fell on my head).   In satire, the comparison is built by taking what we know to be true about a person, and applying it in an extreme (play Sarah Palin as if she’s even flightier-sounding than she really is) or out of context (Bob Dole runs a daycare).

–> In order to understand a joke, one must be able to recognize the comparison.  This is why, say, philosophy jokes have a very limited audience.  They may be hilarious, but few audiences have the knowledge required in order to catch the comparison on which they hinge.  Usually, though, even when the audience doesn’t ‘get’ a joke (that would be me, listening to my peers tell philosophy jokes), they are merely puzzled, not offended.

So what distinguishes between a joke that is truly offensive, and one that really was funny, but the audience had no sense of humor?

Sore topics aren’t funny when the joke is told by the guilty party to the offended partyEven if they are otherwise fair game. Double standard? No.  It’s a violation of the comparison rule.  It isn’t a joke if it is really happening, or likely to happen.

This poses a real problem for the modern satirist, as the things we joke about now seem to come true dreadfully quickly.  To review real quickly as we develop our main point, a couple of examples of possibly funny versus not funny, based not on teller, but on the premise that it isn’t a comparison if it is the literal truth:

Possibly funny: The CIA is going to subject captured enemy combatants  to Wheelock’s Latin in order to get them talk.    Not funny: ‘Jokes’ about actually torturing people, that are based on real torturers committing their real crimes on their real victims.

Possibly funny: Jokes about other species engaging in suicide.  Not funny: Most jokes about humans engaging in suicide.  (This used to be possibly funny, because it wasn’t true.  But now that large segments of the population have decided that suicide is acceptable — it isn’t — there are very few suicide jokes left.  None come to mind.  On the other hand, you can now joke about judges who declare people must stay alive until their natural death, since that is, sadly, now parody.  Hopefully only temporarily.)

So, getting back to our main issue: if I tell my eight-year-old, “Don’t touch my chocolate or I’m selling you to the salt mines”, it’s humor.  He knows I would never, ever, sell him to the salt mines.   But if I say, “Or no dessert for you,” it is not humor.  He knows that missing out on dessert is a very real possibility, based on his parents’ past behavior.

–> For this reason, parents who do sell their children to the salt mines have fewer humor options than average.  Virtue has its rewards.  Which leads to the next point:

Humor Depends on the Teller’s Credentials In most circles, one can safely tell accountant jokes, because there is very little anti-accountant persecution.  It is generally assumed the joke is well-meant poking of fun.  (Even though, in fact, most accountant jokes fall flat.  Not because accountants aren’t a lively bunch, full of interesting fodder for the satirist, but because the general public is woefully ignorant of the true esprit of the accountant, and tends to rely on the same tired and shallow assumptions decade in and decade out.  But lame humor is not necessarily offensive.  We’ll chuckle politely for you, or at least kind of twitch the lip a little to acknowledge you spoke.)

In contrast, when a group of people is subject to discrimination, hate, condescension, or other meanness in the wider society, it becomes necessary for the joke-teller to prove beyond all doubt that no derision is meant by the joke.  If this criteria can’t be meant, the joke is probably going to be received as offensive.  (This is a shame, because it deprives many innocent people of perfectly good humor.  But it is the reality all the same — our sins affect others more than we realize.)  So, for example, among southerners, humor about the idiosyncrasies of southern life is quite funny.  Told by a southerner to others? Still funny.  But told by damn Yankees people not from the south, the same jokes can be received as offensive, for there is a certain amount of cultural history that can leave one wondering whether the joke is meant as true humor, or as a veiled insult.

–> SNL treaded on dangerous ground, because they are part of a group known as the “mainstream media”.  And the mainstream media is notorious for producing all kinds of garbage that is offensive to people with disabilities (and thus to anyone with the ability to detect nonsense).  Therefore, if SNL meant to be genuinely funny, it had to prove beyond all doubt that it was not engaging in the same obnoxious blather that its colleagues churn out so regularly.

This phenomenon leads to a general rule, that one can only make fun of oneself and one’s own group.  This rule is not, however, strictly accurate. Both for the reason that a) it is possible to insult oneself and that b) it is possible to be a person of goodwill and good sense towards others.  So, even southern accountants can tell offensive southern accountant jokes (but not on this blog, I hope), and even non-southern, non-accountants can tell enjoyable southern accountant jokes.  (Don’t expect to see a compendium of such jokes published any time soon, however.)

All that said, certain groups of people have experienced such shoddy treatment at the hands of others that their sense of humor has been injured.   As it is not especially difficult to identify shoddy treatment present or past, it behooves others to be mindful of the lingering pain, and politely go find some other topic for one’s jokes.  Humor is part of the healing process, but humor inflicted from without is generally not the healing type.

What is especially egregious about the SNL fiasco?  Chances are the SNL writers didn’t even realize they were dealing with an easily-offended audience –> which is to say, with a group of people who has consistently received ill-treatment at the hands of wider society.

On the one hand, it’s a bizarre problem, given that eugenics movement and the ensuing marginalization of people with disabilities has been around for nearly a century and half now — plenty of time for an SNL writer to develop an awareness of the problem.  (And even, perhaps, to care enough about it to write some good satire on the topic.)  On the other hand, it proves the point: the whole complaint is that people with disabilities are marginalized in our society.   To the point that SNL doesn’t even know you’re there.  Let alone that you are mighty touchy just now.

–> Good humor requires you to know your topic.  Because humor depends on the comparison, an inaccurate comparison makes for poor humor.  Listen to a four-year-old try to tell a riddle. Very painful.  Poor child doesn’t quite know what a pun is yet, and therefore just tries for any random silly words that come to mind.  (Four-year-olds, on the other hand, understand slapstick quite well.)  And this same knowledge that makes for good humor is also what keeps you from being offensive, because you will know that you are dealing with a potentially sore topic.  The SNL writers offended because they tread on ground they didn’t know.

The good news is, this is knowable ground.  There are so many directions SNL could have taken the Paterson joke that would have been genuinely funny.  Funny in a way that resonated with the subject audience, and brought reality to tlhe attention of the general public.   Which is what good humor does.

Dr. Boli’s Celebrated Magazine

Thanks to Happy Catholic for directing readers here.  Can’t believe I’ve been missing out all this time — not to worry, I’m increasingly caught up.  (With my internet reading.  Pile of papers under the desk is as unfiled as ever.)

 

Readers of this blog may also enjoy Dr. Boli’s links to his alter-ego’s non-humor blogs.  Patristics, Pittsburgh, The Grail Code, things like that.

thought for food

Darwin Catholic makes a pointed Thanksgiving observation about how far removed most Americans are from the source of their food:

. . . we modern Americans would do well to recall that food comes from somewhere — and indeed that it either comes or it doesn’t. One may talk of rights to food and shelter and medical care and such all day long. But at the most basic, human level: our existence and comfort depends on those who till the soil . . .

And what I would like to observe is this: Farming is skilled labor.

When I read about the history of education, it seems like what usually gets published is the history of literacy.  The underlying assumption is that if a child isn’t taught to read and write, he isn’t taught.

Don’t mistake me, I am enormously in favor of the widespread practice of literary skills, and have the bookshelves and the blogs to prove it.  But at the end of day, I know two things:

-I can’t eat books.

-I don’t know how to farm.

And from this, I make two further conclusions:

– Farming is, on the list of human pursuits, priority #1*.

-Farming is a skill that needs to be taught.

This in turns tells me that all those generations of people who taught their children how to grow food, but never did get to the business reading and writing, these were people with their priorities in order.   People to whom the rest of us owe an enormous thanks, for it is their diligence that gave us our existence.

I am concerned that my generation knows so little about the growing of food.  The SuperHusband & I both have grandparents who grew up on farms; as adults though they practiced other professions, they continued to grow a significant portion of their own food.  The same can be said of several of my neighbors — like my grandparents, they either have very large gardens in the yard, or else own a second parcel of land they cultivate for food.

But this skill and practice has not been handed down.  My parents gardened occasionally — they knew how — but not so much that they taught us.  Our generation wants to have a garden, and we’re pretty happy if we get a few tomatoes out of it.  It is a skill we never learned as children, and don’t integrate into our lives as adults.  We seem to always be finding some other activity is more important.

We aren’t starving as a result.  Specialization of labor has done what it promises: those of my generation who do know how to farm, do it amazingly well — well enough to feed the rest of us with no apparent difficulty.  And I’m all about specialization of labor — I haven’t got the body for farming whether I wanted to do it or not.  (And I like doing other things anyway.)  But still, I think we are, as a society, over-specialized to the point of being a bit impoverished by it.  It’s a poverty we don’t notice, but I think it is there all the same.

*Alongside the worship of God, of course.  The two seem to go hand in hand rather naturally . . . wow, almost amazingly joined as, say, the body & soul that make up a human being.  Go figure.

‘5th Friday’ – Playing Around with History and Languages

Okay, so it is no longer the 5th Friday, and won’t even be the 1st Saturday much longer, but I’ve finally got your new links for you.

***

First a quick mention of a couple I put up on my other blog this week, just FYI:  In addition to my reputable vendors list, I’ve gone and sneaked on a small ‘prayer on the internet’ category of links over at the other blog.  Look if you like, but the one you should know about yesterday is:  NaPraMoGo 2008 – Pray 15 More Minutes a Day, led by the Ironic Catholic. Who observes, “The Ironic Catholic blog is silly and satire, but praying is not. This is for real.”

***

And now for this site, putting up a few of what I think of as history links, though most of them aren’t going into the ‘history’ folder:

The Society for Creative Ananchronism – A bunch of goofy history buffs having too much fun — but also doing a little bit of historical research in the process. Oh come on, you know you want to dress up in funny clothes, adopt a medieval name, and bash someone on the helm with a wooden sword.  You know you do, don’t deny it.

The Web Gallery of Art – What it sounds like.  Searchable art gallery covering European Art from 1100 to 1850. Kind of like going to the Louvre, only instead of sore feet you can get carpal tunnel (and, if you live any distance from Paris, save a little time and money while you’re at it).

The Lexique d’Ancien Français is a searchable database of old French, but you need to know the new french in order to use it.  Stuck it into a new folder called, generically, ‘Foreign Languages’.  What with having so few links in the category yet, it didn’t seem right to specialize into “Languages People Only Spoke Very Briefly”, tempting though it was.  I would observe that these transitory languages can be quite fun, because if you know the before-and-after languages, you can quickly get a dose of the in-between language without a whole lot of work.

While I’m at it, here’s a handy Wikipedia article on the topic (again, you need to know new french to read about the old).

Chantez-Vous Français? Is more of the same.  If the subtitle, <<Remarques curieuses sur le français chanté du Moyen Age à la période baroque>> means anything to you, go check it out.

And at long last, if you desperately wanted to learn about Old French but had hoped to do so in English, Old French Online, courtesy of the Linguistics Research Center at UT – Austin has come to your rescue.

If you wish to test your Old-ish French reading skills, the project Gutenberg has a copy of Le Chevalier Deliberé posted.  Circa 1500, so beginning to be quite manageable for the junior linguist.

And to finish, something that isn’t history at all is the fun (but with a maddeningly busy intro page) Les langues de France en chanson, specializing in music of the various languages spoken in France today.  (If you were under the impression that “French” was the language of France, there’s something we need to tell you . . .)

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That will do it for today.  Happy All Souls Day, and thanks for your patience this round.

Catholic Writers’ Conference

The Catholic Writers’ Guild is putting on another on-line Catholic Writers’ Conference coming up at the beginning of February.  Registration is free, and you can participate as much or as little as you want.  If you enjoy writing I recommend you give it a try.

Go ahead and register now at http://www.catholicwritersconference.com/index.php.

***

BTW: I happen to know that several of my readers here are qualified to lead workshops at this conference.   So you might, ahem, go volunteer to lend your expertise.  Good for business.

***

I attended last year, and found the conference to be very enjoyable and informative.* The conference included workshops on all genres, and is relevant whether you tend to write for the ‘catholic’ market or for the wider public.  Workshops covered both writing skills and getting-yourself-published skills.  Definitely a bias towards helping you become A Person Who Gets Paid to Write — good focus, I suppose, since being a volunteer writer doesn’t require much training.

You will benefit most if you are able to participate, and to be able to participate, you will need to clear your schedule a bit.   At the very least, plan to substitute participation in the conference for your other goofing-off activities that week.  I lucked out last year — the conference fell on a week when my schedule was wide open, complete with borrowed children to keep my own occupied.  This allowed me to participate in one workshop intensively, dabble in a few others, and browse the rest; in order to do that, I probably spent 2-4 hours a day either at the conference or on my own doing homework.   (I could have spent less time on the homework, but I got more out of the conference by putting more into it.)

Format was a combination of discussion-forum workshops and live chatroom discussions on various topics, led by catholic authors and editors with expertise in the subject at hand.  There were also pitching sessions with catholic publishers and agents, which of course were not of any direct use to me since I had (and still have) no manuscripts for sale, but I learned quite a bit about that part of the industry from the related workshops.

[Are you thinking of leading a workshop? Know that last year many of the leaders of one workshop participated as a student in other workshops.  You can do both. ]

I found all the workshop leaders (agents, authors, publishers, editors) to be polite, encouraging, and no-nonsense.  Their goal is to bring more catholic writers to the reading public, and they will not pamper you in the process.  If you are looking for someone to tell you how wonderful you are and how whatever you want to do is just fine, call your mother; if you are looking for someone to help you with your writing, try the conference.

*Same danger, of course, as reading a book on how to improve your writing: You may end up like myself, not a better writer, just a guiltier one.  Nothing quite like a new improved awareness of all your faults.

bailout commentary

This friday we’re up for an economics post again, and what timing.  I’ll sit on my hands until then, because I don’t have anything to say (yet) on the bailout that isn’t being said better elsewhere.  To summarize: I am a Jim Curley dittohead.  (Reading from Oct 1 down – not linked to any one post, because he has a handful of them.)