Lisa: “Dad, for the last time, please don’t lower yourself to the level of the mob”.
Homer: “Lisa, maybe if I’m part of that mob, I can help steer it in wise directions. 636 more words
SO, after my second FB snarkpost about squishy academic silliness in the ‘dialogue and deliberation community’(rehashed here and here for anyone interested), a gentlemanly and uncommonly thoughtful old friend of mine responded with a comment in the form of a velvet gloved (and well deserved) flathand smack to the back of my head. 1,759 more words
When, in the pursuance of constitutionally mandated juridical “procedures,” one encounters a signifier with varied and numerous signifieds, how does one proceed? If this polysemous aberration presents itself, makes itself known, in the realm of substantiation, attestation, corroboration, and thus the determination of culpability or irreproachability, the repercussions of equivocation could “be” dire. 824 more words
Ernest Tate’s new two-volume memoir, Revolutionary Activism In The 1950s and ‘60s, is a significant accomplishment. In recounting the savor and substance of daily life devoted to the socialist cause, it not only offers a fascinating account of revolutionary militancy in mostly backward times, it sets a discomfiting example for weekend activists, armchair revolutionaries, academic Marxists, and veterans of the political upsurge of the 1960s who retreated into private life following the end of the Vietnam war. 1,423 more words