❝Let us read and let us dance — two amusements

that will never do any harm to the world.❞

— Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet), French philosopher

There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face. ~Ben Williams

this week’s satire and silliness goes out to J, Rika, Svast, Monsieur Bear, Tiger Girly & Sooz for, well, totally being there this loooong week. You are teh awesome.

Men will always be mad, and those who think they can cure them are the maddest of all. ~Voltaire

Jallel immigre clandestinement en France. Ce n’est pas le pays de cocagne dont il avait rêvé, mais il s’adapte bien à Paris où il fait toutes sortes de rencontres : Nassera, une jeune mère célibataire qui refuse à la dernière minute de l’épouser, des clochards avec qui il vit dans un foyer et Lucie, qui souffre de troubles psychiatriques.

***

Definición: es un pensamiento crítico sobre los fundamentos que sostienen la sociedad del Antiguo Régimen y estableció las bases del pensamiento moderno. A este movimiento intelectual se le conoce como Ilustración. Nació en Inglaterra y Escocia en el siglo XVII, y se expandió por el continente Europeo durante el siglo XVIII.

El siglo de las luces. Es el nombre que recibe el siglo XVIII, la época de la Ilustración, porque una explicación racional del mundo venía a iluminar las sombras heredadas de la tradición o de la superstición. Se produce un gran avance de la ciencia en matemáticas (Leibniz), física (Newton), astronomía (Laplace) y química (Lavoisier). Las leyes del funcionamiento del Universo cuestionan los relatos bíblicos sobre la creación de la Tierra.

Pensamiento económico. En estas fechas se ponen las bases del pensamiento económico contemporáneo: el liberalismo económico. Adam Smith afirma en su libro La riqueza de las Naciones (1773), que el progreso económico exige dejar en libertad los factores de producción (capital, tierra, trabajo).

La crítica social y política. En Francia los ilustrados eran conocidos como les philosophes y tuvieron un importante antecesor en John Locke (vivió en el siglo XVII) y había justificado el parlamentarismo inglés impuesto tras la Gloriosa Revolución de 1688, diciendo que era una restauración del contrato social. Defiende la necesidad de tolerar ideas y creencias diferentes, y de establecer un sistema político pactado en el que nadie tuviese poder absoluto.

1. Voltaire: primero que difundió en Francia los planteamientos de Locke, reivindicaba la libertad política y la tolerancia religiosa así como la unificación de las instituciones del Estado.
2. Montesquieu: noble acaudalado al que se considera fundador de la ciencia política y de la sociología. En su obra El espíritu de las leyes, explica las diversas formas de gobierno. Propuso un sistema monárquico controlado por una constitución en el que habría una separación de los poderes legislativo, ejecutivo y judicial. Su doctrina inspiró la Constitución norteamericana de 1787 y otras europeas del siglo XIX.
3. Rosseau: creía que el hombre era bueno por naturaleza y que el orden social había corrompido la igualdad original entre las personas. Explica que su concepción de gobierno es un contrato que debía reflejar la voluntad general en la que se fundarían todas las voluntades individuales, por lo que se trata de la primera afirmación de la soberanía nacional. Para él, los reyes o representantes elegidos no eran más que delegados de un pueblo soberano. Su crítica a la propiedad y su defensa de la igualdad estarían presentes en planteamientos democráticos posteriores.

La enciclopedia. El conjunto de las ideas ilustradas circuló inicialmente entre unas élites reducidas. La publicación de los 28 volúmenes de la Enciclopedia (1751-1772), dirigida por Diderot y D´Alembert intentó ser un diccionario razonado de las ciencias, las artes y las técnicas, en la cual colaboraron famosos intelectuales. Presentaba la situación de los conocimientos en la época, pero también figuraba una crítica hacia las instituciones políticas y religiosas.

El absolutismo ilustrado. Monarcas y gobernantes europeos acogieron favorablemente el espíritu de las luces y lo utilizaron en sus conflictos con la autonomía de la Iglesia o contra el poder de la nobleza. Eran los déspotas ilustrados, que planificaban reformas que creían favorables para el pueblo pero sin contar con él.

Mr. O'brien

I’m in the mood for ambitious fiction. Earlier this year I was blessed with a run of incredible reads,  topped off by Yvegeny Zamiatin’s masterpiece, We.

Mr. Zamiatin

Since then I’ve taken on more projects that inevitably have eaten into my reading time, and I am becoming more zealous in my quest for inspired reads. Ambition is the only flavor my literary palate wants to taste right now. I’m hungry for books that make me break out the booksdarts and re-read for pure pleasure. I want prose and plots that cause reactions, page turners that remind me how lucky I am to know how to read.

I’m compiling a list (in no particular order) of ambitiously written books and additions are requested in the comments section! I’d love suggestions for a 2010 reading list…

Mr. Baldwin

The Third Policeman by Flann O’Brien

Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh

The Inferno by Dante

Morvagine by Blaise Cendrars

Tropic of Capricorn by Henry Miller

Candide by Voltaire

The Electric Koolaid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe

Black Boy by Richard Wright

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov

Who’s Afraid of Virgina Woolf? by Edward Albee

Bowl of Cherries by Milliard Kauffman

The Whapshot Chronicle by John Cheever (as well as many of his shorter works)

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey

Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

The Iliad by Homer

If On a Winter’s Night a Traveler by Italo Calvino

Her by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Geek Love by Katherine Dunn

The Twits by Roald Dahl

Lolita by Vladamir Nabakov

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

The Monkeywrench Gang by Edward Abbey

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Stranger by Albert Camus

The Godfather by Mario Puzo

Peanuts by Charles Schultz

Mr. Abbey

more:

Bluebeard/Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut

The Aeneid by Virgil

The Baron in the Trees by Italo Calvino

Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller

Matilda by Roald Dahl

Catcher in the Rye by J.D Salinger

His Dark Materials Series by Phillip Pullman

At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O’brien

White Noise by Don Delillo

The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera

The Watchmen by Alan Moore

More..?

For my old friend, Alan P., who may be amused.

Letter 6

On the Presbyterians

The Anglican religion only extends to England and Ireland.  Presbyterianism is the dominant religion in Scotland.  This Presbyterianism is nothing more than pure Calvinism as it was established in France and survives in Geneva.  As the priests in this sect receive very small stipends from their churches, and so cannot live in the same luxury as bishops, they have taken the natural course of decrying honors they cannot attain.  Picture the proud Diogenes trampling underfoot the pride of Plato -  the Scottish Presbyterians are not unlike that proud and tattered reasoner.  They treated Charles II with much less respect than Diogenes had treated Alexander.  For, when they took up arms on his behalf against Cromwell, who had deceived them, they made the poor King put up with four sermons per day, they forbade him to play cards, and they sat him on the stool of repentance, with the result that Charles soon grew tired of being King of these pedants and escaped from their clutches like a schoolboy playing truant.

Compared with a young and lusty French student bawling in Theology Schools in the morning and singing with the ladies at night, an English theologian is a Cato, but this Cato looks like a gay young spark compared with a priest in Scotland.  The latter affects a solemn gait and scowling expression, wears a huge hat, a long cloak over a short jacket, preaches through his nose, and gives the name of Whore of Babylon to all churches in which a few ecclesiastics are fortunate enough to have an income of fifty thousand livres and in which the people are good enough to put up with it and call them Monsignor, Your Lordship, and Your Eminence.

These gentry, who also have a few churches in England, have brought solemn and austere airs into fashion in this country.  It is to them that we owe the sanctification of Sunday in the three kingdoms.  On that day, both work and play are forbidden, which is double the severity of Catholic churches.  There are no operas, plays, or concerts in London on Sunday.  Even cards are so expressly forbidden that only people of standing and what are called respectable people play on that day.  The rest of the nation goes to the sermon, the tavern, and the ladies of the town.

Although the Episcopal and Presbyterian sects are the two dominant ones in Great Britain, all the others are perfectly acceptable and live quite harmoniously together, whilst most of their preachers hate each other with almost as much cordiality as a Jansenist damns a Jesuit.

Go into the London Stock Exchange – a more respectable place than many a court – and you will see representatives from all nations gathered together for the utility of men.  Here, Jew, Mohammedan, and Christian deal with each other as though they were all of the same faith, and only apply the word “infidel”  to people who go bankrupt.  Here, the Presbyterian trusts the Anabaptist and the Anglican accepts a promise from the Quaker.  On leaving these peaceful and free assemblies, some go to the synagogue and others for a drink, this one goes to be baptized in a great bath in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, that one has his son’s foreskin cut and has some Hebrew words he doesn’t understand mumbled over the child, others go to their church and await the inspiration of God with their hats on, and everybody is happy.

If there were only one religion in England, there would be danger of despotism.  If there were two, they would cut each other’s throats.  But, there are thirty, and they live in peace and happiness.

From: Letters on England by Voltaire; translated from the French by Leonard Tancock (London: Penguin Books, 1980), pp. 40-41.

Voltaire (1694-1778), the pen name of Francois-Marie Arouet, was a French man of letters and a notorious (even for the France of his age) unbeliever.  Voltaire spent three years in England (1726-1729), a country with which he was favorably impressed.  On his return to France, he wrote this work (consisting of 25 letters on various subjects) – with his usual critical eye and sarcastic and ironic sense of humor – to explain to his countrymen what England was like, based on what he had seen and heard, for the purpose of making his readers understand that, at this period, England was a comparatively freer country, politically, socially, and religiously, than France was.  The book, of course, was immediately banned, thus helping to make Voltaire’s point for him.

♥

La adresa URL http://www.romanialibera.ro/a170474/madona-din-stalingrad.html , citesc articolul “Madona din Stalingrad”. Cum să nu rîzi la afirmaţia prosovietică a domnului Alexandru Mihalcea (pe care altminteri îl respect mult) despre “componente pretioase ale acestei adevarate Academii de lupta de strada” ! În realitate, victoria sovieticilor la Stalingrad s-a datorat faptului că Japonia nu a atacat URSS, şi atunci întreaga armată sovietică din Extremul Orient, proaspătă, bine hrănită şi bine dotată cu tehnică militară a fost retrasă şi adusă la Stalingrad. Sovieticii au făcut şi un film despre acele evenimente, un film care a rulat şi pe ecranele de la noi în perioada comunistă. Şi au fost filmate realist trenurile acelea încărcate cu soldaţi rumeni, voioşi, şi cu tehnică militară, care mergeau pe calea ferată transsiberiană. Ironia este că proiectul pentru calea ferată transsiberiană şi pentru amplasarea unei mari armate a Rusiei în Extremul Orient fusese antamat de ţarul Nicolae al II-lea, ucis de bolşevici, în mod sigur şi cu o încuviinţare de la Stalin !

Este interesant că mareşalul von Manstein, vezi http://ro.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erich_von_Manstein , i-a propus lui Hitler un plan de salvare a trupelor  germane, române şi italiene, dar acesta a refuzat ! Predarea lui von Paulus la Stalingrad a fost hotărâtă împreună cu generalii săi. După predare, sovieticii au făcut o fotografie de grup generalilor. Când am văzut fotografia de grup (este pe Internet), m-am înspăimântat ! Erau tineri, surâzători, masivi, prosperi, dacă vreţi arătau toţi ca nişte Brad Pitt dar aflaţi într-o condiţie fizică mult mai bună!, şi alături de fiecare dintre ei erau mari sacoşe de piele în care puteai bănui că poartă bunuri şi bunătăţi. Sovieticii s-au purtat extrem de generos cu von Paulus şi generalii săi. Care, foarte probabil, au trădat prin acel act decizional. Dar majoritatea trupei a fost exploatată fizic, înfometată şi ucisă ! Atunci când armata sovietică venită din Extremul Orient a încercat să atace şi trupele lui von Manstein, acesta i-a bătut pe sovietici de i-a zvântat ! Tot anul 1943 a fost un an de victorii von Manstein. Atunci când Hitler a hotărât marea bătălie de tancuri de la Kursk, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Kursk , von Manstein a construit un plan de luptă pornind din Harkov, dar Hitler l-a refuzat din nou ! Cine studiază planul de luptă al lui von Manstein găseşte că era genial ! Von Manstein vroia să atragă trupele sovietice la luptă în Rusia Sudică, teritoriu primit de Rusia cadou prin pacea de la Kuciuc Kainargi din 1774, un tratat de pace pentru care făcuse lobby Voltaire, plătit de ţarina Caterina cea Mare. Trebuie să amintesc aici interesele româneşti, tratatul de la Kuciuc Kainargi din 1774 anula Capitulaţiunea din 1740, garantată de Franţa, cea mai mare putere a lumii pe atunci, prin care era stipulată şi recunoscută ca fiind totalmente legitimă frontiera principatului moldovenesc pe rîul Bug. În cel de al doilea război mondial, armata română a contat la un moment dat strategic atât de mult, încât Anglia şi America i-au trimis un mesaj lui Ion Antonescu prin care admiteau validitatea încă a Capitulaţiunii de la 1740, deci Anglia şi America garantau pentru România frontiera răsăriteană pe rîul Bug. Winston Churchill scrie în mod expres despre aceasta în Memoriile sale pentru care a primit premiul Nobel. Von Manstein era convins că atrăgându-i pe sovietici să lupte pe acel teritoriu, sprijinul acordat lor de Anglia şi America s-ar mai fi moderat. În mod cert, Von Manstein avea intuiţiile lui, şi multe din ele s-au dovedit corecte. Întrebarea este de ce se opunea aşa de înverşunat Adolf Hitler intuiţiilor  lui Von Manstein ? A apărut recent la lumină un document foarte autentic realizat în 1920 de serviciile de spionaj franceze despre un anume Adolf Jacob Hitler, personaj aflat într-o ascensiune în Germania. Lupta intraspecifică este nemiloasă… Poate că acest Adolf Jacob Hitler a vrut intenţionat să distrugă Germania. A, şi faimosul “craniu al lui Hitler” păstrat la Moscova s-a dovedit că este al unei femei …

Titus Filipas

Karl Valentin

From all of us here, serving drama on Guam, to you, where ever you are. Keep hope alive.
The Editors

Jolie Rama
Sur un gradin perchée
(Gradin d’assemblée…
Gradin de stade…)
Tenait en ses mains
Bien serrées
Son maroquin.
Un gredin de Renard,
Par ce corps beau
Alléché…
(Un corps beau
À croquer !)
Lui tint à peu près ce langage :
« Que vous êtes jolie !
Vue d’en m’bas,
Que vous me semblez m’Bo !
Descends donc !
Nous danserons
Le mam’bo.
Et ton maroquin,
Pas d’chagrin,
Tu l’gard’ras,
J’en f’rai  pas
Plein de rage
Un fromage… »

Puis ainsi
Le rossard causit :
« Sans ment’rie
Si votre ramaillade
Se rapporte à votre plumaillade
Vous êtes le phénix
De mes minix
Et des hôtes
De mes champs
(Élysées).»
À ces mots
Si bien dits
(À ses maux
Pressentis),
Rama ne ressent pas de joie,
En perd même la voix
Et ferme son joli bec,
Se retient,
N’en pense pas moins
« Rien de neuf ! »
Comm’ Titeuf :
«Même pô peur ! »
« Pas si ‘rô qu’ça ! ».

Et de ses menues mains
Elle tient bien
L’maroquin
Tant elle craint
Le coquin.
(«Grand pendard !
Dit Voltaire).
Et elle pense :
« Par prudence
Mieux vaut m’taire !»
À ses mots
Devinés
Il jura,
(Mais un peu tard),
« Nom d’un pétard ! »,
Qu’on ne l’y prendrait plus.

La petite Pléyade

MAGIA, ESPADA Y FANTASÍA (VI)

La segunda parte de la monumental adaptación a la pantalla de la obra de J.R.R. Tolkien por Peter Jackson y su equipo da comienzo en el punto en que la Comunidad del Anillo se disuelve: Frodo y Sam siguen su camino hacia Mordor, Merry y Pipin han caído prisioneros de los orcos de Sauron, y Aragorn, Legolas y Gimli, dejando a los pequeños portadores del anillo que encuentren su propio destino, van tras los cautivos para liberarlos, mientras Sauron y su aliado Saruman siguen acumulando fuerzas con las que aplastar a las razas libres de la Tierra Media, desunidas y parapetadas tras sus débiles defensas…

Tras el impactante efecto sorpresa de la primera entrega, Las dos torres ofrece más de lo mismo (pero peor) en la forma, aunque empieza la decadencia en cuanto al fondo. Como dijimos en su momento en esta misma sección, a medida que la trilogía avanza, sus grandes virtudes se van poco a poco diluyendo y los pequeños inconvenientes del primer capítulo, minimizados ante la grandiosidad del conjunto, van creciendo hasta poco a poco adueñarse de este puente hacia la conclusión. El problema, precisamente, es la entrega incondicional a la espectacularidad de las formas y el paulatino descuido de unas, ya de por sí, demasiado elementales, lineales, esquemáticas cuestiones de fondo (personajes, psicología, motivaciones, reacciones ante los hechos…) siguiendo, obviamente, las pautas marcadas por Tolkien pero haciendo que la película, exactamente igual que su antecesora y su continuación, dependa en exclusiva de los conocimientos previos del espectador sobre la obra literaria a fin de que pueda entender la lógica de acontecimientos y personajes, sin que se trate de un producto cinematográfico autónomo. A ello no es ajena la introducción de las grandes batallas y de las escenas de acción propias de la historia en las que la entrega a la espectacularidad es total, y en las que se desvirtúan algunos logros de la primera parte. Por ejemplo, donde hay un ingente esfuerzo por utilizar el maquillaje y la caracterización para la construcción de las diversas criaturas “no humanas” y de ambientación y dirección artística para los espacios, comienza a haber demasiada labor de computadora a fin de recrear enormes ejércitos en movimiento, espacios abiertos o decorados en los que transcurran los combates, auténticamente de videojuego por más espectaculares que sean, y también en el momento de provocar un buen número de efectos de la violencia sobre individuos y objetos. La batalla principal es tan grandiosa como artificiosa, con algún que otro guiño que supera lo humorístico para adentrarse en lo ridículo, completamente fuera del tono general de la historia, y las múltiples y complejas tramas paralelas que como un mosaico van salpicando la narración y cambiando el punto de interés y de tensión a cada momento, unidas a la excesiva duración del film, hacen que el ritmo vaya desde la lentitud más extrema al servicio del crecimiento de una tensión no siempre lograda (porque hay que entender que al igual que se depende del libro para presuponer aspectos de los personajes el espectador ya conoce el desenlace de los hechos sobre los que se pretende cargar emoción) hasta la vertiginosa sucesión de acontecimientos acelerados que siembran la película de altibajos y lagunas de emoción.

El problema es que la ingenuidad y expectación del discurso de la primera parte se torna aquí en una oda a las imágenes animadas desprovistas de discurso de cualquier tipo o, lo que es peor, intentando alcanzar la sublimidad de ciertos mensajes a través de la mera repetición de frases y situaciones pretendidamente trascendentes y decisivas (cuando, insistimos, el lector de Tolkien, espectador a quien va dirigida la película, no como intención, pero sí como construcción, ya sabe qué va a pasar y qué no) pero que, a través de ese culto a lo entendido como modernidad e innovación visuales, son en el fondo de una emotividad vacía, de una emoción nula, sin una aventura real, sin un riesgo o un peligro que realmente cruce al otro lado de la pantalla, sin unos personajes vivos por los que podamos sentir una empatía que vaya más allá de lo que los personajes dicen representar, sin llegar a sentir algo por los personajes en sí.

La película acumula historias que transcurren de manera paralela pero no por ello gana en solidez, muy al contrario, es una forma de perder pulso, de deshilvanar un puzzle que en la primera entrega había quedado ensamblado de manera aceptable. Se vuelve facilona, vulgar, reiterativa, simple y lineal, por más que visualmente pretenda todo lo contrario, resultar majestuosa, abigarrada, rica, espectacular; busca enganchar por la belleza y el impacto de imágenes grandilocuentes, olvidándose de atraparnos por el cariz de los acontecimientos que cuenta, y es ahí donde, a pesar de que engancha y obliga a seguirla, apuesta por explotar los elementos más pobres y simplones del lenguaje cinematográfico y busca convencer a través de algo, en el fondo, tan fácil como es apabullar, embaucar por aplastamiento.

Habiendo alcanzado así la trilogía la cúspide de lo que podía ofrecer, buena parte de esta segunda entrega y toda la tercera parte son un lento caer hacia la superficialidad en el discurso y el tributo a las formas animadas por ordenador en detrimento de la historia misma, al metraje excesivo en la creencia de que la mejor adaptación es la que cuenta todo (ya dijo Voltaire que el secreto de aburrir consiste en decirlo todo), de que a más, siempre es mejor. Y el cine nos ha dado gran cantidad de muestras, seguramente las mejores, de que lo mejor suele ser siempre lo contrario.

Poème sur le désastre de Lisbonne

         Voltaire

O malheureux mortels! ô terre déplorable!
O de tous les mortels assemblage effroyable!
D’inutiles douleurs éternel entretien!
Philosophes trompés qui criez: “Tout est bien”
Accourez, contemplez ces ruines affreuses
Ces débris, ces lambeaux, ces cendres malheureuses,
Ces femmes, ces enfants l’un sur l’autre entassés,
Sous ces marbres rompus ces membres dispersés;
Cent mille infortunés que la terre dévore,
Qui, sanglants, déchirés, et palpitants encore,
Enterrés sous leurs toits, terminent sans secours
Dans l’horreur des tourments leurs lamentables jours!
Aux cris demi-formés de leurs voix expirantes,
Au spectacle effrayant de leurs cendres fumantes,
Direz-vous: “C’est l’effet des éternelles lois
Qui d’un Dieu libre et bon nécessitent le choix”?
Direz-vous, en voyant cet amas de victimes:
“Dieu s’est vengé, leur mort est le prix de leurs crimes”?
Quel crime, quelle faute ont commis ces enfants
Sur le sein maternel écrasés et sanglants?
Lisbonne, qui n’est plus, eut-elle plus de vices
Que Londres, que Paris, plongés dans les délices?
Lisbonne est abîmée, et l’on danse à Paris.
Tranquilles spectateurs, intrépides esprits,
De vos frères mourants contemplant les naufrages,
Vous recherchez en paix les causes des orages:
Mais du sort ennemi quand vous sentez les coups,
Devenus plus humains, vous pleurez comme nous.
Croyez-moi, quand la terre entrouvre ses abîmes
Ma plainte est innocente et mes cris légitimes
Partout environnés des cruautés du sort,
Des fureurs des méchants, des pièges de la mort
De tous les éléments éprouvant les atteintes,
Compagnons de nos maux, permettez-nous les plaintes.
C’est l’orgueil, dites-vous, l’orgueil séditieux,
Qui prétend qu’étant mal, nous pouvions être mieux.
Allez interroger les rivages du Tage;
Fouillez dans les débris de ce sanglant ravage;
Demandez aux mourants, dans ce séjour d’effroi
Si c’est l’orgueil qui crie “O ciel, secourez-moi!
O ciel, ayez pitié de l’humaine misère!”

Special bonus: the first known footage of Jimi Hendrix

As we tap our toes, we might recall that today is the birthday of the intellectual Father of Rock and Roll– the Father of the Age of Reason and author (in Candide) of the immortal– and sardonic– advice that each of us should “tend his own garden,” Francois-Marie Arouet, better known as Voltaire; he was born in Paris on this date in 1694.

Voltaire

Voltaires Roman “Candide oder Der Optimismus” erschien erstmals 1759. In der Vorbemerkung zur zweiten Auflage wird das Werk als Übersetzung aus dem Deutschen ausgegeben. Der Übersetzer, ein gewisser Dr. Ralph, sei 1759 in Minden verstorben. Der deutsch-französische Literaturpreis “Candide” wird vom Literarischen Verein Minden, der Stiftung Genshagen und dem französischen Kulturministerium. Im Candide-Jahr 2009 ging er an den deutschen Schriftsteller Volker Braun und die französische Autorin Olivia Rosenthal. Die Preisverleihung fand am vergangenen Wochenende auf Schloss Genshagen statt. Die Süddeutsche Zeitung druckt am 19.11. die Dankesrede von Volker Braun und einen Auszug aus der Laudatio von Lothar Müller. Auszug aus Brauns Rede:

“Ah, Candide”, rief ein Philosoph aus der Leipziger Tieflandbucht, “noch zugange?” – “Rollen muß es!” entgegnete der, und Bloch sah, daß er ein wenig närrisch geworden war; “ça va? ça va?” – “Ça ira!” schrie Candide und hieb auf den Boden ein, “hasta la vista, dawai!” Ungeachtet des Unfugs umarmte ihn der Philosoph und tönte seinerseits brimboriummäßig: “Ja, es wird gehn. Die rechte Genesis ist kein Fiat, gar Faktum des Anfangs, sondern ein Unterwegs und Problem des Endes. Derart sei übers Schicksal, das nicht unabwendbare, in deinem Garten ruhig.” – “In meinem Garten?” – “Einen größeren Garten jedoch vorausgesetzt und keinen aus der Welt ausgesparten, sondern aus ihr selber erforschten, tapfer bestellt! In der Welt muß man selbst nach dem Rechten sehen, dann ist Segen dabei und Optimismus mit Trauerflor, kämpfend.”

Er trug tatsächlich ein schwarzes Band am Arm, und sein ganzes Werkzeug waren solche Begriffe, und man machte sich über ihn lustig. “Im Garten arbeiten”, maulträtierten sich die Laubenpieper und Gartenvereine und sozialdemokratischen Regierungen. Das konnte nur häckeln und harken und nicht an die Wurzeln gehen und redete über Rabatten, darum wählte man sie nicht. Im Gegenteil zeigte das Volk seine unaufgeklärte Tendenz und ließ die Länderei liegen und wich hinaus. “Wo wollt ihr hin?” frug Candide. – “Wir wollen in das beste Land: Westfalen.” – Westfalen gibt es nicht mehr. Das ist die Welt.

Das sagten die mächtigen Medien, die es wußten und die Menge fütterten mit wahren Schrecken und falschen Tatsachen, die sie nicht erfinden mußten. Notleidende Banken, abgesegnete Armut. Unerklärliches Unrecht, unerklärter Krieg. Die schizophrenen Panglosse druckten es frisch, und das tägliche Blatt hieß DIE BESTE WELT.

]]> http://agrandegaia.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/consciencia-negra/ Fri, 20 Nov 2009 15:44:56 +0000 Nathalie Gingold http://agrandegaia.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/consciencia-negra/ http://homepaddock.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/november-21-in-history/ Fri, 20 Nov 2009 11:13:32 +0000 homepaddock http://homepaddock.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/november-21-in-history/

On November 21:

164 BC Judas Maccabaeus, son of Mattathias of the Hasmonean family, restoresdthe Temple in Jerusalem. This event is commemorated each year by the festival of Hanukkah.

1694 Voltaire, French philosopher, was born.

1783 Jean-François Pilâtre de Rozier and François Laurent, Marquis d’Arlandes, make the first untethered hot air balloon flight.

1787 Samuel Cunard, Canadian-born shipping magnate, was born.

1863 Maori surrendered at Rangiriri.

1877  Thomas Edison announced his invention of the phonograph, a machine that can record and play sound

1905 Albert Einstein’s paper, Does the Inertia of a Body Depend Upon Its Energy Content?, was published in the journal “Annalen der Physik”. This paper reveals the relationship between energy and mass. This led to the mass–energy equivalence formula E = mc².

1920 In Dublin, 31 people were killed in what became known as “Bloody Sunday“.

1922 Rebecca Latimer Felton of Georgia took the oath of office, becoming the first female United States Senator.

1929 Marilyn French, American feminist writer, was born.

1936 Victor Chang, Australian physician, was born.

1941 Juliet Mills, British actress, was born.

1945  Goldie Hawn, American actress, was born.

1948  George Zimmer, American entrepreneur, was born.

1977 Minister of Internal Affairs Allan Highet announced that ‘the national anthems of New Zealand shall be the traditional anthem “God Save the Queen” and the poem “God Defend New Zealand“, written by Thomas Bracken, as set to music by John Joseph Woods, both being of equal status as national anthems appropriate to the occasion.

Here is part two of the Bi-Pixel reviews. If you missed part one, click here.

Before we begin, I have tried my utmost to avoid spoilers. What appear as vague, sporadic statements are actually beautifully surmised acumen to help you, the eager reader. That and poor writing.

“Hello narrative, how are you today?”
“I’m good thanks, how you been keeping?”
“Sorry, I can’t answer that.”
“Okay, how’s plot doing these days? The one I keep hearing about?”
“Sparta!”

This year’s summer blockbuster has been repackaged in the form of a video game. Modern Warfare 2 arrived last week under some heavy scrutiny brought on by its Arnie credentials and children’s attire. So what does one make of this spectacle? Let us begin.

The game is not trying to portray a docudrama so I will forgive the ludicrousness; we are in it for the thrill, not the accuracy. The problem is when it you are able to fully comprehend it, it’s fully preposterous. The characters are just too flat and often indistinguishable. As a narrative, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 does not measure up to the best video games, including its predecessor. That is not to say that the original Modern Warfare was in any way realistic, rather, a plausible logical progression of real world military events that we have seen, read, heard or even actively participated in.

Modern Warfare 2 seems to revel in its multiple protagonists to the point of self-parody – switching between the characters quicker than a Kyle moral stance. Four different characters get at least one full level a piece and for me that became a problem. Due to the small amount of time I had to spend in each character’s shoes, it diminished the impact of the events that take place around each character. When John Smith takes that inevitable bullet, John Smythe steps in to fill those unassuming shoes.

Remember the ‘holy shit’ moments from the original? Well, the good guys at Infinity Ward have taken that set piece and ran with it for 5 or so hours; one jaw dropping moment follows the next. The problem with the Schwarzeneggisms is that they lose their bite after a while, the game tries so hard to flummox the player that at times it feels like you are in an episode of 24 (season six, I would be okay with the Bauer 1.0). For a game that tries to stir such a vitriolic response through these set pieces it me left wondering why the game tries to place the character so specifically within their environment. Why was it that Soap in Durkastan feels more believable than Roach Sanderson in Afghanistan?

That ambiguity of the previous instalment left the player to fill in the blanks. Unfortunately, this time round we haven’t developed the capacity for analogy. The script seems as if it were written by a 9/11 conspirator. The game over screens that recite ambiguous smuggery from Voltaire and Gandhi are now coupled with quotes from progressive forward thinkers like Rumsfeld and Cheney. The morality of conflict underpins the narrative of the franchise, I accept this, but what is more concerning is how Modern Warfare 2 revels in sheer delight at the despicable atrocities on screen. The game’s power lies in its perverse achievement – you actually feel bad for playing it. Take for example that controversial incident. The game slows down to absolute zero, while you walk through taking in the ‘scenery’. Infinity Ward should have put signs up around the terminals at this point.

“Look what you are doing!”
“Yes we designed it, but you are playing it, yes you……David!”

I know i’ve defended the right for this particular scene, having not experienced it within a narrative context. Having now digested the scene within its context, I can safely say that it offered nothing to the flow of the game. It occurs far too early to hold any weight, we don’t know the character at this point and have only just dipped our toes into the plot when the onslaught proceeds. If it had come at a later stage of the game, when some emotional attachment (okay a bit far stretched) had been cemented, I would be the first celebrate. After all, the industry has had its fair share of critics since the first pixels blipped. A scene like this only supplies ample resources to the snobs who sneer, while divulging in subtitled, silent snuff films. I guess my main gripe with the single player campaign is that it feels like it has something to say about our political climate, it tries to shock and heckle, but it essentially hands you firecrackers for 5 hours then highlights what a bastard you are for using them. I must admit though, when done right those bangs are mighty impressive.

Dré

Ceux qui ont avancé que tout est bien ont dit une sottise: il fallait dire que tout est au mieux.

Citation tirée de Candide, ou l’optimisme de Voltaire (1759)

L’avventura nel mondo sconosciuto. La Guerra.
Il Valhala. L’isola.
L’ottimismo. Il volere costruire qualcosa di buono.
Il ritorno alla relta’. La sconfitta.

Il finale a masticar pistazi, o ad affettare melanzane, poiche’  “Non si viveva poi cosi’ bene in italia: non ci hanno lasciato cambiar niente. Allora ho detto. avete vinto voi. Ma almeno non riuscirete a farmi vostro complice.”

Mediterraneo acquista valore piu’ si invecchia. “Dedicato a tutti quello che stanno scappando” nel 1991 mi suonava astruso. Oggi e’ diventato il mio stile di vita. Devo trovare un’isoletta greca dove aprire un ristorante.

Voltaire

Giving a break to everyday politics, I want to share my favourite quotes of my favourite philosopher, writer, a true French Enlightenment figure: Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet) – 1694-1778

Voltaire was first introduced to me when I was 12 years old, in my first year at Saint-Joseph High school. But, a genuine confession, it took me ten years to understand what he really meant in his writings. I remember my father talking about “Candide” as he was himself and suggesting me to read him the first year I began to learn French. Well, sure it was not the first French book to read while I was too busy with Gaston Lagaffe, Lucky Luke and Asterix.

By then, “Candide” was also an imaginary French cartoon character for me, with a bit of similarities that of Gaston Lagaffe. Voltaire’s exaggeration and irony were apparently best reflected in his “Candide” the ultimate optimism ever granted to anyone was united with all of its forms in Candide’s body and soul. What a heroic sarcasm and an erratic personality… I believe we need such personalities in today’s world; a bit of sarcasm of reality would not hurt anyone.

“We must cultivate our garden” Voltaire concludes his book Candide after all that long search of optimism. This debatable quote and the conclusion bring the reader to the difference between “nature” and “nurture.” Although “nature” is an accepted process, “nurture” is what will define one’s choices in life, thus, efforts shown on the way of a better situation surely will be praised by the outcomes of the work… Me, myself and I, very much tempted to take Candide’s side in this debate, BUT I have to admit that I try to follow Voltaire’s side…

Candide Book Cover

Unfortunately we are sometimes forced to hide ourselves behind the realities to avoid the virtue of sarcasm with the fear of hurting someone… So, this leads me to relate the sense of humour and irony with cultural development. Not everyone can bear the bitterness of irony, particularly in the Middle East. Well, this is not to say that sense of humour has to be universal, but people HAS to be as tolerant as their universal counterparts in order to open their minds and “think twice” of what lies behind the visible words…

“I disapprove of what you say, but I will fight to death your right to say it.”

 

Here are some of my favourite quotes of Voltaire:

- “Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd.”

- “Indolence is sweet and its consequences bitter.”

- “It is dangerous to be right when the government is wrong.” (Oops, in my region, you can’t get away from politics)

- “The secret of being boring is to say everything.”

- “Work saves us from three great evils: boredom, vice and need.”

- “There are some that only employ words for the purpose of disguising their thoughts.”

- “Think of yourselves and let others enjoy the privilege to do so too.”

I’ve been reading some classic literature lately and was interested to see mathematics show up two of these works.

Last week I read Voltaire’s Candide (1759). One of the main characters is the ridiculous Dr. Pangloss, who subscribes to Leibniz’s philosophy of optimism (or Voltaire’s take on optimism). Leibniz believed in a good and omnipotent God who created “the best of all possible worlds” and Voltaire pokes fun at this belief by making Dr. Pangloss and the other characters suffer miserably despite their optimism.

Although Voltaire does not mention Leibniz’s mathematics, math does show up later when Voltaire’s takes a jab at Parisian scientists in Chapter XXII:

Candide stayed in Bordeaux no longer than was necessary for the selling of a few of the pebbles of El Dorado, and for hiring a good chaise to hold two passengers; for he could not travel without his Philosopher Martin. He was only vexed at parting with his sheep, which he left to the Bordeaux Academy of Sciences, who set as a subject for that year’s prize, “to find why this sheep’s wool was red;” and the prize was awarded to a learned man of the North, who demonstrated by A plus B minus C divided by Z, that the sheep must be red, and die of the rot.

Right now I’m reading Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov (1880). Today I read Part II, Book V, Chapter 3, in which Ivan Karamazov mentions non-Euclidean geometry. I’ve reproduced the entire paragraph below and have highlighted the relevant passage.

“Joking? I was told at the elder’s yesterday that I was joking. You know, dear boy, there was an old sinner in the eighteenth century who declared that, if there were no God, he would have to be invented. S’il n’existait pas Dieu, il faudrait l’inventer. And man has actually invented God. And what’s strange, what would be marvellous, is not that God should really exist; the marvel is that such an idea, the idea of the necessity of God, could enter the head of such a savage, vicious beast as man. So holy it is, so touching, so wise and so great a credit it does to man. As for me, I’ve long resolved not to think whether man created God or God man. And I won’t go through all the axioms laid down by Russian boys on that subject, all derived from European hypotheses; for what’s a hypothesis there is an axiom with the Russian boy, and not only with the boys but with their teachers too, for our Russian professors are often just the same boys themselves. And so I omit all the hypotheses. For what are we aiming at now? I am trying to explain as quickly as possible my essential nature, that is what manner of man I am, what I believe in, and for what I hope, that’s it, isn’t it? And therefore I tell you that I accept God simply. But you must note this: if God exists and if He really did create the world, then, as we all know, He created it according to the geometry of Euclid and the human mind with the conception of only three dimensions in space. Yet there have been and still are geometricians and philosophers, and even some of the most distinguished, who doubt whether the whole universe, or to speak more widely, the whole of being, was only created in Euclid’s geometry; they even dare to dream that two parallel lines, which according to Euclid can never meet on earth, may meet somewhere in infinity. I have come to the conclusion that, since I can’t understand even that, I can’t expect to understand about God. I acknowledge humbly that I have no faculty for settling such questions, I have a Euclidian earthly mind, and how could I solve problems that are not of this world? And I advise you never to think about it either, my dear Alyosha, especially about God, whether He exists or not. All such questions are utterly inappropriate for a mind created with an idea of only three dimensions. And so I accept God and am glad to, and what’s more, I accept His wisdom, His purpose which are utterly beyond our ken; I believe in the underlying order and the meaning of life; I believe in the eternal harmony in which they say we shall one day be blended. I believe in the Word to Which the universe is striving, and Which Itself was ‘with God,’ and Which Itself is God and so on, and so on, to infinity. There are all sorts of phrases for it. I seem to be on the right path, don’t I’? Yet would you believe it, in the final result I don’t accept this world of God’s, and, although I know it exists, I don’t accept it at all. It’s not that I don’t accept God, you must understand, it’s the world created by Him I don’t and cannot accept. Let me make it plain. I believe like a child that suffering will be healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage, like the despicable fabrication of the impotent and infinitely small Euclidian mind of man, that in the world’s finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, for the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, of all the blood they’ve shed; that it will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify all that has happened with men — but thought all that may come to pass, I don’t accept it. I won’t accept it. Even if parallel lines do meet and I see it myself, I shall see it and say that they’ve met, but still I won’t accept it. That’s what’s at the root of me, Alyosha; that’s my creed. I am in earnest in what I say. I began our talk as stupidly as I could on purpose, but I’ve led up to my confession, for that’s all you want. You didn’t want to hear about God, but only to know what the brother you love lives by. And so I’ve told you.”

There is a brief discussion of this passage on the Mathematical Fiction website.