Stupidfool.org

Parsing words

The New Yorker on the Republican demonization of words:

Literary theorists used to say that their most abstruse prose was "writing the difficulty"--that the sentences were tortuous because there was no briskly commonsensical way of representing a complex issue. Sarah Palin, alas, talks the difficulty. She may claim, as she did in last Thursday’s Vice-Presidential debate, that "Americans are cravin' that straight talk," but they are sure not going to get it from the Governor--not with her peculiar habit of speaking only half a sentence and then moving on to another for spoliation, that strange, ghostly drifting through the haziest phrases, as if she were cruelly condemned to search endlessly for her linguistic home...

Letters

I love the art of letter-writing--it really is an art, and a lost one, and I miss the idea of it--and nothing captures it better than reading a great collection of letters, like the letters from Normal Mailer collected in last week's New Yorker.

There are loads of quotable passages, but I can't help but quote this letter to Don Delillo, the last sentence of which is just... wow:

What a terrific book [Libra]. I have to tell you that I read it against the grain. I've got an awfully long novel going on the CIA, and of course it overlapped just enough that I kept saying, "this son of a bitch is playing my music," but I was impressed, damned impressed, which I very rarely am. I think we keep ourselves writing by allowing the core of our vanity never to be scratched if we can help it, but I didn't get away scot-free this time.

Change

The New Yorker editors have made their choice re: their endorsement for President. They've chosen (spoiler alert!) Obama.

The whole article's worthwhile, but I like this particular quote:

The choice between experience and eloquence is a false one--something that Lincoln, out of office after a single term in Congress, proved in his own campaign of political and national renewal. Obama’s "mere" speeches on everything from the economy and foreign affairs to race have been at the center of his campaign and its success; if he wins, his eloquence will be central to his ability to govern.

The article spends a paragraph or two on a bunch of the major failures of the current administration: the economy, foreign policy/war in Iraq, the environment, &c. Condensed into a short article like this one, it's even more depressing to think about how our current government has done its best to ruin this country.

On Qualifications

George Saunders, in "My Gal", from last week's New Yorker:

Where was I? Ah, yes: I hate Élites. Which is why, whenever I am having brain surgery, or eye surgery, which is sometimes necessary due to all my non-blinking, I always hire some random Regular guy, with shaking hands if possible, who is also a drunk, scared of the sight of blood, and harbors a secret dislike for me.

Not Boring

A gigantic tunnel boring machine, as featured in "The Long Dig" (abstract only, sorry) in last week's New Yorker:

Cars

Yes, it's come to this: I actually laughed at a New Yorker cartoon, today. But, but... it's so funny!

"The Dinner Party" in the New Yorker

I don't typically read the fiction in the New Yorker, but Joshua Ferris's "The Dinner Party" was kind of devastating:

He wanted to keep her from being hurt. He also wanted his wife and her friend to drift apart so that he never had to sit through another dinner party with the friend and her husband. But after a few months the rift would inevitably heal and the friendship return to good standing. He couldn't blame her. They went back a long way and you get only so many old friends.

"A Few Too Many" in the New Yorker

For Alex: the New Yorker has an exhaustive article on hangovers, both the causes and the cures:

There are other non-ingested remedies. Amazon will sell you a refrigeratable eye mask, an aromatherapy inhaler, and a vinyl statue of St. Vivian, said to be the patron saint of the hung over. She comes with a stand and a special prayer.

Buffalo!

My new favorite sentence in the English language:

Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.

It's a grammatically correct sentence that utilizes three different meanings of the word "buffalo": one as an adjective, one as a noun, and one as a verb. Pay close attention to the capitalization!

It sort of makes you appreciate the difficulty of learning English (or any language, for that matter).

Hence, the fanatical devotion of fans of Crazy English, maybe? From the New Yorker article about Li Yang's shouting-as-learning program:

Li's cosmology ties the ability to speak English to personal strength, and personal strength to national power. It's a combination that produces intense, sometimes desperate adoration. A student named Feng Tao told me that on one occasion, realizing that he had enough cash for tuition to an out-of-town Li lecture but not enough for train fare, "I went and sold blood."

On Elevators

I'm sure it's old news by now, but I'm just getting around to reading this article on elevators in the New Yorker, and this, in particular, stood out to me:

In most elevators, at least in any built or installed since the early nineties, the door-close button doesn’t work. It is there mainly to make you think it works. (It does work if, say, a fireman needs to take control. But you need a key, and a fire, to do that.) Once you know this, it can be illuminating to watch people compulsively press the door-close button. That the door eventually closes reinforces their belief in the button’s power. It’s a little like prayer.

It's true: even though I know that the close button doesn't work, I still use it.