Teachable moments in sympathetic magic
Filed Under Uncategorized
Last night, the Phillies won the World Series. True baseball fans have, are, and will continue to comment more intelligently upon the game (or the Game) than I. More interesting to me are the practical applications of magical thinking.
As you know, Bob, Philadelphia sports teams are generally assumed to have labored under a curse. A sports curse is not particularly unusual. Even one so ill-informed as I can name various other teams similarly handicapped. In the case of Philadelphia, blame for the misfortune is laid squarely at the feet of William Penn.
It would, perhaps, make more sense to blame Helmut Jahn, the architect who offended against the spirit. But pointing fingers at a living professional makes for unsatisfying superstition. It is barely worth noting that construction on City Hall began some one hundred and fifty years after William Penn’s death. The fact that the city’s founder had no opinion on the building (much less sports teams) during his lifetime, is irrelevant. A spirit powerful enough to act upon the world need not trouble himself about legal standing or the enforceability of a “gentlemen’s agreement” regarding a city skyline.
I applaud the practicality of modifying, in a minor way, the Comcast Center. By affixing a miniature William Penn to a beam at the top of the building (and replacing the original after it mysteriously disappeared, presumably stolen by a fan of the Devils or Cowboys), the angry spirit was evidently propitiated. But even more important was the willingness to apply the scientific method and thus shed light upon the manner in which the universe functions. With the simple elimination of one variable, a decades-old question is (perhaps) answered, and a city rejoiced.
Dennis Kucinich is totally casting a cantrip
Filed Under Politics
Because equal protection is a good thing
Filed Under Politics
For several years our standard summer vacation destination was in Massachusetts. In order to get there, we would drive through Connecticut. On Friday afternoon. (We always tried to leave earlier, but, well, that was always doomed to failure.) On Friday afternoon, Connecticut is a parking lot. Oh, the joy of reaching Rhode Island!
For many years, I speculated upon the best way to improve civilization by removing Connecticut. Perhaps the state could be detached, floated out to sea, and replaced with bridges to efficiently carry traffic. Perhaps the judicious use of a disintegrator ray could clear the path. The annoyance of the Connecticut parking lot loomed so large that even after we stopped regularly vacationing in Massachusetts, I questioned the purpose of Connecticut’s existence.
Now I must stop. Connecticut officially joins West Virginia on the list of States I Will No Longer Mock.
She’s. Not. That. Into. You.
Filed Under Story picks
“Upon Hearing Fred’s Usual Suggestion That the Gang Split Up, Velma Raises a Few Issues” by Jay Dyckman.
Banned books
Perhaps I should have read a banned book this week. Instead I started Anathem and read a bit of Moorcock and developmental psych when I didn’t want to lug around a giant tome.
I did visit the Maurice Sendak exhibit at the Rosenbach Museum and recommend both. I remember Where the Wild Things Are from my childhood as a sort of detached artifact. I enjoyed it, but in the context of Sendak’s life it becomes—not necessarily more interesting, but additionally interesting.
While I like physical books very much, I’ve never had the funds or inclination to fetishize them to the extent of a true collector. I am more on the pack rat end of the scale. I feel affection for beaten up mass market editions I personally read, but my appreciation for rare first editions remains fairly intellectual. But I find the idea of collecting fascinating—particularly the idea of building specific collections, categorizing books along various axes to decide which are appropriate additions to the whole.
The developmental psych is feeding into that fascination as I read about the apparently inborn human trick of grouping like things together. The brain is a weird and terrifying and wonderful thing.