Gordon White tells a story at the end of this episode about a co-worker whose mother had died. She went back to Yorkshire to be with her sister on Christmas when, on Christmas Day, they found a butterfly flying around the kitchen. The sister said, “That’s mom!” Gordon’s co-worker said, “That’s just a butterfly.”
She went back to work and told Gordon this story, to which he replied, “No, that was your mom.”
You want a more enchanted cosmos? Do not be the voice of reason.
As I read Trump say he’s in no hurry to end the war with Iran, I was reminded again of this post from Adam Kotsko:
My overarching question throughout the second Trump administration has been: why hasn’t the other shoe dropped?
… I believe that the answer to this tangle of questions is relatively straightforward: money. American society is largely able to absorb Trump’s destructive actions because we’re the wealthiest nation that has ever existed. And America’s erstwhile allies and trading partners adapt to his behavior because they figure there is still money to be made and any attempt to stand on principle or rein him in would endanger the flow of money. The same is true on the corporate level, as the biggest multinationals have more than enough resources to smooth out the impact of tariffs on consumer prices, for instance by building up huge inventories before they came into effect.
Even the muted response to the closure of the Strait of Hormuz—through which 20% of the world’s staple fuel, as well as countless crucial chemical inputs, have been prevented from flowing—can be chalked up to the cushion that wealth provides, as many countries have built up considerable fuel reserves since the last time the ruler of a major nation got it into his head to do something stupid and disruptive. The situation is certainly regrettable. It’s not what any of them would have chosen. But they can move some things around and make it work. Kings change and kingdoms change, but capitalist accumulation endures forever.
Will we ever burn through these mountains of money and face the consequences of our actions? God only knows.
Finished reading All That’s Unseen: An Appalachian Memior by Emilee Hackney. Holy crap, what a book. I haven’t been that engrossed in a book in a long time. Highly recommended.
Emilee Hackney mentioned pineapple casserole so I had to find out more. Turns out, it’s pretty good!
Emilee Hackney:
To this day, I’ve never been to an Appalachian funeral where there wasn’t a preacher and a sermon.
It’s the same around here. I keep hearing that cremation is now the majority practice but I can count on one hand the number of services or memorials I’ve attended that involved a cremated body. Here, the body is almost always in an open casket and the funeral service always has a preacher, who preaches a sermon well more than half the time. Elsewhere funerals may have changed a lot over the years but my experience of them is essentially unchanged since childhood.
Started reading All That’s Unseen: An Appalachian Memoir by Emilee Hackney a couple of days ago. I’m about a hundred pages in and I think this is going to be a good one.
Some thoughts about my reaction to One Day, not the book itself. There is a part of me—let’s call it “red hot and righteous” after a book title that has never left my mind after seeing it in a used bookstore; let’s shorten that to RHAR and pronounce it rahhrrrr!—that demands that I “do something” in response. Let’s be fair to RHAR: that part of me has done some good work.
Finished reading One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This. Thanks to @jaheppler for reminding me of it. As I read it, the phrase kept rolling through my mind, “the empire must die.” Selfishly, for my family’s sake, I hope its death is not sudden and violent. Maybe there was a time when the empire wasn’t thoroughly corrupt; I wouldn’t know. It’s lies all the way down at this point though. I don’t know what would come next, or whether it would be better. For the sake of a better world, however, the empire must die.
Omar El Akkad, One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This:
The idea that walking away is childish and unproductive is predicated on the inability to imagine anything but a walking away from, never a walking away toward—never that there might exist another destination. The walking away is not nihilism, it’s not cynicism, it’s not doing nothing— it’s a form of engagement more honest, more soul-affirming, than anything the system was ever prepared to offer.
Thinking about Bibles in the Holiness churches of my childhood this morning. Thompson Chain Reference was standard issue. Everyone who wanted to study the Bible had one of these. (Needless to say, Holiness churches were KJV-only.) The conceit of the Thompson–and what made it appealing to Holiness folks–was that it was not a study Bible full of “man’s opinions”; it was a study Bible that directed you back to the text itself.