Author: Sineokov

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First line

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.

— Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)
(post inspiration)

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Poet professor in autumn years
seeks helpmate companion protector friend
young lover w/empty compassionate soul
exuberant spirit, straightforward handsome
athletic physique & boundless mind, courageous
warrior who may also like women&girls, no problem,
to share bed meditation apartment Lower East Side,
help inspire mankind conquer world anger & guilt,
empowered by Whitman Blake Rimbaud Ma Rainey & Vivaldi,
familiar respecting Art’s primordial majesty, priapic carefree
playful harmless slave or master, mortally tender passing swift time,
photographer, musician, painter, poet, yuppie or scholar
Find me here in New York alone with the Alone
going to lady psychiatrist who says Make time in your life
for someone you can call darling, honey, who holds you dear
can get excited & lay his head on your heart in peace.

— Allen Ginsberg
via toadustyshelfweaspire

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From “Vertigo”

By Jason Oberholtzer
thoughtcatalog

[1]

I stood on the balcony of a friend’s ninth-floor apartment in Boston last summer and talked about jumping. He had just finished convincing me that The Beatles would have been less successful with John Bonham as their drummer, so in return, I was convincing him that I knew why people put in high places think about the logistics of jumping, or why there exists that moment when, driving windy back roads at night, we are hit with the realization that it is within our power to put our bumper full speed into the nearest tree, or why we do advanced physics and why our legs tense when the train we are waiting for approaches.

“It comes down to power,” I told him. “At this moment, we face a choice. We have the power to effect great change immediately, but at the expense of the future. Let’s look at it as a gamble. There is before me an option to do something with immediate and enormous repercussions. It will impact the world, or at least my corner of it, more than any other action I have available to me at the moment. There will be the outpouring of grief, the hurt, the questions. The impact of my time alive will be clear, as it is defined by the legacy of my death. It is instant access to meaning, right there in front of me. Therefore, all morality of the decision aside, every time I don’t jump, I am choosing to believe that this sudden conclusion is not worth it. I’m betting that the aggregate impact of my life will be greater than the impact of ending it. And this has nothing to do with happiness or sadness or anything that took place before the moment I reached this railing. This is just being aware of your options, even when doing so makes you flinch. And it is more my body, driven by something primitive, that recognizes the options, that recoils even while advancing, drawn as to a Siren to … something. I’m not quite sure what. Okay, now we can pull morality back into it, at least as it pertains to my responsibility to other people. It’s not guilt that makes us think of others in this moment, nor is it some abstract morality. It is a gaze down at our chips. We count all those people we know, who we care about, who we love. We count our intellectual endeavors, the questions we want to answer. We count everything we know to be beautiful, all our aesthetic goals. We count all the mysteries that would end. We do this all in an instant and mash it all together into a sense of self. Here is what we have to wager. We then look to the future and weigh the unknown. We know there will be struggle and pain and sorrow and loss, because ultimately that one certainty in life vibrates through all previous events. We do not know what will happen to us or what our lives will mean in spite of this certainty. The same vivid imagination that is currently running through a checklist of muscles and driving my adrenaline, as I place my hand on this railing, takes our sense of self, then draws either from memories or predictions, from dreams, from art, from that primitive place, and creates for itself a home, right in the pits of our stomachs, where it can iterate. The future is born in our stomachs. Multiple futures. Visceral possibilities. And when this happens, I can’t help it and I fall in love with the future. I have no evidence that the pros will outweigh the cons; I can’t point to anything that suggests I will make an impact that I can intellectually stack up against the power I have at this very moment. But since when did love make sense? Standing up here, or driving those windy roads, or watching an approaching train, we gamble. We feel the power granted us at that moment, and our intellect and our emotions and our instincts all have their say. And the amazing, beautiful, possibly transcendent thing about humanity is that we almost always bet on ourselves.”

— An excerpt taken from “Vertigo,”
an essay found in
I Love Charts: The Book,
available now for pre-order.

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Categories

At each stage, Teilkommandos were detached to identify, arrest, and execute potential opponents. Most of them, it should be said, were Jews. But we also shot Commissars or cadres of the Bolshevik Party, when we found them, thieves, looters, farmers who were hiding their grain, Gypsies too, Beck would have been happy. Von Radetzky had explained to us that we had to reason in terms of objective threat: since unmasking each and every guilty individual was impossible, we had to identify the sociopolitical categories most liable to cause us harm, and act accordingly.

— Jonathan Littell, The Kindly Ones

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The Creative Monopoly

By David Brooks
nytimes

As a young man, Peter Thiel competed to get into Stanford. Then he competed to get into Stanford Law School. Then he competed to become a clerk for a federal judge. Thiel won all those competitions. But then he competed to get a Supreme Court clerkship.

Thiel lost that one. So instead of being a clerk, he went out and founded PayPal. Then he became an early investor in Facebook and many other celebrated technology firms. Somebody later asked him. “So, aren’t you glad you didn’t get that Supreme Court clerkship?”

The question got Thiel thinking. His thoughts are now incorporated into a course he is teaching in the Stanford Computer Science Department. (A student named Blake Masters posted outstanding notes online, and Thiel has confirmed their accuracy.)

One of his core points is that we tend to confuse capitalism with competition. We tend to think that whoever competes best comes out ahead. In the race to be more competitive, we sometimes confuse what is hard with what is valuable. The intensity of competition becomes a proxy for value.

In fact, Thiel argues, we often shouldn’t seek to be really good competitors. We should seek to be really good monopolists. Instead of being slightly better than everybody else in a crowded and established field, it’s often more valuable to create a new market and totally dominate it. The profit margins are much bigger, and the value to society is often bigger, too.

Now to be clear: When Thiel is talking about a “monopoly,” he isn’t talking about the illegal eliminate-your-rivals kind. He’s talking about doing something so creative that you establish a distinct market, niche and identity. You’ve established a creative monopoly and everybody has to come to you if they want that service, at least for a time.

His lecture points to a provocative possibility: that the competitive spirit capitalism engenders can sometimes inhibit the creativity it requires.

Think about the traits that creative people possess. Creative people don’t follow the crowds; they seek out the blank spots on the map. Creative people wander through faraway and forgotten traditions and then integrate marginal perspectives back to the mainstream. Instead of being fastest around the tracks everybody knows, creative people move adaptively through wildernesses nobody knows.

Now think about the competitive environment that confronts the most fortunate people today and how it undermines those mind-sets.

First, students have to jump through ever-more demanding, preassigned academic hoops. Instead of developing a passion for one subject, they’re rewarded for becoming professional students, getting great grades across all subjects, regardless of their intrinsic interests. Instead of wandering across strange domains, they have to prudentially apportion their time, making productive use of each hour.

Then they move into a ranking system in which the most competitive college, program and employment opportunity is deemed to be the best. There is a status funnel pointing to the most competitive colleges and banks and companies, regardless of their appropriateness.

Then they move into businesses in which the main point is to beat the competition, in which the competitive juices take control and gradually obliterate other goals. I see this in politics all the time. Candidates enter politics wanting to be authentic and change things. But once the candidates enter the campaign, they stop focusing on how to be change-agents. They and their staff spend all their time focusing on beating the other guy. They hone the skills of one-upsmanship. They get engulfed in a tit-for-tat competition to win the news cycle. Instead of being new and authentic, they become artificial mirror opposites of their opponents. Instead of providing the value voters want — change — they become canned tacticians, hoping to eke out a slight win over the other side.

Competition has trumped value-creation. In this and other ways, the competitive arena undermines innovation.

You know somebody has been sucked into the competitive myopia when they start using sports or war metaphors. Sports and war are competitive enterprises. If somebody hits three home runs against you in the top of the inning, your job is to go hit four home runs in the bottom of the inning.

But business, politics, intellectual life and most other realms are not like that. In most realms, if somebody hits three home runs against you in one inning, you have the option of picking up your equipment and inventing a different game. You don’t have to compete; you can invent.

We live in a culture that nurtures competitive skills. And they are necessary: discipline, rigor and reliability. But it’s probably a good idea to try to supplement them with the skills of the creative monopolist: alertness, independence and the ability to reclaim forgotten traditions.

Everybody worries about American competitiveness. That may be the wrong problem. The future of the country will probably be determined by how well Americans can succeed at being monopolists.

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We must stop bullying. It starts here. And it starts now.

By the Sioux City Journal editorial board
siouxcityjournal

Siouxland lost a young life to a senseless, shameful tragedy last week. By all accounts, Kenneth Weishuhn was a kind-hearted, fun-loving teenage boy, always looking to make others smile. But when the South O’Brien High School 14-year-old told friends he was gay, the harassment and bullying began. It didn’t let up until he took his own life.

Sadly, Kenneth’s story is far from unique. Boys and girls across Iowa and beyond are targeted every day. In this case sexual orientation appears to have played a role, but we have learned a bully needs no reason to strike. No sense can be made of these actions.

Now our community and region must face this stark reality: We are all to blame. We have not done enough. Not nearly enough.

This is not a failure of one group of kids, one school, one town, one county or one geographic area. Rather, it exposes a fundamental flaw in our society, one that has deep-seated roots. Until now, it has been too difficult, inconvenient — maybe even painful — to address. But we can’t keep looking away.

In Kenneth’s case, the warnings were everywhere. We saw it happen in other communities, now it has hit home. Undoubtedly, it wasn’t the first life lost to bullying here, but we can strive to make it the last.

The documentary “Bully,” which depicts the bullying of an East Middle School student, opened in Sioux City on Friday. We urge everyone to see it. At its core, it is a heart-breaking tale of how far we have yet to go. Despite its award-winning, proactive policies, we see there is still much work to be done in Sioux City schools.

Superintendent Paul Gausman is absolutely correct when he says “it takes all of us to solve the problem.” But schools must be at the forefront of our battle against bullying.

Sioux City must continue to strengthen its resolve and its policies. Clearly, South O’Brien High School needs to alter its approach. We urge Superintendent Dan Moore to rethink his stance that “we have all the things in place to deal with it.” It should be evident that is simply not the case.

South O’Brien isn’t the only school that needs help. A Journal Des Moines bureau report last year demonstrated that too many schools don’t take bullying seriously. According to that report, Iowa school districts, on average, reported less than 2 percent of their students had been bullied in any given year since the state passed its anti-bullying law in 2007. That statistic belies the actual depth of this problem, and in response the Iowa Department of Education will implement a more comprehensive anti-bullying and harassment policy in the 2012-13 school year.

But as Gausman and Nate Monson, director of Iowa Safe Schools, are quick to remind us, this is more than a school problem. If we want to eradicate bullying in our community, we can’t rely on schools alone.

We need to support local agencies like the Waitt Institute for Violence Prevention and national efforts like the one described at stopbullying.gov. Bullying takes many forms, some of them – Internet, Facebook, cell phone – more subtle than others. Parents should monitor the cell phone and Internet usage of their children. All public and private institutions need to do more to demonstrate that bullying is simply unacceptable in our workplaces and in our homes. We need to educate ourselves and others.

Some in our community will say bullying is simply a part of life. If no one is physically hurt, they will say, what’s the big deal? It’s just boys being boys and girls being girls.

Those people are wrong, and they must be shouted down.

We must make it clear in our actions and our words that bullying will not be tolerated. Those of us in public life must be ever mindful of the words we choose, especially in the contentious political debates that have defined our modern times. More importantly, we must not be afraid to act.

How many times have each of us witnessed an act of bullying and said little or nothing? After all, it wasn’t our responsibility. A teacher or an official of some kind should step in. If our kid wasn’t involved, we figured, it’s none of our business.

Try to imagine explaining that rationale to the mother of Kenneth Weishuhn.

It is the business of all of us. More specifically, it is our responsibility. Our mandate.

If we’re honest with ourselves, we will acknowledge our community has yet to view bullying in quite this way. It’s well past time to do so.

Stand up. Be heard. And don’t back down. Together, we can put a stop to bullying.

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Spamazon

There are a number of books on Amazon with similar titles to much more popular ones. Fifty Shades of Grey, the steamy romance novel that has created buzz around the world, is the No. 1 selling book on Amazon. Also available on Amazon: Thirty-Five Shades of Grey. Both books are written by authors with two first initials – E. L. James and J. D. Lyte – and both are the first in a trilogy about a young girl who falls for an older, successful man with a taste for domineering sex. The publisher of the bestseller Fifty says the book is “a tale that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever.” The author and publisher of Thirty-Five, which came out in early April, apparently believe that description fits their book as well, word-for-word. Also selling on Amazon is I am the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Twilight New Moon. Neither is the book you are likely looking for.

— Stephen Gandel
fortune