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Man, Oh Manischewitz

Over at the Hedgehog Review (NB: sadly, they don’t actually review hedgehogs), Steve Lagerfeld assesses the rise of the contrarian crowd—then utterly eviscerates the democratization of outsiderness:

Much of what social critics decry as rampant individualism in contemporary America is really rampant crowd behavior. It is herds of people busily declaring that they are not part of the herd. Whether you’re a Satanist or an alt-right activist, you sign up for a total lifestyle package that includes a limited menu of approved ideas, clothing styles, and other badges you can choose from to express your individuality. What you get in return is an intense sense of belonging and identity—we’re all pariahs here! Americans once derived the satisfactions of association from traditional institutions—family, community, church, state, employers, unions. As the hold of these institutions has weakened, we have parceled out our belonging to ideas, images, and ideologies that allow us to feel part of a larger whole. Our commitment to them may not amount to much more than pasting a bumper sticker on the family SUV. Many people weave together an array of looser group identities, becoming Prius-driving vegan Democrats or hoodie-wearing tech libertarians, elaborating their identities with the clothes they buy, the foods they eat, and other badges of affiliation. A tattoo or perhaps a piercing may top off the ensemble, giving it all an overtly outlaw edge. Others opt for the more intense commitment and rewards of belonging to a contrarian crowd. And in recent years, even many casual affiliations have hardened into something more tribal and adversarial. Partisan loyalty, for example, was once a loose form of membership that most people inherited like the family photo albums. Now it is becoming more like a uniform one puts on to signal an array of commitments and defiant self-declarations.

“Banding together is a healthy human impulse,” Lagerfeld concludes. “Banding together in knots of narcissistic fury is not.”

As with most things of cultural significance or sociological import, however, our own Skooch was there first when he blogged in this very space about the mainstreaming of hipsterdom. And that was in August 2017, before it was cool.

Seems About Right

Normally, I wouldn’t just throw a link up here on the blog without some sort of explanation or witty commentary. But this, well…this is different. I’m not even sure what to say, other than here’s what you find when you drain a canal in Amsterdam.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“From certain angles,” writes Nick Davidson over at Outside magazine, “it looks like we’re hanging over the precipice. Climate change-fueled disasters like monster hurricanes, megafires, and 100-year droughts are becoming ever more frequent. A solar superstorm could wipe out the grid, the New Madrid fault might go at any moment, and, of course, there’s always potential for a zombie flu epidemic.”

Still, in this era in which Everything Is Terrible™, it’s nice to know that some of us are focused on the important things in life. Like, say, how many exclamation marks are required in order to seem genuinely enthusiastic.

All Hail Long-Form Journalism

Years ago, when I was flirting with the rather ridiculous notion of pursuing an MFA in creative writing, I came across the advice of a writer whose work I admired. “You want to learn how to write?” he asked. “Read every back issue of the New Yorker.”

It was not only a lot cheaper than graduate school, he argued—at the time, you could purchase the entire archive on CD-ROM for around $500—but also a far more effective teacher.

Since then, political hackery, artistic predictability, and everything ever written by the criminally unfunny Andy Borowitz have made me doubt the veracity of the claim. But every so often I’m reminded of the magazine’s greatness. This week, it’s “The Obsessive Search for the Tasmanian Tiger,” which you can read here.

I should probably re-up my subscription.

Monday Miscellany

Donald Hall died over the weekend. If you’re unfamiliar with his work, start here.

“Fashions have always come back around again, but now we are living through a kind of Dadaist cut-up of eras, in which brands and companies borrow from, adapt and disrupt any and all time periods; it’s all up for grabs, provided it’s old.” More on hipster nostalgia.

Madness from the American Library Association.

“What little we know for sure about [Jean-Michel] Basquiat can be said simply: An extraordinary painterly sensitivity expressed itself in the person of a young black male, the locus of terror and misgiving in a racist society. That, and rich people love to collect his work.”

“[T]he passing of another milestone on the road to true AI….”? Yawn.

Still a Tonic for Our Times

To anyone who knows her, it should come as no surprise that Courtney is responsible for sending me this link to all things Mister Rogers. She thought I’d dig the “guide to talking to children,” which features some of the rules for the show’s writers.

Truth is, the entire thing is worth reading and thinking about. (And be sure to watch the linked videos. With a hanky nearby, preferably.)

There’s only one thing I disagree with, and that’s the opening sentence: “The world could really use Fred Rogers right now.” But the world has always needed Fred Rogers, because the world has always been pretty stupid. Or, as the man himself put it somewhat more delicately, “not always a kind place.”

I suppose there are a couple of reasons I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. The show debuted when I was about eight months old—so I pretty much grew up with it—and I had a childhood that, well…let’s just say it needed help building the “solid emotional foundations and the ability to cope with life’s problems” that Rogers was shooting for.

“When I was a child,” writes Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians,  “I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things.” That’s all well and good, of course, but, as you eventually learn when you become a man—or a woman—Truth is Truth, no matter how old you are. Mister Rogers believed it, lived it, and spoke it. And I’m betting I could still learn a thing or two from him today.

Quote of the Day

Apparently Swiss-born British philosopher and “writer of essayistic books” Alain de Botton knows me personally: “Work finally begins,” he says, “when the fear of doing nothing exceeds the fear of doing it badly.”

Nine of Thirty

The 2017 annual report for Hecla Mining Company marks our 30th edition.


It was the summer of 1988 when we first received word that we were chosen to design the report – the same year our firm was founded. And since we’re celebrating helvetica’s 30th anniversary (all year long), it seems appropriate that an animation of all 30 annual report covers is in order.

Friday Afternoon Diversion

This, folks, is how you hook a reader:

Start with Noam Chomsky, Deepak Chopra, and a robot that loves you no matter what. Add a knighted British physicist, a renowned French neuroscientist, and a prominent Australian philosopher/occasional blues singer. Toss in a bunch of psychologists, mathematicians, anesthesiologists, artists, meditators, a computer programmer or two, and several busloads of amateur theorists waving self-published manuscripts and touting grand unified solutions. Send them all to a swanky resort in the desert for a week, supply them with lots of free coffee and beer, and ask them to unpack a riddle so confounding that it’s unclear how to make progress or where you’d even begin.

Then just, like, see what happens.

I mean really—how can you not want to continue? Read the rest of Tom Bartlett’s “Has Consciousness Lost Its Mind?” over at the Chronicle of Higher Education.

Mishmash

Today on the blog, a Benedictine Beatnik and his concrete poetry, and a newly discovered 1963 recording of the John Coltrane Quartet—”an epochal band in its prime”—is about to be released for the first time.

By the way, I have a birthday coming up, so if you’re wondering what to get me, well…let’s just say that the deluxe version (with the seven alternate takes) of Both Directions at Once: The Lost Album is currently at the top of my list. And if you really want to curry favor with me, you’ll include one of these. Just saying.

War: What Is It Good For?

After the first two waves of Operation Steinbock, the Nazi’s final bomber offensive of WWII, “nearly 100 Londoners were wounded or dead. It was just the beginning of a deadly four-month air onslaught against Great Britain the likes of which the country hadn’t seen since the war’s grim early days.”

The novelist George Beardmore, who had been declared medically unfit for military service, was spending the war documenting its effects on his fellow Londoners. In a journal entry dated June 12, 1944—two weeks after Operation Steinbock ended and seventy-four years ago today—Beardmore reminds us of the totality of the devastation:

Other side-effects of bombs are the stripping of leaves from wayside trees, the deaths by blast of sparrows, chaffinches, etc., and the awful things that happen to cats and dogs. We had a man complain that thirty of his forty-odd small birds in a backyard aviary had been killed by blast, half a mile or so away from where the bomb had landed.

Stop! Grammar Time!

Let’s talk about compounds and hyphenation.

Y’all know what a compound is, right? Two or more words, put together, that form a new meaning—like, say, railroad (rail + road = new mode of transportation) or skateboard (skate + board = juvenile delinquents hanging out in empty swimming pools).

Both of these are what are called “closed” compounds; an example of the “open” form is high school. And when an open compound is used to modify another word, that’s when we need to start thinking about hyphenation.

Here’s what I mean:

I met a high school student on my way to work this morning.

High school is an open compound modifying student. Or, at least, that’s one way of reading it. The other way is to treat high school not as a compound, but as two distinct words—which changes the meaning dramatically: Either we’re talking about (a) a student who’s attending a high school (high school + student), or (b) one who has recently partaken of the Devil’s lettuce (high + school student). It’s what we like to call “ambiguity,” and it’s a bad thing in writing.

The good news? A hyphen solves the problem!

I met a high-school student on my way to work this morning.

See how that works? By connecting the two parts of an open compound with that little dash, we’re telling the reader that they belong together, thus eliminating any possibility of ambiguity.

Which brings us to open compounds in which the first word is an adverb ending in -ly.

“I want to up my fashion game,” said Skooch, “but I don’t know where to start.”
“You should pay attention to that Aaron guy,” said Courtney. “He’s one smartly dressed dude.”

In this case, while smartly dressed is indeed a compound modifying dude, there’s no risk of ambiguity here—smartly is already modifying dressed.

I know, I know, it seems complicated at first. But it’s actually pretty simple when you remember that clarity is the goal of all punctuation. When your reader is spending less time trying to decipher a particularly knotty passage, they’re ultimately getting more out of your writing.

Deep Breath, Everyone

On a day in which we mourn the passing of the inimitable Anthony Bourdain and learn that Washington Post columnist Charles Krauthammer has just weeks to live, we’re also reminded, via the cesspool that is Twitter, that there exist on this Earth an inordinate number of assholes—people who revel in the misfortune of anyone they disagree with politically.

If you’re tempted to go down that path, maybe take just a moment to read Ian Marcus Corbin today. “Politics,” he writes, “may be a necessary evil—but talking incessantly about politics and viewing your countrymen solely through a political lens is an evil that we’re actively choosing, day by day. We should stop.”

Okay. Last politics post for a while, folks. Pinky swear.

It Matters

“Writers think I’m out to destroy their prose,” says Atlantic senior copy editor Karen Ostergren. “Laypeople think I’m a human version of spellcheck. Neither is right.”

Yes, copy editors are responsible for fixing the grammar and spelling in a piece, and that in itself is an important function.…But the responsibilities don’t stop there. The Atlantic’s copy editors think of our role as standing in for the reader. Before a magazine piece gets to the copy desk, it has gone through days or weeks or months of trimming, expanding, and rewriting with its main editor. It has ideally also been read by one or more of the magazine’s top editors to address any glaring holes.

She goes on to describe her team’s copyediting routine, ending with what I think is the most important—and by far the most difficult: “Take a deep breath and learn to move on.”

Today on the Blog: Something for Everyone

We don’t normally do politics around here. But “The High Price of Stale Grievances” by Coleman Hughes is a serious, well-written analysis of the tribalism that threatens to tear us apart. It’s definitely worth your time.

Not concerned about the possibility of racial balkanization? Think the recent breakdown in civil discourse is no big deal? Convinced the pendulum is about to swing the other way?

Maybe so—but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to worry about. A werewolf was photographed outside Elkhorn, Wisconsin.

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