The book: Quicksilver by Neal Stephenson
Opening line: Enoch rounds the corner just as the executioner raises the noose above the woman's head.
Ending: Hooke took up his blade and reached for Daniel.
Quicksilver is about. . . well, pretty much everything. Volume one of a trilogy ("The Baroque Cycle"), Quicksilver is a historical novel set primarily in the late 17th century. The action begins shortly after the overthrow of Oliver Cromwell and ends shortly after the Glorious Revolution of 1688. While prior knowledge of British history is helpful to following the plot, it's not necessary; indeed, the novel is a far more palatable medium for learning the history than anything you're likely to have read in high school.
The world of Quicksilver is the world of Isaac Newton and Gottfried Leibniz, of King James II of England and Louis XIV of France, and of Daniel Waterhouse and Eliza, the Countess de la Zeur. You've never heard of those last two, the main fictional protagonists, around whom the worlds of science and politics swirl. Daniel is a Natural Philosopher--what we would today call a scientist. The son of a prominent Puritan who came to a bad end upon the Reformation, Daniel is a follower of both Newton and Leibniz and ultimately a member of the Court of James II (despite the latter's crypto-Catholicism). Eliza is a seductive escapee from a Turkish harem, who eventually ensconces herself in Versailles as a spy for William III of the Netherlands. Somewhat unique among women, she can carry on conversations with royal courtiers, proto-capitalists, and erudite mathematicians. She's also not bad in a fight.
A lot goes on in this novel. Stephenson vividly recreates a world on the brink of major changes (indeed, this was the period in which the word "revolution" first came to have a political meaning). In the world of science, Newton and Leibniz are separately developing the system of calculus, the mathematics of change. Disputes rage, also, between alchemists and natural philosophers. In politics, of course, rivalries and alliances are constantly in flux, as England aligns itself with the Dutch against the French, with the French against the Dutch, and ultimately stands largely alone against its Dutch conqueror. It is to the author's credit that he manages to keep all these balls in the air without losing his readers in a maelstrom of names, dates, and places.
As to the opening and closing: While the novel is not overly violent, this was a chaotic time in European history. Armies clashed, rulers were overthrown, and even in the stately realms of science, blood flowed freely (vivisection was a favorite technique of the natural philosophers). In a book concerning deep philosophical issues and monumental moments of change, Stephenson reminds us that some things--like death--are constants.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Last Night Was the Night
Today, despite our raucous celebration of National Punctuation Day (has it been a year already) (and check out that punctuation!), we want to talk about "Dexter."
We just finished watching season 4 on DVD, and we have a minor quibble.
MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT!!! If, like the Solipsist, you are a fan of the show, but (also like the Solipsist) you watch the show on DVD and have not yet seen season 4, and you do not want to know what happens at the end STOP READING IMMEDIATELY!
YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!!!
OK, everybody gone?
We actually heard about the death of Rita before we saw the season finale. While we felt suitably distressed (and more than a little irritated) upon hearing this, we didn't know exactly how she would meet her end. We figured she would fall victim to Trinity, and, of course, we were right, but we're kind of annoyed by what most people will probably consider a minor detail.
Trinity, of course, was Dexter's nemesis this season, and his nom de killing came from the fact that he would always kill in threes (well, really "fours," but of course we don't find that out 'til later): First, he kills a young, single woman in a bathtub by slashing her femoral artery; next, a mother is coerced into jumping off a building; finally, a middle-aged father is bludgeoned to death. Rita is killed in a bathtub, but, being the slightly older mother of two, she should have fallen from a great height.
Now, we know what you will say (especially if you've seen the show): Trinity killed Rita to get back at Dexter. She wasn't so much a part of his pattern as a "one-off." Plus, killing her in the bathtub allowed for the striking and symbolically charged image of Dexter and Rita's baby crying in a pool of blood. We get that. Our complaint is not that this ending "doesn't make sense" so much as that the writers could easily have orchestrated the ending so that Rita's death did fit into Trinity's pattern. All they would have had to do is have him kill a random single woman in some episode before the finale. Then, Rita could have "taken her proper place"--the mother--in the chain of Trinity's process. Same shock effect, and more narrative satisfaction.
Yes, we're spending a lot of time and energy on what seems like a minor point--what is a minor point. But with a show as meticulously crafted and plotted as "Dexter," any little slip has a greater niggle-factor. The closer a work of art comes to perfection, the more any imperfections stand out.
We just finished watching season 4 on DVD, and we have a minor quibble.
MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT!!! If, like the Solipsist, you are a fan of the show, but (also like the Solipsist) you watch the show on DVD and have not yet seen season 4, and you do not want to know what happens at the end STOP READING IMMEDIATELY!
YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!!!
OK, everybody gone?
We actually heard about the death of Rita before we saw the season finale. While we felt suitably distressed (and more than a little irritated) upon hearing this, we didn't know exactly how she would meet her end. We figured she would fall victim to Trinity, and, of course, we were right, but we're kind of annoyed by what most people will probably consider a minor detail.
Trinity, of course, was Dexter's nemesis this season, and his nom de killing came from the fact that he would always kill in threes (well, really "fours," but of course we don't find that out 'til later): First, he kills a young, single woman in a bathtub by slashing her femoral artery; next, a mother is coerced into jumping off a building; finally, a middle-aged father is bludgeoned to death. Rita is killed in a bathtub, but, being the slightly older mother of two, she should have fallen from a great height.
Now, we know what you will say (especially if you've seen the show): Trinity killed Rita to get back at Dexter. She wasn't so much a part of his pattern as a "one-off." Plus, killing her in the bathtub allowed for the striking and symbolically charged image of Dexter and Rita's baby crying in a pool of blood. We get that. Our complaint is not that this ending "doesn't make sense" so much as that the writers could easily have orchestrated the ending so that Rita's death did fit into Trinity's pattern. All they would have had to do is have him kill a random single woman in some episode before the finale. Then, Rita could have "taken her proper place"--the mother--in the chain of Trinity's process. Same shock effect, and more narrative satisfaction.
Yes, we're spending a lot of time and energy on what seems like a minor point--what is a minor point. But with a show as meticulously crafted and plotted as "Dexter," any little slip has a greater niggle-factor. The closer a work of art comes to perfection, the more any imperfections stand out.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
The End of the World as We Know It
We refer not to this afternoon's brief Facebook outage, which, to judge from the reactions of our friends and "friends," was a 9/11-level traumatic event, but rather to the banned Katy Perry duet on Sesame Street. The romantic (?) duet between the busty chanteuse and everyone's favorite whatever-the-hell-he-is, Elmo, was pulled from the show after parents complained about Perry's "provocative" (read: cleavage-approximating) outfit.
Now, we admit to being somewhat fuzzy on the details of exactly who Katy Perry is. We know she's a singer, somewhat less famous than Lady Gaga and somewhat more famous (depressingly) than Aimee Mann. We think she's the one who, a few years ago, stirred up the fantasies of arrestedly-developed males with her revelation that she "kissed a girl and she liked it." (Big deal! So have we!) We do, however, feel that people who protested her "racy outfit" need to, well, get a life.
Years ago, the Solipsist performed with a children's theater troupe (see, "The Actor's Nightmare," 10/17/09). One of his fellow cast members was an extremely attractive woman who played "The Sun." At one point in the show, she had to bend over to speak to children in the front row, and she realized that her blouse would fall open slightly, affording the audience a mildly "inappropriate" view. She suggested that it might be better for her simply to kneel down to be closer to the children, but the director nixed that idea. He told her simply to make a bit out of it: to bend over, "realize" that her shirt was slightly open at the top, and modestly reach up and hold the shirt closed. "After all," he explained, "there are fathers in the audience."
Indeed, Sesame Street gets this, as well. In their statement announcing the self-censorship, they explained, "'Sesame Street' has always been written on two levels, for the child and adult." Parents need stuff to look at, too.
And let's face it: How "corrupted" would the child-audience be by this video. Given the show's target demographic, most viewers looking at Perry's bahoogies would be more likely to think about lunch than lust.
Now, we admit to being somewhat fuzzy on the details of exactly who Katy Perry is. We know she's a singer, somewhat less famous than Lady Gaga and somewhat more famous (depressingly) than Aimee Mann. We think she's the one who, a few years ago, stirred up the fantasies of arrestedly-developed males with her revelation that she "kissed a girl and she liked it." (Big deal! So have we!) We do, however, feel that people who protested her "racy outfit" need to, well, get a life.
Years ago, the Solipsist performed with a children's theater troupe (see, "The Actor's Nightmare," 10/17/09). One of his fellow cast members was an extremely attractive woman who played "The Sun." At one point in the show, she had to bend over to speak to children in the front row, and she realized that her blouse would fall open slightly, affording the audience a mildly "inappropriate" view. She suggested that it might be better for her simply to kneel down to be closer to the children, but the director nixed that idea. He told her simply to make a bit out of it: to bend over, "realize" that her shirt was slightly open at the top, and modestly reach up and hold the shirt closed. "After all," he explained, "there are fathers in the audience."
Indeed, Sesame Street gets this, as well. In their statement announcing the self-censorship, they explained, "'Sesame Street' has always been written on two levels, for the child and adult." Parents need stuff to look at, too.
And let's face it: How "corrupted" would the child-audience be by this video. Given the show's target demographic, most viewers looking at Perry's bahoogies would be more likely to think about lunch than lust.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Linguistic Musings
A couple of things:
Back when we first joined Facebook, we noticed an idiosyncrasy in the way people responded to comments: The '@' sign (which for some reason turned into a link after we typed it just now--something else for someone to explain). Thus, if the Solipsist posts something as his status, and other people comment on his status, the Solipsist, if he wishes to reply to one of these comments, is supposed to put @ followed by the name of the person he is responding to (e.g., "@FOS: We liked your comment"). Indeed, the Solipsist has adopted this signal for responding to blog comments.
Our question: Whence came this particular convention? If one wishes to abbreviate "to," why not just type the Twitter-approved '2'? Maybe that was the intention, the '@' resting just above the '2' in shift-land; perhaps Commenter Zero's finger just slipped, and we're all just perpetuating a typo. Alternatively, though, why not just direct one's comments to the appropriate party without any signaling device (e.g., "FOS: We liked your comment.")? Anyone who can shed light on the derivation of this convention will be amply rewarded.
Speaking of Facebook, which phrasing sounds correct to you?
(A) "I have a Facebook account."
(B) "I'm on Facebook."
(C) "I have a Facebook."
If you're of the Solipsist's generation, you probably said 'A' and 'B' are correct, and 'C' is not. "Facebook" being a proper--and non-countable--noun, one should not use the indefinite article in front of it. Indeed, when we found this construction in a student's writing, we whipped out the old red pen and wrote in the word "account." When, however, we saw this construction is several pieces of student writing, we became curious. We conducted extensive research--specifically, we talked to a 20-year-old--to get the dirt on "what the kids are saying these days," and we discovered that, in fact, "I have a Facebook" is perfectly acceptable. Indeed, if you say "I have a Facebook account." it apparently marks you as an old fogey, member of Facebook 1.0, and you will be snickered at. "I'm on Facebook," however, is still moderately OK.
So the next time you talk about your Facebook status and don't get mocked by a punk, you're welcome. Just another service brought to you by the Solipsist.
Back when we first joined Facebook, we noticed an idiosyncrasy in the way people responded to comments: The '@' sign (which for some reason turned into a link after we typed it just now--something else for someone to explain). Thus, if the Solipsist posts something as his status, and other people comment on his status, the Solipsist, if he wishes to reply to one of these comments, is supposed to put @ followed by the name of the person he is responding to (e.g., "@FOS: We liked your comment"). Indeed, the Solipsist has adopted this signal for responding to blog comments.
Our question: Whence came this particular convention? If one wishes to abbreviate "to," why not just type the Twitter-approved '2'? Maybe that was the intention, the '@' resting just above the '2' in shift-land; perhaps Commenter Zero's finger just slipped, and we're all just perpetuating a typo. Alternatively, though, why not just direct one's comments to the appropriate party without any signaling device (e.g., "FOS: We liked your comment.")? Anyone who can shed light on the derivation of this convention will be amply rewarded.
Speaking of Facebook, which phrasing sounds correct to you?
(A) "I have a Facebook account."
(B) "I'm on Facebook."
(C) "I have a Facebook."
If you're of the Solipsist's generation, you probably said 'A' and 'B' are correct, and 'C' is not. "Facebook" being a proper--and non-countable--noun, one should not use the indefinite article in front of it. Indeed, when we found this construction in a student's writing, we whipped out the old red pen and wrote in the word "account." When, however, we saw this construction is several pieces of student writing, we became curious. We conducted extensive research--specifically, we talked to a 20-year-old--to get the dirt on "what the kids are saying these days," and we discovered that, in fact, "I have a Facebook" is perfectly acceptable. Indeed, if you say "I have a Facebook account." it apparently marks you as an old fogey, member of Facebook 1.0, and you will be snickered at. "I'm on Facebook," however, is still moderately OK.
So the next time you talk about your Facebook status and don't get mocked by a punk, you're welcome. Just another service brought to you by the Solipsist.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Technology Makes Our Lives Easier
This, with only slight exaggeration, has been our day:
Our office is located in a resource center at a community college--the place where students come to use computers, receive tutoring, and generally make the Solipsist's life miserable. This morning, the gentleman who manages the resource center was running late, which meant we were responsible for fixing any minor technical glitches that might arise. Thus, before we had even had a chance to sip our life-giving coffee, one of our tutors--a tutor!--came into our office with a problem.
"Solipsist, the copier isn't turned on."
"OK, it's not work-- Wait, what?"
"The copier isn't turned on."
"Um, OK."
"So, should I turn it on?"
"That sounds like a good idea."
"I just wanted to make sure. . . ."
"OK."
"I just don't want to break the printer."
"'Break the. . .'? How would you-- Do you want us to turn the printer on for you?"
"Well, I don't want to put you out."
"No, no! It would be our pleasure! Don't trouble yourself at all!"
We turned on the printer, at which point we were accosted by an instructor who had brought her class to use a computer classroom.
"Can you help me get started?"
"Umm. . .Sure." We went into the computer lab. "What seems to be the problem?
"I need to use an ESL program on the computer."
"OK. Do you know which program?"
"Yes, but I don't see it."
"That's because you haven't turned the computer on."
"Oh." We turned the computer on for her.
"OK, now, how do I run the program?"
"Do you know the name of the program?"
"Yes. It's ________."
"This one?"we asked, pointing at an icon.
"Yes."
"Click it."
She managed to click the icon and open the program without too much additional difficulty. Then. however, she became troubled. "But the students don't have headphones."
"Do they need headphones?"
"Well, I want to show them a video."
"OK. On the big screen at the front of the room?"
"Yes."
"There are speakers for that screen. They don't need headphones."
"They don't?"
"They don't."
"How will they be able to hear the sound?"
"Do you have a television at home?"
"What?"
"A television. Do you have one?"
"Yes."
"Do you need to wear headphones to hear it?"
"What?"
Urge to kill. . . rising. "Can you hear the noises coming out of the picture box without headphones."
"Yes."
"OK. Same principle here."
We left before we screamed, but, as we left the computer lab, a student came up to us. "Excuse me, Mr. . .Solenoid?"
"Close enough."
"I think the copier's broken."
"Hmm. . . . Why do we have a feeling it hasn't been turned on yet?"
"What?"
"Nothing." We turned the copier on. As we turned around, we came face to face with the aforementioned instructor." "ACK!"
"There's no sound coming out!"
"Really?" This actually sounded like an honest-to-God glitch! We went back into the computer lab. We went over to the volume control and cranked it to 11. Nothing. We were stymied. Then we looked at the instructor's computer. "Ummm. . . .What is it you're expecting to hear?"
"This video!"
"The one on the screen?"
"Yes!"
"The one that says, 'Press "Play" to begin'?"
"Yes!"
"Here's a thought--PRESS PLAY!"
"'Play'?"
"Look, you know how you play a CD?"
"C. . .D?"
"8-track?"
"Oh, like a phonograph?"
"Exactly!"
Before we could make it back to our office and our rapidly cooling coffee, ANOTHER student grabbed us. "Mr. Solemnist?"
"Mrrrrrm?"
"I forgot my password for this program I'm supposed to use. Can you reset it for me?"
"Of course! It would be our pleasure!" We reset the lady's password and explained that, when she logged back in, she should leave the password field blank. She would then be asked to create a new password.
After scanning the area for additional interruptions and seeing none, we hurried back to the office, took a long pull of coffee and began to settle our nerves for the day ahead. A good ten minutes--TEN MINUTES--later, Password Girl came to our door. "It's still not working."
"It isn't?"
"It keeps asking me for a Password."
"Did you create a new password?"
"Create?"
"It's asking you to create a password. . . .To choose a password that you will use to access the program."
"Oh. So I need to create a password."
"Yes."
"Oh. . . . How do I do that?"
"You. . . You just. . . You choose. . . . Y'know what? CAT! Your password is CAT. Write it down! Tattoo it to the inside of your eyelid! Repeat it over and over and over again as you fall asleep and wake up every morning yelling 'CAT!' at the top of your lungs!"
"And. . . how do you spell that?"
Our office is located in a resource center at a community college--the place where students come to use computers, receive tutoring, and generally make the Solipsist's life miserable. This morning, the gentleman who manages the resource center was running late, which meant we were responsible for fixing any minor technical glitches that might arise. Thus, before we had even had a chance to sip our life-giving coffee, one of our tutors--a tutor!--came into our office with a problem.
"Solipsist, the copier isn't turned on."
"OK, it's not work-- Wait, what?"
"The copier isn't turned on."
"Um, OK."
"So, should I turn it on?"
"That sounds like a good idea."
"I just wanted to make sure. . . ."
"OK."
"I just don't want to break the printer."
"'Break the. . .'? How would you-- Do you want us to turn the printer on for you?"
"Well, I don't want to put you out."
"No, no! It would be our pleasure! Don't trouble yourself at all!"
We turned on the printer, at which point we were accosted by an instructor who had brought her class to use a computer classroom.
"Can you help me get started?"
"Umm. . .Sure." We went into the computer lab. "What seems to be the problem?
"I need to use an ESL program on the computer."
"OK. Do you know which program?"
"Yes, but I don't see it."
"That's because you haven't turned the computer on."
"Oh." We turned the computer on for her.
"OK, now, how do I run the program?"
"Do you know the name of the program?"
"Yes. It's ________."
"This one?"we asked, pointing at an icon.
"Yes."
"Click it."
She managed to click the icon and open the program without too much additional difficulty. Then. however, she became troubled. "But the students don't have headphones."
"Do they need headphones?"
"Well, I want to show them a video."
"OK. On the big screen at the front of the room?"
"Yes."
"There are speakers for that screen. They don't need headphones."
"They don't?"
"They don't."
"How will they be able to hear the sound?"
"Do you have a television at home?"
"What?"
"A television. Do you have one?"
"Yes."
"Do you need to wear headphones to hear it?"
"What?"
Urge to kill. . . rising. "Can you hear the noises coming out of the picture box without headphones."
"Yes."
"OK. Same principle here."
We left before we screamed, but, as we left the computer lab, a student came up to us. "Excuse me, Mr. . .Solenoid?"
"Close enough."
"I think the copier's broken."
"Hmm. . . . Why do we have a feeling it hasn't been turned on yet?"
"What?"
"Nothing." We turned the copier on. As we turned around, we came face to face with the aforementioned instructor." "ACK!"
"There's no sound coming out!"
"Really?" This actually sounded like an honest-to-God glitch! We went back into the computer lab. We went over to the volume control and cranked it to 11. Nothing. We were stymied. Then we looked at the instructor's computer. "Ummm. . . .What is it you're expecting to hear?"
"This video!"
"The one on the screen?"
"Yes!"
"The one that says, 'Press "Play" to begin'?"
"Yes!"
"Here's a thought--PRESS PLAY!"
"'Play'?"
"Look, you know how you play a CD?"
"C. . .D?"
"8-track?"
"Oh, like a phonograph?"
"Exactly!"
Before we could make it back to our office and our rapidly cooling coffee, ANOTHER student grabbed us. "Mr. Solemnist?"
"Mrrrrrm?"
"I forgot my password for this program I'm supposed to use. Can you reset it for me?"
"Of course! It would be our pleasure!" We reset the lady's password and explained that, when she logged back in, she should leave the password field blank. She would then be asked to create a new password.
After scanning the area for additional interruptions and seeing none, we hurried back to the office, took a long pull of coffee and began to settle our nerves for the day ahead. A good ten minutes--TEN MINUTES--later, Password Girl came to our door. "It's still not working."
"It isn't?"
"It keeps asking me for a Password."
"Did you create a new password?"
"Create?"
"It's asking you to create a password. . . .To choose a password that you will use to access the program."
"Oh. So I need to create a password."
"Yes."
"Oh. . . . How do I do that?"
"You. . . You just. . . You choose. . . . Y'know what? CAT! Your password is CAT. Write it down! Tattoo it to the inside of your eyelid! Repeat it over and over and over again as you fall asleep and wake up every morning yelling 'CAT!' at the top of your lungs!"
"And. . . how do you spell that?"
Monday, September 20, 2010
You Are What You Write
"We would appreciate your assistance in obtaining a future as one does not appear to be on our horizon." So reads a letter dropped in a collection box at a refugee camp in Haiti. Not long ago, the International Organization for Migration posted boxes at camps to enable residents to vent their displeasure and/or make anonymous complaints. While they expected perhaps a handful of letters, they have been surprised at the volume of responses.
The Solipsist was struck by the eloquence. The sentence above was one such example. We wonder whether the letter--presumably translated from French or Creole--was cleaned up in translation. At any rate, it impresses with its plaintive tone and imagery. Another letter reads, "I give glory to God that I am still alive--but I would like to stay that way!" Mordant wit lives in the refugee camps.
We constantly try to impress upon our students the power of the written word, the importance of clear communication. We tell our students that, when they write, they should always consider that these words, this piece of paper, will represent them to whoever reads it. When we read these letters--admittedly a small sample of a large and probably uneven collection--we feel the people behind the words. In a place where it would seem all too easy to become just another tiny anonymous victim, these letters speak to the humanity and individuality of suffering.
The Solipsist was struck by the eloquence. The sentence above was one such example. We wonder whether the letter--presumably translated from French or Creole--was cleaned up in translation. At any rate, it impresses with its plaintive tone and imagery. Another letter reads, "I give glory to God that I am still alive--but I would like to stay that way!" Mordant wit lives in the refugee camps.
We constantly try to impress upon our students the power of the written word, the importance of clear communication. We tell our students that, when they write, they should always consider that these words, this piece of paper, will represent them to whoever reads it. When we read these letters--admittedly a small sample of a large and probably uneven collection--we feel the people behind the words. In a place where it would seem all too easy to become just another tiny anonymous victim, these letters speak to the humanity and individuality of suffering.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
The Gauntlet Be Thrown!
Yarrrgh! 'Twere a fine Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day for the Jets of New Amsterdam as they throttled those scurvy dogs from New England. Cap'n Sanchez did lead his crew with the swagger and abandon ye'd expect from this son of the Caribbean (well, Mexico, but damn ye! 'tis all the same!). Now, our emerald-clad band o' buccaneers will embark down the coast to face off against those mosquitoes o' the sea, the Port o' Miami's own Dolphins.
We thus propose a modest wager with ACOS, a faithful worshipper of that very barnacled bunch of blackguards. When the Jets of New Amsterdam do finish their Floridian pillages, you, ACOS, will for one week fly the flag of the New York Jets from yer Facebook profile; further, ye will pay suitable tribute to your conquerors by posting as your status songs that will put us all in a New York State of Mind for the week. O' course, should the mini-Manatees o'Miami Beach somehow prevail, we will accept the same consequences.
What say ye, then, ACOS? Do ye accept our terms, or will ye run cowering for the shelter o' the Dry Tortugas? We await your reply!
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