Eldest went into the archive on The Facebook today. 1993. Blessed then. Blessed now.
Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
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Post Malone
Dude makes music. Haven’t I aged out of hippity hop by now? Hell no. If I make it to 66, 76, 86, or 96, I will still be rocking the hippity when I’m bench pressing the 45lb. bar.
For the uninitiated, give these three tracks a whirl:
White Iverson
“When I started ballin’ I was young
You gon’ think about me when I’m gone
I need that money like the ring I never won, I wonSaucin’, saucin’, I’m saucin’ on you
I’m swaggin’, I’m swaggin’, I’m swaggin’ oh ooh
I’m ballin’, I’m ballin’, Iverson on you
Watch out, watch out, watch out, yeah
That’s my shot, that’s my shot, that’s my shot, yeah
Spendin’, I’m spendin’ all my fuckin’ pay”
And of course. . .
“Fuck practice, this shit just happens, know y’all can’t stand it
I have it, I’ll never pass it, I work my magic”
I’m working on a parallel track. White Bird.
Congratulations!
“My mama called, seen you on TV, son
Said shit done changed ever since we was on
I dreamed it all ever since I was young
They said I wouldn’t be nothing
Now they always say congratulations
Worked so hard, forgot how to vacation
They ain’t never had the dedication”
Forgot how to vacation. Reminds me of me.
Up There
“I wanna go up there and I don’t ever wanna come down
I wanna see what’s up there, actin’ like I got it all figured out
I wanna go up there and I don’t ever wanna come down
I wanna see what’s up there, must be better than the hell on the ground”
The Trump administration getting to him too.
Friday Assorted Links
1. No rules recess. “Parents don’t tend to sue schools.”
2. In Fight Over Science Education in Idaho, Lawmakers Move to Minimize Climate.
Today’s science lesson—apparently, there are lots of invertebrates in the Idaho state legislature.
3. What $1.4m buys you in London.
4. Has a Civil Rights Stalwart Lost Its Way?
“William Jacobson, a law professor at Cornell and critic of the SPLC, says the group has wrapped itself in the mantle of the civil rights struggle to engage in partisan political crusading. “Time and again, I see the SPLC using the reputation it gained decades ago fighting the Klan as a tool to bludgeon mainstream politically conservative opponents,” he says. “For groups that do not threaten violence, the use of SPLC ‘hate group’ or ‘extremist’ designations frequently are exploited as an excuse to silence speech and speakers,” Jacobson adds. ‘It taints not only the group or person, but others who associate with them.'”
Four Things I Love
1. Dedicated bike lanes like in Victoria, British Columbia.
2-4.
In Praise of Treason
Conscience Has No Color
A flag in Vermont reminds us conscience has no color
Originally published February 4, 2018 by Leonard Pitts Jr., Syndicated columnist.
What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.
Except it’s not really failure. It’s actually unwillingness to communicate, fear of what communication might mean. After all, if you communicate, you might understand some painful truths — and then where would you be?
That’s why discussing race with a white person is often one of the most vexing things an African-American person can do. You quickly come to understand that understanding is the last thing they want.
Take “Black Lives Matter.” Those words, if you are black, are both an assertion of self-evident truth and a way of saying you are sick of unarmed people like you being killed under color of authority while juries and judges shrug and look away.
That message would seem to be clear as mountain air, which, for many white Americans, is precisely what’s wrong with it. So they do everything they can not to comprehend.
They pretend confusion: “Black lives matter? Don’t all lives matter? Are you saying black lives are more important?”
They rationalize: “It’s not the cop’s fault. If the man had stopped moving/talking/breathing hard, he wouldn’t have been shot!”
They feign outrage: “Black Lives Matter is an anti-police terrorist group. They’re the black Ku Klux Klan.”
At some point, you begin wondering if the words you hear in your head are coming out in English. How is it you’re both speaking the same language, but you’re doing such a miserable job of being understood?
It’s a frustrating, exhausting experience. If you’ve ever had it, you’ll likely be touched by a recent story out of Vermont. It seems that, with the unanimous support of the school board, the Racial Justice Alliance, a student-led anti-racism group at Montpelier High, is commemorating Black History Month by flying a flag on campus. A flag that says, “Black Lives Matter.”
Lord, have mercy. Just when you think you’ve seen it all.
It’s stunning, you see, because there are no black people in Vermont.
OK, so that’s not quite true. There are some, but so few — 1.3 percent out of a population of 623,000 — that Vermont didn’t muster its first NAACP chapter until 2015. For the record, the student who founded the Racial Justice Alliance is a black senior named Joelyn Mensah. Still, we’re talking about one of the whitest states in the Union. So this flag flying at one of its schools is no small thing.
Not that everyone is pleased. State lawmaker Thomas Terenzini — you’ll be shocked to learn that he’s a Republican — told the local NBC affiliate that Black Lives Matter is “a national anti-police organization.”
That isn’t surprising. But the moral courage of these students and administrators is, pleasantly so.
We are indebted to them for a message that couldn’t be more timely. As appeals to our lowest selves flow down like sewage from the nation’s capital, they remind us that conscience has no color. It is a point proven in the past by white people like Elijah Lovejoy, William Lloyd Garrison, Andrew Goodman, James Zwerg, Joan Trumpauer Mulholland and Viola Liuzzo who fought — and sometimes died — for black freedom.
One hopes white people of today will take note. And black ones, too.
Because, for as much as that flag flying in that place speaks to the broad sweep of conscience, it also rebukes excesses of cynicism, shows what can still happen just when you think you’ve seen it all. To be black talking to white people about race is never easy. You’ll be frequently frustrated, often exhausted. But once in a while, you will also be something you never expected:
Heard.
Facing Anxiety
A short video from the Chronicle of Higher Education, in which students share how they cope with anxiety and how campuses can help.
Saturday Assorted Links
1. Lasers Reveal a Maya Civilization So Dense It Blew Experts’ Minds.
“Not far from the sites tourists already know, like the towering temples of the ancient city of Tikal, laser technology has uncovered about 60,000 homes, palaces, tombs and even highways in the humid lowlands.
The findings suggested an ancient society of such density and interconnectedness that even the most experienced archaeologists were surprised.”
Decidedly not a shithole civilization.
“The total population at that time was once estimated to be a few million. . . . But in light of the new lidar data, she said it could now be closer to 10 million.
‘To have such a large number of people living at such a high level for such a long period of time, it really proves the fact that these people were highly developed, and also quite environmentally conscientious.'”
Absent the United Fruit Company and the CIA, the Mayans’ ancestors would be a lot better off today.
2. First Do No Harm, Health Care Waste in Washington State.
3. The shocking thing about D.C.’s schools scandal — and why it has national significance.
“. . . schools were essentially juicing the books to make it seem like they were graduating more students. Scams included phony “credit recovery” programs, failing to count all students, and, as the District just found out, letting kids graduate without the qualifications required for a diploma.”
And on Michelle Rhee, the darling of right wing business mad “reformers”:
“. . . the produce-or-else testing culture that she fostered — tying portions of some evaluations to growth in scores and securing commitments from principals to hit numerical targets — created a climate of fear, in the view of many school employees.
It also coincided with evidence of cheating on annual city tests.
A climate of fear in a school has never been known to produce much of anything useful.”
4. Ethiopia’s regime flirts with letting dissidents speak without locking them up. Incremental progress.
5. Letter of Recommendation: Rodney Dangerfield.
“Imagine having no talent. Imagine being no good at all at something and doing it anyway.”
6. How Building Codes & Taxes Shape Regional Architecture.
“Ever noticed how the bricks on newer British buildings are bigger, or stopped to appreciate hand-stenciled wallpaper, or enjoyed a sip from a fancy hollow-stemmed glass? If so, you may well be admiring a product of regulation and taxes as much aesthetic tastes. From basic materials to entire architectural styles, building codes and taxation strategies have had huge historical impacts on the built world as we know it.”
Add that to the ever burgeoning list of things I did not know. I’m sure DAByrnes did though.
“Dutch canal houses are another classic example of how rules and regulations can shape structures. Taxed on their canal frontage rather than height or depth, these buildings grew in tall and thin. In turn, this typology evolved narrower staircases, necessitating exterior hoist systems to move furniture and goods into and out of upper floors.”
Passing on the Super Bowl. . . Again
During last year’s Super Bowl, the Good Wife and I had friends over for dinner. An enjoyable, television-free evening, one guest peaked at her phone late in the game. Despite learning a historic comeback/collapse was underway, we still weren’t motivated enough to turn on the game. I didn’t see a single play.
It helped that I didn’t care about either team, but like a lot of people apparently, I’m watching far, far less football than in years past. Of course, I’m still weaning myself from UCLA football. That’s been made easier by my team’s apparent decision to quit tackling, which looking at the data, makes sense.
Before you watch this year’s game, read “I’m the Wife of a Former NFL Player. Football Destroyed His Mind,” by Emily Kelly. About her husband, Rob.
“Over time, I had started to notice changes. But this was different. And things became increasingly frightening.
He lost weight. It seemed like one day, out of the blue, he stopped being hungry. And often he would forget to eat. I’d find full bowls of cereal forgotten around the house, on bookshelves or the fireplace mantel. The more friends and family commented on his gaunt frame, the more panicked I became. By 2016, he had shrunk to 157 pounds. That’s right, my 6-foot-2 football-player husband weighed 157 pounds (down from around 200 when he was in the N.F.L.). People were visibly shocked when we told them he had played the game professionally.
Besides damage resulting from football-related concussions, my husband has never had a diagnosed brain injury. He’s never been in a car accident or fallen off a roof. He never did steroids and, after struggling with alcohol abuse for about six years, off and on, after retirement, hasn’t had a drink in eight years. And he’s only 43.”
And:
“He went from being a devoted and loving father and husband to someone who felt like a ghost in our home. For a couple of months one winter he was so depressed and detached, he couldn’t muster up the energy to speak. My questions went unanswered until I simply stopped asking them. The silence was unnerving.”
Lastly:
“After years of little to no sleep, he alternated between sleeping either three hours a night or 20. I’d wake up to find every blind and curtain in the house closed and Rob sitting on the sofa with a blank expression on his face. He no longer felt comfortable driving, refused to leave the house and cut off contact with everyone.
Specific details about how he wanted his funeral to be, and his demand that he be cremated, were brought up with excruciating frequency. One particularly dark time, he went five days without eating anything; he drank only water and a few swigs of chocolate milk. He was suffering deeply and barely surviving. My love and affection seemed to offer no comfort or solace. I felt helpless.”
Winter has taken a toll. This Sunday evening, I think it’s high time to squeegee and sweep the garage floor.
Caption This
Pressing Pause 