In March 2006, I finished reading Seinfeld and Philosophy. This book is terrible. Don’t read it. There are a few interesting points and a few interesting insights, but none of the essays in this book add up to anything interesting. A few essays (most notably, the one on “The Costanza Maneuver”) get so caught up in semantics that any actual meaning gets lost along the way. It seems, however, that most of the reviewers on Amazon.com would disagree. These reviewers don’t know what they’re talking about.
Oh, how I love The Simpsons. I’m going to see the movie tonight, despite that I feel destined for disappointment. Will it be all a Simpsons movie could be? Probably not.
But any way…
What I really like about The Simpsons is it’s irreverence towards… everything. One of my favorite moments is this song, sung my Mr. Burns:
I especially like their religious humor as well:
<[>My favorite character is, by far, Homer. His idiocy, naivety, and bravery are endearing and make for the best commentary. In this video, my favorite Homer quote begins at six seconds in:
Perhaps my favorite Simpsons quote ever, however, comes from Lisa: “I refuse to believe, that everybody refuses to believe, the truth!”
Sorry, I couldn’t find a video of Lisa’s quote. Instead, I leave you with Ralph:
Recently I began reading the Steve Pavlina blog after a friend recommended it.
Today I came across an article on how to create a personal productivity scaffold. What a great idea! After reading the article, I have implemented one myself as a way of keeping up with my accounting books which are always lagging behind. First, of course, I have to get caught up!
I’ve also gone ahead and created a monthly self-appointment to evaluate any potential scaffolds for the month to come.
I was browsing around Project Gutenberg today and came across a 1910 translation of The Art of War by Sun Tzu, translated by Lionel Giles. It turned out to be the same translation I was first exposed to.
I remember my stepsister buying a very old copy for herself at a used book store in Key West. I’d heard of the book (who hasn’t?), but this was the first time I had actually had my hands on a copy. I read the first two pages in the parking lot and subsequently resigned myself to read as much as possible on the ride home, even if it made me motion sick.
This particular translation begins with the legend of Sun Tzu’s rise to the rank of General and follows with a lengthy, some-times-interesting/some-times-boring discussion of the main text’s history. The legend of Sun Tzu’s rise, which involves beheading the king’s two favorite concubines (much to the dismay of the king), stuck with me for years. At first the story seems simple, but there are many subtle lessons in it that are likely to be missed on the first reading. It was worth the motion sickness.
I am very happy to have rediscovered the Lionel Giles translation. I spent some time today reading the introduction once again, and came across a passage in critique of Confucianism that I thought was especially relevant to the War on Terror and it’s prominence in the debates for next year’s elections:
“Military weapons are the means used by the Sage to punish violence and cruelty, to give peace to troublous times, to remove difficulties and dangers, and to succor those who are in peril. Every animal with blood in its veins and horns on its head will fight when it is attacked. How much more so will man, who carries in his breast the faculties of love and hatred, joy and anger! When he is pleased, a feeling of affection springs up within him; when angry, his poisoned sting is brought into play. That is the natural law which governs his being…. What then shall be said of those scholars of our time, blind to all great issues, and without any appreciation of relative values, who can only bark out their stale formulas about ‘virtue’ and ‘civilization,’ condemning the use of military weapons? They will surely bring our country to impotence and dishonor and the loss of her rightful heritage; or, at the very least, they will bring about invasion and rebellion, sacrifice of territory and general enfeeblement. Yet they obstinately refuse to modify the position they have taken up. The truth is that, just as in the family the teacher must not spare the rod, and punishments cannot be dispensed with in the State, so military chastisement can never be allowed to fall into abeyance in the Empire. All one can say is that this power will be exercised wisely by some, foolishly by others, and that among those who bear arms some will be loyal and others rebellious.” –Ssu-ma Ch`ien, (91 B.C.E.)
I finished Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer about two weeks ago. This was a disturbing book that covers a history of Mormon fundamentalism as a background to the murder of Brenda Lafferty and her daughter Erica by her brothers-in-law, Ron and Dan Lafferty.
I wasn't as enthusiastic about Under the Banner of Heaven as Krakauer's other books. It was an excellent and effective book, but it was depressing in a way that made me recall a lot of my teenage angst. Given recent events in my life, this wasn't necessarily a good timing.
Perhaps the most fascinating thing I learned from this book is the early Mormon emphasis on communicating directly with God. In the many religious debates I've been in, it often comes up that I've never had a "religious experience" – at least not a "real" one. If I had, it is argued, I would have the same beliefs as my partner in conversation. Under the Banner of Heaven is a good illustration of how arbitrary these experiences can be.
I would recommend this book to anyone who considers themselves more religious than most, no matter what your religion.