September 2007


I have just been invited to GoodReads.com, a social networking site centered around books. On GoodReads you collect friends, profile titles “to read” or are “currently reading” and write reviews or form book clubs. They have an impressive search engine; here, for the first time I was able to find in one place all of the books in the African Writers Series. Most books can be purchased through Amazon. It does take energy to enter all the books you’d like to read or say you have read into your profile. I have a long-running (private) wishlist with half.com, so we’ll see if I find this any better.

In one sense, GoodReads.com is another entry in a trend where people reflect themselves or who they want to be through online profiles, in this case, the public self demonstates how literate you are. I’m not quite sure the point of seeing “what your friends are reading” as their tagline suggests. It seems inorganic–like a lot of work to do something relatively easy and natural. I’ve been a member of bookclubs for two years, and if I like or dislike a book, I will discuss it in a timely conversation with the right person, rather than putting my opinions out there just for the sake of it. But in this sense, its no different than blogging.

Maybe Goodreads will help people formulate their own opinions on books. In any event, its users will have to create a value that cannot be done offline. However I imagine something like GoodReads can be useful to teachers and students.

The first time I heard “outsize” used in a long time was in reference to the character of Pavarotti: Since then I swear I’ve heard this word used everyday somewhere or another.

9/23: Ms. Taro’s celebrity was short-lived but outsize.

9/16: His outsize list included a two-story Cape Cod cottage, a leaflet-bomb carousel, an old bar from a tavern, a vintage movie theater and various banged-up rolling stock (a trailer, a mobile home, a bus, a truck). Nine full-size shipping containers were requested.

9/9: his outsize confidence; his fund-raising powers;

9/7: His outsize personality remained a strong drawing card, and even his lifelong battle with his circumference guaranteed headlines:

Who’d've thought these people would have anything in common?

When I did a search, it appears the NY Times uses this word almost every day. Interesting! It didn’t appear that common to me.

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The other night I was looking through two books by photographer Jamel Shabazz, called Back in the Days and A Time Before Crack which depict life, mostly among youth culture, in New York’s “inner cities” during the late seventies and early 1980s. These books have been treasured for their clear, unaffected presentation of 70s and 80s style, their heartfelt depiction of love and community, and not to mention, Shabazz’s colorful portraiture and street photography. One thing I noticed in these books is that there appeared to be remarkably little obesity in young people as compared to what you would find today.

Food politics run deep for me, not just in terms of legislation, but in terms of the political nature of access to actual food opposed to “food products.” Artificial ingredients and food products are approved by the government and in general, they are widely available, but often the worst of this crappy, destructive stuff is only what’s available in “minority” neighborhoods. The time before crack was also the time before insane snack culture, frozen microwave meals, the super-boom of chain restaurants, lax parenting, and the end of the sit-down home-cooked family meal. It was also the time before high fructose corn syrup, preservative cocktails, and modified food starch. I’d say the eighties brought a different kind of crack, and its effects are still visible.

This summer I came home to a street fair in Washington Heights starting at 181st street and stretching as far as the eye could see. I was bothered, deeply bothered, to find most of the sponsors were major food companies, each with their own tent or truck, and all with food samples. Out of my all my years living in New York City, I’ve never seen a street fair sponsored by Act II microwave popcorn, Chef Boyardee, Hershey’s, and the Unilever family of products. And I’ve been to many street fairs. Some truly low-quality food was passed out, the worst offense by Unilever, who, in an attempt to land the Latino market, demonstrated how traditional Mexican dishes could be made with crappy massmarket ingredients.

As we know, the food problem in America is not isolated to minority groups and the working class. Earlier this year Slate magazine ran an article about Sysco, the food supply company that provides goods for “nearly 400,000 American eating establishments, from fast-food joints like Wendy’s, to five-star eating establishments like Robert Redford’s Tree Room Restaurant, to mom-and-pop diners like the Chatterbox Drive-In, to ethnic restaurants like Meskerem Ethiopian restaurant. . .” Notes Slate, “While chefs have long relied on shortcuts like freezing and using canned goods like beans and tomatoes, it’s entirely different to pass off one of Sysco’s thousands of ready-made items—ground beef burritos, vegan tortellini, quiche Lorraine pie, tiramisu cake—as homemade.” However, Sysco is not mining for dollars. I can’t help but find myself angry by the state of affairs. The effects of contemporary chemical diets appear worse than those of soul food.

I am happy to meet others who are interested in bringing about positive, radical shifts in eating, through education, destroying the legality of dangerous ingredients, and by democratizing good food. Hopefully, the street photography of that new era will brightly depict young people who look and feel healthier than ever.

I don’t know how it started, but no older than six or seven years of age, my sister and I began a what became a long-standing joke about Marcel Marceau. He became one of our strange, witty, inside references as a result of our early exposure to public television. The culmination of this joke came in 2003, when we took the opportunity to see the mime perform at George Street Playhouse, near Rutgers, where my sister was attending, as a stop on his final world tour. Much isn’t thought of the art of miming, but reading this quote led me to share that it’s more than just a series parlor tricks into the imaginary. Like a musician or a photographer, Marceau saw his craft as a venue to speak without words:

For Marceau, mime had a philosophical and political level.

One of his most famous sketches was “The Cage,” in which he struggled to escape through an invisible ring of barriers, only to find that one cage succeeds another and there is no escape.

In Czechoslovakia before the Soviet-led invasion of 1968, he recalled that audiences understood it as an allegory about capitalism. After the invasion, they saw in it an image of themselves under Russian domination.

“I am a progressive, a man who deals for peace, and who has struggled for enlightenment in the world. I am not just an entertainer,” he said.

“I want to be a man who will represent as an active witness my time, and who wants to say, without words, my feelings about the world.”

Rest in Peace!

edited to include:George Street Playhouse

Journalism has been scant and incomplete, and media coverage has been limited. Notwithstanding, this is a case that invokes history and will be remembered for our time.

For information on the Jena 6 story, I recommend

Facts and Figures, NAACP, September 20th, 2007

Washington Post article, August 4th, 2007

Democracy Now transcript, July 10, 2007

TO HELP: WWW.JENASIX.ORG

The New York Times published a great article today that reviews the 1987 publication of Allan Bloom’s The Closing of the American Mind, the book whose role was central to “The Canon Wars”, a fiery debate between the importance of the Western canon versus Multiculturalism in university core curriculums. The book argues that the decline of the Western canon has led to an American public who has lacks basic information and by pandering to feminists and members of minorities, the rigor of academic life has waned.

Funny enough, last night I finished the novel Silas Marner by British writer George Eliot (nee Mary Ann Evans), a fantastic, slim, classic published in 1861. I bought this book back in 1998 because I vaguely recalled having heard it included on some sort of “must read” lists for high school students that I consulted once and eventually disregarded. (Every now and then, though, I make it a point to I read a few classics based on my memory of the contents of this list.) In fact, my copy of Silas Marner was used through and through, I can tell from the notes in the pages it had been used at one point by a student.

The only book I recall on that “must read” list that involved any member of a minority was To Kill a Mockingbird, but my have things changed. I googled Silas Marner and could hardly find it anywhere among the published reading lists for high school or college students.

A counterpoint to the Canon war follows that the canon of Western authors excludes members of minority groups, women, and homosexuals, and that this exclusion is oppressive. In the end, the Multiculturalists won and new authors have been included in high school and college reading lists since the late 1980s. How does this work? The Times cites “reading lists are a zero-sum game: for every writer added, another is dropped.”

“In 1965, the authors most frequently assigned in English classes were Shakespeare, Milton, Chaucer, Dryden, Pope and T. S. Eliot, according to a survey by the National Association of Scholars, an organization committed to preserving “the Western intellectual heritage.” In 1998, they were Shakespeare, Chaucer, Jane Austen, Milton, Virginia Woolf and Toni Morrison.”

Today, the canon argument considers at its core what should be the nature of an educational experience: should it condition a person to address their own environment or open up the mind and liberate one’s thinking by the introduction of foreign people and histories? Nationwide high school reading lists have altered to the fact that kids want to read stories they can “relate to” meaning, that easily reflect their expectations and experiences.

Race, gender, and sexuality aside, if young people want to read texts that reflect themselves, the biggest problem might be that most books long-considered part of the canon were published over one-hundred years ago. Another issue is that few were written in America. In the article, Mark Lilla, a professor of political philosophy and religion, defends the new curriculums, stating “When you read Toni Morrison, there’s no alienation. It affirms your Americanism.”

Not necessarily so. “Americanism” can be interpreted through many substrains. Some would champion the inclusion of Morrison as an American writer, others may just as easily rebuff, citing alienation because her subjects are black. And in one hundred years, I suppose her work will be too “old” to read. But do these things really matter? Shouldn’t a person learn to appreciate a book regardless of these details? Maybe this is the attitude I have had adopted as a person of color in America-you learn to interpret universality through narratives that were not written for you. After all, for having been written by an old, dead, white woman, Silas Marner was a great book.

It’s tricky: with a masters degree in Africana Studies, I am in very much in favor of multiculturalism, but not in favor of the zero-sum tactics to deny older classic literature. Academics must decide what information is necessary for the times we are living in. However, a person cannot understand these times without a context of the habits and values of the past-including past curriculums.

Personally I believe there is something to this statement:

As Alan Wolfe puts it, “Everyone’s read ‘Things Fall Apart’ ” — Chinua Achebe’s novel about postcolonial Nigeria — “but few people have read the Yeats poem that the title comes from.”

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In 2006 I attended the Bosnian-Herzegovinian Film Festival at Anthology Film Archives, where I saw two films, Counterpoint for Her, and A Dream Job, both by filmmaker Danijela Majstorovic. Soon after, I decided to track her down for an interview, which was published by Pop Matters for their new film blog “Short Ends and Leader” on Sept. 20 of last year. See here. Both films address the lives of women and their lack of choices for economic freedom and actualization-Counterpoint for Her explores the traffick of women for sexual slavery, A Dream Job follows young women as they strive for pop-stardom in the world of Turbofolk music, which is sometimes negatively associated with inanity, RTV Pink, and the Milosevic era. I recommend both films and look forward to viewing more cinema coming from this region.

I am happy to find out the article was mentioned in Pop Matters’ “Best Of!”

To learn more about the Bosnian-Herzegovinian Film Festival, see http://www.bhffnyc.org/.