Finished reading: The Dark Bible: Cultures of Interpretation in Early Modern England by Alison Knight. A fascinating book, about which I hope to write when life is less crazy. 📚
Apple calls this OS version Tahoe because Lake Tahoe is on the Nevada border and you’re basically gambling with your computing life when you use this OS.
Just got my new Mac Mini, and, since it has Tahoe installed, I had to “upgrade” my MacBook to Tahoe in order to use Migration Assistant. I now have two shockingly buggy Macs. I’m on the newest version, and can’t quite believe how little Apple has done to fix bugs that have been reported since Tahoe came out.
I have a new piece at the Dispatch on the best writer about the Second World War, A. J. Liebling. I am told that if you use the promo code JACOBS at checkout, you’ll get 15% off a Dispatch membership.
We’ve tried over Christian history, in all sorts of ways and contexts, to imitate other kinds of militancy. And my feeling about that is: well that worked, didn’t it! I want to ask: how does Christ change things? One thing I think you can be fairly sure about in the New Testament is that he doesn’t use the techniques of available power systems. ‘This is how the kings of the gentiles work.’ What we do in our militancy for the faith, that is our committed and courageous attempt to witness to what we’ve been given and make it available to others, we do by lives of holiness — which means an awful lot of hard work for the vast majority of us who are nowhere near that level and who resort to shortcuts all the time.
My endorsement of this — and of his comments on the demonic in political life — is absolute.
The funny thing about Matt Taibbi's summary of Samuel Moyn’s new book — “Old People Suck and We Should Take Their Stuff" — is that it's 100% accurate. That is precisely what Moyn argues.
Looking at a painting is a welcome respite from scanning a screen. In that sense, this exercise is reactive: I labor in the small cottage industry of attention that has sprouted up in the cracks of the massive complex of distraction all around us. A phenomenological turn often occurs at times of intensive mediation, but the point is not simply to have our perceptions mirrored back to us. T. J. Clark has put the aim nicely: “When I am in front of a picture the thing I most want is to enter the picture’s world: it is the possibility of doing so that makes pictures worth looking at for me.” To look at a painting is also to exit our world for a while, and then to return to it cast in a different — distant — light. The time travel is often wonderful, and almost free.