Mary the Modest was met in the lane By Someone or Something she couldn’t explain. Joseph the Honest looked up and God’s eye Was winking at him through a hole in the sky.
One of several comical rejected stanzas from Auden’s long poem For the Time Being — but if you want to see the others you’ll have to buy my critical edition of the poem, available in May at fine bookstores everywhere.
Portrety, 1922, from Russian Literature and Works on Paper
The Construction of Architectural and Machine Forms, 1931, Chernikov, from Russian Literature and Works on Paper
A page from the Odyssey, as printed by Aldus Manutius in Venice, courtesy of Sarah Werner. Amazing how beautiful Aldus’s books still are: those elegant typefaces, those thoughtful and serene layouts….
The phrase that came to mind when I first saw the indictment against Swartz was Alexander Pope’s famous rhetorical question: “Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?” It would be possible to write off the Swartz prosecution (as some have done) as the action of a politically ambitious attorney general, but actually it fits a much more sinister pattern. It was clear that a decision had been made to make an example of this cheeky young hacker and in that sense this grotesque prosecution sits neatly alongside the treatment of Corporal Bradley Manning, not to mention the hysterical reaction of the US authorities to WikiLeaks.What has happened, in fact, is that governments which since 9/11 have presided over the morphing of their democracies into national security states have realised that the internet represents a truly radical challenge to their authority, and they are absolutely determined to control it. They don’t declare this as their intention, of course, but instead talk up “grave” threats – cybercrime, piracy and (of course) child pornography – as rationales for their action. But, in the end, this is now all about control. And if a few eggheads and hackers get crushed on the way well, that’s too bad. RIP Aaron.
At the end of the 19th century, the French Army emerged as the leading proponent of the slouchy, somewhat slovenly “bent-knee” method of long-marching. The gait was modeled after infants learning to walk, with knees angled and the body pitching slightly forward. The idea was that, by leaning in the direction of travel, gravity would pull you along and make it easier to cover vast distances with less energy. In its way, the French army walk looked as silly and unnatural as the goose step.The debate over walking styles spilled over into civilian circles in the early years of the last century, when long-distance walking enjoyed a brief mania. “The correct step may be learned in the drawing room,” instructed one 1903 British manual. “There is no difficulty about it. It may be tried now.” The book was comprehensively entitled, How to Walk, Describing the Whole Art of Training Without a Trainer. Full Instructions and Hints for Those who Intend Entering Walking Contests Either for Short Or Long Distances, and a Special Chapter on Walking for Women.
An article in the New York Times in 1908 pondered a walking question, asking “Is our method of walking correct or incorrect?” The story rehashed the debate over the straight-leg vs. bent-knee style. At the reporter’s request, a “famous wrestler” tried the bent-knee gait across the lobby of a hotel. He “was quite disgusted at the result,” it was reported.
Still, the Times writer himself was well-disposed toward the French Army style, noting that “they hold all sorts of record for long-distance marching.” But he warned readers to use it only in the proper context. “No man who walks less than three miles a day need worry about bending his knees,” he wrote, adding, “it would not do in cities. It is against all our aesthetic and social principals. Why, if a man went about New York with bent knees he would look like an ape.”
Duane Allman was a great genius. That’s all I really want to say.