If Robin doesn’t like this, I’ll eat my hat.
That animated movie we’ve been talking about all month is available online. (Thanks, Waxy.)
So says Joseph Stiglitz on CNN: “The stock market is not a good metric here… If we give money to the banks, the stocks will go up. That’s not what we’re concerned about.”
As Peter Dreier at TPM Cafe says, “the reliance by TV and radio newscasters, newspaper reporters and columnists, and quick-with-a-conclusion pundits on the stock market to assess the merits of a policy prescription, or even the health of the economy, is incredibly misleading.”
Now, normally, what’s good for the economy is good for Wall Street. Shareholders place bets on the economic future of their companies. If companies look like they’ll do well, the stock goes up. On aggregate, a rising stock market suggests that a lot of companies will do well, and ditto the overall economy.
But it’s an index, not a picture. Let’s take a situation where what’s good for the economic health of the nation involves, or even MAY involve, forcing shareholders to take losses. Now shareholders’ interests are in conflict with good economic policy. In fact, in this case, the BETTER the policy is, the worse shareholders are likely to view it.
The banks, in this case, are like Allen Iverson. Normally, you want this guy on your team — if he plays really well, your team plays well. Now let’s say he’s got a gimpy knee, but he can still shoot. Let’s say you’ve got a lame fantasy draft that only ranks players by points scored. If you’ve got Allen Iverson in your fantasy draft, you want him to play, and you want him to chuck up as many baskets as possible to get his PPG high, at least until they can swap him off to somebody else before he REALLY gets hurt.
But if you’re coaching the team, you want to sit him down on the bench or put him into rehab until he’s ready to play again. Nobody would say that the fantasy draft players in this case have the team’s — or the game’s — interest at heart,
I can’t tell you how many times I used to turn on the news to see that Iverson scored forty, but the Sixers lost. Who cares? I just want the game to be good again.
A little late, but I just saw this little delightful slice of pop:
So long as we’re talking about classic literature morphing into monster movies, let’s take a moment to look at Dante’s Inferno, a new video game, um, loosely based on The Divine Comedy:
EA’s take still features Dante as the protagonist, but the poet-philosopher is now a hulking veteran of the Crusades. He returns home from war to find Beatrice, the subject of his love and admiration, murdered. When her soul is “kidnapped” by Lucifer himself, Dante dives down to the very depths of hell, armed with Death’s scythe, to win her back…
Dante’s Inferno stands in a rather awkward place. The source material is a treasured piece of culture, yes, but it’s far less likely to incite fanboy wrath than would a videogame adaptation of a contemporary movie or comic book series. Liberal arts majors might be shocked to find Dante morphed into a hypermasculine action hero. Other people won’t care…
On the bright side, the story behind Dante’s Inferno was pretty much fleshed out back in the 14th century, detailing hell’s nine levels and many of the potential boss characters, so the development team likely just needs to fill in the blanks.
Look, classics get adapted, translated, bowdlerized all the time. But it’s important to remember that in popular culture, people don’t remember the original — they remember the bowdlerization. I bet in a few years, we’ll start to see college students who “know” that Inferno is about Dante rescuing Beatrice from Hell.
All the same, if they get the centaurs and the lake of boiling blood right, I am there. And who knows? Maybe some of the kids might even learn what “simony” means.
One of my favorite people, um, ever is Charles Olson — poet, amateur anthropologist, rector of Black Mountain College back when BMC was quite possibly the coolest place to be in the country. (Olson reportedly said, “I need a college to think with” — something that I often feel myself whenever I take a stab at thinking about the New Liberal Arts.)
Olson’s essay/manifesto “Projective Verse” helped build the bridge between modernist and postmodern literature — in fact, Olson’s sometimes given credit for helping formulate the whole idea of the postmodern.
One of Olson’s most important contributions to American letters is his book Call Me Ishmael, a wonderful, idiosyncratic but authoritative critical take on Herman Melville and Moby Dick. Here, for example, are the first few sentences:
I take SPACE to be the central fact to man born in America, from Folsom cave to now. I spell it large because it comes large here. Large, and without mercy.
Olson himself was a giant — 6’8″ — and knew a thing or two about spelling things large. (If you want to read more, I highly recommend picking up Olson’s Collected Prose — it’s all really, really good.)
Now the University of Connecticut is digitizing Olson’s notes on Melville — which would be cool in its own right, but 100% cooler insofar as Olson’s notes bring back a world that doesn’t exist anymore:
Olson was one of the first scholars to consider the importance of Melville’s reading and marginalia.
In the 1930s, Melville’s surviving literary manuscripts, letters, personal papers and journals, and reading library were still, for the most part, in the possession of the family and a few institutional or private collectors. The most substantial collection of Melville materials unaccounted for at that point
Farhad Manjoo on the Web, c. 1996:
In 1996, Americans with Internet access spent fewer than 30 minutes a month surfing the Web, according to Steve Coffey, who’s now the chief research officer of the market research firm the NPD Group. (Today, we spend about 27 hours a month online, according to Nielsen.)…
The biggest site, by far, was AOL.com; 41 percent of people online checked it regularly. Many didn’t do so on purpose: With 5 million subscribers, AOL was the world’s largest ISP, and when members loaded up the Web, they went to the company’s site by default. For similar reasons, AOL’s search engine, WebCrawler.com, was the second most popular page. Netscape, the Web’s most popular browser, and Compuserve and Prodigy, the nation’s other big ISPs, also had top pages.
Yahoo, which Media Metrix ranked No. 4, just after Netscape, was one of the few sites in the Top 10 that wasn’t affiliated with an ISP or a browser. Its main feature was its directory, a constantly updated listing of thousands of sites online. To produce the directory, Yahoo employees
Nate Silver, the web’s Statistician Laureate*, created a statistical model to predict the winners of the six major Oscar categories. He got four out of six right, missing Pen
Oh, man — Lifehacker has a powerful strategy for home office clutter. The principle is, don’t add more shelves to organize your stuff or spaces to put it in — they’ll just fill up with more junk, like cars and highway lanes in Atlanta. Instead, eliminate physical matter wherever you can, by scanning and shredding your files. Then, you must prebind yourself into a limited, manageable, securable amount of space. You must move your workspace into the closet.
Attentive Snarkmarket readers may know that this is where it gets interesting.
You see, one of the Snarkmasters already has a workspace in his closet, and while not an exact copy, it actually looks a whole lot like that very elegant picture above. And sometimes we joke about the whole “office in a closet” idea.
Another Snarkmaster, who lives in a city that, while not cheap, offers a whole lot more square feet for the money than the locale of SM#1, has a whole library in his apartment, filled with bookshelves and comfy chairs and file cabinets. But it’s also full of empty boxes, piles of books and papers, strollers and baby toys, the occasional laundry basket full of clothes, old card catalogues that are really cool-looking but that he hasn’t figured out what to do with, and these super-beautiful pocket doors that he uses to just close up the whole mess while he taps away on his laptop in the dining room.
The point is, one of these methods has achieved a kind of zen simplicity. The other may very well offer its own path to enlightenment, but it’s going to require a lot of digging to come out on the other end. So, to you, sir, kudos.