Acephalous
"Some modern travellers still pretend to find Acephalous people in America."
Ephraim Chambers,
Cyclopædia; or, an universal dictionary of arts and sciences
, 1753
Home
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
Eight years' worth of a thousand words
Give it up already, Mr. President. Even
Kissinger
is cringing.
Aug 13, 2008 2:26:13 PM
|
Politics
NEXT POST
What it's like to Write a Dissertation
(A repost mired in optimism but apropos of nothing.) In "On Sad and Joyful Passions of Academia," Anthony Paul Smith writes: I get that people are unhappy with their advisors, with the lack of support from the university, and from the seeming glacial pace of publishing ... But the complaints, especially from those fully funded at institutions I would imagine are very exciting, foster a different sad passion within me. They even foster a kind of resentment that they have been given this opportunity while I have to scratch out a future ... yet they seem to enjoy nothing about academic work. The best way to talk about academic work is baseball. This goes without saying. I played third base and shortstop. I played them well. I had sure hands and quick feet. When the ball screamed off the bat, there was no time to think. There was only time to react. Move the quick feet. Catch with sure hands. Throw the ball. In between pitches, I would look to the man to my left to make sure we knew our assignments. Then the ball would leave the pitcher's hand. Then the batter would swing. Move the quick feet. Catch with sure hands. Throw the ball. In the infield I felt like part of a team. I could look to my left and catch the second baseman's eye. I could look across the diamond and catch the first baseman's eye. I was a player among players. We all knew how to react and how to react together. Then one year my coach wanted me to play center field. Being a team player, I consented. I'd shagged flies during practice, and was better than most at going back on a ball. So why not? I left the dugout and jogged past my teammates. Then I kept jogging until my teammates looked like toy soldiers. I stood there. I was still playing baseball. Only alone. Three hundred and ninety feet from home plate. Two hundred feet from anybody else. Short screaming or semaphore, I couldn't catch anyone's attention. I was alone. See home plate in the shot above? No? Click on the picture to enlarge it. See it now? Focus your attention on the tiny white dot near dead center. There's another to its right. Either will work. Zoom in on them. Those tiny dots are twice the size of a man's head. Now imagine something an eighth that size come shooting from the crowd. You track the ball. You run intuitive quadratic models. You run where you think it will land. You compensate for drag. The wind blows it to the left. You run intuitive quadratic models. You compensate for drag. Or the right. You run intuitive quadratic models. You compensate for drag. Or further behind you. You run intuitive quadratic models. You compensate for drag. You adjust course. You adjust speed. All the while you track the ball. All the while you calculate. The ball hangs in the air for...
PREVIOUS POST
Some times I feel sorry for the high school coach who cut Michael Jordan from the JV squad because, quote, "He would never cut it on varsity."
Others, I laugh at anonymous reviewers of such limited imagination their predictions have become Monuments of Wrongness. To wit:
Scott Eric Kaufman
1
Following
107
Followers
Search
Become a Fan
My Other Accounts
Facebook
|
scotterickaufman
Twitter
|
scottekaufman
Recent Comments
Drmabuse:
Perhaps the biggest question here is what this ...
|
more »
On
I want to -- but can't -- hate the person who roped me into this conversation
Lucas Picador:
So the problem is that TV shows depict beat cop...
|
more »
On
Louie
, you disappoint me
Jeremy Osner:
Which police force wears orange uniforms?...
|
more »
On
In which SEK seems to be
trying
to get arrested
Wait, what?
Posted by: Fritz | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 02:46 PM
I feel worst for the potato headed young man sitting next to the Kissingers, cause, you know, he's got that big ole head to carry around.
Also America. I feel bad for America.
Posted by: JPool | Thursday, 14 August 2008 at 11:22 AM
Also also, it's a simple thing: if the flag is frontwards facing you, it's backwards for the people in front of you; say, photographers. Maybe we can come up with a mnemonic to help him remember this.
Never mind, he won't have time to learn it.
Posted by: JPool | Thursday, 14 August 2008 at 11:22 AM
Wait, the flag is backwards? Aren't flags double-sided? I mean, it's not upside down, is it?
Is that the joke, the flag is backwards?
Another backwards flag: http://www.grunt.com/images-bs/1st%20Iwo%20Flag%20Raising.jpg
Posted by: Fritz | Thursday, 14 August 2008 at 11:05 PM
Yeah, see, that flag is pivoting in a wind-based fashion around a pole, and so would only be backwards if they had managed to tie the stripes to the pole. Our President has the ability to hold the flag any damn way he pleases, including, as tradition would indicate, with the stars in the upper left corner for those facing him.
Posted by: JPool | Friday, 15 August 2008 at 12:59 AM
At a certain stage in a child's development, s/he will respond to your waving at him/her by waving at her/himself, not yet having learned that it's conventional to turn one's hand in the direction of one's interlocutor to wave. GWB has regressed prior to l'étade de miroir.
We have a cat who also waves at her own face when we wave at her; but I think she's just Giving Us The Paw.
Posted by: Josh | Friday, 15 August 2008 at 07:51 AM
Is the lady between Kissinger and Mr. Potato Head alive, or is she a wax figure from Madame Tussaud's strategically placed for would be assassins? - TL
Posted by: Tim Lacy | Friday, 15 August 2008 at 11:02 AM
Tradition, what a dangerously conservative basis of evaluation. But of course, as with all incidences of Bush Derangement Syndrome, there is no possible evidence that does not support your theory.
Posted by: Fritz | Friday, 15 August 2008 at 11:37 AM
Kissinger looks sleepy. Or drunk.
Posted by: The Necromancer | Friday, 15 August 2008 at 04:34 PM