- I don’t know why I find this particularly interesting, but I do:
The post office ignores the return address for Netflix DVDs and sorts them separately for a Netflix truck to pick them up early in the morning for processing.
Discs are shipped back to the nearest processing facility, regardless of the address on the return envelope; that address is there just for legal reasons, apparently. This seems like something I maybe sort of already knew, but it’s a reminder of the volume they (and by extension the post office) have to process.
- John Seavey’s Open Letter to Zombie Story Writers:
In essence, the human body is a machine, like an automobile. You are trying to describe the ways this machine can malfunction to produce a specific effect, and that’s good, but please stop explaining to me how it keeps going without wheels, gasoline, or a functioning engine.
He raises some interesting points, although I don’t think they apply to the “zombies” in films like 28 Days Later, as he seems to. At least from my recollection — and I re-watched the movie pretty recently — the infected population there a) don’t act at all like George Romeroesque zombies (i.e., no human flesh, no brains), and b) don’t continue acting beyond physically believable limits. Beyond normal pain tolerances, sure — there’s the one guy who keeps running even though he’s literally on fire — but into the realm of sheer impossibility.
- “What is, come with me if you want to live, Alex?” So you may have heard: a computer has won at Jeopardy. (There goes that Weird Al remix idea!) I’m still looking forward to the televised rematch next month, though perhaps not so much to the subsequent robot apocalypse.
- It’s worth it for Goodnight Dune alone: Five Sci-Fi Children’s Books. [via]
- And finally, Jeff VanderMeer on Everything You Need to Know to be a Fiction Writer.
books
Weekend, part 3 of 3
Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day — his birthday was Saturday — which means that my office was closed for the day.
I spent it not doing an awful lot. I finished reading The Best American Comics 2010, which I quite enjoyed, but which has now left me with a longer list of additional comics I want to check out. I watched a movie, Sleeping Dogs Lie, which is a decent, if not altogether perfect, dark comedy about secrets and relationships, and which is surprisingly funny and sweet for a film that starts — be forewarned — with a woman performing oral sex on a dog. (Entirely off-screen, and not particularly graphic, but dear god what kind of search requests am I inviting with this?) Then this evening, I watched The Social Network. It’s this tiny independent movie — you’ve probably never heard of it — but I think it has an outsider’s chance of winning a couple of awards this season. (In all seriousness, it’s really quite good.)
And that’s really it. It’s back to work tomorrow. Unless, you know, it snows too much or something. But I’m not really expecting that to happen.
Monday various
- Roger Ebert on The Green Hornet:
Casting about for something to praise, I recalled that I heard a strange and unique sound for the first time, a high-pitched whooshing scream, but I don’t think Gondry can claim it, because it came from the hand dryers in the nearby men’s room.
- At first I thought it was like that urban legend about the ghost on the set of Three Men and a Baby, but apparently this one’s true: Han Solo does appear in many, if not all, episodes of Firefly.
If you’re wondering, Mal shot first.
- Alex Beam of the Boston Globe wonders — or maybe wondered back in November when I first saw this link — are new translations necessary? It’s an interesting question, but there’s no mention of instances when newer translations get things right, or make necessary corrections, or significantly change our understanding of a text. Proust’s famous novel is better translated as In Search of Lost Time, for instance, and newer translations of Camus’ The Stranger have called into question earlier readings of its famous opening lines.
So, short answer? Yeah, I think they’re still necessary. [via]
- Speaking of translations, the surprisingly intriguing story of why Uncle Scrooge McDuck is called “Dagobert” in Germany. [via]
- And finally….
The Justice League, re-imagined as a 1977 punk rock movie, based on an art challenge posed by Warren Ellis and by the exceptionally talented Annie Wu.
Never the Twain shall meet
I keep wanting to say something — just something — about that forthcoming new edition of Huckleberry Finn that you may have heard about recently, the one that replaces Mark Twain’s some two hundred uses of the word “nigger” — and let’s just get that right out there at the start — with the word “slave.” But beyond saying, well, I don’t think they should do that, I don’t have a whole lot to say about it. Frankly, lots of other people have already said it better than me.
For instance, Petter David writes:
To me, the bottomline [sic] is this: I have little doubt that fifty years from now the NewSouth edition will be forgotten, seen as a quaint relic of attempted censorship in the same manner that the Bowdler versions of Shakespeare plays are. In the meantime, Huck Finn’s realization that a man should be judged–if he is to be judged at all–by the quality of his soul rather than the color of his skin–will continue to shine as a clarion call for racial tolerance in a way that all the censored versions of classic works will not.
I heard an interview with the new edition’s editor, Alan Gribben, on a recent episode of Studio 360, and his intentions seem to be good, his heart in the right place. Many students, and not just African Americans, he argues, have a very difficult time engaging with the novel because of that word; it’s simply too loaded a word for them to read past it. In his introduction, he writes:
Through a succession of firsthand experiences, this editor gradually concluded that an epithet-free edition of Twain’s books is necessary today. For nearly forty years I have led college classes, bookstore forums, and library reading groups in detailed discussions of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn in California, Texas, New York, and Alabama, and I always recoiled from uttering the racial slurs spoken by numerous characters, including Tom and Huck. I invariably substituted the word “slave†for Twain’s ubiquitous n-word whenever I read any passages aloud. Students and audience members seemed to prefer this expedient, and I could detect a visible sense of relief each time, as though a nagging problem with the text had been addressed. Indeed, numerous communities currently ban Huckleberry Finn as required reading in public schools owing to its offensive racial language and have quietly moved the title to voluntary reading lists. The American Library Association lists the novel as one of the most frequently challenged books across the nation.
And yet, while his intention is not censorship, it is at the very least sugarcoating, and one of a distinctly odd variety: his substitution may not have the hateful power of Twain’s original, the same slap-in-the-face quality that the n-word has since acquired, but it is, in the end, arguably more offensive.
That’s debatable, of course, and obviously my reaction to either word isn’t going to be the same as a young African American high school or college student’s. It may indeed be incredibly difficult for such a student to work past the n-word, to see past the centuries of racism and hate that have often divided us and made teaching the book so contentious. But isn’t that, to a very large extent, what teaching is for?
Matt Cheney writes about this in great detail, and his post, along with the links he shares, are worth reading in full. In part, he says:
I think teachers have a responsibility to raise and work through difficult, discomforting topics with students, because those topics are not going to disappear if they’re not talked about. Students will encounter racism and sexism and homophobia and all sorts of other privileges, entitlements, and entanglements — they will even, in all likelihood, perpetrate some of those things themselves (I have; haven’t we all?). Education shouldn’t be about memorizing lots of facts and figures, or about reading pleasant and uncontroversial books. There’s a place, certainly, for facts, figures, and pleasant reading. But educators need to have some spark of idealism. We should want to make the world better, and to help empower our students in whatever small ways we can to go forth and help make the world a more beautiful, less painful place. Otherwise, why bother teaching?
Perhaps replacing the word “nigger” with “slave” throughout Huck Finn makes the book better; it certainly doesn’t make the world better.
So, in the end, yeah, I don’t have a lot to say myself beyond, well, I wish they wouldn’t do that. But they’re going to do it, and no doubt the altered edition will be taught in a number of schools going forward. I just think, for however easier it will make the teaching and reading experience, those students and their instructors are getting cheated.
Weekend, part 1 of 3
Today was a pretty good day.
I did some writing, some reading — mostly the Neil Gaiman-edited Best American Comics 2010 — and some cleaning. I watched some comedy on Netflix, specifically Dana Gould and then Russell Brand, and this evening I watched Splice. The movie follows a fairly predictable path, but I liked that it often did so in somewhat unpredictable ways.
It wasn’t an exciting day, especially when you add it all up like that, but it was a pleasant Saturday. And sometimes that’s all you want or need.