About that lasagne. The first thing that came to mind was M*A*S*H and Major Charles Emerson Winchester III. But Southall moves far beyond even Charles's pomposity, leaps straight through the DSM-5-TR, and lands squarely on what feels like robotic AI. Cylon toast, anyone? Far beyond the intransigence of too many generations of inbred privilege, borne on the backs of those whose agency and humanity have been stolen, Southall versus Himself is center ring. There are echoes of current political turmoil and twentieth century hubris, fascism, and even murder. Everyone else (classmates, the dean, the grandfather, Shakespeare Lady, the recruiter, Jiminez, the other doctors) and even to some small degree a tiny spark of humanity within Southall—waiting either to be fanned or extinguished—watches in gobsmacked horror. It is a one-legged dance on the edge of a cliff, and we are afraid to look and also not to look at ourselves in our current dilemma—an age of science nonfiction. Is this a repeat of pharaoh deities, emperors, and the divine right of kings, or does a dangerous powerful aristocracy in an age of siloed media, disappearing local reporting, and AI make it infinitely more sinister? What or who have we allowed to emerge, and what the hell, if anything, are we going to do about it?
Thanks for this, Ben. I raced through it, which is not my usual style, so that says a lot. This has so many layers, like good lasagne. While I do actual paid work this afternoon, I will be digesting this internally in my emotional-historical-experiential-intellectual app running in the background. Cheers! Kate
Kate, thank you very much for your kind comments and the time you took to read it. I think this one is interesting, and it was one of the first I posted when I had no followers. As an aside, the homeless woman who recited Shakespeare was a real person who did just that on campus. Someone told me that she died a few years ago and was featured in the main New Haven register. I appreciate your keeping on your supercharged app.
Poignancy there; I was picturing a cross between the bird woman in Central Park from Home Alone 2 (I think) and the one singing Tuppence on the steps of St. Paul's in London from Marry Poppins...only unfused with some Patrick Stewart. There is a heart warming and sad sense about such a character, and yet, it feels as though she had agency in how she lived. Brava! More later.
Background. I wonder how things might have been different her if students had known. Maybe she would have been less of a curiosity. She came into the law school library occasionally to ask for money. I’m sad I didn’t befriend her. I just remember that she was extremely nice.
Ben, thank you for sending this link. Margaret was quite a woman: talented, intelligent, and kind. That our culture does such a hideous job helping people with serious mental illness fills me with shame and no small amount of outrage. I'm grateful to have met Margaret through a journalist with such humanity.
Thank you for the link! I was going to search for it later. Um, I meant infused, not unfused with Patrick Stewart. It's fun to have a Stackmate! Thanks for starting this by following me!
About that lasagne. The first thing that came to mind was M*A*S*H and Major Charles Emerson Winchester III. But Southall moves far beyond even Charles's pomposity, leaps straight through the DSM-5-TR, and lands squarely on what feels like robotic AI. Cylon toast, anyone? Far beyond the intransigence of too many generations of inbred privilege, borne on the backs of those whose agency and humanity have been stolen, Southall versus Himself is center ring. There are echoes of current political turmoil and twentieth century hubris, fascism, and even murder. Everyone else (classmates, the dean, the grandfather, Shakespeare Lady, the recruiter, Jiminez, the other doctors) and even to some small degree a tiny spark of humanity within Southall—waiting either to be fanned or extinguished—watches in gobsmacked horror. It is a one-legged dance on the edge of a cliff, and we are afraid to look and also not to look at ourselves in our current dilemma—an age of science nonfiction. Is this a repeat of pharaoh deities, emperors, and the divine right of kings, or does a dangerous powerful aristocracy in an age of siloed media, disappearing local reporting, and AI make it infinitely more sinister? What or who have we allowed to emerge, and what the hell, if anything, are we going to do about it?
Thanks for this, Ben. I raced through it, which is not my usual style, so that says a lot. This has so many layers, like good lasagne. While I do actual paid work this afternoon, I will be digesting this internally in my emotional-historical-experiential-intellectual app running in the background. Cheers! Kate
Kate, thank you very much for your kind comments and the time you took to read it. I think this one is interesting, and it was one of the first I posted when I had no followers. As an aside, the homeless woman who recited Shakespeare was a real person who did just that on campus. Someone told me that she died a few years ago and was featured in the main New Haven register. I appreciate your keeping on your supercharged app.
Poignancy there; I was picturing a cross between the bird woman in Central Park from Home Alone 2 (I think) and the one singing Tuppence on the steps of St. Paul's in London from Marry Poppins...only unfused with some Patrick Stewart. There is a heart warming and sad sense about such a character, and yet, it feels as though she had agency in how she lived. Brava! More later.
Here is the New Haven Register article. She was SO then from 95-98. Drugs, it says here. I don’t think *anyone* knew about her educational
Background. I wonder how things might have been different her if students had known. Maybe she would have been less of a curiosity. She came into the law school library occasionally to ask for money. I’m sad I didn’t befriend her. I just remember that she was extremely nice.
Oops
https://www.nhregister.com/news/article/Randall-Beach-Remembering-our-greatest-street-15315552.php#photo-19499420
Ben, thank you for sending this link. Margaret was quite a woman: talented, intelligent, and kind. That our culture does such a hideous job helping people with serious mental illness fills me with shame and no small amount of outrage. I'm grateful to have met Margaret through a journalist with such humanity.
Thank you for the link! I was going to search for it later. Um, I meant infused, not unfused with Patrick Stewart. It's fun to have a Stackmate! Thanks for starting this by following me!