Etymology Break: “Bunkum”

I did not know until today that “bunk,” “bunkum,” and “debunk” were among North Carolina's many contributions to Western Civilization. Imagine Brave New World without Ford's “History is bunk”—it wouldn't work. And where would anti-spiritualist literature be without “debunk”?

It turns out that “bunkum” actually comes from Buncombe County, location of Asheville and birthplace of Thomas Wolfe. You may have known this already. But I learned it today.

“[The Jeffersonian Republicans] were determined to get Missouri admitted without restrictions on slavery. After the Sixteenth Congress convened in December 1819, the debate over Missouri resumed. The speeches seemed interminable as well as intemperate. When Felix Walker of North Carolina was urged to sit down, he replied that he had to give his speech for the folks back home, ‘for Buncombe County.’ Ever since, Americans have called a certain kind of inflated political oratory ‘buncombe’ — or ‘bunk’ for short.”

-Daniel Walker Howe. What Hath God Wrought: The Transformation of America, 1815-1848. New York: Oxford UP, 2007. (151)

I've spent non-negligible amounts of time in Buncombe County on many occasions… but I never knew.

Explanation.

Dear The Internet,

I haven't been around much these last few weeks. I wish I could say that I'm sorry, but really, I'm not. I definitely don't feel like I owe you an explanation, but I suppose I can give you an explanation, as a gift or something. Basically, these last few weeks have been a sort of perfect storm of (1) interesting things happening in the physical world (e.g. a spate of weddings), (2) concentrating on things that I find too complicated for posting, (3) and disinterest in the various “brouhahas” and “kerfuffles” that are going on right now.

I anticipate that once I've sorted through some of the complicated things referenced in (2), I'll start posting more on the various sites with which I'm affiliated.

-wrb

Selfishly convenient.

David Foster Wallace’s penchant for footnoting makes him a little bit hard to excerpt, but I’m going to use an asterisk to represent what is a numbered footnote in the text:

Is it possible that future generations will regard our present agribusiness and eating practices in much the same way we now view Nero’s entertainments or Mengele’s experiments? My own initial reaction is that such a comparison is hysterical, extreme — and yet the reason it seems extreme to me appears to be that I believe animals are less morally important than human beings;* and when it comes to defending such a belief, even to myself, I have to acknowledge that (a) I have obvious selfish interest in this belief, since I like to eat certain kinds of animals and want to be able to keep doing it, and (b) I haven’t succeeded in working out any kind of personal ethical system in which the belief is truly defensible instead of just selfishly convenient.

* Meaning a lot less important, apparently, since the moral comparison here is not the value of one human’s life vs. the value of one animal’s life, but rather the value of one animal’s life vs. the value of one human’s taste for a particular kind of protein. Even the most diehard carniphile will acknowledge that it’s possible to live and eat well without consuming animals.

-David Foster Wallace, “Consider the Lobster.” Consider the Lobster. New York: Little, Brown, and Company, 2006. (253)

Yeah… pretty much. I am so far from a moral example on this one.

UPDATE: Bought myself some couscous. Felt no guilt when I ate it. (Couscous isn't made from animals, right?)

DFW's cultural pessimism.

Infinite Jest was the first thing I read by David Foster Wallace. I think it was back in the summer of 2004. It was only years later that I got around to any of his other work. Flipping through Consider the Lobster today made me realize that DFW really earned his take on American culture. He went on the cruise, he interviewed the right-wing radio jock, he sat through the porn awards, he got out there and mixed it up. (Although perhaps he only got this kind of access after he'd written his big book…) At any rate, I think a second trip through Infinite Jest will be pretty rewarding once I've read a bit more of the non-fiction.

I'm usually inclined to speculate from the comfort of a comfy chair whenever I can. But there's a good case to be made that comfy-chair critics should be ignored whenever possible.

Kant on blogging.

Well, not really. But that's what this makes me think of:

“But it is quite absurd to try for popularity in the first inquiry, upon which depends the total correctness of the principles. Not only can such a procedure never lay claim to the very rare merit of a true philosophical popularity, inasmuch as there is really no art involved at all in being generally intelligible if one thereby renounces all basic insight, but such a procedure turns out a disgusting mishmash of patchwork observations and half-reasoned principles in which shallowpates revel because all this is something quite useful for the chitchat of everyday life.”

-Immanuel Kant, Grounding for the Metaphysic of Morals, trans. James W. Ellington

It's lines like this that make me wish I could read it in the German. How on earth did the translator pick “shallowpates”?

Maybe I should change my blog's subheading from “the world around William includes…” to “a disgusting mishmash of patchwork observations and half-reasoned principles.”

“Su-per-chunk.”

Mac says:

“it's just strange hearing the news-y voice of Charles Gibson saying the word ‘Superchunk.’”

He's right. It is pretty weird. Anyways, there's a new Superchunk EP out. It's got “Misfits and Mistakes,” which is, in my opinion, a fantastic song.

Commitment.

Sort of really loving this song, by my friend Casey. Think Roy Orbison crossed with Bon Iver.

Stress solution.

Few things can alleviate the stress of the end of a busy semester like singing your throat out to Vee Vee on the back roads of the Piedmont.

“Protesting.”

Embarrassing again.



What's the point of college if it leaves you on this level of engagement?

UPDATE: The people who got arrested weren't UNC students. Don't know about others in the room.

Weird news.

While walking to my apartment two days ago, I saw like six police cars and a dude in handcuffs. It was twilight, so I couldn't tell what was going on, but it seemed pretty big.

Turns out it probably had something to do with the date. It was 4-20, and it seems the guy was having a bad trip on shrooms.

Decay.

I know I've linked before, and I don't want to be too pushy, but some of detroitfunk's recent posts are among the best I've seen so far. Particularly the one on Joy Middle School and its piles of rotting textbooks, and also the one on Interurban Station, which discusses how the auto industry killed mass transit in Detroit.

Who was Spengler?

I can't remember how I first found Spengler, but it was sometime in the fall of 2007 when I was tentatively trying to figure out how to run this blog thing. Then as now, stumbling across obviously intelligent writers with highly idiosyncratic, often repulsive, and yet sometimes weirdly compelling takes on the world was a pleasure that seemed unique to the internet. My tastes may be weird in this respect, but I prefer a little bit of mystery in my blog-reading. Trying to figure out Spengler's background was as frustrating/rewarding as, say, trying to figure out why James Poulos hates “a sense of.” It's the blogosphere's equivalent of long-plot shows like LOST, where hints and clues are leaked out slowly and issued remain unresolved over the course of years, not posts/episodes. Not for everybody, but I dig it.

Well, Spengler is David P. Goldman, and he's the new associate editor of First Things.

First Things was an immensely important magazine for me, even though I'm drifting away from certain parts of the editors' general outlook (e.g., on economics and war). It will be interesting to see where they go from here.

Shameful.

Not to put too fine a point on it: some subset of UNC's students appears to be comprised of incredibly stupid people.

This semester a small chapter (just eight members) of a student group called Youth For Western Civilization formed on campus, with a visibility of almost zero. I'm not going to link to them; their website makes them look like unsophisticated nativists looking to provoke.

And provoke they did.

I never would have heard of them—almost no one would have heard of them—had not some other student group blanketed the campus with posters accusing Youth For Western Civilization of white supremacy. In announcing their protest, this group did all the publicity work that Youth for Western Civilization could have hoped for.

So when Tom Tancredo showed up, it seems he got an audience of about 150 listeners (not necessarily supporters!). I'd be very curious to know how many of them only heard about the event from protesters.

And the protesters shut Tancredo down. They opened up a poster in front of him, they shouted him down, and they did whatever they could to keep him from talking. When the police cleared them out, they broke a window outside. Tancredo left without delivering his speech.

“No dialogue with hate”? What on this wide green earth do protesters think they're doing? Youth for Western Civilization could not have hoped for a better outcome. Speeches on immigration reform are almost always boring and forgettable. A group of angry students threatening a speaker with violence? That's going to show up in David Horowitz's books for years to come. To say it again: this is exactly what the right wing wanted. Hope you enjoyed your games, campus protesters, because you've done everything you could have possibly done to help the people you're trying to oppose.

For example, expect to see this line again and again and again:

“Fascists are fascists,” Tancredo said. “Their actions were probably the best speech I could ever give. They are what's wrong with America today. ... When all you can do is yell epithets, that means you are intellectually bankrupt.”

Daily Tar Heel's story here. This whole mess is a disgrace.

(Shaky handheld) Youtube 1 and Youtube 2.

UPDATE: In the comments on another DTH article, Christine Crowther explains that it wasn't everyone.

“I'm a new student here, just started this semester, and I have come to love UNC. Really love it. I love how involved the students are, and how passionate, and yes, how diverse our campus is. But I have honestly never been more thoroughly disappointed with the immature and counterproductive actions of a few students.

“I went to Bingham Hall to protest Tom Tancredo's ideas, and those of Youth for Western Civilization. I did not go to keep Tancredo from speaking. I, and many others in the audience, wore white ribbons to symbolize the fact that we wanted a peaceful demonstration, and were generally quiet and respectful. I dont know anything about what happened outside. What I do know is that as soon as someone got up to introduce the speaker, several individuals started yelling obscenities, shouting 'racist', and generally making it impossible for the person making the introduction to be heard. The fact that there was no sound system set up and the room was at capacity made the situation much worse.

“However, I would like to point out that the vast majority of the protesters in the room shushed these individuals, and called out 'let him speak'. When the banner reading "no dialogue with hate" was placed across the front of the room, the general sentiment in the room was that it ought to be moved, and Tancredo ought to be allowed to speak. On different occasions, representatives of the Hispanic students' organization, and others, appealed to people for respect.

“The crowd did finally calm down. Tancredo did begin to speak, everything was going well, and suddenly a window shattered inwards towards seated students, protesters, and the audience at large. We were stunned. I think I speak for most people in the room when I say that it felt like a major defeat, to have such a random, violent thing happen when everyone had been convinced to listen.

“I am deeply hurt and angered that such a minority was able to hijack what could have been a space for dialogue. I fail to understand how the liberal majority on this campus could be so threatened by the expression of radically conservative ideas that they would try to discourage free speech. I think we should let neofascists (or any other radical and unpopular group) talk all they like- their ideas do not stand up to reason. If Tancredo had been allowed to speak, he would have looked like the illogical xenophobe that he is. But since he wasnt, the story will now be about how hypocritical liberals shut down free speech. Good job guys.”

Don't trust “the obvious” any further than you can throw it.

The Internet continually reminds me just how subjective “the obvious” (or “nonsense”) can be. People see such different things in the swirling, seething data storm.

In other words, hold no truths to be self-evident.

Not entirely unrelated to this little bit of meta is the discussion about the recent David Brooks column, unfortunately titled “The End of Philosophy.” Given that so many of our beliefs and so much of our behavior has a basis outside that rational, what does philosophy actually do? Hilzoy's got an answer. In part:

“It's one thing (and a very interesting thing) to ask: how, exactly, do we make moral decisions on the fly? But while that's useful to moral philosophy in a number of ways, it is not directed at the questions moral philosophy tries to answer. Those questions include: which actions should we perform? What kinds of people should we try to be? What principles should we try to live by?”

John Schwenkler has some good words:

“…our understandings of space and time, of quantity and number, of matter and color and life and death, are ultimately shaped by our more basic modes of access to the world in very similar sorts of ways, but by no means does that entail the impossibility of using science and philosophy as tools to deepen and, at times, significantly refine those understandings in precisely the sorts of ways that Socrates envisioned. Philosophy can come in toward the end even if it’s not that relevant at the beginning, and so granting the emotions the first word in the human grasp of morality doesn’t require conceding that they also have the last.”

Razib responded, and John followed up. Good times were had by all.

Filling my yearly quota of sports blogging in one single post.

Go Tar Heels.

(P.S. I had an idea for a movie where Kurt Russell plays a one-eyed basketball coach whose team defeats Detroit's hometown favorites for the NCAA championship. The whole town goes crazy! And Coach Plissken spends the rest of the movie helping his team Escape from Detroit.)

UPDATE: So we won by a bunch. Time to go see the mob and the bonfires on Franklin Street.

Why?

Freddie asked, “Who writes anything for anyone but themselves, really?”

When I try to think about why I write things on the internet, I can only come up with a few justifications, which don't actually balance all that well against time invested:

1. The discipline of writing regularly in space which is accessible to anyone (though likely to be seen only by a few) will improve my style. This is good both for jobs that require written communication and because there are rewards internal to being able to do something kind of well.
2. Like-minded people who also write on the internet can recommend good books and articles that I would have otherwise missed.
3. Maybe, just maybe, just maybe, someone someday will pay me to write something. I had hoped that I could come up with something interesting enough for C11, but that's over and done.
4. It is very nice to have a searchable record of arguments I've made, as well as interesting quotes and articles. In theory, I could just create this on my hard drive or a private blog, but reason (1) makes it more likely that I actually keep the record.

I am more and more convinced that the pleasures of the site meter and the pleasures of the internet argument are seductive empty simulacra: virtual accomplishment that has exactly as much substance as all that virtual money that's disappeared into the ether.

I'm not posting this at the League, since the readers there might not know how much of a depressio I can be, and I want to break it to them slowly.

(To make any money at all off an independent blog, it seems like you have to load it up with ugly ads and then have some crazy amount of interesting opinions about everything, or, alternately, some combination of willful stupidity and shamelessness in linking.)

The future of William Writes.

So I've accepted an invitation to join the group blog The League of Ordinary Gentlemen. I won't be writing there more than once a week or so until after Easter, but I intend to let William Writes fade for the time being. These individual blogs tend to resurrect themselves unexpectedly, so you might want to keep the subscription if you're RSS'd.

I hope the League will be a good place for me to test ideas on culture and politics. I think it'll be a good place to explore the consequences of the social decline of Protestantism in the USA… but I'll be pursuing another project where I will try to write about being a part of a confused tradition in a modern world, for those of us who are engaged in the struggle. More on that when it comes together.

Anyhow, the other writers at the League are smart guys and always up for a debate, so check them out, leave some comments, and watch for my future contributions.

EDIT: Forgot to mention that Will Collins is also joining. So there's another reason to drop by.

Cheese.

In principle, I would love to be a Michael-Pollan-style eater of real food, but in practice I have trouble. I keep telling myself that someday I will do better.

So please don't be angry or upset when I tell you that I usually buy store-brand American cheese (not “cheese product,” though) for my sandwiches. It's just easier than understanding all the complicated varieties of real cheese, and now it's part of my routine.

I do like to change things up from time to time, so yesterday I bought the white kind of American cheese, like they have at Subway, rather than the yellow kind. I thought to myself, it will be good to have sandwiches that are basically the same, but taste slightly different.

But I hope I didn't have an ulterior motive.

Stotlebots.

This is not Lenten, but since it's already mostly written I thought I'd go ahead and post it. Excerpt from a paper I just turned in:

Consider the case of extremely advanced androids whose behavior is entirely determined by circuitry, yet whose behavior appears outwardly to be very much like our own. These androids have built-in subroutines that direct them to perform necessary and complicated maintenance, such as collecting energy and disposing of waste. These subroutines are analogous to our own bodily desires. They also have advanced defense routines, so that when they are in danger they alter their behavior in order to survive the situation. The defense routines can even be activated when nearby androids are in danger. These routines correspond to our own spiritedness and our biological fight-or-flight responses. Finally, the androids have a complicated unit that handles their long-term task management. The android has a database of long-term goals. Progress toward these goals proceeds according to a complicated rubric; no single goal takes precedence at all times. When the android has sufficient energy to do so and is not in danger, the long-term deciding-unit selects the top goal at the moment. Then it uses a randomizer based on something very subtle, like variations in atmospheric static, to generate a list of possible actions to achieve that goal. It runs an evolutionary algorithm through several generations, optimizing at each stage and generating several new options that are similar to the best option of the previous stage. What is important here is that the android can override some of its basic maintenance and defense routines, and even goals which are subsidiary at the moment, if its long-term planner decides that such an option would be the best way to achieve the long-term goal that is currently prioritized.

The behavior of such an android is completely determined by its physical capabilities, its programming, and the output of the randomizer that its long-term planner depends on. But, if the randomizer is good enough and the long-term planner can generate diverse options, the behavior of the android will be impossible to predict. We know that its behavior is determined by physical states—but knowing the input to the randomizer doesn’t tell us anything about the action that the robot ends up performing. That is to say, we know that the android’s behavior is ultimately caused by its physical state, but in describing its unexpected behavior it only makes sense to trace the cause back to the long-term planning unit. If we say the robot is responsible for an action, we can mean in a technical sense that the action came from the long-term planning unit.

This gave me an idea for a cartoon series called 'Stotlebots. The first series will be about the battle between the Aretebots, led by Sokraton Prime and his lieutenant Plator, and the Sophisticons, led by Gorgiastron. They battle it out in scratchy 80s anime, and later in sharper 90s animation. Then, after a while, we'll switch to CGI for the next series, in which the Essentiabots (including Aquinox and Dunobot Scotus) and and the Nominacons (Megoccamtron's team) crash-land on an abandoned planet (which turns out to be Earth, far in the past) and duke it out for a few seasons. Then the CGI gets smoother, and the Essentiabots finally go back to their homeworld, where everything changes.

In short: my new fake life mission is to reproduce the work of Alasdair MacIntyre via the genre of giant-fighting-robot Saturday-morning cartoons. The massive revenue I will get from merchandising, especially with awesome action figures, is just a side bonus.

Lent begins tomorrow.

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, which is the beginning of the Christian season of Lent. Churches that observe Lent do so as a way of preparing for Easter, the most important holiday in the Christian year, by taking extra time for reflection, devotion, and spiritual practices. Often, we “give something up,” the idea being that our deviation from the routine will remind us to reflect on the last weeks of Christ's life and their significance. Going further, our weakness in the presence of even small deprivations underscores the magnitude of what Jesus suffered. (I only explain this because Lent seems bizarre and ritualistic even to many Protestants I know, not to mention non-Christians.)

My Lenten commitments over the past few years have tended to involve reducing my use of some kind of technology. This year I'm going to cut back on blogging and reading blogs, in hopes of using the extra time to better purpose. If I post, I'll avoid my usual topics in favor of something appropriate to the season, probably theology. (Please don't say I'm “blogging my way through Lent”—nothing so gauche as that!)

Things will be back to normal here in forty days.