Masha Gessen ends on a somewhat positive note in her Nov 2016 essay Autocracy: Rules for Survival | The New York Review of Books:
Rule #6: Remember the future. Nothing lasts forever. Donald Trump certainly will not, and Trumpism, to the extent that it is centered on Trump’s persona, will not either. Failure to imagine the future may have lost the Democrats this election. They offered no vision of the future to counterbalance Trump’s all-too-familiar white-populist vision of an imaginary past. They had also long ignored the strange and outdated institutions of American democracy that call out for reform—like the electoral college, which has now cost the Democratic Party two elections in which Republicans won with the minority of the popular vote. That should not be normal. But resistance—stubborn, uncompromising, outraged—should be.
If you’re like me, the main outcome of the upcoming election you want is to prevent the election of Donald Trump. To give myself a productive activity to work to defeat Trump, I’ve been making lots of phone calls
for Hillary via https://hillaryclinton.com/calls/. Right now, we’re focused on recruiting other volunteers. Soon enough, we’ll be focused on GOTV (get out the vote) activities.
This is something you can do from anywhere you have internet access and phone access and is made up of lots of discrete tasks. It’s even fun and inspiring at times, when you connect with other people in the country wanting to contribute to our society. (Most of the time, no one picks up the phone, which I used to see as frustrating but now I see as relaxing in a funny way.)
I encourage you to join me in phone banking for Hillary. I’d be very happy to talk to anyone interested in learning more or phone banking with you folks. (You can also find events in which other people will be making calls. Sometimes it’s easiest to get started while surrounded
by others making calls too.)
This morning, after a long break from writing journalistically in the black Moleskine I carry around in my backpack, I scrawled:
Stand back to see where my handwriting hand leads me right now. Early morning writing can sometimes be downright magical, illuminating hitherto dark spaces of the mind and heart.
What followed was a trance of fluidity that I rarely have when writing on my computer. What do we know about the difference between writing in a paper journal and on a computer?
Isn’t it positively quaint to hope that I will write in any meaningful way on this blog when so many of the cool writers on the web have migrated to Medium?
I’m actually inspired to get back to writing on this blog because Dreamhost, the current host for this blog, has made it free and easy for me to use HTTPS on my site (via letsencrypt.) As silly as this may sound, I feel much more at home now on this blog, now I can write over more secure channels. (yes, I know: Medium also support HTTS –> so HTTPS cannot be the determinative factor in whether I write here.)
I just encountered (and signed) the rootstrikers.org petition to stop the renewal of the Copyright Term Extension Act (CTEA), making me wonder what’s up with the Act. A quick Google search landed me on this Washington Post story story with the following paragraph distillation of the current state of affairs:
The copyright extension Clinton signed will expire in five years. Copyright holders like the Disney Corp. and the Gershwin estate have a strong incentive to try to extend copyright extension yet further into the future. But with the emergence of the Internet as a political organizing tool, opponents of copyright extension will be much better prepared. The question for the coming legislative battle on copyright is who will prevail: those who would profit from continuing to lock up the great works of the 20th century, or those who believe Bugs Bunny should be as freely available for reuse as Little Red Riding Hood.
In the mid to late 1990s, the Berkeley campus offered to its doctoral students a dissertation writing workshop for Berkeley run by Dorothy Duff Brown. I remember it after all these years as a lifesaver. Brown offered so much good practical advice. Don’t rely solely on my computer but also make use of print in writing large documents. Decide as a matter of personal discipline (and sanity) when to stop working each day, rather than on when to begin. After all, writing a dissertation is a process of guilt management. Even more valuable than the advice, however, was the kind sympathy that the Dr. Brown offered me and my fellow grad students — something that was, alas, often in short supply on the campus.
I will have to find out from the Berkeley Grad Division what has happened to the dissertation writing workshop. I see mention of such workshops in a list of offerings. I am, however, glad to see that folks at Michigan State University had captured some of Dorothy Duff Brown’s wisdom when she spoke there.
I knew that Tracy Kidder is a famous writer but I didn’t know that he had received many of the most prestigious national literary prizes. For better or worse, that understanding has raised the chances I’ll end up buying Good Prose, the book he recently co-authored with Richard Todd, his long time editor. The book’s publicist certainly understood that a book on non-fiction writing will have to be sold on not only the merits of the authors’ reputation but also on first impressions of the content. And he standards will be high since the promise of learning from a master team are dangled before prospective readers/buyers.
I’m in no immediate need to buy the book since I just borrowed it from the university library. Ideally I can even read it once before deciding whether to spend money for my own copy.
I usually call my elected representatives to advocate for specific policy stances. I’m torn about whether Congress should vote to intervene militarily in Syria. (My heart and gut say no but I’m not totally sure.) So instead of advocating against military intervention, I currently plan to say to my Congressional representatives: put away the usual game playing, the stuff of day-to-day politics, and embrace fully the sobering task you have before you in deciding which potentially world-altering and calamitous actions to enact. Please help lead this country and me, your constituent, in this serious work of prayerful and thoughtful consideration.
Today is the centenary of the shocking premier of Igor Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. Though I vaguely knew how famous the piece is, I hadn’t listened to it until last night. In addition to watching the impressive visualization of the piece (Stravinsky, The Rite of Spring, Part 1: The Adoration of the Earth and Part 2: The Exalted Sacrifice ), I took in the Keeping Score documentary on the work, narrated with great passion by San Francisco Symphony director Michael Tilson Thomas (the ever charismatic MTT). I look forward to listening to more versions of The Rite of Spring and reading more about the history of the piece.
If I had been slightly more organized this Sunday morning, I would have walked down the hill in quiet solitude to catch a bus into Berkeley. Instead, I will now hop in my car to make the short pilgrimage to All Souls Parish. With a bit of preparation, I’ll arrive in a relatively unhurried state of mind. Should I, however, putter around on my computer any further, I’ll arrive slightly late, wondering why I can’t be prepare myself properly for worship service. The wheel turns again.