Team spirit.

I believe.
byu/Nacho_Sideboob inBrewers

My prompts to Grok: "Tell me about the notion that the Milwaukee Brewers are doing so well right now because they're playing for the recently deceased Bob Uecker"/"Examine the metaphysical angle. I'm seeing references to Uecker as the 'Angel in the Outfield' and many repetitions of the idea that he's 'looking down' (from Heaven) watching the games."

For Grok's answer, if you need it, go here. Snippet:

"Don't ask me nothin' about nothin' – I just might tell you the truth."

Sang Timothée Chalamet, on "SNL" last night, where he was the host, in a bunch of skits, and also performed, in his Bob Dylan persona, as the musical guest.

There were 3 songs — "Outlaw Blues" and, surprisingly "Three Angels"...

... and "Tomorrow Is a Long Time"...

What did you think? It's very hard for me to judge... other than that I was delighted that "Three Angels" was chosen and disappointed that the sound wasn't balanced properly in the end of the song and we lost Timmy's voice. But does anyone hear the music they play, does anyone even try?

I'm interested in the fashion interpretation of Bob's famous polka dots. Bob's were a shirt. Timmy's — same size and color — were a hoodie. The shift from shirt to hoodie sheds light on the choice to do "Three Angels." It's a rap song.

ADDED: I haven't been able to force myself to go see Chalamet's movie yet, so I don't know how close these performances last night are to his embodiment of Bob in the movie. In a Reddit discussion, the top comment is: "Actually credit for Timmy for not doing Bob, I much more appreciate a Dylan cover that's not trying to be Bob and that rendition of Three Angels sounded fresh." 

Mystic chords/mystical cord.

I'm reading "The Not-So-Secret Weapon in the Special Relationship/Queen Elizabeth offered a mystical cord to the past that held together the U.S.-UK alliance" in Politico. 

Why would you write "mystical cord," when Abraham Lincoln famously said in his first inaugural speech, "mystic chords":

We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.

Note the "of"s: bonds of affection... chords of memory... chorus of the Union... better angels of our nature.

The heads of Drudge have got me wondering — which one is the real boy?

Note the headless angel, the creepy succession of men, and — topping it all off — the little puppet boy. Beyond heads — hands: I like the mirrored hand gestures, the angel and Joe Biden and then Tom Cotton and Pinocchio. All the human entities frown. We can't know the expression on the angel statues head and Pinocchio is slack-jawed and woozy. 

Anyway, what's up with Disney sending the live-action remake of "Pinocchio" straight to video? It was directed by Robert Zemeckis and stars Tom Hanks. That's conspicuously intended to be huge. It must stink like a bad cigar.

ADDED: I see that there is a second live-action version of Pinocchio coming out this year.

"She was sitting in an office with other parents and their children when one of the mothers 'accidentally' spilled coffee on Grimes’s dress just before she went in for her interview."

"'It might have intimidated some little girls, but it gave me something to talk about,' she said. Capra, who 'handpicked every single person in that film,' according to Grimes, hired her." 

From "As ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ turns 75, Karolyn ‘Zuzu’ Grimes reflects on the film that belatedly changed her life" (WaPo).

Grimes played George Bailey’s youngest daughter, Zuzu, the “little ginger snap” with the petals, who in the film’s profoundly soul-stirring climax, says perhaps the film’s most-quoted line: “Look, Daddy, teacher says every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.” 

“I had no clue whatsoever those words would be so special to so many people,” she said. “I’m thrilled I got to say them and that I got to be a part of that scene and that movie.”

Every time you spill coffee on somebody, an angel gets the part you were trying to deny her.

Here's the video — narrated by Tom Hanks — in which the Cleveland Indians reveal their new name: the Guardians.

Together, we are all... pic.twitter.com/R5FnT4kv1I

— Cleveland Indians (@Indians) July 23, 2021

ADDED: Here are the graphics:

Introducing the Cleveland Guardians!

The name will go into effect after the 2021 season. pic.twitter.com/ggCFyIRD2y

— MLB (@MLB) July 23, 2021

A closer look at that logo:

I think the feathers are reminiscent of a Native American feathered headdress, but the Indians old "Chief Wahoo" logo was aimed the other way — with a face rather than a baseball — and wore a single feather. The new feathers could be associated with angel's wings, which fits with "Guardians" if you think of guardian angels. 

But if the baseball seems like a head rather than an entire body, then the wings make us think of the winged helmets of various warriors and ancient gods. If so, the name "Guardians" feels one step away from "Warriors," one of the names that — I presume — the Indians considered. I know the Washington football team — transitioning from "Redskins" — rejected "Warriors" because it contained too much of a residue of Indians. 

ALSO: As discussed in the comments, there's this:

TBH, The Guardians is much more authentically Cleveland than most jokesters on this website understand

These four statues--The Guardians of Transportation--are absolute icons in the city and familiar to anyone who has any sort of roots in the area https://t.co/8u0fx9SKI0 pic.twitter.com/vlifF39JjQ

— josh grubbs (@JoshuaGrubbsPhD) July 23, 2021

"Zephyrinus's predecessor Pope Victor I had excommunicated Theodotus the Tanner for reviving a heresy that Christ only became God after his resurrection."

"Theodotus' followers formed a separate heretical community at Rome ruled by another Theodotus, the Money Changer, and Asclepiodotus. Natalius, who was tortured for his faith during the persecution, was persuaded by Asclepiodotus to become a bishop in their sect in exchange for a monthly stipend of 150 denarii. Natalius then reportedly experienced several visions warning him to abandon these heretics. According to an anonymous work entitled The Little Labyrinth... Natalius was whipped a whole night by an angel; the next day he donned sackcloth and ashes, and weeping bitterly threw himself at the feet of Zephyrinus."

Stray information about religion, picked up not because I was searching for the most depressing religion — see previous post — but because I was wondering what was happening in the world in the year 199 so I could make a joke to amuse someone who'd emailed me privately and made a typo in the process of writing that something had been going on since 1999.

The answer is that Zephyrinus became Pope in 199.

And I'm wondering — because I happen to be a person who audibly struggles with something while I am asleep (so I am told) — what it is like to be whipped a whole night by an angel. And will the whipping stop if I don the modern equivalent of sackcloth and ashes and throw myself at the feet of the modern equivalent of Zephyrinus?

ADDED: Gauguin's "Vision After the Sermon (Jacob Wrestling with the Angel)":

Is Gustave Doré's "Saintly throng in the shape of a rose" the source material for the illustration for the NYT article "Everything Is for Sale Now. Even Us"?

In Dante's "Paradiso" the souls in Heaven form a rose:

Dante sees an enormous rose, symbolising divine love, the petals of which are the enthroned souls of the faithful (both those of the Old Testament and those of the New). All the souls he has met in Heaven, including Beatrice, have their home in this rose. Angels fly around the rose like bees, distributing peace and love. Beatrice now returns to her place in the rose, signifying that Dante has passed beyond theology in directly contemplating God, and St. Bernard, as a mystical contemplative, now guides Dante further (Canto XXXI).

The 19th century illustrator Gustave Doré visualized the rose like this:



Here's the NYT article (by Ruth Whippman), "Everything Is for Sale Now. Even Us. The constant pressure to sell ourselves on every possible platform has produced its own brand of modern anxiety."

Almost everyone I know now has some kind of hustle, whether job, hobby, or side or vanity project. Share my blog post, buy my book, click on my link, follow me on Instagram, visit my Etsy shop, donate to my Kickstarter, crowdfund my heart surgery. It’s as though we are all working in Walmart on an endless Black Friday of the soul.

Being sold to can be socially awkward, for sure, but when it comes to corrosive self-doubt, being the seller is a thousand times worse. The constant curation of a salable self demanded by the new economy can be a special hellspring of anxiety.

Like many modern workers, I find that only a small percentage of my job is now actually doing my job. The rest is performing a million acts of unpaid micro-labor that can easily add up to a full-time job in itself. Tweeting and sharing and schmoozing and blogging. Liking and commenting on others’ tweets and shares and schmoozes and blogs. Ambivalently “maintaining a presence on social media,” attempting to sell a semi-fictional, much more appealing version of myself in the vain hope that this might somehow help me sell some actual stuff at some unspecified future time....

There's no explanation of how the illustrator, Tim Enthoven, developed his image, which I like very much and like even more if it's an intentional invocation of Doré's saintly throng:



Go to the article for a full-size version. The article is quite good and worth spending one of your free NYT views on, even without the bonus of the illustration. I love the inclusion of a Golden Retriever in the modern-day saintly throng.

I especially welcome comments that go deeply into the analogy of souls the internet — as visualized by Whippman and Enthoven — with the souls in Heaven — as visualized by Dante and Doré.

Whippman has a book, "America the Anxious: Why Our Search for Happiness Is Driving Us Crazy and How to Find It for Real."

And here's Tim Enthoven's Instagram page.

The President Benjamin Harrison Memorial Window.

Seen in the previous post, but I just wanted to close in on the image:



It's the Archangel Michael:



Harrison's widow commissioned Tiffany to make the window for the First Presbyterian Church, where Harrison had been an elder for 40 years.

Michael's medieval armor is — according to the wall card at the museum — intended to represent his "martial role in Heaven as a defender of God" and to refer to President Harrison's service in the Civil War.

[Harrison] commanded the brigade at the battles of Resaca, Cassville, New Hope Church, Lost Mountain, Kennesaw Mountain, Marietta, Peachtree Creek and Atlanta. When Sherman's main force began its March to the Sea, Harrison's brigade was transferred to the District of Etowah and participated in the Battle of Nashville.

Harrison was President from 1889 to 1893. He had the unique experience of defeating a President who was seeking re-election and having that man defeat him when he sought re-election. (The other President was Grover Cleveland, who is considered the 22nd and 24th President of the United States.) Harrison was also unique as the only President whose grandfather was President.

Another interesting thing about Benjamin Harrison is that 6 states joined the union in his 4 year term. That's the same number of states that joined the union in all of the years since then. 

At the Me-and-My-Angel Café...

... let your thoughts take wing.

Write about whatever you like... and consider using The Althouse Amazon Portal.

The photo, taken last Saturday, is from the Indianapolis Museum of Art. It's a Tiffany window called "Angel of the Resurrection" (or "President Benjamin Harrison Memorial Window"). I was amused at the posing for this photograph. I mean, why do it at all if you're not going to get your person standing right in front of it and having the illusion of angel wings? If you're going to be humble and little-me-off-to-the-side about it, why not get out of the way altogether?

"Are you tired of feeling alone in this crazy, mixed up world?"

Via BoingBoing.

"There is a great deal of scripture that sanctions slavery."

"You can argue that it is no longer relevant and has fallen into abeyance. ISIS would argue that these institutions need to be revived, because that is what the Prophet and his companions did."

Said Cole Bunzel, a scholar of Islamic theology at Princeton University, quoted in "ISIS Enshrines a Theology of Rape/Claiming the Quran’s support, the Islamic State codifies sex slavery in conquered regions of Iraq and Syria and uses the practice as a recruiting tool."

Also: "They laughed and jeered at us, saying ‘You are our sabaya [slave]'... He told us that Taus Malik [one of seven angels to whom the Yazidis pray] is not God. He said that Taus Malik is the devil and that because you worship the devil, you belong to us. We can sell you and use you as we see fit."

"I very much live in the now now... I mean, I have no real recollection of how I used to be..."

"... and no real interest in trying to preserve it or trying to go back there," says Richard Bandy, who woke up after surgery with no memory.

His wife has written a book about the experience of being married to a man who suddenly didn't remember their past together. She says: "His expression and experience in the hospital was nearly angelic. He was so neutral. He didn't appear like he was suffering pain at all, and he was able to write a few words, and he kind of kept writing the same questions over and over again to me."

So he became what looked to his wife like an angel and what feels to him, from the inside, like living in the now. Meanwhile, he's had to be informed of what he's done in the past:

I mean when I read it in the story — because I've read the story several times — it kind of always makes me cry, unfortunately. But — well I don't know if it's unfortunate or not. But when I read the stuff about myself and [my son] Joshua, I honestly could not believe that that had happened. I'm not sure that I actually remember, but I was physical with him. Pushed him down to the ground and pushed him out the door and that sort of thing, and, you know, was very intimidating to him, yelling at him, screaming at him, that sort of idea.

I guess he didn't have to be informed. She didn't have to write the book. If by chance, a devil becomes an angel, should the angel be told he wasn't always like this?

I'd say yes, if you want a high-quality angel. But perhaps no, if you want to protect a person who's suffered a great loss, knows it, and could be shown the mercy not adding the burden of the past, especially since he's disconnected from the past and disabled from connecting in the form of a true memory (as opposed to a memory of having heard about the thing that he doesn't directly remember).

But the son exists. Does it help the son for his father to learn what he did and (as the mother puts it) "make amends"?

Do these questions mean anything, considering that every time he learns about his past, he forgets it again, and can, at any point, opt out of the knowledge going forward? Another way of looking at it is that the wife has gone through a lot, and we shouldn't judge her for appropriating all this material to serve her interest in expression and to acquire money for the family.

Just because he woke up an angel, by chance, doesn't mean that she must herself choose to be an angel. But if she were to choose to be an angel, to match her accidentally angelic husband, should she not have written this book?

The Christmas scene at the Wisconsin Capitol today.

We were on a downtown fog-walk and stopped in to see the Christmas tree. There were carolers singing, and a rather interesting array of religious and anti-religious displays.

I had a religious experience there myself. I was scampering down the stairs as the carolers were singing "O Holy Night," and 2 steps from the bottom, I thought I'd reached the floor and took a misstep that caused me to fall on my knees exactly at the line "Fall on your knees!"

ADDED: The tree was decorated with ornaments made by school children. The assigned theme was: honoring Wisconsin veterans:

"The sensation of an otherworldly presence... actually derives from garbled sensorimotor brain signals..."

"... in which a person's self awareness of their own body is projected into a seemingly disconnected space. In such cases... the brain mis-assigns its own life signals as belonging to someone or something else."

In other words: It's not a ghost. It's not an angel. It's just you.

The Johnny Appleseed of Red Oaks.

(Link to YouTube.)

BONUS: Here's the beautiful, inspirational, and surprisingly religious 1948 Disney cartoon about Johnny Appleseed:



Things to note: 1. Beautiful graphics connecting sky to land, clouds to blooming apple trees, heaven to earth, 2. Johnny is too small and scrawny to do the manly things he sees other men doing, but his innate limitation is transformed into a powerful opportunity, with unabashed American, post-war, can-do spirit, 3. An angel depicted as an old pioneer, 4. Much displaying of the Bible, 5. Subtle acknowledgment of the fact that the most valued use of the apple was for hard cider, 6. An apple used to facilitate a sexual assault (in a kissing game, not involving Johnny), and the woman's response is a straightforward, can-do slap in the face, 7. a proto-Pepe Le Pew, 8. The Indians really enjoying life with the settlers, 9. The song, which both Meade and I remember learning as children, "The Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord," 10. Strong presentation of the work ethic, to the point where, when the angel returns to take Johnny to heaven, Johnny balks because he still has work planting apple trees, but the angel brings him along by telling him of the need for the planting of apples trees in heaven. That is, heaven is not rest after a lifetime of work, but an opportunity to continue working forever.

"The wildest cat from Montana passes by in a flash/Then a lady in a bright orange dress..."

"One U-Haul trailer, a truck with no wheels/The Tenth Avenue bus going west/The dogs and pigeons fly up and they flutter around/A man with a badge skips by/Three fellas crawlin’ on their way back to work/Nobody stops to ask why...."

A Bob Dylan lyric that crosses my mind as I'm rereading point #5 of my "10 things I might have live-blogged, if I'd blogged the State of the Union Address last night." Something about "A man took the bus home from the graveyard shift, bone-tired" — on Obama's list of characters "today in America" — made me think of Bob Dylan's list of characters — and vehicles, including a bus — in "Three Angels." Dylan's song is about this "concrete world full of souls" who never notice the  angels. Obama's text is much longer, so it's harder to say what it's "about." It has nothing about angels or other supernatural entities, other than the conventional "God," whom we're not asked to notice. He's asked to notice us: "God bless you, and God bless the United States of America. (Cheers, applause.)"

Obama does refer to "spirit," but it's the workaday can-do "spirit that has always moved this nation forward" and "the spirit of citizenship." The highest aspirations are repeatedly termed "dreams," as in that above-quoted line about the bone-tired man on the bus, which continues with the mind-reading "he's dreaming big dreams for his son." Just before the invocation of God, there's the 2-word imperative "Believe it," but the "it" is nothing religious. "It" is the "dream" of an American where "dreams" really do come true, if we keep "our eyes cast towards tomorrow." In Obama's America, we cast our eyes, aspirationally, and see, not angels, but a decent-enough job, if we work hard and take personal responsibility.



In this concrete world full of souls...

"Mandela Interpreter Says He Was Hallucinating/Says He Entered Altered State As He Took His Place on Stage."

That might excuse him, but it does not excuse whoever did the security check.

Thamsanqa Jantjie said... that as he took the stage within arms' length of Mr. Obama and other leaders at a memorial in a Johannesburg soccer stadium on Tuesday, he slipped into an altered state. He said he saw angels coming into the stadium.

"I don't know the attack of this problem, how will it come... Sometimes I get violent on that place. Sometimes I will see things chasing me."

"Family at war with cemetery over 6ft 7,000lb SpongeBob SquarePants headstones they had made for soldier daughter 'murdered by her boyfriend' on Valentine's Day."

The cemetery says it must "balance the needs of families who have just suffered a loss with the thousands of families who have entrusted us in the past" and offers to pay for "a solution...that will properly memorialize Kimberly, within the context of Spring Grove’s historic landscape and guidelines."

But the family is fighting for the garish cartoon sculptures. The murdered woman's sister says: "I thought it was the greatest thing in the cemetery. I even told the people there that I think this is the best monument I’ve ever seen. It’s the best headstone in the cemetery and they all agreed. It came out really nice."

Yes, SpongeBob seems inappropriate in a cemetery, but who is to say what characters belong? If statues of angels are permitted, someone might be offended by angels. We all have our different religions and religion-like beliefs and spiritual supports. Who's to deny this family the solace they find in SpongeBob?

(Other than Nickelodeon, which owns the trademark.)

"A height of some fifty feet above the roofs of Rome gives me all the advantages that I could get from fifty miles of distance."

"The air so exhilarates my spirits, that sometimes I feel half inclined to attempt a flight from the top of my tower, in the faith that I should float upward," said Hilda.

"O, pray don’t try it!" said Miriam laughing. "If it should turn out that you are less than an angel, you would find the stones of the Roman pavement very hard; and if an angel, indeed, I am afraid you would never come down among us again.” 

This young American girl was an example of the freedom of life which it is possible for a female artist to enjoy at Rome. She dwelt in her tower, as free to descend into the corrupted atmosphere of the city beneath, as one of her companion doves to fly downward into the street;— all alone, perfectly independent, under her own sole guardianship, unless watched over by the Virgin, whose shrine she tended; doing what she liked without a suspicion or a shadow upon the snowy whiteness of her fame. The customs of artist life bestow such liberty upon the sex, which is elsewhere restricted within so much narrower limits; and it is perhaps an indication that, whenever we admit women to a wider scope of pursuits and professions, we must also remove the shackles of our present conventional rules, which would then become an insufferable restraint on either maid or wife.

From Nathaniel Hawthorne's "Marble Faun."