Evolution

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T.H. Huxley believed in the precept that magna est veritas et prævalebit — truth is great and will prevail.

“Truth is great, certainly,” he wrote, “but, considering her greatness, it is curious what a long time she is apt to take about prevailing.”

(From Evidence as to Man’s Place in Nature, 1863.)

Horology

Terms for times of day in the reckoning of the Malagasy people of Madagascar, from missionary James Sibree’s 1915 book A Naturalist in Madagascar:

midnight: centre of night; halving of night
2:00 a.m.: frog croaking
3:00 a.m.: cock-crowing
4:00 a.m.: morning also night
5:00 a.m.: crow croaking
5:15 a.m.: bright horizon; reddish east; glimmer of day
5:30 a.m.: colors of cattle can be seen; dusk; diligent people awake; early morning
6:00 a.m.: sunrise; daybreak; broad daylight
6:15 a.m.: dew-falls; cattle go out (to pasture)
6:30 a.m.: leaves are dry (from dew)
6:45 a.m.: hoar-frost disappears; the day chills the mouth
8:00 a.m.: advance of the day
9:00 a.m.: over the purlin
noon: over the ridge of the roof
12:30 p.m.: day taking hold of the threshold
1:00 p.m.: peeping-in of the day; day less one step
1:30–2:00 p.m.: slipping of the day
2:00 p.m.: decline of the day; at the rice-pounding place; at the house post
3:00 p.m.: at the place of tying the calf
4:00 p.m.: at the sheep or poultry pen
4:30 p.m.: the cow newly calved comes home
5:00 p.m.: sun touching (i.e. the eastern wall)
5:30 p.m.: cattle come home
5:45 p.m.: sunset flush
6:00 p.m.: sunset (literally, “sun dead”)
6:15 p.m.: fowls come in
6:30 p.m.: dusk; twilight
6:45 p.m.: edge of rice-cooking pan obscure
7:00 p.m.: people begin to cook rice
8:00 p.m.: people eat rice
8:30 p.m.: finished eating
9:00 p.m.: people go to sleep
9:30 p.m.: everyone in bed
10:00 p.m.: gun-fire

Native houses were built with their length running north-south and a single door and window facing west, so they served as rude sundials: By 9 a.m. the sun was nearly square with the eastern purlin of the roof, and at noon it stood over the ridge pole. As the afternoon advanced it peered in at the door and its light crept eastward across the floor, touching successively the rice-mortar, the central posts where the calf was fastened for the night, and finally the eastern wall.

By the People

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Think of democracy as a machine. At fixed intervals, the preferences of individual citizens are fed into the machine, and it aggregates them and produces a “choice” of its own. Democratic rule is achieved if, when the machine isn’t working, its most recent choice is acted upon.

“The question now arises: What is the authority of the choice expressed by the machine?” writes philosopher Richard Wollheim. “More specifically, why should someone who has fed his choice into the machine and then is confronted by the machine with a choice non-identical with his own, feel any obligation to accept it?”

(Richard Wollheim, “A Paradox in the Theory of Democracy,” in Peter Laslett and W.G. Runciman, eds., Philosophy, Politics and Society, Second Series: A Collection, 1962.)

First Things First

The ancients who wished to illustrate illustrious virtue throughout the kingdom, first ordered well their own states. Wishing to order well their states, they first regulated their families. Wishing to regulate their families, they first cultivated their persons. Wishing to cultivate their persons, they first rectified their hearts. Wishing to rectify their hearts, they first sought to be sincere in their thoughts. Wishing to be sincere in their thoughts, they first extended to the utmost their knowledge. Such extension of knowledge lay in the investigation of things.

Things being investigated, knowledge became complete. Their knowledge being complete, their thoughts were sincere. Their thoughts being sincere, their hearts were then rectified. Their hearts being rectified, their persons were cultivated. Their persons being cultivated, their families were regulated. Their families being regulated, their states were rightly governed. Their states being rightly governed, the whole kingdom was made tranquil and happy.

— Confucius, The Great Learning, 500 B.C.E

The Soiled Dove Plea

One morning in 1899, accused Oklahoma prostitute Minnie Stacey was scheduled for trial when the judge found that she had neither an attorney nor the money to hire one. Attorney Temple Lea Houston agreed to defend her and delivered this speech extemporaneously:

Gentlemen of the jury: You heard with what cold cruelty the prosecution referred to the sins of this woman, as if her condition were of her own preference. The evidence has painted you a picture of her life and surroundings. Do you think that they were embraced of her own choosing? Do you think that she willingly embraced a life so revolting and horrible? Ah, no! Gentlemen, one of our own sex was the author of her ruin, more to blame than she.

Then let us judge her gently. What could be more pathetic than the spectacle she presents? An immortal soul in ruin! Where the star of purity once glittered on her girlish brow, burning shame has set its seal and forever. And only a moment ago, they reproached her for the depths to which she had sunk, the company she kept, the life she led. Now, what else is left her? Where can she go and her sin not pursue her? Gentlemen, the very promises of God are denied her. He said: ‘Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.’ She has indeed labored, and is heavily laden, but if, at this instant she were to kneel before us all and confess to her Redeemer and beseech His tender mercies, where is the church that would receive her? And even if they accepted her, when she passed the portals to worship and to claim her rest, scorn and mockery would greet her; those she met would gather around them their spirits the more closely to avoid the pollution of her touch. And would you tell me a single employment where she can realize ‘Give us our daily bread?’

Our sex wrecked her once pure life. Her own sex shrink from her as they would the pestilence. Society has reared its relentless walls against her, and only in the friendly shelter of the grave can her betrayed and broken heart ever find the Redeemer’s promised rest.

They told you of her assumed names, as fleeting as the shadows on the walls, of her sins, her habits, but they never told you of her sorrows, and who shall tell what her heart, sinful though it may be, now feels? When the remembered voices of mother and sisters, whom she must see no more on this earth, fall again like music on her erring soul, and she prays God that she could only return, and must not — no — not in this life, for the seducer has destroyed the soul.

You know the story of the prodigal son, but he was a son. He was one of us, like her destroyers; but for the prodigal daughter there is no return. Were she with her wasted form and bleeding feet to drag herself back to home, she, the fallen and the lost, which would be her welcome? Oh, consider this when you come to decide her guilt, for she is before us and we must judge her. They (the prosecution) sneer and scoff at her. One should respect her grief, and I tell you that there reigns over her penitent and chastened spirit a desolation now that none, no, none but the Searcher of all hearts can ever know.

None of us are utterly evil, and I remember that when the Saffron Scourge swept over the city of Memphis in 1878, a courtesan there opened wide the doors of her gilded palace of sin to admit the sufferers, and when the scythe of the Reaper swung fast and pitiless, she was angelic in her ministering. Death called her in the midst of her mercies, and she went to join those she tried to save. She, like those the Lord forgave, was a sinner, and yet I believe that in the days of reckoning her judgment will be lighter than those who would prosecute and seek to drive off the earth such poor unfortunates as her whom you are to judge.

They wish to fine this woman and make her leave. They wish to wring from the wages of her shame the price of this meditated injustice; to take from her the little money she might have — and God knows, gentlemen, it came hard enough. The old Jewish law told you that the price of a dog, nor the hire of such as she, should come not within the house of the Lord, and I say unto you that our justice, fitly symbolized by this woman’s form, does not ask that you add to the woes of this unhappy one, one only asks at your hands the pitiful privilege of being left alone.

The Master, while on Earth, while He spake in wrath and rebuke to the kings and rulers, never reproached one of these. One he forgave. Another he acquitted. You remember both — and now looking upon this friendless outcast, if any of you can say to her, ‘I am holier than thou’ in the respect which she is charged with sinning, who is he? The Jews who brought the woman before the Savior have been held up to execution for two thousand years. I always respected them. A man who will yield to the reproaches of his conscience as they did has the element of good in him, but the modern hypocrite has no such compunctions. If the prosecutors of the woman whom you are trying had brought her before the Savior, they would have accepted His challenge and each one gathered a rock and stoned her, in the twinkling of an eye. No, Gentlemen, do as your Master did twice under the same circumstances that surround you. Tell her to go in peace.

The all-male jury voted to acquit Stacey as soon as they reached the jury room. Some trial attorneys still cite Houston’s “plea for a fallen woman” as the perfect closing argument.

“A Matter of Method”

A Philosopher seeing a Fool beating his Donkey, said:

‘Abstain, my son, abstain, I implore. Those who resort to violence shall suffer from violence.’

‘That,’ said the Fool, diligently belaboring the animal, ‘is what I’m trying to teach this beast — which has kicked me.’

‘Doubtless,’ said the Philosopher to himself, as he walked away, ‘the wisdom of fools is no deeper nor truer than ours, but they really do seem to have a more impressive way of imparting it.’

— Ambrose Bierce, Fantastic Fables, 1899

In a Word

ergophobia
n. an aversion to work

isolato
n. a person who is physically or spiritually isolated from their times or society

hebetate
v. to make dull or obtuse

suspiration
n. a long, deep sigh

Drawn from the last line of a 1951 poem by Pierre Béarn, the French phrase métro, boulot, dodo describes the monotony of workday life: Métro refers to a subway commute, boulot is an informal word for work, and dodo is baby talk for sleep.

Anna Kaloustian wrote in the Yale Herald, “No English expression manages to quite grasp its prosaic implication, its banality.”

Great and Small

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One could not think of Aristotle or Beethoven multiplying 3,472,701 by 99,999 without making a mistake, nor could one think of him remembering the range of this or that railway share for two years, or the number of ten-penny nails in a hundred weight, or the freight on lard from Galveston to Rotterdam. And by the same token one could not imagine him expert at billiards, or at grouse-shooting, or at golf, or at any other of the idiotic games at which what are called successful men commonly divert themselves. In his great study of British genius, Havelock Ellis found that an incapacity for such petty expertness was visible in almost all first rate men. They are bad at tying cravats. They do not understand the fashionable card games. They are puzzled by book-keeping. They know nothing of party politics. In brief, they are inert and impotent in the very fields of endeavour that see the average men’s highest performances, and are easily surpassed by men who, in actual intelligence, are about as far below them as the Simidae.

— H.L. Mencken, In Defense of Women, 1918

Dispatches

“A Time-Series Analysis of My Girlfriend’s Mood Swings”

“Behavioral Conditioning Methods to Stop My Boyfriend From Playing The Witcher 3”

“Sub-Nyquist Sampling While Listening to My Girlfriend”

“Who Should Do the Dishes? A Transportation Problem Solution”

“Freudian Psychoanalysis of My Boyfriend’s Gun Collection”

“Breaking Up With Your Girlfriend but Not Your Friends: A Cyclic Graph Algorithm for Social Network Preservation”

“The Future of Romance: Novel Techniques for Replacing Your Boyfriend With Generative AI”

“Winning Tiffany Back: How to Defeat an AI Boyfriend”

“Would He Still Love Me as a Worm: Indirect Sampling and Inference Techniques for Romantic Assurance”

Via r/ImmaterialScience.

Gatherings

“I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.” — Jordan Baker in The Great Gatsby

“At any gathering I always feel as though I am the youngest person in the room.” — W.H. Auden

“The difference between what is commonly called ordinary company and good company, is only hearing the same things said in a little room or in a large saloon, at small tables or at great tables, before two candles or twenty sconces.” — Pope, Thoughts on Various Subjects, 1727