Political epicaricacy...again

I don't know about the rest of the US, but here in Chicago we are experiencing horrible incivility, with both parties, in this campaign. When the elections are over, I am sure both sides will experience epicaricacy. But I hope they also experience severe remorse at how they've handled themselves.

I did find the following comment by a Democrat at a get-out-the-vote rally rather funny...sad, but funny. The politician is a state senator, and I agree the person he was ranting about (a Republican nominee for Governor and an ex-state senator) is to the right of Rush Limbaugh, but still, a little civility is in order, people! Here's what the state senator said at the public rally:

"I've never served served with such an idiotic, racist, sexist, homophobic person in my life. If you think that the minimum wage needs to be three dollars an hour, vote for Bill Brady. If you think that women have no rights whatsoever, except to have his children, vote for Bill Brady. If you think gay and lesbian people need to be locked up and shot in the head, vote for Bill Brady."

He refused to apologize, saying, "If he can show me that he votes differently than what I said, I will apologize. But I know he can't say that. I know he can't." Somehow I don't think Brady said that gay and lesbians should be shot in the head, do you?

For now...the billionaires have their epicaricacy

There was an insightful article in the NY Times by Frank Rich today: Link

While the Tea Partiers are describing themselves as "grass roots," clearly they aren't. From the article: "In a typical example just three weeks ago, the influential publication National Journal delivered a breathless report on how the Tea Party functions as a “headless” movement where “no one gives orders.” To prove the point, a head of the headless Tea Party Patriots vouched that “75 percent of the group’s funding comes from small donations, $20 or less.” And then: "Last week the same Tea Party Patriots leader who bragged to the National Journal about all those small donations announced a $1 million gift from a man she would identify only as an entrepreneur. The donor’s hidden identity speaks even louder than the size of the check. As long as we don’t know who he is, we won’t know what orders he’s giving either"

Let's face it. These Tea Partiers are a bunch of media savvy Republicans who want Bush's tax cuts to continue and don't want Obama to increase taxes on the miserably rich. They need their billions to live on. To hell with children with no health care or with the homeless elderly. They're taking care of their kids and their relatives. They deserve it all. What self-centered fools they all are. Here's one example, though he doesn't have billions; still, he can't live on more than $250,000 per year with a family of four.

For now, the Tea Partiers and Republicans are laughing epicaricacially. But just wait. When they get in and don't do anything, the tide will turn. This is American politics doubled in spades.

The Transfiguration of the Commonplace

A friend recommended Arthur Danto's "The Transfiguration of the Commonplace: A Philosophy of Art," which is a scholarly book about the age-old question: What is art? It's a typical philosophy book that gets down to agonizing detail on questions, but I've picked up some insights, such as art being a mirror of reality. Perhaps that's why some of the more ugly or plain contemporary art (like Tracey Emin's Unmade Bed or the plain black canvas surrounded by a frame that I've seen at the Art Institute) have crept into the art scene. So far, and I am not finished with the book, I haven't quite figured out why one piece like that is art, and why another isn't. To be continued...

Art revisited

At the risk of boring the world, here is yet another conversation, on OEDILF, about the perennial "What is art?" discussion.

Another Epicaricacy Blog

Well, well. Another similar Blog has just been started: My Epicaricacy Blog. Before long our dear friend, John Simpson, will include the word in the OED. I just know he will. What then? What will I have to complain about? I guess there's always politics. Or the "What is art?" question. Bad beer. My kids/husband. My work. The Cubs. The weather. Oh, yeah. There will be lots of things.

And again...

I had the pleasure of touring the Portland Art Museum today, and it is much better than I had ever expected. There were a number of impressionists there, including some pieces from Renoir and Monet that I'd never seen. I had no idea that Renoir had sculptures (one of Rodin). Two Renoirs, two girls reading and one of the Seine, were exceptional. I hadn't realized, until this museum visit, that Sisley is considered to be British. I've always considered him to be French, and he does have a huge French influence in his art. And I was introduced to the American impressionist, Childe Hassam, whom I love! I also saw a great Picasso sculpture and von Gogh's "The Ox Cart," which is fabulous.

However, I also saw a few pieces that were, well, not art in my humble opinion. One was this big painting of large strokes of red and white paint. That's it. I don't know how anyone could ever like that one. Yet, the artist saw it as "art" so I guess Bob's definition holds for it. I do become confused, from time to time, on this question of what art is.

Canine Epicaricacy

My daughter has been living with us for a few months...with her cat. KC is half Siamese and really lovable and cute. But, Flirt, our Border Collie, does not like cats. When KC first moved in, they'd go at it...a lot! However, it became less and less, until now they essentially ignore each other and parallel play. Flirt keeps an eye on KC, though KC couldn't give a rip what Flirt does. Similarly, Flirt has a huge guilty conscience, while KC doesn't know the definition of guilt. The stage is set for the following story:

KC loves to get under the covers when I make the bed. At first, when I'd tell KC to "Get off the bed," Flirt, who was watching, would slink away, thinking it was she. That went on for awhile...until Flirt figured out that I was talking to the cat in that stern voice. Aha. Then Flirt's attitude changed. She rather liked my chasing the cat off the bed. She actually had a sort of "dog smile" on her face. I call it canine epicaricacy.