NYT Sunday

There’s an awesome paragraph I’ll use in my history classes this week as a way of addressing notions of progress. Are things always getting better? Where does this idea come from? What would happen if we replace postwar (first sentence) with American?

The rosy and long-lived postwar belief that the world is generally stable and generally improving has always been in many respects an illusion of the privileged. But it’s beginning to falter, even for us. To live in our present moment is to discover, over and over, that much of what we have imagined to be solid and permanent is in fact fragile. Notre Dame is an icon, but its roof was held up by regular wood, old and dry and quick to light. American democracy is susceptible to frauds and demagogues. The value of your house can suddenly disappear; the global economic system works only to the extent that we all continue to agree that it does; and the complex web of production and commerce that brings us nearly everything we depend on to live is occasionally revealed to be deeply, alarmingly brittle.

Brooke Jarvis, Why do hoax videos proliferate when disaster strikes? 09222019

Found my old Union shirt

I’d written “better to die on your feet than live on your knees” on it.

That was eighteen years ago.

This is closer to where I am now:

Now some may want to die young, man
Young and gloriously
Get it straight now mister
Hey buddy that ain’t me
‘Cause I got something on my mind
That sets me straight and walkin’ proud
And I want all the time
All that heaven will allow.

Bruce Springsteen, 1988. Like the lyrics more than the recording.

Here’s another version, this time with Kate Atkinson’s Jackson Brodie talking to a man with a gun:

“You know,” he said conversationally — they might have been two blokes in the pub — “when I was in the army there were some guys who said they’d rather die in combat — go down fighting — than live out their four score and ten. Trudge through it, ” he added with a little laugh. “And I never understood how they could think like that.”

“And now you do?”

“Yeah, I bet that’s how you think, too.”

“No,” Jackson said. “Once upon a time, maybe, but not now. Personally, I’m happy to trudge to the end . I’d like to meet my grandchildren. Put the gun down, Vince.”