Continued travails in Swedish: Social Realism

Three days in a row it’s been 10ºC and sunny in Stockholm. Three days in a row all the Swedes I know have tittered in unison about the coming of daylight savings time. March 30 this year.But they reserve their widest smiles for when they tap me on the elbow and tell me, again, how wonderful those outdoor cafés will be… in May.

To better understand such ebullience at a mere turn in the weather, it helps to read a Swedish grammar exercise book. Exercise books in other languages deal with such innocuous topics as the color of one’s pencil. My exercise book has taken it upon itself Första övningsboken i svensk grammatik, by Gunnar Hellström © 1994. I heartily recommend it. By far the best of its kind.to prepare us immigrants for the Lutheran take on life:

Jag får inte börja jobba. Jag har inget arbetstillstånd.

~ I am not allowed to work. I don’t have a work permit.

Ta det lugnt, mormor! Doktorn kommer snart här.

~ Shut up, grandma! The doctor will soon be here.

När tänker du betala tillbaka pengarna som du lånat?

~ When are you thinking of paying me back the money you borrowed?

Min mamma har cancer och tror att hon kommer att dö.

~ My mother has cancer and she thinks she’s about to die.

Those last two sentences are meant to illustrate that Swedes have 3 lexemes for the verb to think,

Not to be confused with morphemes.much like eskimos have 15 lexemes to describe their wealth of experience with snow. If you think you might die (belief), you tror. If you’re thinking of suicide (intent), you tänker, and if you think dying would be nice (opinion), you tycker. Choose the wrong verb, and your fear of death turns into a deathwish. Who said Swedish was easy?

A blog on both your houses

WWII was brought home via the radio. Vietnam via TV. Gulf War I via live TV. Gulf War II will be blogged.

We’ve had the war blogs, and then the anti-war blogs, and now the meta-war blogs, and these will all shift into high gear a week or two from now in an orgy of point and counterpoint and I-told-you-sos and last words. But the most interesting posts will come from blogs on the ground. Kevin Sites, a CNN foreign correspondent covering the war, started his blog 4 days ago, and so far all of it has been riveting reading.

Of course, blogging from inside the warzone could come to a screeching halt with a single use of the fabled electromagnetic pulse bomb.Chance of this being used in Iraq: 80% I think. Barring that, we could be in for some interesting color.

And sound. Latest innovation in the blogosphere is audioblogging, whereby you call in your post to your Blogger.com-powered siteThe site promises to support other engines, including Movable Type, soon. and your visitors can listen to the audio. The likely success of this meme among arm-chair bloggers is questionable, but for those personal publishers in the field, far from internet access but close to a phone and with something urgent to say, this makes all the sense in the world. It is the marriage of radio’s immediacy with the internet’s scalability, and makes potential radio broadcasters of us all.

From radio in WWII to radio in GWII: The wheel turns full circle. Oh dear, just noticed GWII could also stand for the current Prez. Guess this war will indeed define his presidency.

In search of the European blog

I was all ready with my thesis as to why there are no blogs in Europe, why nobody here even knows what a blog is, when I decided I should perhaps search for the odd French or Italian blog just to prove my point. I now regret this bout of empiricism. A day’s worth of euroblogging later, my theories lie in shambles.

I will now have to write about why the Anglophone world doesn’t know about European blogs. But because I am my own worst editor, and this is my blog, you first get to read all about my reasons why there are no blogs in Europe. I’ll be brief…

  • Biased European papers: European papers are biased. Unlike in the US, there is no Chinese wall between the op-ed pages and hard news. But this is a a selling point; you know that if you read De Morgen you will see the world from a socialist perspective. A typical article in Corriere della Sera or Le Figaro is a long meandering affair, where the reporter doubles as opinion leader, admittedly in love with his own self importance, taking on the hauteurs of an auteur, not above the personal jab, or shamelessly tilting the perspective to suit his agenda. But does this description not fit Andrew Sullivan like a glove? Yes, European papers are paper blogs, and have been so for ages. Hence, went one of my theories, European blogs face stiffer competition from established brands of opinion mongering. And the brands make sure their offerings are edited, and because the reporters are paid, you can expect quality.

  • Languages used to access Google.
    Source: Google Zeitgeist.
    Language: English is the lingua franca of the current age, English is understood by far more people than other European languages, including Spanish or Portuguese. This makes writing in English potentially much more rewarding than any other language. Is this kind of network effect not a disincentive to blogging in French?
  • Culture: Are there cultural differences at work? Are Europeans less prone to exercising their freedom of speech? Or, more kindly, are they less likely to feel the need to foist their narcissistic little lives on others? Do they possess the prudence of those who know they know nothing, a trait middle America is painfully lacking?
  • Technology: Perhaps Europeans are just the usual 3 years behind in adopting a new technology. In which case, they should discover blogging just… about… now.
  • We think Europeans don’t blog because we don’t read their blogs. We can’t read their blogs. It’s the language barrier, stupid. Yet blogging is done by educated elites and schoolkids on both sides of the Atlantic — and not by anybody else. There are fewer blogs in all of West Virginia than in the West Village; this I am sure of. Much as we wish it to be true, blogging is not as ubiquitous as TV, neither in the US nor in Europe. We build blogs, but only other bloggers come.

    I start my tour with the Francophone equivalent of the Bloggies: Les Blogs d’Or. The cynic in me immediately hones in on the categories. Best Belgian blog? But only if it’s in French? Potverdekke. No chance of blog@stefangeens.com competing. I delve into the current event blogs category. The quality is very high, but I am eventually reminded of I first read this essay in his book Mortal Questions. Gist: No amount of reductionist gymnastics is really ever going to really let us know “the subjective character of experience” of being a bat. Why a bat? Any animal will do, but bats have sonar, and Nagel hammers home his point by asking you if you can really know what it is like to be that animal if you cannot even perceive the world as it does.

    Thomas Nagel’s famous essay, What is it like to be a bat? These blogs have a different taste, a different feel, one that i suspect would not survive translation. And then it occurs to me that the entirety of Anglophone blogs have a different such subjective character of experience too.

    This is the best I can do to explain: A language’s blogs collectively tend to have similar assumptions about what the reader brings to the blog, and these assumptions in turn are distinct from those of blogs in other languages. Francophones seem more able to widthstand long, navel gazing neo-Baudelarian rants Francophone blogs also have a penchant for really small text. Maybe it’s because they have low res monitors still…by authors who have themselves photographed smoking cigarettes. Italians are more pragmatic; and their posts tend to be far shorter, and more concerned with media personalities than anything else.

    But in one way Italian blogs are much more accessible. Italian blogs do a far better job of linking to familiar Anglophone sites in addition to their homegrown offerings, Before you bash the French, tell me how many links to French blogs your site has.while the French seem to be more autonomous in their linking.

    I think I will go survey Swedish blogs next. An early entrant, a runner-up in the Bloggies no less, is How to learn Swedish in 1000 difficult lessons.

    I would love to hear of any favorite non-English blogs you frequently read.

    Obligatory meta-content post…

    No posts for over a month because in my mind, BLOG@STEFANGEENS.COM had aquired lame-duck status qua design. This involves a non-trivial amount of manual labor porting over comments, as well as media, and it is not yet done, so no complaining if your acid-lined gems of old have temporarily disappeared.
     
    Also check out Text Pattern, another promising content management system for blogs.
    Ever since I had decided I was going to change my content management engine from Blogger to Movable Type I saw little use for adding new writing to a soon-to-be obsolete system. Also, I needed a break. Not from blogging, but from the constraints that the blogging format was beginning to impose on me — or so I felt.

    So I redesigned the site. Site design is to me what I imagine gardening is to some people. It just pleases me to do it.

    For this latest iteration of BLOG@STEFANGEENS.COM, I decided to focus on readability. Specifically, I hankered after the simplicity of the page in a book: black, serifed text on white space. My inspiration came from Robert Bringhurst’s excellent The Elements of Typographic Style, which has become the typographer’s bible since it was first published 10 years ago. Question: What is the ideal amount of characters on a line of text? Answer: 66It is an immense pleasure to read, because it constantly practices what it preaches.

    But Elements gave me another idea. It uses marginalia copiously, to great effect. For the web, marginalia seems a natural addition: It breaks off from the narrative’s one-dimensional thread, but does not quite amount to the radical break of a link. It’s an extra half dimension of freedom, allowing short diversions that would otherwise be heaved into brackets, distracting from the flow of the text.

    1.618034… or 1 plus the square root of 5, divided by 2.How wide to make the marginalia? I went with the Golden Mean, that naturally pleasing ratio. We’ll see if it works. This site will need a few weeks to mature yet. But welcome back in the meantime. I have plenty to write about.

    The new art of flightblogging,

    Wherein you blog whatever you deem worth mentioning during a battery’s worth of computer time between London and New York despite critical faculties seriously compromised by the first gin-and-tonics in a few years, which were drunk solely to discover whether the umbilical cord within me tying gin to cigarettes that survived my quitting (cigarettes, ostensibly) has finally withered. Such research into the pavlovian constraints within which I live is a worthwile cause, as I expect my two-week trip to New York to be greatly enhanced should I find a newly regained tolerance for gin sans cigarettes.

    Well, it’s 2 hours later and the experiment did not go as planned. I first had a vodka and tonic, since every good scientific experiment needs to establish a baseline, and I wanted to make sure that it was not the tonic that would be causing cravings. Tonic it was not, and flush with empirical certitude I asked for my first gins. Just then, however, Sweet Home Alabama started playing on the in-flight entertainment system, and for the next two hours I was completely distracted by a comic masterpiece, snarfing down pre-chewed beef McNuggets and emitting huge braying noises of recognition which my small polite Japanese neighbor no doubt put down to me being American.

    For Reese Witherspoon is a comic genius. A genius in any case, since I do not believe that anybody can exhibit such comic timing without lots of self-knowledge, or at least the capacity to recognize a great script. And I know whereof I speak—Some of the best weddings I have ever been to have involved liberal doses of “hickness”; Matthew and Kim’s in Oregon, of course, but there was one especially resonant of this film: Zach and Julia’s wedding in Dothan, Alabama, in 1999, replete with rowdy bars, north-meets-south creative tension and, of course, the relatives. The wedding band’s story was pre-blogged here—and the pictures are here. In addition, one of the Dothan bars we ended up at was full of frat boys and girls stumbling to a local band, and—none too sober myself—I posed as a Life Magazine photographer and took lots of shots of strangers being proud to show off Southern life to Life. I have the negatives back in Stockholm—I think I shall scan them when I get back home.

    Alabama is where the Scrabble craze started. Itay and I had played a few exceedingly mediocre games in the back of St. Dymphna’s pub on St Marks. They would take hours, as neither of us had any inkling of what a real game entailed. Zach’s grandmother finished us both off in a quick 20-minute rout, played off-the-cuff as we were waiting for the bus from the lodge to the wedding reception. I remember putting “zoot” down, as in “zoot suit,” which she challenged right off the board on account of it being a “Zoot suit,” and hence not a noun. Annoyed, I later challenged her “zein,” which of course was a word, and how, as it is a Scrabble favorite for getting rid of the Z. Two challenges behind, I had no hope of recovering, and she did not hide her disappointment at playing such amateurs. It is thanks to her that our eyes were opened to the immense creativity Scrabble can provide, and the length of the road we still had to travel.

    Sweet Home Alabama, to regain my thread, is not perfect. There is an element of wishful thinking when it comes to inclusion for gays (and blacks) in small-town Alabama (and Oregon). The movie’s idea that the tolerance New York is famed for can be gained in outback Alabama by an evening of drunken sincerity folowed by a pat on the back is, alas, belabored, for New York reached its present enlightened state through a lot more strife than that.

    And plotwise (this is a minor point but a point none-the-less) I think SHA manages to get away with maximum denouement with minimal audience guilt by, well, cheating. the New York groom-to-be obligingly stays out of most of the picture, and he turns out to crave rejection. It’s almost Shakespearian in its contrivance. Oh, wait, that’s a good thing, right?

    Actually, it’s not just the contrivance that is Shakespearian; the message is a modern variation on the Shakespearian comedy. For while the movie starts with an engagement and professional recognition, it posits that there is a longer road to be travelled before reaching happiness, though this happiness very much entails marriage (or a reappraisal of an old marriage, hence the modern twist).

    The key to Sweet Home Alabama lies in it being a paean to true love and first loves. It’s a fundamentally idealistic notion, often misconstrued as conservatism by New Yorkers and Europeans. And SHA takes these cynics to task for such a misapprehension—they are put through the comic wringer for this sin of omission, and it is Southerners that come out of it as the wiser ones.

    But it is a punishment New Yorkers (and the New York groom, and New York audiences, and European audiences) seem to submit to all too willingly, and I think it is because a favorite fantasy of cynics is to actually regain such innocence.

    So, we’ve established that SHA is a movie in which both city and country Americans can recognize each other. But there is one more thought to get out before the gin-fog descends on this post. Well, it’s a question, really: How do Europeans square their love of these essential American virtues with their disdain for American politics? It’s clear to anyone who has ventured from either American coast that the very same Americans so lauded in European movie theaters for their cultural ebullience voted for Bush in the last elections.

    Europeans love Americans but not American politics. Granted, I’ve met several Europeans who at least are consistent on the matter, rejecting American films and music in the same breath as its politics. But for most Europeans it is a paradox, and it is a paradox, I fear, of their own making. And one I haven’t quite resolved myself.

    Oh and I love the end credits. Expect to see them pilfered for my next amateur short film.

    Tired trade tirade rated, go loon? (6)

    There is something that bugs me about articulate people who get things profoundly wrong. Perhaps it is because I normally associate the ability to say something well with having something to say.

    Naomi Klein bugs me for this reason. But her transgressions are all the more apparent for her newly minted status as The Nation‘s replacement columnist for Christopher Hitchens. Hitch famously fled for more rational pages, so perhaps it is telling to see Klein at The Nation now.

    In her inaugural column, Klein invites comparison to her predecessor by opening with an anti-Clinton screed. This, of course, is a game perfected by Hitchens, but he never broached the topic without first having a point and a purpose. Klein has neither. In three short paragraphs an off-the-cuff remark by Hillary Clinton blooms into premeditated fear mongering in the cause of an aggressive regionalist trade stance. You’d be forgiven for thinking Hillary herself fabricated the hoax she referred to.

    None of this has anything to do with the main thrust of her article, which is that regional trade agreements (or Preferred Trade Agreements, PTAs) are bad. She happens to be right, but only on this narrow point and for reasons opposite to those she argues. Regionalism, whether expressed through NAFTA or EFTA or Mercosur, is a sub-par trading strategy. In their current form, these trade agreements lead mainly to trade diversion, which amounts to protectionism for larger regions. PTAs are only useful insofar that they are building blocks to true multilateralism — where there are no trade barriers whatsoever.

    Klein, however, dislikes regionalism because it is not protectionist enough. Not that she would ever tell you outright — the closest she comes to admitting this sentiment is in her rendition of a conspiracy the rest of us are either too stupid to notice or else part of:

    “First you expand the perimeter [of a trading bloc]. Then you lock down.”

    Our differences are this: I have a problem with locking down. But Klein has a problem with expanding the perimeter in the first place.

    Klein’s argument falters at the very beginning, when she lumps “free-market economists” in with military strategists and politicians as the bugbears of “Fortress NAFTA”. I can’t speak for the latter two groups, but if by “free-market economists” she means the ones that work at the World Bank, IMF and WTO, and such notable ones as Jagdish Bhagwati, then she is being dishonest. For this group is among the most aware of the shortcomings of PTAs.

    These shortcomings are not the ones Klein lists, however. She objects to including Mexico into NAFTA and Eastern European countries into the EU on the grounds that they are being exploited:

    But if a continent is serious about being a fortress, it also has to invite one or two poor countries within its walls, because somebody has to do the dirty work and heavy lifting.

    And why would they agree to such a scheme? Apparently, these countries realize that it is better to be exploited than not:

    For locked-out continents, even their cheap labor isn’t needed, and their countries are left to beg outside the gates for a half-decent price for wheat and bananas.

    The shocking notion that perhaps, just perhaps, Mexico is exploiting the US, and Slovakia the EU, even just a little bit, does not seem to occur to Klein. But how could it not? The very foundation of trade theory is that all countries benefit from trade, even if the terms of trade are not equal. Counterintuitive at first blush, perhaps, but hardly controversial.

    Who could possibly object, besides Klein? Trade alters opportunities for workers everywhere, but such change is not always welcomed by those who see their opportunities diminished — not the poor unskilled workers in the developing world, of course, but the rich unskilled workers in developed countries’ trade unions. And students with po-mo skills, unmarketable in any economy. These, then, are her partners in ideology. Some of them, I hesitate to note, ardent Clinton loyalists.

    Klein’s other beef is with the notion of more secure borders. One would think that in her eagerness to protect poor would-be immigrants from landing low-paid jobs inside trade blocs, she’d applaud a secure border, so as to save them from their deluded selves. It would have been better to point out, as Bhagwati has done, that it is nigh impossible to stop economic migration, and that the best solution is to develop a coping strategy. Klein also glosses over a major problem with her “Fortress NAFTA,” described as “a continental security perimeter stretching from Mexico’s southern border to Canada’s northern one.” A security perimeter on Canada’s northern border? How exactly? NAFTA itself is in part a coping strategy for the flood of illegal Mexican labor into the US. If you can’t beat them, join them.

    Klein’s moral outrage depends on a Marxian explanation for the emergence of PTAs — they are inevitable because of the dynamics of capitalism, whereby rich countries need to exploit poor countries. Her outing of the “social hierarchy” of the EU is quite galling:

    Inside Fortress Europe, France and Germany are the nobility, and lesser powers like Spain and Portugal are the sentinels. Poland, Bulgaria, Hungary and the Czech Republic are the postmodern serfs, providing the low-wage factories where clothes, electronics and cars are produced for 20-25 percent of what it would cost to make them in Western Europe–the EU’s own maquiladoras.

    But to make her point stick, Klein has to forget that most PTAs in existence are by developing countries, for developing countries: Mercosur, ECOWAS, SAPTA, CACM, LAFTA, CARICOM, ACS, ASEAN, GCC, SACU, CBI… and others. It would be quite the coincidence that PTAs only become exploitative when one or more members are rich.

    In fact, in the case of the EU, Klein’s “nobility” are responsible for net cash injections into the economies of the “sentinels” and “serfs”. Some sentinel economies, such as Catalonia, are richer than the nobility, while the serfs have some of the fastest-growing economies in the world, with productivity growth to match. The only people complaining are Klein and French farmers, who fear for their livelihood now that Eastern European farmers are being exploited so.

    The worst is that there is nothing that these European “social engineers” can do to please Klein. She admits to no empirical test that would determine the truth or otherwise of her assertions. For example, let us fast-forward to when the EU admits Turkey. Guess which version of events Klein will subscribe to: Is it proof that the EU is not a fortress after all but instead genuinely interested in the mutual benefits of free trade with more and more countries? Or, is Europe merely letting another poor country into the enclosure, to be exploited? I dare Klein to argue that the popularity of EU accession among Turks should not be misconstrued as an indication of who stands to gain.

    If it was up to me, of course, there would be no tariffs, no quotas, and free movement of labor for all. It is a pipedream, somewhat, because the rich world fears the destabilizing effect of the coming surge of cheap and productive labor. Naomi, it’s not that the poor are exploited; it’s that the rich are overpaid.

    Oh boy oh boy, do I get to do this every week?

    Sighs.com's turn

    On the heels of MemeFirst.com comes the revamped Sighs.com, the site which started it all for me way back in 1995, when 5-letter domain names were easy pickings. It has served since then as a repository for news for SAIS alumni from around 1993-1995. It’s had many incarnations, from an early crude hand-coded html version, to a sounding board for my web design theories, to straightforward blog, to — now — a real community site that virtually runs itself.

    If you went to SAIS around then, I encourage you to register and update your classmates, and then to forward news of Sighs’ reappearance to the alumni you stay in touch with. It’s been around eight years since we graduated (nine since Bologna), and as those days slip further away, staying in touch can become more difficult, but not less important.

    MemeFirst.com is up and running

    You may have wondered what I’ve been up to this past week. I’ve had the flu, but there has been one productive outcropping from this mildly hallucinatory daze punctured by coughing fits: MemeFirst.com, a new collaborative project with Matthew Rose and Felix Salmon, and hopefully you.

    StefanGeens.com has played host to colorful debates among friends. But there is no way for you to post your own stories here, and the commenting system is very basic. So while this blog is fine for my own musings, it comes up short for the kinds of debates we could be having.

    But I also confess that MemeFirst exists in part to turn the tables on the likes of Eurof and Charles — now they too can subject themselves to peer review and be found horribly wanting. I look forward to the opportunity.

    This blog continues unabated, but with a slightly modified purpose; overtly political posts and links with wide appeal will now show up on MemeFirst. The more personal stuff stays here.

    So make MemeFirst.com a stop on your daily web rounds — in addition to this blog of course.

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    Apatheism

    While looking at some list of words of the year one word in particular that I had not previously seen caught my attention: Apatheist, or one who couldn’t care less whether there is a god or not. Here is a subtler definition:

    An apatheist is a type of atheist who, rather than not believing in any gods because the arguments for them are weak, simply doesn’t care about the existence of any gods and goes about life as if none existed.

    I suspect most of my friends of being closet atheists, though they will only admit to agnosticism, either out of a misplaced sense of respect for religion or because the word ‘atheism’ is smeared in their minds with a surfeit of negative conviction. Perhaps they will consider the term ‘apatheist’ as being a more accurate descriptor of their stance on god(s)—an atheism lite; they all already act as if there are no gods, with ethics derived from empathy and socialization rather than handed from on high, so why not update one’s mental profile?

    The reason I think it is accurate to describe apatheism as a kind of atheism (and not a kind of agnosticism) is that agnosticism allows for the possibility of a god that exhibits very human qualities—the personal god, the jealous god, the omnipotent, omniscient god, the god that requires prayers or which punishes evil—the kind of god that the more literal religions (all judeo-christian-muslim ones certainly) posit. If such a god were to exist, we would ignore it at our peril.

    But most scientifically minded people (like yourselves) have discarded such a notion of god for one that is much more abstract, one which does not interfere with the laws of physics, one restricted to operating before the big bang, one which does not know or care about you personally (nor if you rape Bosnian refugees or discover penicillin), and who most certainly will not give you any kind of afterlife.

    If that is the kind of god you are wondering exists, then you are an apatheist, because whether such a god exists or not makes no difference to the human sphere. I’ll still side with atheism, because efficient explanations are best (see Occam’s razor), but functionally were in the same boat.

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