Oh, where's that picture of the Black Nesferatu behind all the ballerinas?

Don't let the letter-writers know.

The black snowflakes remind one of this amazing Sigur Ros video.

Hey! Our Persian has a heart defect, too. I think we should spay him.

You have to rub his nose in it every time he posts and hit him with a rolled-up newspaper, Labs.

Anyone think The Ethicist has decided to take only the lamest questions until the foofaraw over his kiddie-porn pass is over?

Clearly, the doting Grandma doesn't live in Manhattan, where black snowflakes are pretty common. As they would be in LA if it snowed. We have to settle for black air and gray rain. [Gotta love those forest fires; it's how we get our RDA of inhalable carbon.]

That grandparent thing keeps me chuckling. "Dear The Ethicist, I'm appalled by black people. Does this make me a racist?"

I think we should spay him.

Isn't that famously unnecessary?

Did you notice that Alberto Gonzales weighed in on the Ethics of child porn? He seems to be in the "early teens is an upper bound" camp. (He would be wouldn't he?)

(Is anyone else bothered by the opening question "how much is a human life worth?"?)

Depends on how much you get for the parts.

Women, however, can get a packet without having to lose a liver.

Yikes! I was just reading the Times Magazine, and for both of these articles, when I was reading them I was thinking, "should I post some notice to Labs, who might like to blog about this?"

amateur breeder is a kind of funny designation.

I suspect that more are amateurs than are professionals.

13: Pity you've been able to do so little research in that area.

3: How do you say "depressing" in Hopelandish?

One good test as to whether folks are doing interesting work is, Can they surprise me? And increasingly, when I read Peter Singer, he doesn't surprise me.

I still think I might send this article to all my friends who will be making bank next year to notify them that they will be in the top 10% of people in terms of income. Jesus.

Also, 3: holy shit, that is awesome. Did I ever mention that Sigur Ros puts on one of the best live shows ever, as well?

Actually, i think the grandma's is a really good question.

Obviously, she doesn't want to think of herself as a racist. So, in her day-to-day affairs, there's probably not anything she does that would make her think she's a racist. She seems, however, very culturally locked in. If she was so aware of black people in the nutcracker, I doubt she has very much interaction with minorities.

So she has her world and her boundaries; and then all that's penetrated while she's watching the nutcracker, and she feels disturbed.

Is this racism? I don't think so. I think it's something at the root of a lot of racism, a catalyst for a slippery slope to racism, but not quite racism itself.

Did you notice that Alberto Gonzales weighed in on the Ethics of child porn? He seems to be in the "early teens is an upper bound" camp. (He would be wouldn't he?)

Maybe it's a Mexican thing. Age of consent down there is like 12.

If there's grass on the field, play ball!

all that's penetrated while she's watching the nutcracker

Dude, Michael, you have some sick fantasies.

and then all that's penetrated while she's watching the nutcracker

Grandma's into one kinky scene.

the nutcracker, of course, is an interracial porn.

The Nutcracker has always been a racist ballet; that's how it was written.

Not to mention Stravinsky's infamously anti-semitic "Pas de Jew."

The Nutcracker has always [fill in the blank].

The Nutcracker has always been at war with Eastasia.

The sexual overtones (undertones? harmonics?) in The Nutcracker have always seemed a bit odd. Clara, Drosselmeyer (the "Uncle"), and all. I gues I should ask Gonzales for an opinion.

Oh, and the darned thing is too long (Sleeping Beauty is too). OTOH, you get your money's worth.

Sexual overtones are supplied by the double basses.

The Sugar Plum Fairy and the people of the Land of Sweets dance for Clara and the Prince in the dances of Dew Drop Fairy, the Spanish dancers (sometimes Chocolate), the Chinese dancers (sometimes Tea), the Arabian dancers (sometimes Coffee), the Russian dancers (sometimes Candy Canes), Mother Ginger and her Polichinelles, the Reed Flute (soemtimes Marzipan, Mirlitions) dancers, the Sugar Plum Fairy, and the Waltz of the Flowers.

(That quote is from the wikipedia entry.)

Is anyone else bothered by the opening question "how much is a human life worth?"?)

Nope. Some things are just incomparable.

And don't we all have a family member we'd be willing to trade in for a couple million?

Is anyone else bothered by the question opening question...
Okay, I may be spectacularly dense or just pithed from Xmas shopping, but wasn't his whole point with the article to bust some ostrayeniya on the themes of money, humanity and their interplay? Anyhow, for somebody who's ostensibly been thinking about this subject for 30 years or whatever, isn't he kinda missing the point? Capitalism giveth and capitalism taketh away. Sure, there's a moral imperative to help out poor benighted denizens of Third World countries, but palliative, small scale wealth redistribution is hardly the ultimate answer. Transferring wealth to the poor is great, but as long as we've got a civillization based on hooliganism and racketeering, the wealth is just going to drain back to the centers of power again sooner or later.

I was downtown today, for work and shopping. ("Money has no smell." "Yet it is made of piss.") And I was struck by the utter horror of all of those Vikings fans leaving the Metrodome. Most of the time, living and working and recreating where I do, I can blot out the awful truth that this country is overrun with smug, rich, uncultured, vicious, white suburban fucks. When you see them all together like that, man, it's enough to really nauseate you.

Sure, there's a moral imperative to help out poor benighted denizens of Third World countries

I don't think so.

Most of the time, living and working and recreating where I do, I can blot out the awful truth that this country is overrun with smug, rich, uncultured, vicious, white suburban fucks. When you see them all together like that, man, it's enough to really nauseate you.

Best to hold your perfumed handkerchief to your nose before you feel too feint and have to lie down.

This article is interesting.

Tchaikovsky sneered at Musorgsky, a far more interesting composer. He also went on the record saying that music should be superficial, pretty, and "pseudo". I claim that Tchaikovsky was the first major pop composer, not in a good way -- leading ultimately to Barry Manilow and Andrew Lloyd Webber.

34: You know what was interesting? How few women would comment for the article.

Also, how does the NYT style manual not bar reporters from using offensively clique-ish phrases such as "c-suite"?

3: Achingly beautiful, isn't it, in a 'I need to weep now' sort of way?

At least Tchaikovsky recognized that his "Nutcracker" was schlock. The finale to his 1812 overture is pretty damned catchy, though: I find myself singing it rather often.

The best parts of the 1812 Overture aren't in the finale, but Tschaikovsky does begin to sound the same after a while ('wait, where's the part where the strings and woodwinds do a set of cascading deedle deedle deedles until the brass comes in?')

I was struck by the utter horror of all of those Vikings fans leaving the Metrodome.

You'd have been horrified too, if you watched that game.

C'mon, tympani cannons?

"Most of the time, living and working and recreating where I do, I can blot out the awful truth that this country is overrun with smug, rich, uncultured, vicious, white suburban fucks. When you see them all together like that, man, it's enough to really nauseate you."

All I have to do is look into a mirror. Tho I ain't that rich. And I agree with the assessment of Singer.

Noted on LGM a quotation to the affect that 60s radicals supporting Communists was a huge mistake. As we head into a catastrophic escalation in Iraq, and possibly the worst and maybe final year of my life, I am certain that the Left in America went nowhere near far enough in the Sixties. Bush 43 should have been made impossible. Or we should have died trying.
...
31:Watched "Syriana" last night. 80 million for first born, 100 million for second son.

amateur breeder is a kind of funny designation

Especially if you haven't figured out how to do it right.

Don't worry, that is my only comment for the day. Anywhere. After reading Pat Lang and Steve Clemons,..fuckit. Nevermind.

42
"possibly the worst and maybe final year of my life"
you know, I live with a constant sense of vague foreboding, so every year feels like maybe my final.

but do you have something more specific in mind? If so, I'm very sorry to hear about it.

on the whole, I'd rather that you stick around for many happy returns.

Yeah, me too, Bob.

33: Okay Mr. Kissinger, so if there's no moral imperative to help starving, diseased, ill-clothed and ill-housed people, just what is there a moral imperative to do? Get rich? Root for the home team? Be true to your school? Stop wanking off so much?

'Cause my point was that, if we start from the premise that the material conditions of human existence are not optimal for all people, and that for those instances where they are not optimal, they can and should be improved, then we are left with a dilemma. To wit: how can such an improvement take place? Should it come through social revolution? The lifting of nearly all restriction on markets? Piecemeal charity? A mixed program of aid, development and diplomatic pressure on undemocratic regimes? Obviously there are a number of proposals on the table, but virtually everyone seems to agree on the idea that things are pretty crummy for lots of folks.

Or, if you don't agree with the premise that the material conditions of life are sub-optimal for many people, what is your answer to the statistics presented regarding childhood mortality from preventable diseases? Not to mention the substantial body of literature, starting with the Vedas and perhaps reaching its apogee with The Message, in which literally millions of commentators have offered a critique of human life that privileges pleasure and excoriates actions which promote needless suffering?

And another thing, when I'm sitting on a cold bus bench, waiting for my bus (which will take me back to my apartment in an integrated, working-class neighborhood), which is late because there's 17,000 SUVs trying to flee the city simultaneously to get back to their cozy suburban dens, then I hardly think that it is me who's part of the elite.

I do like The Marche Slav and Symphony No. 4. Good tunes.

For some reason, Elgar reminds me of Tchaikovsky. But Elgar's not as popular.

Stop wanking off so much?

Whoa there, let's not be hasty.

Will the Atriosians bring hippy baked-goods? Brownies!

Neat. I'm always vaguely shocked that anyone's reading these threads, other than those of us who make a career out of it.

Wrong thread.

just what is there a moral imperative to do?

Nothing, so far as I know. Now go and live a good life!

I hardly think that it is me who's part of the elite.

Being part of the elite isn't necessary in order to hold a general, unfair, derogatory opinion of the masses.

I'm always vaguely shocked that anyone's reading these threads, other than those of us who make a career out of it.

Unfogged: the weird kid no one wants to talk to.

I think the Ethicist was too hard on the grandma, and disingenuous with his own reasoning. Presumably the grandma would have been just as unhappy with a production of Porgy and Bess or Dreamgirls with white actors in the leads. Wouldn't you? The Ethicist makes the lame argument that we accepted Russell Crowe as a Roman general in Gladiator, even though he's from modern New Zealand. Sure we did, but he looked the part. Would we have accepted his black costar, Djimon Hounsou?

The Ethicist is dancing around his real argument, which appears to be that while it's appropriate to demand racial verisimilitude in "realistic" productions, the Nutcracker is a pure fantasy for kids, and therefore the "accuracy" of having a white snowflake or Snow King is not important enough to justify excluding black actors from those roles.

Hey, Stanley, I like your blog.

57: Exactly.

Of course, I'm only being agreeable so leblanc doesn't hit me.

I only hit girls.

Is this racism? I don't think so.

What would actually count as racism, then?

I haven't read enough Singer to know how typical that piece is, but his approach seems bizarre. Would most people really agree that a life is worth a few million? Doesn't the arbitrariness of the value of money make the question pointless? Zell Kravinsky represents a more persuasive argument, even if only as a daunting example, like the relevant bits of the New Testament. I wonder how much Singer gives, and to whom, and how he decides.

Reading about that Kravinsky guy made me really want to give away one of my kidneys. The man makes a good point.

Black ballet dancers do look slightly strange in pink tights and pink pointe shoes, I'll grant Grandpa that. So ballet companies should follow the Dance Theater of Harlem's lead and encourage their dancers to dye their tights and shoes to approximate whatever skin tone they are. None of us are that weird peachy-pink color, and a corps de ballet that had a fuller spectrum of "flesh" colors would, for almost all ballets I can think of, look pretty damned cool.

Oh, and Tchaikovsky is as overrated as Mussorgsky and Elgar are underrated. I like the Enigma Variations more every time I listen to it. I also have a special, if totally unjustifiable, affection for composers, like Mussorgsky and John Field, who drank themselves to death.

I should listen to more Mussorgsky. I'm a classical/art music ignoramus, but I do very much like Pictures at an Exhibition (especially the Ravel orchestral arrangement, because I'm pedestrian like that). Any particular recordings of the Enigma Variations to recommend?

45,46:Naw, not sick or suicidal. Well, not very suicidal. Just family history of heart trouble, advancing age, and not strenuously postponing the inevitable. I feel like I've pushed my luck already further than I deserve. And I don't want to go slowly. I've watched too many bad deaths.

I.m ok.

66: Mine is the Rattle/Birmingham, but there are loads of other great recordings available, including at least one conducted by Elgar.

That Singer piece is painful.

56: I'm not sure how your two paragraphs are meant to be in opposition to each other, nor against The Ethicist. Russell Crowe makes a passable Spaniard because no one cares about what the character looks like as long as he's sufficiently manly. The dancing snowflakes aren't race-specific, either. Porgy & Bess is. Othello also requires a race difference. (I think there's been a production where Patrick Stewart played Othello and the rest of the cast was black.)

But this seems to be a stretch. The grandma's surprised because she's probably never seen a black ballet dancer before, not because she's always thought that the Sugar Plum Fairy was about the authentic white experience or some such nonsense.

67: Bob, stick around. We need more fiery politics. And see this interview with Studs Terkel (pdf).

You've got neocons and neoliberals: I'm a neo-Neanderthal. But my ingratitude to technology is the real irony, because were it not for technology, I wouldn't be here talking to you right now. Eight weeks ago, at the age of ninety-three, I was in the hospital with a broken neck. While I'm there, my personal doctor and my cardiologist say, "Your whole valve is shot, and you've got about three months to live." I'm ninety-three, so I say, "What the hell. Ninety-three. Let the damned thing ride."

But they say the odds are a little better than they were nine years ago, when I had a quintuple bypass. So I say, "OK, I'll do it," because I'm curious. My ego wants to know: what's the world going to be like? It may be in terrible shape, but I want to be around . . . sort of.

So my ego got the best of me. And the next thing I know I wake up, and they're pulling me out on a gurney, and the surgeon says, "It's all over." I say, "You mean I'm dead?" He says, "No, no, you've got about four more years." Four more years. I'm ninety-three -- I don't need four more years! It sounds so Nixonian: four more years. Two! I'll settle for two.

Studs Terkel is so great.

I think there's been a production where Patrick Stewart played Othello and the rest of the cast was black.

It was at the Shakespeare Theatre in D.C. Here's a review.

The grandma's surprised because she's probably never seen a black ballet dancer before

I dunno, I kind of see her more as anal retentive than as racist. I don't know what the black snowflakes looked like, but I'm visualizing a black person's face peeking out of a pure-white costume. That clash between skin color and costume color is probably what threw her off.

Jesus and I agree about musical drunkards. Satie was also quite a drinker, though he didn't die young. Jaroslav Hasek was a great drunken writer of fiction and also defines politics for the post-modern age.

The catchy tune at the end of the 1812 Overture was not original. I believe that it was a regimental march tune or something like that.

Musorgsky's opera are fantastic, even if you hate opera, and you have to pay attention to the librettos. All the joyful music praising the lords, for example, is without exception sung on command by unfree subjects, and this is made quite explicit.

More at my URL.

Reading about that Kravinsky guy made me really want to give away one of my kidneys.

My reaction was to think he needed a therapist. "Dude, it's not your responsibility to save everyone. Be OK with that."

And you should hang on to your kidneys.

61. Actual racism.

Yeah, doesn't everyone know that real snowflakes have pink faces, blue eyes, and blond pigtails? It's all right there in Luke 15:16, right before Santa comes down the manger chimney singing "Rock Around the Xmas Tree".

Nutcracker productions without albino dancers are inherently racist, and the ideal Nutcracker should include actual mice and rats.

I really do believe that changing the default "flesh" color of tights and shoes could have a huge impact on ballet and how its received.

The finale to his 1812 overture is pretty damned catchy, though: I find myself singing it rather often.

The catchy tune at the end of the 1812 Overture was not original. I believe that it was a regimental march tune or something like that.

It's the old Russian national anthem, "God save the Tsar" (you noticed the Marseillaise at the beginning? Well, there you go). It's also the tune to a hymn, "Give to us peace in our time, O Lord".

I was a crappy violin player in a HS orchestra, and that has shaped my limited classical music fandom to a significant degree. Specifically, I generally only get into pieces I once attempted to play. With that in mind, Emerson's more or less right about Tschaivsky, and the greatest composers are Musorgsky and Dvorak, especially the former.