The cruelest month
Some Notes on the Silence update
My new book, Some Notes on the Silence, is now available on Amazon, for those who celebrate.
Here’s another freebie.
Running at Disneyworld
The first weekend of April, Christina and I spent at Disneyworld, where she ran in various marathon-like events: a nighttime 5K at Animal Kingdom, a 10K at Epcot and a half-marathon that went between Epcot and Hollywood Studios and was themed around the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror. As a sane person, I spent the time relaxing in the hotel room. Actually, we did the 5K together, since it wasn’t timed, and was actually fun. Christina is the athlete in the family. I had enough of that stuff when the State of California forced it on me in the 80s and 90s.
Spoons and private property
I got a new treasure recently: a Soviet Army-isssue aluminum spoon.
I had been reading Vasily Grossman’s thousand page epic novel Stalingrad (prequel to his masterpiece, Life and Fate). It was Grossman’s ambition to write a War and Peace of the 20th century, and his book did a good job of describing the eponymous battle—but the Soviet censorship authorities forced him to remove passages and add a bunch of propaganda.
In one section, a soldier is speaking while eating. He then licks his spoon “lovingly” and puts it away. But in an endnote, the translators explain that the Soviet apparatchiks forced Grossman to remove the word “lovingly.” Why?
Soviet Army soldiers owned nothing. Even their uniforms were government property. But there was a general consensus that a soldier owned his spoon. These were essentially the only private property they were allowed. And as a result, these soldiers often decorated their spoons, sometimes lavishly. the Communist bosses insisted that Grossman remove “lovingly” because it hinted at a bourgeois connection to private property.
The spoon I bought on eBay has been decorated with what appears to be an effort at a Roman numeral date. (It looks like it says “MCMII,” which would be 1902. I don’t know the significance of this. It can’t be his birth year, because a solider born in 1902 would have been in his mid-thirties at the outbreak of World War II, which seems old for a foot soldier. There’s no guarantee that this spoon dates from World War II, either. Perhaps he simply never finished the engraving? Perhaps it was supposed to say 1951? Or it could be a military unit number.)
But what really interests me isn’t the date. It’s the faint scratches at the very end, which describe a sunrise pattern.
There is no evident utility to these marks; they are purely aesthetic. This comrade (“kumrad,” E.E. Cummings used to say) has tried to decorate the end of the spoon handle, with something like the patterns on luxurious civilian tableware. And why? Because it is his private property. Aristotle said “that which is owned by nobody has the least amount of care bestowed upon it.” Private ownership, by contrast, gives one a sense of pride, and makes one desire to maintain and improve that thing, in part as an expression of self-esteem. This spoon is among the most touching testaments to the spiritual power of ownership. Naturally, I had to own it.
Another win for Arizona taxpayers—and defending the rights of her entrepreneurs
The Arizona Supreme Court ruled this month against pro-tax forces who were trying to repeal the state’s new flat tax—a case in which I filed an amicus brief. The dispute was about a provision of the state Constitution that allows voters, through the referendum process, to repeal any law passed by the legislature—except laws “for the support and maintenance” of the state. Tax laws are obviously for support and maintenance of the state, so they’re exempt from the referendum process. So we argued in our brief, and so the court ruled (although they didn’t issue a full opinion; that’ll take a while yet).
We also filed a brief this month in a case involving a businessman who claims a state agency has no legal authority to regulate his business. The agency says he has to first submit to a hearing before that agency before he can bring his lawsuit. We say that’s illogical. You can read about that at Goldwater’s blog.
The new Tord album
My favorite living jazz musician, Tord Gustavsen, has a new album out, called Opening. As with all his best work, it is solemn and contemplative without being dull or cliched. If you’re not familiar with his music, however, I’d recommend starting with his previous album, The Other Side, because it includes some faster songs, too.
Griboyedov
I’ve also been listening to a lot of lovely Russian piano music lately (it seemed natural while reading Grossman), and along the way discovered Alexander Griboyedov’s lovely Waltz in E Minor:
But I also discovered the truly dramatic story of Griboyedov’s death. It would make a hell of an opera.
Since it’s May Day, please take a moment to remember the victims of communism. And we’ll see you here in a month.