THE FORTUNES OF THE DIALECTIC

From station to station

Compare and Contrast

Posted by jeffrubard on October 30, 2009

Tax-spend

Although I look a lot like Harry Hopkins (and am, like him, a man on none-too-generous welfare) I’m actually several shades more radical than the New Dealers. However, I’d settle in the short term (i.e., most of my remaining life) for some initiatives like the job-creation program; but advocating for unions, higher wages, etc. during Clinton and Bush has essentially cost me jobs and virtually gotten my ass kicked. If that sort of thing has worked for you, maybe I should take notes, but I suspect I’m not the only person to regret taking “radical” stands on issues — for purely pragmatic reasons.

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Memories of my Autonomism

Posted by jeffrubard on October 22, 2009

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I Sing the Body Eclectic [James Brown, Italianate]

Posted by jeffrubard on September 27, 2009

As perhaps befits a totemic figure for the US Army, James Brown’s dancing was Italianate: that is to say scientific. When you see someone make themselves into a whirling contraption – they are becoming less than they were and less noticeable, and they know this; JB moved so well you didn’t notice he was “stepping”, not participating in genuine modernist gyrations; how can he, how can he, how can he conduct the Orchester while moving so precisely from place to place and snapping his fingers? Ultimately many try, but those moves were “of a piece” and of a time – there is no “Maceo Parker of Attica” and nothing to do but watch and learn and try.

James Brown: Cold Sweat (1967)

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New American Philosophy

Posted by jeffrubard on September 26, 2009

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I don’t need no money, honey, because you’re always there

Posted by jeffrubard on September 26, 2009

Ultranotebook: re-loaded

Averaging more than 8 hours of battery life, the Acer Timeline sets a new standard for value, mobility and productivity.

Eddie Floyd — I’ve Never Found a Girl (to Love Me Like You Do)


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V lunaparku

Posted by jeffrubard on September 26, 2009

 

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With friend you get eggroll

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Omar Serif

Posted by jeffrubard on September 26, 2009

083-791850

Extra parliamentary

IT and Ben have pictures from London today: the focus is sharp and the message precise, but as per usual the “message” is “Don’t Try This At Home”.

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Memoir of my Nervous Illness

Posted by jeffrubard on September 23, 2009

The Electric Ant/New Gillian Time: Jeffrey D. Rubard, 2004

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Post Festum

Posted by jeffrubard on September 9, 2009

I intend to discontinue The Fortunes of the Dialectic, as I discontinued my previous web site “OpenSentence” in 2005, at this point. Initially a piece of Popery, the title later came to refer to many things: the fruits of genuine intellectualism, a Fred Astaire movie, una economica populare, life outside cars, “star systems”, and the results and upshot of Hegelian dialectics: however, when one is within “spitting distance” of sobriquetization, one ought to consider “other opportunities”. Including, I suppose, a return to genuine pseudonymity by a man who could, in truth, neither be Jeffrey nor “Jeff” Rubard: there was at least one of the former before, and the “pronoun of laziness” concealed derailed memory traces. I live and breathe, not too comfortably but comfortably within the law; we are now able to hold our elected officials and their bureaucratic “minders” to promises and reasonable expectations, and I have said much more than I hoped to, wanted to, or ever thought possible on a number of things (tho’ unstitching the joys of Kipling may just have been too damn much). It is one country, though we stand in disunity: and like the Spinners, I’ll be around: unlike the Spinners, I was never committed to wax, including poetic, and the Prosa der Welt suffices. Be seeing you.

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Fin

Posted by jeffrubard on September 4, 2009

JERUSALEM (from ‘Milton’)

by: William Blake (1757-1827)

    AND did those feet in ancient time
    Walk upon England’s mountains green?
    And was the holy Lamb of God
    On England’s pleasant pastures seen?
     
    And did the Countenance Divine
    Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
    And was Jerusalem builded here
    Among these dark Satanic Mills?
     
    Bring me my bow of burning gold!
    Bring me my arrows of desire!
    Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
    Bring me my chariot of fire!
     
    I will not cease from mental fight,
    Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
    Till we have built Jerusalem
    In England’s green and pleasant land.

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