I won’t be blogging this coming weekend because I’ll be encamped in Washington DC for a two-day meeting that I’m attending as part of my duties as board president of a local non-profit. Unlike the last time I was there, I probably won’t get a chance to do photo ops with senators and other dignitaries. I’m a little disappointed that I won’t have more free time as I’d like to pay visits to the Supreme Court and FDR Memorial. However, I’m reasonably confident I’ll make future visits.
Writers of noir fiction always run the risk of self-parody. The conventions of noir–the tough-as-nails private eye, the femme fatale, the hardboiled prose–have been rehashed and recycled so many times that it seems nearly impossible to wring anything original and compelling out of the genre. But Phillip Kerr manages to do just that in his Berlin Noir trilogy. Kerr’s conceit is to choose one of the most noir settings imaginable: Berlin during the rise and fall of the Third Reich. After all, the corruption and violence of the Nazi regime provides an ideal milieu to explore the darker side of human nature. Bernie Gunther, the protagonist of the loosely connected novels that make up Berlin Noir, is a struggling private detective with no great love for the Nazis, but is resigned to living under their tyranny. The best he can hope for is to scratch out a living for himself and survive whatever fate lies in store for Germany and her mad rulers.
Gunther can ill-afford to turn down a case and he finds himself investigating murders and extortion rackets that bring him uncomfortably close to the thuggish despots he so despises. Kerr’s historical research is deftly incorporated into the stories, making Gunther’s encounters with figures like Heinrich Himmler all the more disquieting. Some of Kerr’s plot devices are a bit clumsy in their convenience, but his vivid writing makes such sins easily forgivable. And one you read this book, you’ll never look at a wine press in the same way again.
I’m looking for recommendations on a bookshelf stereo system that can accommodate my iPod. It needs to have an FM radio so I can listen to MPR while I get ready in the morning. I don’t care about an alarm clock or CD player. This Sony looks like it might fit the bill, but I’m still in the product research phase.
The Times article paints a downcast picture for municipal wireless, but this a bump in the road. Minneapolis’ network and the public-private partnership behind it could become a model for other cities looking to provide affordable broadband to their residents. Once our current economic doldrums have passed, we’ll see renewed interest in making broadband affordable to everyone, just like any other public utility.
PZ Myers, a fellow Minnesota blogger, seems to have developed a reputation as a troublemaker. He went to a screening of the pro-creation movie Expelled at the Mall of America. Before he could even step foot into the theater, he was, well, expelled. But you should really read PZ’s original post for the punchline to the story. It’s classic.
I’m now an official graduate of the Emerging Leaders Institute, a professional development program sponsored by the State of Minnesota. I’ll probably be “emerging” for some time to come. If all goes well, I should have enough years remaining in my public service career to figure out what this leadership business is all about. I’m already beginning to work on improving my assertiveness. So, watch out, cute women in elevators. I might start greeting you with an unsolicited “Hello” or even “How are you?” I’m getting dizzy just thinking about it.
Here’s a picture of me and my fellow emergent leaders:
I’m the one in the middle, in case you couldn’t tell.
I’ve been working on a presentation most of tonight. More tomorrow.
I’ve been reading some of the reactions to Obama’s speech on race and class and one thing they seem to share is a sense of wonderment that a politician spoke so openly about a topic that comes with more baggage than an auditorium full of divorced singles. And he spoke in plain, unadorned terms that didn’t condescend to the audience. The speech nicely embodies what I think is one of Obama’s greatest assets: his ability to articulate the the sunny as well as the more shadowy aspects of American civic life without sounding rehearsed or inauthentic. I can’t picture Clinton giving a speech like this. Her years in politics have left their scars and I’m not sure that she’s capable of letting her guard down when there are more than five people in the room.
The YouTube clips of Reverend Wright had the potential to freak out a lot of white people; the kind of white people who make it a point to talk about their black friends when the topic of race comes up. Obama needed to take control of the narrative and he did that. But he also offered a glimpse of what it might be like have a president who is willing to treat us like adults.
Arthur C. Clarke, one of science fiction’s few remaining grandmasters, died today at age 90. Childhood’s End was one of those books that left a deep impression on my adolescent brain (aliens that look like Satan=way cool), but Rendezvous with Rama is probably my favorite of his. It’s such an economical story but it vividly conveys the head-scratching weirdness of a vast and ancient universe.
Hospitals across Minnesota are running short on ventilators and may not have enough to go around if a pandemic strikes. Good thing I already have one. In fact, I have two. Which means that, when the time comes, I’d better nail my door shut to keep out the plague-infested hordes.
