Category Archives: Essays

Critics: The most powerful essay of all time

Posted on by The Old Wolf

And it was spoken in the context of a cartoon, a show ostensibly for children.

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read.

But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new.

Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau’s, who is, in this critic’s opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau’s soon, hungry for more.”

-Anton Ego, Ratatouille
Text and Image ©Pixar, 2007

There are very few unbiased and balanced critics out there, be it in the worlds of literature, theatre, food, art, or whatnot. Most of them get off on savaging what they either consider substandard, or as is too often the case, what they do not understand. With very few exceptions, there is good to be found everywhere one looks for it – but most critics are looking for the sensational, or for an excuse to be snarky.

As far as I am concerned, most of them fall well below my threshold of relevancy.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

The School for Animals

Posted on by The Old Wolf

Once upon a time the animals decided they must do something heroic to meet the problems of a “new world” so they organized a school. They had adopted an activity curriculum consisting of running, climbing, swimming and flying. To make it easier to administer the curriculum, all the animals took all the subjects.

The duck was excellent in swimming. In fact, better than his instructor. But he made only passing grades in flying and was very poor in running. Since he was slow in running, he had to stay after school and also drop swimming in order to practice running. This was kept up until his webbed feet were badly worn and he was only average in swimming. But average was acceptable in school so nobody worried about that, except the duck.

The rabbit started at the top of the class in running but had a nervous breakdown because of so much makeup work in swimming.

The squirrel was excellent in climbing until he developed frustration in the flying class where his teacher made him start from the ground up instead of the treetop down. He also developed a “charlie horse” from overexertion and then got a C in climbing and D in running.

The eagle was a problem child and was disciplined severely. In the climbing class, he beat all the others to the top of the tree but insisted on using his own way to get there.

At the end of the year, an abnormal eel that could swim exceeding well and also run, climb and fly a little had the highest average and was valedictorian.

The prairie dogs stayed out of school and fought the tax levy because the administration would not add digging and burrowing to the curriculum. They apprenticed their children to a badger and later joined the groundhogs and gophers to start a successful private school.

Does this fable have a moral?

—————-

This story, in the public domain, was written by George Reavis when he was the Assistant Superintendent of the Cincinnati Public Schools back in the 1940s. This was a handout for my Educational Administration classwork in 1972.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

Some people don’t do nothing.

Posted on by The Old Wolf

First they came for the communists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

-Martin Niemöller (one of several versions)

August Landmesser was a worker at the Blohm + Voss shipyard in Hamburg, Germany, and is best known for his appearance in a photograph refusing to perform the Nazi salute at the launch of the naval training vessel Horst Wessel on 13 June, 1936. He had been a Nazi Party member from 1931 to 1935, but after fathering children with a Jewish woman, he had been found guilty of “dishonoring the race” under Nazi racial laws and had come to oppose Hitler’s regime….

[He] was discharged from prison on 19 January, 1941…. In February 1944 he was drafted into a penal unit, the 999th Fort Infantry Battalion, where he was declared missing in action and presumably killed.

Courage comes in all colors.

The Old Wolf has Spoken.

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Some thoughts on Memorial day.

Posted on by The Old Wolf

Yesterday, I posted this on facebook:

“There are never sufficient words to thank those who have paid the price, and their families, to keep us free from bondage. My gratitude to all who ever wore the colors, past and present.”

A couple of my friends (and I do consider them friends) who live in countries other than mine made some comments which prompted an uncharacteristic stirring of my little gray cells – usually they’re quite content to veg out on TNG reruns, energized by my wife’s creampuffs.

Since I happen to have thought of Picard and Company, let me throw out one of my favorite quotes, from Star Trek: Insurrection – “Some of the darkest chapters in the history of my world involved the forced relocation of a small group of people to satisfy the demands of a large one. I’d hoped that we had learned from our mistakes, but it seems some of us haven’t.”

It’s no secret that many people – especially in countries where the horrors of war have reduced their homes and families to rubble and ashes – tend to look at flag-waving with fear, associating it with blind nationalism and conquering hordes, and history is replete with examples. With due respect to them, I maintain there are light-years between patriotism and nationalism, and that it is possible to embrace the one and abhor the other.

In his “Notes on Nationalism,” George Orwell said, “By ‘patriotism’ I mean devotion to a particular place and a particular way of life, which one believes to be the best in the world but has no wish to force on other people [emphasis added]. Patriotism is of its nature defensive, both militarily and culturally. Nationalism, on the other hand, is inseparable from the desire for power. The abiding purpose of every nationalist is to secure more power and more prestige, not for himself but for the nation or other unit in which he has chosen to sink his own individuality. ”

Especially in the aftermath of 9/11, an outpouring of national sentiment could be forgiven; after all, our nation had suffered a horrific, direct attack by a hostile external force. Yes, there were pockets of idiocy to be found, but the vast majority of our populace saw the enemy for what it was – not a nation, a people, a race or a faith to be subjugated, but rather a small and deadly coalition of radicals who were opposed to the fundamental principles of freedom and equality upon which our nation was founded.

This iconic image captured the heart of the nation in the days following that terrible moment, and served to send a message to those who would hurt and make afraid; not a message of conquest or domination, but rather of stalwart determination: You may hurt us, but we will heal, and we will be stronger; and we will not rest until we find you.

Every nation has its wars, and every war has its soldiers; some volunteer, but most are drafted. The vast majority of those who fight and die in national conflicts have little idea what they are really fighting for,  but they put the uniform on and fight just the same. For their sacrifice and their willingness to serve, we honor them, and that honor has very little to do with patriotism, and nothing to do with nationalism; it has only to do with respect for their stalwart bravery, and the ongoing sacrifices made by the families of those who never came home.

I wave the flag on Memorial Day to honor those who gave up their tomorrows that I and my children might enjoy ours. That’s what Memorial Day means to me, and I am not ashamed.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

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