Cigarette, Cigar, Pipe

On his radio show this morning, cigar aficionado Dennis Prager said, and this is very close to a verbatim quotation:

The purpose of a cigarette is nicotine.  The purpose of a cigar is taste.  All they have in common is tobacco and fire.

Smoking-partsNot quite.  Agreed, the main purpose of cigarette smoking is nicotine delivery, although some cigarette smokers, not many,  care about taste.  And it is also true that while cigarette smoke is inhaled, cigar smoke is not.  Cigar smoke is tasted.  But the ingestion of nicotine via the blood vessels in the mouth (take a look under your tongue, you will need a mirror for this) is also part of what the cigar aficionado is after.  He is out for a certain characteristic 'lift' or 'high.' It is mild until you get to the end of the stick.   Luftmenschen in particular like this lift.  It powers their dialectic.  And fiddling with the accessories of smoking gives them time to formulate responses to objections. Every man is a philosopher when he is blowing smoke. 

But above the cigar stands, or lies, the pipe.

If the cigarette is a one-night stand, the cigar is a brief affair. The typical cigarette smoker is out for a quick fix, not for love. The cigar aficionado is out for love, but without long-term commitment. The pipe, however, is a long and satisfying marriage. But rare is the pipester who is not a polygamist. The practice of the pipe, then, is a long and satisfying marriage to many partners among whom no jealousy reigns.

This completes the first proof of the superiority of the pipe.

The Dictionary Definition of Lying Again: Hanson’s Counterexample

I dedicate this, and all subsequent posts on lying and the several senses of 'is,' to Bill Clinton and Barack Obama who, by their brazen mendacity, have inadvertently fueled the fires of logico-linguistic inquiry.

………..

Tony Hanson e-mails and I comment in blue:

Tony_hansonI hope things are well for you. Sorry for the haste of this message but time is a commodity of which lowly adjuncts have little.

Your posts on lying are interesting. You hint at this in one of your posts but I have not seen anyone raise questions about whether a falsehood is a necessary condition for lying. Further evidence perhaps of the family resemblance approach:

Shady, Bonnie and Clyde rob a bank. They stash the loot under the wood pile at the hideout. A few days later Clyde notices the money is gone. Shady and Bonnie, in a conspiracy to take the loot for themselves, bury it under the oak tree at the cemetery. Clyde drags Shady out of the house and demands to know where the money is. In an attempt to deceive Clyde, he says the money is buried under the bridge by the river. Clyde drags Shady down to the bridge and to Shady's chagrin there is the loot. (Bonnie had moved the loot from the oak tree to the bridge in attempt to have it for herself).

So Shady's statement that the loot was at the bridge was true, though he did attempt to deceive. Did Shady lie or not?

Is a false statement necessary [for a lie] or just the belief that a statement is false?

BV:  Counterexamples to the dictionary definition similar to Hanson's were proposed by Monokroussos and Lupu in the discussion threads and are familiar from the literature.  Here is the dictionary definition (that I was defending):

D1.  To lie =df  to make a false statement with the intention to deceive.

Given the Shady example, I think we have three options:

A. Take it as a clear case of lying and reject or revise the dictionary definition.
B.  Hold fast to (D1) and maintain that Shady did not lie.
C.  Maintain that there is no one univocal sense of 'lie' in English but rather a family of related senses at the center of which is the paradigmatic sense, a sense captured by (D1).

Here is a revision:

D2. To lie =df  to make an untruthful statement with the intention to deceive.

An untruthful statement is one that is believed to be false by the maker of the statement and hence can be either true or false.

Here is a problem with (D2).  Jones is under audit by the IRS.  The high number of personal exemptions he claimed flagged him for audit.  Jones, who has no children,  say to an IRS agent, intending to deceive him, "All of my children live at home."   Since Jones has no children, he does not believe it to be false or true that they live at home.   And yet Jones is presumably lying to the IRS agent.  (Example via Chisholm ia SEP article.)

But back to our metaphilosophical quandary.  I suspect that each of (A)-(C) leads to trouble, but (C) leads to less trouble.  Philosophers have proposed a number of definitions, see the SEP article on lying and deception, but no consensus has been reached.  This does not prove that no consensus can be reached or that the quest for a definition must end in failure.  But it is pretty good evidence for this conclusion.

As for the (B) approach, I could just insist that (D1) captures the essence of lying.  But lacking as I do special access to Plato's topos ouranos, that insistence would smack of arbitrarity.

So what exactly is wrong with the (C) approach?  Peter Lupu in conversation suggested that this leads to the abandoning of the ancient Platonic project  of seeking the natures of justice, knowledge, virtue, and so on.  But maybe not.  If some concepts are family-resemblance concepts, it doesn't follow that all are.  It could be that there are incorrect and correct (literal) uses of 'lies' and cognates, but that the correct uses are not unified by one univocal sense, but form a resemblance class.  Thus there would be no strict One to their Many.  But it would not follow that there are no strict ones-in-manys or ones-over-manys.

Consider this list:

lie
lie
lie.

How many words?  One or three?  Can't be both.  Make a distinction.  There are three tokens of the same type.  The type is a one-in-many.  We could also say that if each token is used in the (D1)-sense, there is exactly one sense common to all three uses.

On the Putative Right to Health Care

John  e-mails and I comment in blue:
 
I found your most recent post on a right to health care very interesting. It seems to me that much of the discussion of rights, not only about putative rights to health care, but about rights in general, depends on a certain controversial principle, namely:
 
If x has a right to y, and if z is a means of achieving y, then x has a right to z.

BV:  We should distinguish between weaker and stronger versions of the principle:

P1. If x has a right to y, and if z is a means of achieving y, then x has a right to seek to acquire z.

P2. If x has a right to y, and if z is a means of achieving y, then x has a right to be given z.

Consider the following straightforward argument in support of gun rights:

(1) I have a right to life and security of my person. (2) If I have a right to life and security of my person, then I have a right to the means whereby these rights may be secured and protected. (3) Guns may be used to secure and protect my right to life and security of my person. (4) Therefore, I have a right to own a gun.

BV: On 10 November 2009 I gave a more careful detailed argument along the same lines.  See Deriving Gun Rights from the Right to Life.

This seems to me very plausible, but of course (2) relies on the controversial principle identified above.

BV:  I would say that the argument relies on (P1) but not (P2).

In similar fashion, any argument for the claim that each of us has a right to health care will probably have to rely on a similar premise. I can imagine an argument going something like this:

(1) I have a right to life and security of my person. (2) If I have a right to life and security of my person, then I have a right to the means whereby these rights may be secured and protected. (3) Affordable health care may be used to secure and protect my right to life and security of my person. (4) Therefore, I have a right to affordable health care.

As before, premise (2) relies on the controversial principle identified earlier. And, as you point out in your post, similar arguments could be run to establish that each of us has a right to food, shelter, and clothing.

BV:  But again, all one needs is the weaker principle, (P1).  If I have a right to life, then I have a right to sustain my life.  A necessary means to that end is food.  So I have a right to food.  But all that means is that I have a right to seek to acquire food (by hunting, fishing, foraging, growing, buying, bartering, begging, etc.)  It does not mean that I have a right to be supplied with food by others.  I have no positive right to be fed.  What I have is a negative right not to be impeded in my quest for food and other vital necessities.  (Adults are under discussion, not young children.)

Here, then, is my question: what ought we to think about the controversial principle?

BV:  The first thing we should think about it is that it is ambiguous as between (P1) and (P2).  I would say  that (P1) is very plausible if not obviously true.  But it needs qualification. Do I have a right to biological or chemical weapons?  I have the right to repel a home invasion using a shotgun, but presumably not the right to repel such an invasion using biological agents that are likely to spread throughout the neighborhood.  So consider

P1*.  If x has a (negative) right to y, and z is a minimally efficacious means of achieving y,then x has a (negative) right to acquire z.

By 'minimally efficacious' I mean a means to an end that is an efficient and effective means to the end in view but not so powerful or extensive as to bring with it negative consequences for others.   My right to buy food would then not be a right to buy all the food in the supermarket. My right to repel home invaders does not translate into a right to lay waste to the entire neighborhood in so doing.  No doubt further refinements are needed, but (P1) strikes me as on the right track.

Although I am inclined to think that the principle is false, what is of interest to me is a more troublesome question. Any false general claim may have true instances. Are there true instances of this false general principle? How do we go about deciding which instances of the principle are true and which not? Can the principle be used to establish gun rights but not rights to health care or food/shelter/clothing?

BV: I should think that guns and butter are on a par.  More fully, guns, food, shelter, clothing, certain medicines, bandages, certain medical appliances, e. g. sphygmomanometers for the hypertense, etc. are all on a par.  Given that I have the natural negative right to life, then surely I have the right to pursue and acquire those things that I need to defend and sustain my life.  What I don't have is the positive right to be given them by others or by the government, especially given the fact that the government produces no wealth but gets its wealth by coercive taking.  (Not that I am opposed to governmental coercion, within limits.  There simply cannot be a government that is not coercive.  I am very pleased that the government has forced Bernie Madoff into prison, thereby doing to him what it would be a crime for me to do to him.)

So I don't think my gun argument suffers from probative overkill, 'proving too much.'  The pattern of argument extends to food, shelter, and clothing, etc.  But contemporary liberals are in the same boat: their pattern of argument extends to food, shelter, clothing, etc.  But their extension does amount to probative overkill and a reductio ad absurdum of their original argument. If there is a positive right to health care services and health insurance (these are of course not the same), then a fortiori, there is a positive right to food, shelter, and clothing.  But this is absurd, ergo, etc.

A Right to Health Care?

Food, shelter, and clothing are more important than health care in that one can get along for substantial periods of time without health care services but one cannot survive for long without food, shelter, and clothing. Given this plain fact, why don’t the proponents of ‘free’ universal health care demand ‘free’ food, shelter, and clothing? In other words, if a citizen, just in virtue of being a citizen, has a right to health care, why doesn’t the same citizen have the right to what is more fundamental, namely, food, shelter, and clothing?

I mean this as a reductio ad absurdum.  I fear that liberals, being liberals, may just bite the bullet and embrace rights to food, shelter, and clothing. 

Why isn't health care a commodity in the way that automotive care is? If I want my car to run well, I must service it periodically. I can either do this myself or hire someone to do it for me. But surely I have no right to the free services of an auto mechanic. Of course, once I contract with a mechanic to do a specified job for a specified sum of money, then I have a right to his services and to his services being performed correctly. But that right is contingent upon our contract. Call it a contractually acquired right. But I have no right to free automotive services just in virtue of the fact that I own a car. So why is it any different with my body? Do I have a right to a colonoscopy just in virtue of my possession of a gastrointestinal tract?

Of course, I have a right to life, and I cannot live without health care most of which, by the way, I provide for myself via proper diet, exercise, and all the rest.  But the negative right to life does not entail the positive right to be given the services of doctors and dentists.

If you insist that people do have a right to medical and dental services, then you owe us an explanation of why they do not also have a right to food, shelter, and clothing, as well as to a vast array of other things that they 'need' such as cars and cell phones.

Bill Clinton’s Health Care Blather

Jonathan Chait has Bubba's number:

If you want to make sure every healthy person paying low rates in the individual market right now can keep their [sic] plan, then you have two choices. One is to abolish Obamacare altogether, which means making it impossible for people with preexisting conditions to get affordable insurance. Clinton doesn’t want to do that — he continues to endorse the law. The second is to come up with some other source of funding to compensate insurance companies for their losses. Clinton doesn’t say where that money would come from.

When Clinton delivered a well-received speech at the Democratic National Convention last summer, President Obama joked he should appoint the former president as “Secretary of Explaining Stuff.” Of course, if he actually had a job like that, he would be fired within days.

David Lewis on Religion

David lewisJim Slagle points me this morning to a post of his that links to four papers by David Lewis on religion from Andrew Bailey's Lewis page.  (Occasional MavPhil commenter Bailey deserves high praise for making available online papers by van Inwagen and Lewis.)  Slagle goes on to make some criticisms of Lewis with which I agree.

Since Lewis "didn't have a religious bone in his body" as I recall his wife Stephanie reporting in an A. P. A. obituary, a serious question arises:  if you don't know a subject-matter from the inside, and indeed by sympathetic practice of that subject-matter, how seriously should we take what you have to say about that subject-matter?

For example, how seriously ought one take a philosopher of law who has never practiced law or who doesn't even have a law degree?  How seriously ought one take a philosopher of physics who has never done physics?  Such a philosopher does not know the subject from the inside by practice.  Equally, how seriously should one take a physicist such as the benighted Lawrence Krauss who does not know philosophy from the inside, by practice, yet pontificates about philosophical questions?  In the case of Krauss, though not in the case of all such physicists, we should not take him seriously at all.

To be a good philosopher of X one ought to know both philosophy and X from the inside, by practice.

Why should it be any different for the philosophy of religion?  I incline to the view that one should not take too seriously what a philosopher says about religion unless he knows religion from the inside by the sincere and sympathetic practice of a particular religion.  David Lewis, without a doubt, was one of the best philosophical practitioners of his generation.  And yet he understood nothing of religion from the inside.

I am not saying that we should dismiss what Lewis says about religion.  I am saying that we should not take it too seriously.  He literally doesn't know (by sympathetic practice,  from the inside) what he is talking about.

It cuts the other way too.  What many if not most religionists says about philosophy is stupid and pointless because it 'betrays' no understanding of philosophy from the inside by sympathetic practice. 

Theism is not a Religion

Yesterday I argued that atheism is not a religion.  Well, theism is not a religion either, but for different reasons.  Atheism is not a religion because it amounts to the rejection of the central commitment of anything that could legitimately be called a religion.  (So if atheism were a religion, it would amount to a rejection of itself.)  This core commitment is the affirmation of the  existence of a transcendent reality, whether of a personal or impersonal nature, contact or community or identification with which is the summum bonum and the ultimate purpose of human existence.

Theism is not a religion for at least two reasons.

First, there is no religion in general, only particular religions, and  theism is not a particular religion.  Theism is merely a proposition common to many different (monotheistic and polytheistic) religions.  It is the proposition that God or gods exist.  As such, it is simply the negation of the characteristic atheist proposition.  No extant religion consists of the theist's  bare metaphysical asseveration, and no possible religion could consist of it alone.

Second, both doctrine and practice are essential to a religion, but a theist needn't engage in any specifically theistic practice to be a theist.  He need only uphold the theoretical proposition that there is such a being or such beings as God or gods.

If theism is not a religion, then, as Tully Borland suggested to me, it is difficult to see how a reference to God in the Pledge of Allegiance could be construed as violating the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment to the U. S. Constitution.  The clause reads as follows: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof . . . ."

"One nation under God" from the Pledge is at most an affirmation of theism.  But theism is not a religion.  So the occurrence of the word 'God' in the pledge does nothing to establsh any religion as the state religion.  Understandably, atheists don't like that word in the Pledge, but the Establishment Clause gives them no ground for removing it.

Similarly with "In God We Trust" on our currency.  This is more than a bare affirmation (or  presupposition) of the existence of God; it brings in the further notion of trusting God, a notion that is admittedly religious.  But which religion is established by "In God We Trust"? Judaism? Christianity?  Islam?  All three Abrahamic religions have monotheism in common.  Obviously, if Congress were to establish a state religion it would have to be some one particular religion.  But no particular religion has proprietary rights in "In God We Trust."  So why should we think that the phrase violates the Establishment Clause.

And the same goes for the Ten Commandments as I maintained years ago when I first took to the 'sphere.  The Decalogue is common to the three Abrahamic religions.  So if a judge posts them in his chambers, which religion  is he establishing by so doing?

Once again we see what extremists contemporary iberals are.  The plain sense of the Establishment Clause is that there shall be no state religion.  One has to torture the Clause to extract from it justification to remove all references to God and every last vestige of religion from the public sphere, a sphere that ever expands under liberal fascism while the private sphere contracts.

A pox be upon the shysters of the ACLU and the leftist totalitarians who support them.  I have written many posts against the sophistical shysters of the ACLU ('shyster' is from Gr. scheissen, to shit).  See for example: Liberal Fascism: The Floral Variation.

Related:  No Chamber Pot in General, Danish Philosopher Maintains

Promise or Lie? Falsehood or Half-Truth?

Some pundits and journalists keep referring to Obama's signature "If you like it, you can keep it, period" as a promise.*  This is an incoherent  use of 'promise.'

Suppose  a loan originator hands you a mortgage contract and says, "I promise you that this loan is not callable." (A callable loan is one in which the lender reserves the right to demand payment in full, plus interest, at any time.)  If you are not stupid you will point out that this is not a question of the making and keeping of promises, but only one of the actual and explicit content of the contract.  You will demand to see where in the contract it is stated that the loan is not callable.  If the loan officer cannot locate the passage, or you find words to the effect that the loan is callable, then you know that the loan officer is lying about the content of the mortgage contract.  At this point you might say to the officer, ironically, "I see you broke your promise, or perhaps it was a false promise from the start."

The point ought to be obvious and equally obvious its relevance to Obama's signature lie.  One cannot promise what a document will contain given that there is an easily ascertainable fact as to what it does contain.  Obamacare was a bill before it became law, but either way it has a definite content. It is not for Obama to promise what is in the ACA but to report truthfully as to what the definite content is.

Coherent:  "I promise to sign the bill." "I promise to have a bill written that will provide that anyone who wants to keep his plan or doctor can do so." 

Incoherent:  "I promise that I was once an adjunct professor of  law."  "I promise that the ACA provides that anyone who wants to keep his plan can do so, period."  "I promise that if you read the bill, you will see that it does so provide."

If you insist that our  POMO POTUS made a promise with his signature avowal, will you say that he broke his promise or that he made an insincere promise from the start?  Either way you don't understand the concept of promising.

Another mistake that some journalists make is to  describe the Obama lie as a half truth.  Not so.  A statement that is false cannot be half-true.  Compare

1. All of you who like your plan can keep your plan, period.

2. Most of you who like your plan can keep your plan, period.

(1) is false and (2) is true.  (1) is not rendered half-true or partially true due to the presence of the universal quantifier or the fact that (1) entails (2).

 'All politcians lie' entails 'Some politicians lie.'  The latter is true; the former false, not half-true.  Note finally that 'wholly true' is pleonastic.

_________________

* For example, "President Barack Obama’s “if you like it, you can keep it” promise has House Democrats facing a dilemma as they look ahead to a vote on Republican legislation to preserve existing health plans."

ObamaCare Puts the Screws to Faculty Adjuncts

Adjuncts are the peons of the academic world, the lowest men and women on the collegiate totem pole, the bottom-most rungs of the ladder of higher education — pick your metaphor.  But a consequence of ObamaCare, intended or not, is that many are now worse off than they were before.  There is some irony in this considering that Obama himself was once an adjunct professor of law. 

Because they are paid so little, adjuncts must teach many courses to make a living.  But the ACA  requires employers with more than 50 full-time employees to provide health insurance if they work an average of 30 hours per week including work both within and outside the classroom.  Finding the financial burden too heavy to bear, many colleges have simply restricted the number of courses adjuncts can teach.  The result is that the lowly adjunct must shuttle between different institutions, wasting time and gasoline, to keep his number of courses the same. The top-down initiative that was intended to help the poorly paid part-timers ends up making them worse off.  Central planning in action.

For more, see this Chronicle of Higher Education piece.

Related: In Praise of a Lowly Adjunct

A Bad Reason for Thinking that Atheism is not a Religion

Atheism is not a religion.  But the following is not a good reason for thinking so:

Atheism (and here I mean the so-called “weak atheism” that does not claim proof that god does not exist), is just the lack of god-belief – nothing more and nothing less. And as someone once said, if atheism is a religion, not collecting stamps is a hobby.  That really ought to end the discussion right there. Clearly, a mere lack of belief in something cannot be a religion.

Right, a mere lack of belief in something cannot be a religion.  But atheism is not a mere lack of belief in something.  If atheism is just the lack of god-belief, then tables and chairs are atheists.  For they lack god-belief. Am I being uncharitable?  Suppose someone defines atheism more carefully as lack of god-belief in beings capable of having  beliefs.  That is still unacceptable.  Consider a child who lacks both god-belief and god-disbelief.  If lacking god-belief makes him an atheist, then lacking god-disbelief makes him a theist.  So he is both, which is absurd.

Obviously,  atheism is is not a mere lack of belief, but a definite belief, namely, the belief that the world is godless.  Atheism is a claim about the way things are: there is no such thing as the God of Judaism, or the God of Christianity, or the God of Islam, or the gods of the Greek pantheon, or . . . etc.  The atheist has a definite belief about the ontological inventory: it does not include God or gods or any reasonable facsimile thereof such as the Plotinian One, etc.  Note also that if you deny that any god exists, then you are denying that the universe is created by God: you are saying something quite positive about the ontological status of the universe, namely, that it does not depend for its existence on a being transcendent of it.  And if it does not so depend, then that implies that it exists on its own as a brute fact or that it necessarily exists or that it causes itself to exist.  Without getting into all the details here, the point is that if you deny that God exists, this is not just a denial  of the existence of a certain being, but implies a positive claim about the ontological status of the universe.  What's more, if  there is no creator God, then the apparent order of the universe, its apparent designedness, is merely apparent.  This is a positive thesis about the nature of the physical universe.

Atheism, then, is not a mere lack of god-belief.  For it implies definite positive beliefs about reality as a whole and  about the nature and mode of existence of the physical universe.

Why then is atheism not a religion?  No good purpose is served by using 'religion' to refer to any set of action-guiding beliefs held with fervor and commitment.  For if one talks in that hopelessly loose way, then extreme environmentalism and Communism are religions.

Although it is not easy to craft a really satisfactory definition of religion, I would say that  all and only religions affirm the existence of a transcendent reality,
whether of a personal or impersonal nature, contact or community or
identification with which is the summum bonum and the ultimate purpose
of human existence.  For the Abrahamic faiths, Yahweh, God, Allah  is the
transcendent reality.  For Taoism, the Tao.  For Hinduism, Brahman.  For
(Mahayana) Buddhism, the transcendent state of nirvana.  Since atheists precisely deny  any such transcendent reality contact with which is our highest good and ultimate purpose, atheism is not a religion.

"But aren't militant atheists very much like certain zealous religionists?  Doesn't militant atheism function in their lives much as religion functions in the life of the religiously zealous?"  No doubt, but if one thing is like another, that is not to say that the one thing is the
other or is a species of the other.

And another thing.  If atheism is not a religion, then, while there can be atheist associations, there cannot be, in any serious sense of the word, an atheist church.

Bozo De Blasio, New York City, and ‘Lack of Diversity’

From a  piece both pithy and penetrating by David P. Goldman (HT: Bill Keezer):

There has been considerable hand-wringing during the past few years about “lack of diversity” in the eight public high schools [of NYC] that require written exams. Asians are 14% of the public school population, but 50% of the elite high school population (the same proportion applies to Hunter College’s free public high school). By and large the Asian entrants are the children of working-class immigrants who pay extra tuition to prepare them for the entrance exams.

The NAACP has filed a complaint against the school system demanding racial quotas. The same concern for those “left behind” motivated the open admissions program in the City University system in 1969, which nearly ruined the system until CUNY found a way to shunt the underperformers into the community college system. (See chart at bottom of page.)

The above clearly illustrates what is so deeply wrong with the liberal-left way of thinking.  It is true that Asians are disproportionately represented in the best NYC high schools.  But this is not anything that needs remedying.  It simply reflects the fact that Asians, as a group, have different values than blacks, better study habits, and are of higher intelligence.  Notice, I said as a group.  That's reality.  But leftists are here as elsewhere in the business of reality denial.  Leftists confuse the world with the way they would like the world to be.  But things are as they are regardless of human hopes and dreams and desires. 

Some inequalities have come about through wrongs that ought to have been righted, and have been righted.  But the inequality of Asians and blacks as regards values and study habits and intelligence has not come about though any wrongdoing.  Slavery was outlawed almost 150 years ago when the Thirteenth Amendment to the U. S. Constitution was ratified on 6 December 1865.  Jim Crow was outlawed almost 50 years ago.  There is no de jure racism in the U. S.  and very little de facto racism.  The 'overrepresentation' of Asians is the predictable outcome of the differences between Asian and black culture, values, and innate intelligence.

By the way, one ought to be very careful with the word 'overrepresent' and its opposite.  It is ambiguous as between normative and nonnormative readings.  It is just a value-neutral fact that there are proportionately more Asians than blacks in the elite high schools of NYC.  But it doesn't follow that this state of affairs is one that ought not be, or that it would be better if there were proportional representation.

Consider the sports analogy.  Asians are 'underrepresented' on basketball teams.  That is a fact.  But it doesn't follow that this state of affairs is one that ought not
be, or that it would be better if there were proportional
representation.  Enforced proportional representation would adversely affect the quality of basketball games.

Since we are now back to the delightful and heart-warming topic of race/ ethnicity, let's talk about Jews.  They are 'overrepresented' in the chess world so much so that there is much truth to the old joke that chess is Jewish athletics.  Should the government do something about this 'problem'?  (This is what is called a rhetorical question.)

I once told my Jewish and Israeli friend Peter that I had never met a stupid Jew.  He shot back, "Then you've never lived in Israel."  The very alacrity of his comeback, however, proved (or at least provided further evidence for) my point.

In the interests of full disclosure, I should point out that I am not now, and never have been, either an Asian or a Jew or an Israeli. 

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Some Recent Dylan Bootleg Releases


Dylan another self potraitSong to Woody.  This version from the 1970 New Morning sessions, but not included on that album.  Originally heard on Dylan's first album.

Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues.  This version too from the 1970 New Morning sessions.  First heard on the 1966 Highway 61 Revisited album. Ramblin' Jack Elliot delivers a haunting version.

When I Paint My Masterpiece. Another Self Portrait, Bootleg Series. vol. 10.  The Band's version.

Intro to Another Self Portrait, Bootleg Series. vol. 10.