Cogito, Ergo Sumana for 2005 March 6

# 06 Mar 2005, 10:38PM: More On Usury, & Eric And Dylan As Shylocks: I have not yet seen the new Merchant of Venice movie. While considering watching it, I came across an essay on Shylock.

....The Magna Carta, the basis for English constitutional law, is itself a testament to the growing unpopularity of Jewish money-lending activities. Two clauses in the 1215 document state that if a debtor dies before his debt is paid, neither his heir nor his widow will be responsible for repaying the debt....
In Shylock's final scene, Shakespeare had him act out another stereotype: a ritual murder. Of course, there is no mention in the play that Shylock would use Antonio's blood in any religious ritual. But the audience would have immediately associated the stage action with the myth. Shakespeare seemed to be giving his audience exactly what they expect from a stage Jew. In Portia, the audience got the means to stop the ritual murder because she would not let the Jew shed one drop of Christian blood. The text specifically says "Christian," reinforcing the "blood libel" legends....

Filed under: Religion

# 06 Mar 2005, 11:00PM: Movies: I got to see Bride and Prejudice recently, as well as Hitch.

B&P was worth watching, but had some truly "whaaaa?" badness. Many of the songs are in English and sound stupid. Due to a charisma deficit and a lack of singing, the male lead doesn't really convince us of why the female lead should love him. The movie contains a tiny bit of class discussion, but the servants are completely ignored! But I'm Indian-American, so I had to watch, and I did enjoy it. Also, you will laugh at how Rai twists the famous first line of Austen's Pride and Prejudice, and non-Indians dancing in Bollywood style = funny.

Hitch is unfortunately not about Christopher Hitchens. It is a very capable Will Smith vehicle and made me laugh and say "awwww". Smith can pull off melodrama that others couldn't, and I found the dialogue and most of the plot devices quite acceptable. Recommended.

Oh, and I got to show Leonard Office Space today. Office Space speaks to an essential truth about knowledge work and the management of corporations. So does The Matrix, which I will probably never get Leonard to see. You'd think I'm playing Airplane with the spoon full of peas.

# 06 Mar 2005, 11:11PM: Don't Get Me Started On The SFO Post Office That's Open 18 Hours A Day Including Sundays: My father, a civil engineer and Hindu priest, and my mother, a homemaker with a master's in literature, founded Amerikannada together. It was a family affair from the beginning. My parents solicited articles from their friends, fellow immigrants from India's Karnataka state. They all spoke Kannada, a language with a rich heritage that my parents wanted to keep alive in the American diaspora. Hence the name. The logo featured a griffin-like creature, half-lion, half-bald eagle.

As my parents processed subscriptions, wrote, and edited, my sister and I stapled, stamped, glued, and sealed bits of paper in languages we couldn't quite yet read. We used the magical bulk-mail stickers, red and orange and green with single-letter codes, and piled envelopes into burlap sacks and plastic bins for the frequent trips to the post office.

It was always my Dad who took the Amerikannada mail to the post office. He was strong in those days, heaving the great bags of mail like an Indian Santa Claus alongside the blue-uniformed workers on the loading dock, the part of the post office most people never use or even see. My sister and I came along, not to help -- how could we? -- but to keep my Dad company.

The magazine died. The Internet entered our lives. My father grew frail. I never saw the bulk stickers again; companies now print barcodes on envelopes for presorting.

Salon moved into Rincon Center in February. I've discovered a post office downstairs. I think my coworkers don't entirely share my glee. Sure, it is convenient for changing one's address and for sending packages. But the most exciting part is the tiny philately department that sells the special collector's stamps. I thought it was a museum at first, since the displays take up so much of the room. I saw stamps of odd denominations, strange shapes, spare designs and colorful ones, and even collector's stamps that are not valid for postage.

A wizened collector stood at the counter, asking for a few rows of a Reagan and a panel of sparrows. He and the seller spoke in code, in mantras, in reverence for these stickers that mean more than simply payment for the conveyance of an envelope.

The next time my Dad comes to SF, I want to take him to the philately room. Maybe they'll have a lion stamp somewhere that I can smoosh together with an eagle stamp. He always did want me to take over the magazine.