I recently learned of a proposed scientific theory (note: not an accepted theory) which seeks to solve the “fine-tuning problem” of how the parameters necessary for the existence of the cosmos came to be, as they are, suited for the creation of matter, stars, planets, life:
[Cosmological Natural Selection] first notes the apparent symmetry between the Big Bang, in which stars and particles were spewed out of a dimensionless point at the birth of our Universe, and the Big Crunch, the scenario for the end of our Universe when a supermassive black hole swallows up stars and particles before vanishing back into a dimensionless point. This symmetry has led many cosmologists to propose that black holes in our Universe might be the ‘other side’ of Big Bangs of other universes, expanding elsewhere. In this scenario, time did not begin at the Big Bang, but continues backwards through to the death of its parent universe in a Big Crunch, through to its birth from a black hole, and so on, stretching backward in time, potentially into infinity. Not only that but, since our region of the Universe is filled with an estimated 100 billion supermassive black holes, [Lee] Smolin proposes that each is the progenitor of one of 100 billion universes that have descended from our own.
That last line in particular suggests to this genre-obsessed layperson a potential connection to the Many-Worlds Theory of quantum mechanics. Or maybe I’m just hearing what I want to because it sounds super cool.
Civic-ility
Election Day 2021 is in a week and a day (2 November). In Maine, we’ll be voting on several questions. (Yes, this section is about politics in my neck of the woods, and maybe yours). If you’re in Maine, and not entirely off-grid, you’ve probably seen a ludicrous amount of advertising on Question 1 in particular. If these ads are all you know of the question, you may have no idea of the initiative’s real intent.
Maine Question 1, or the “Electric Transmission Line Restrictions and Legislative Approval Initiative (2021),” has been obscured by the influence of a lot of money and deeply reductive sloganeering. It seeks to do the following:
Prohibit the construction of electric transmission lines defined as high-impact in the Upper Kennebec Region, including the NECEC, and
Require a two-thirds vote of each state legislative chamber to approve high-impact electric transmission line projects.
Supporters of the initiative comes from across the political spectrum, and their message largely boils down to "Stop the CMP Corridor.” Central Maine Power (CMP) is the largest electric utility in the state and they previously secured the right to build what they term a “clean energy corridor” through the Upper Kennebec Region. This is pristine, largely untouched land and there is little love lost on CMP besides. The corridor is highly unpopular, so getting the necessary signatures to put this citizen initiative on the ballot wasn’t terribly difficult.
Opponents of the initiative know well that the corridor is unpopular. They have been calling on people to “Vote No on Retroactive Laws.” The entire message boils down to “take-backsies is unfair!” because their only hope is sleight of hand and misinformation. That doesn’t mean it won’t work, but I think Maine voters will see through this.
In Portland, we will be voting to fill multiple vacancies on the city council and school board. Over the past month, the campaign has gotten messy. We have some truly progressive folks running and the mayor/city council/local media have come out strongly in favor of their Chamber of Commerce-backed opponents. In response to necessary and overdue objections to systemic racism, the old guard cries “divisiveness.” Make no mistake, what they mean is “yes to the status quo, and sit down POCs!”
In a particularly gross example, a local columnist jumped to the “defense” of a recently promoted (white) principal when she faced criticism for her slanderous attack on two BIPOC women recently elected to the Charter Commission (previously on Ephemera).
Reactionaries are gonna react. Maine is an incredibly white state (>90%) and despite having one of the most diverse populations in the state, Portland isn’t far off that same mark (~84%). The city and state both often consider themselves above partisan politics. We have to remember all of this when we hear claims that Maine/Portland doesn’t have a a racial divide like other cities. If only we were so special. We. Are. Not.
I’ve already spent more words on this than I intended to, so I’ll leave you with the following:
Choose your sources well - the Portland Press Herald should apologize for and retract the column that jumped to silence BIPOC women when a white woman threw a fit.
If you’re anywhere in Maine, vote Yes on Question 1 to block the CMP corridor.
If you’re in Portland, please vote for Pelletier in D2, Curran (#1)/Rodriguez (#2) for At-Large, and ‘A’ on the local referendum re: shelters.
And while I have you, while we’re already talking CMP, why don’t you join us in the Our Power campaign to kick CMP out altogether in favor of a utility owned by the people!
End of month update: much of the above text was written at mid-month, but neither the Portland Press Herald in particular nor the local media discourse in general were quite finished stepping in it. The writer of the gross example above gave the typical half-hearted apology that didn’t recognize any racial angle, and Mainer (previously) was pulled from all the grocery stores in the area. It’s all still ongoing, but damn it just never ends.
Trivia Trivia
Trivial is a word used to describe that which is commonplace, ordinary, and of little worth. This was not always so, but the word’s modern meaning possess still a bit of its former stature.
Like so many public works (the aqueducts for sanitation—albeit with a ton of lead—and paved roads for transportation), we take the modern word trivial from the Romans. In Latin, the word trivialis meant “public,” hence the “commonplace” definition of trivial today. Turn that Latin adjective into its noun form and you have trivia, plural of trivium, or “the place where three roads meet.”
Roman roads across Europe long outlasted the Roman Empire. Before the fall of Rome, trivium were ideal places for signposts to alert passersby of the news of the empire. The connection at that time went only so far. Trivia were the places one went for news, but the information itself would not be known as trivia for centuries yet.
On the way to its modern usage, trivia took on a new tripartite meaning during the medieval period. Trivium then referred to the threefold education curriculum of grammar, logic, and rhetoric. Trivium was the prerequisite for quadrivium, or the fourfold discipline made up of arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy. All together, trivium and quadrivium made for the foundation of a liberal arts education (writing, logic, music, math, and science).
It took a bit of license, clever word play, wit, and pedantry for trivia to shift to its modern meaning of “unimportant matters” or “trivial facts,” but one part of the word’s shift over time irks me.
That which is commonplace, that which is trivial, ought not be thought automatically unimportant. Those signposts of ancient Rome were an incredible innovation. And trivia is, frankly, kick ass. I guess if could have been worse.
Just Verbin’
I don’t know if this is true across the English speaking world, but I recall being taught the difference between a simile and a metaphor at a pretty young age. We were young enough that we were taught incorrectly, by way of adage, that the sole important distinction between simile and metaphor was the use of the words “like” or “as.” For instance, saying “Tina is like a cat, moving through the night” is a simile, whereas “Tina was a cat moving through the night” is a metaphor.
Similar to the “i before e” rule taught to school children, the “like or as” rule isn’t, strictly speaking, wrong; it’s overly reductive. In the case of the former, it is also more often wrong than right.
I may have come across the names for other rhetorical devices in the interim, but if memory serves I was in graduate school before I learned any that continue to stick in my mind. Synecdoche is a personal favorite. Synecdoche is a figure of speech where a part is put in for the whole. You might call your car “my wheels,” or you might “break bread” with someone, but undoubtedly you are eating more than bread alone.
I recently learned the name of a rhetorical device that I love every bit as much as synecdoche. I’ll let Mental Floss explain:
5. ANTIMERIA
If you’ve ever friended or texted someone, emailed or DMed something, tabled a meeting or motorwayed your way across country, then you’ll be familiar with antimeria, a rhetorical device in which an existing word is used as if it were a different part of speech. More often than not this involves using a noun as if it were a verb, a semantic process better known as “verbing” (which is actually a perfect example of itself). Slang (and modern English in general, for that matter) loves antimeria, but it is Shakespeare who remains the undisputed master of it. Cake, drug, kitchen, squabble, ghost, blanket, graze, elbow, and crank were all only ever used as nouns before he got hold of them.
Verbing nouns feels like something that has become more in the past twenty years, but I can’t tell if that is simply personal bias. I ought to look into that. Whether it occurs more frequently today or not, antimeria are everywhere. To be honest, I barely scratch the surface here.
You Might Like…
Maybe it’s the increasingly cozy weather, maybe it’s the shifting sands of my own life, but I feel like I’ve been spoiled by all the excellent things I’ve been reading/watching/listening to lately. Just in case you find yourself in a bit of a lull, I thought I’d offer some suggestions:
Film: Princess Mononoke
An ambiguous, fantastic tale of the natural world and traditional life coming into conflict with industrial development and progressive cultural mores. This might be the first anime I’ve ever really loved (I appreciate the form, but it’s not for me).
TV: Midnight Mass
A thrilling and deeply humane limited horror series from Mike Flanagan that takes on religious zeal, racist bigotry, and the possibility of redemption in a remote island community. I was deeply moved by the mediations on which the show goes out.
Book: Small Gods by Terry Pratchett
For no particularly good reason, I never got into Pratchett’s work. I think I must have read him previously during a self-serious phase punctuated by many heavy, unpleasant novels. His humor is surpassed only by his incisive ability to interrogate heady topics and communicate them clearly and simply. Small Gods is a great entry point to his massive Discworld series because it’s one of the rare standalone novels.
Podcast: Mandatory Redistribution Party
I came by this podcast thanks to a recommendation from McKinley Valentine. It’s a leftist commentary podcast hosted by a couple of English comedians that, in their own words, “is about big ideas rather than taking pot shots at whatever dead eyed suit fronts the news cycle each week.” It’s thoughtful and absolutely hilarious.
Music: Dreamland by Glass Animals
This album came out last year, and I liked it fine then but have come to love it in the past couple of months. The band is sometimes characterized as psychedelic pop, which doesn’t seem quite right but I can’t think of anything better to call it. It’s not the kind of thing I listen too often, but I’ve probably streamed the album 2 dozen times at least.