Archive for February, 2014

Quote of the day: AUTISM

February 25, 2014

AUTISM

When you read as much as I have about autism, everyone after a while begins to look autistic; everyone fits somewhere along the “autism spectrum,” just as it was a few years ago when it was discovered that we are all gay, that we all fit somewhere along the homosexual spectrum. (I suppose, consistent with this argument, we all fit somewhere along the heterosexual spectrum, as well.) It was interesting to see how many traits Cristina shared with our son, traits that in his case were numbered as symptoms under the broad canopy of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD): literal-mindedness, awkward personal interaction, dearth of social interest (except with family members), hypersensitivity to stimuli, wandering attention, lack of empathy, rages when rituals were disrupted. Some of these traits, in Cristina’s case, could be chalked up to her having been struck senseless by a drunk driver in Zacatecas, but she admits that she’s always been spacey and not too social, that her personality hasn’t changed markedly since it was formed.

That makes me reflect on what a friend told me after I’d remarked about the preponderance of mathematicians bunched along the autism spectrum: He’d known a number of high-functioning autistics at NASA. One in particular, an eccentric experimental physicist named Bunthram, insisted, “I’m not autistic. I’m Bunthram.” Bunthram didn’t believe in autism. What most people considered autism, Bunthram considered part and parcel of the genetic bundle that came with a logical mind. Furthermore, Bunthram didn’t want to be social or to be touched or to play volleyball or square-dance or sit around a bonfire singing, “Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree.” He wanted to work and to be left alone. He liked his one-dimensional life and his job and his apartment, his cats and the TV shows Battlestar Galactica, Airwolf, and Charmed. He thought most people were oversocialized, but that was their business. His hero was Nikola Tesla, one of the landmark intellects of all time, who wouldn’t have achieved greatness without his ASD tendencies toward isolation, celibacy, pattern obsession, ritualism, and the rest of that prototypical geek package.

I am always relieved to come across optimistic views on autism. I suspect that autism is a natural intellectual function correlating to our increasing need for specialized, nonlinear, and advanced “thinking styles” and not a disease or a “developmental disorder.” The work of Simon Baron-Cohen — not the comedian but the psychopathologist at Cambridge University (do they call you a “psychopath” for short, Simon?) — illustrates this view. Baron-Cohen has been doing genetic research on autism for years and has theorized that most autistics have a drive to systematize. Mathematicians, physicists, engineers, logicians, number theorists, software programmers, and quantum cryptographers are all good examples of systematizers, and in each of these fields you’ll find higher rates of autism.

Systematizers are much more likely to be male as well as autistic. About 80 percent of all autistics are male. Baron-Cohen proposes that autism is therefore an extreme male-brained profile. But this doesn’t make it inherently psychopathological. In fact, autistics, by their asocial predispositions, narrow preoccupations, tendencies toward ritual and repetition, sensory filtering, and so on, are able to work long periods without distractions on deep projects that might bore other people to death. Think space travel and the overall management of a cyber-connected universe.

At the end of any spectrum is dysfunction, chaos, madness, disease, and snack machines getting pushed over. On the political continuum both the Left and the Right, when unimpeded, lead to totalitarianism. And I wouldn’t want to rely too heavily on psychology or go all New Age on you and declare that autism is a gift. It does, however, seem possible that, with its considerable claim on the population, its numerous talented representatives, its frequent association with rapid brain growth, and its continued ability despite exhaustive research to evade cause or cure, what we’re calling “autism” (and the heavy psychological inference of “abnormality” or “disorder”) might well instead be cerebral evolution.

Cristina is a systematizer, too. She gravitated to a profession — dentistry — that demands close attention to detail, along with emotional distance from pain and patients she is literally inside of. Often on Saturdays when we were courting in Mexico, she couldn’t go out because she had to “organize” her room. Everything in our house has a place. I don’t get to put anything where I like. I find my books in a neat stack on the end table each time I sit down to read. Whenever she works with me, whether cooking in the Olde Main kitchen or on a side job I pick up, we end up arguing before we do things her way. I am constantly startling her as I come around a corner or out of a room, even though she knows I am in the house. Faithfully, like a prisoner in solitary, she’ll put an X through each day on the calendar with a black ink pen. Staring at me as I explain something to her, she’ll say when I am through, “You need to trim your eyebrows.” She’ll check the dishes after I’ve washed them, remake the bed the way she likes it, refold the clothes after I’ve done laundry, and tell me what shoes to wear, which used to lead to an argument, since it seemed to me more like nagging than a drive to systematize. Her job as a dental assistant is extremely important to her, and she puts so much into her work (she’s the best worker I’ve ever known) that now she barely has the energy to quarrel when she gets home in the evenings.

Most noteworthy in all of this is that, at the other end of Baron-Cohen’s systematization spectrum, as we part from masculine science and sine-cosine-tangent, we find the feminine empathizers, those who have the ability to identify with others, imagine how they feel, read facial expressions, make a crawfish étouffée with steamed asparagus and jasmine rice, give change to panhandlers, and not intentionally say hurtful or antagonistic things. As a rule, systematizing and empathizing are opposed. If you’re strong on systematizing, then you don’t want some goober to come along and mess it all up. If you’re long on empathizing, then it isn’t likely that you’ll stare willingly into an electron microscope for twelve hours or obsess about how the pillows are arranged on the couch. Systematizers are rule-based, less flexible, and more inclined to stick to patterns and positions. Empathizers are more emotionally oriented and free-form in approach, care less about rules than about getting along, and usually give in when the argument starts because, really, what difference does it make what shoes I wear if I’m driving you all the way to Omaha?

— Poe Ballantine, Love & Terror on the Howling Plains of Nowhere

poe ballantine

Photo diary: walking tour of Castles of Northern Manhattan

February 24, 2014

(click photos to enlarge)

2-23 tour guide danielle
Andy’s old friend and colleague Danielle Oteri, an art historian who works at the Cloisters, has her own company, Feast on History, which offers walking tours of historical New York combined with eating and sometimes drinking (libations curated by her husband, Christian Galliani, of Wineforthe99.com). We took her up on this intriguing expedition that started in Washington Heights at the Rusty Mackerel. We had a yummy brunch while Danielle told us about the book that has inspired a series of walks, early 20th century newspaper reporter Helen Worden’s Round Manhattan’s Rim.

Our first stop took us to the site of Castle Paterno, built in 1909 by real estate developer Charles Paterno, who in 1939 tore it down and built the Castle Village apartment complex. There are a few traces of the original place, including a couple of marble stancheons on Cabrini Boulevard between 181st and 186th Streets.

Our first stop took us to the site of Castle Paterno, built in 1909 by real estate developer Charles Paterno, who in 1939 tore it down and built the Castle Village apartment complex. There are a few traces of the original place, including a couple of marble stancheons on Cabrini Boulevard between 181st and 186th Streets.

Then we jumped on the bus and went down to 155th and Broadway, where John James Audobon once had a mansion and surrounding park known as Minnesland. Demolished in 1931, the mansion gave way to the complex of art museums known as Audobon Terrace, whose best-known tenant might be the American Academy of Arts and Letters, whose Beaux Art facade bears the engraved legend "All Passes Art Alone Untiring Stays On Us."

Then we jumped on the bus and went down to 155th and Broadway, where John James Audobon once had a mansion and surrounding park known as Minnesland. Demolished in 1931, the mansion gave way to the complex of art museums known as Audobon Terrace, whose best-known tenant might be the American Academy of Arts and Letters, whose Beaux Art facade bears the engraved legend “All Passes Art Alone Untiring Stays On Us.”

Other tenants formerly included the Museum of American Indian (now relocated downtown), the American Numismatic Society, and the American Geographic Society.  The one remaining thriving institution is the Hispanic Society of America, founded by philanthropist Archer Milton Huntington in 1904. Danielle considers this museum to be one of the most overlooked treasures in New York City.

Other tenants formerly included the Museum of American Indian (now relocated downtown), the American Numismatic Society, and the American Geographic Society. The one remaining thriving institution is the Hispanic Society of America, founded by philanthropist Archer Milton Huntington in 1904. Danielle considers this museum to be one of the most overlooked treasures in New York City.

The nine statues out front, including this imposing depiction of El Cid, were created by Huntington's wife Anna Hyatt Huntington.

The nine statues out front, including this imposing depiction of El Cid, were created by Huntington’s wife Anna Hyatt Huntington.

The museum resembles the Frick, in that it houses a private collection amassed by a wealthy individual with particular, discerning taste. It includes some major paintings by major artists, such as this portrait of St. Jerome by El Greco.

The museum resembles the Frick, in that it houses a private collection amassed by a wealthy individual with particular, discerning taste. It includes some major paintings by major artists, such as this portrait of St. Jerome by El Greco.

Goya's famous portrait of the widow and legendary beauty Duchess of Alba is a centerpiece of the collection.

Goya’s famous portrait of the widow and legendary beauty Duchess of Alba is a centerpiece of the collection.

There's also Antonis Mor's portrait of the Duke of Alba, which explains why the Dutchess was so distraught after his death.

There’s also Antonis Mor’s portrait of the Duke of Alba, which explains why the Dutchess was so distraught after his death.

Among the many household, funerary, and decorative items on display are a couple of the few extant mosaic paintings known as enconchados -- I very much liked this one, created by an unknown artist in Cuzco, Peru, around 1750

Among the many household, funerary, and decorative items on display are a couple of the few extant mosaic paintings known as enconchados — I very much liked this one, created by an unknown artist in Cuzco, Peru, around 1750

But the most dazzling room in the museum is dedicated to 14 paintings commissioned by Huntington from Joaquin Sorolla y Bastido depicting his Vision of Spain.

But the most dazzling room in the museum is dedicated to 14 paintings commissioned by Huntington from Joaquin Sorolla y Bastido depicting his Vision of Spain.

These paintings are extraodinary. My favorite was this one of dancers in Seville.

These paintings are extraordinary. My favorite was this one of dancers in Seville.

 

Quote of the day: REPETITION

February 21, 2014

REPETITION

Repetition has a numbing effect on me. If you tell me the same story over and over again, I start erasing my memory of it, because I believe you don’t expect me to remember. “Help Me,” Joni Mitchell’s one big certifiable Top 40 smash hit, was so ubiquitous when it came out in 1974 that I quickly stopped listening closely to the words. Only lately, and again watching Jessica Molaskey sing “Help Me” in her American Songbook show “Portraits of Joni,” have I come to appreciate the crazy originality of the lyric and how it uses repetition for epicurean insistence:

Didn’t it feel good
We were sitting there talking
Or lying there not talking
Didn’t it feel good
You dance with the lady
With the hole in her stocking
Didn’t it feel good
Didn’t it feel goooooood

And just in case you didn’t get the point, the backup singers add:

Didn’t it feel good?
Didn’t it feel good?
Didn’t it feel good?
Didn’t it feel good?

— Don Shewey

Joni Mitchell Live

Quote of the day: LOVE

February 14, 2014

LOVE

My splendid colleague Bob Bingham, dying in his late fifties, was asked by a friend what he’d missed or would do differently if given the chance. He thought for an instant, and said, “More venery.”
More venery. More love; more closeness; more sex and romance. Bring it back, no matter what, no matter how old we are. This fervent cry of ours has been certified by Simone de Beauvoir and Alice Munro and Laurence Olivier and any number of remarried or recoupled ancient classmates of ours. Laurence Olivier? I’m thinking of what he says somewhere in an interview: “Inside, we’re all seventeen, with red lips.”
This is a dodgy subject, coming as it does here from a recent widower, and I will risk a further breach of code and add that this was something that Carol and I now and then idly discussed. We didn’t quite see the point of memorial fidelity. In our view, the departed spouse – we always thought it would be me – wouldn’t be around anymore but knew or had known that he or she was loved forever. Please go ahead, then, sweetheart – don’t miss a moment. Carol said this last: “If you haven’t found someone else by a year after I’m gone I’ll come back and haunt you.”
Getting old is the second-biggest surprise of my life, but the first, by a mile, is our unceasing need for deep attachment and intimate love. We oldies yearn daily and hourly for conversation and a renewed domesticity, for company at the movies or while visiting a museum, for someone close by in the car when coming home at night. This is why we throng Match.com and OkCupid in such numbers – but not just for this, surely. Rowing in Eden (in Emily Dickinson’s words: “Rowing in Eden–/Ah—the sea”) isn’t reserved for the lithe and young, the dating or the hooked-up or the just lavishly married, or even for couples in the middle-aged mixed-doubles semifinals, thank God. No personal confession or revelation impends here, but these feelings in old folks are widely treated like a raunchy secret. The invisibility factor – you’ve had your turn – is back at it again. But I believe that everyone in the world wants to be with someone else tonight, together in the dark, with the sweet warmth of a hip or a foot or a bare expanse of shoulder within reach. Those of us who have lost that, whatever our age, never lose the longing: just look at our faces. If it returns, we seize upon it avidly, stunned and altered again.

— Roger Angell

Amour film still

Quote of the day: SOCIAL MEDIA

February 11, 2014

SOCIAL MEDIA

I don’t tweet for a very simple reason, which is that I drink.

— Lorne Michaels

LORNE michaels

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