the libertine
the whip sheet of the
liberal party
issue nine / 31.03.2002
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a message from the
secretary I
am late—again—because I had to prepare for hours and hours to do passably
well on my Latin midterm. Here we go: You
might not know that, while I always wanted to go to Yale, for a long time
(and, indeed, still) I’ve kindled a strong desire to attend St Andrews, the
Scottish university so that is old the apostrophe wasn’t even invented when
it was named and that has recently gained too much fame for my taste since
the matriculation of Prince William. Now, word comes—assuming, as I think I
can safely do, that this isn’t some pathetically cruel April Fools’ Day
joke—that the students have rallied to appoint as their new rector none other
than Anne Robinson, the strapping redheaded martinet that is the host of the
British and American versions of The Weakest Link. Apparently the
rector is a student-appointed post, and Anne is flattered. She said, in a
news brief, that “I think it’s a
terrific university. I would take an active role because I don’t think there
is any point in having me unless you want a really bossy rector who makes
rude comments about people.” Ah, the charm. I
downloaded Alanis Morissette’s new album, the charmingly titled Under Rug
Swept, and I really, really like it. I’ve never been a big fan of hers;
I’ve always found her tremendously overwrought. (Which, however, is why I
liked her unplugged album.) Now, having ditched her questionable co-writer
and having grown up a bit, she’s produced a startling, consistently
high-quality album with a kick-ass first track: “21 Things I Want in a
Lover.” In case you’re reading this, Alanis: I have eighteen things you’re
looking for. That isn’t bad. I
met with the DUS of the art department today (at 9:00 a.m., no less), and
while the meeting was very promising, I found out that summer credit is
ineligible for the major. My nerves are buckling. This
weekend is Dixwell Day, the Liberal Party’s annual student-alumni gathering.
As a freshman, I’ve never been to the big bash before, but the word on the
street is that the day is unrivaled for the title of bounciest debate of the
year. We’ll be having a debate, going to a banquet dinner, attending the
famous Telling of the Dixwell Story on the New Haven Green, having a Lib
Party Party, and enjoying countless other surprises. We hope that you’ll
come. It’s
a beautiful today: get away from your computer! –j.s.f. |
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goings on in the liberal
party 01.04.2002
/ Monday / 05.30 / Lib dinner Join us in a few hours in Commons under the portrait of George H.W. Bush. 02.04.2002
/ Tuesday / 07.30 / YPU debate The Yale Political Union hosts the second of its spate of liberals tonight. The guest speaker is the fetching Jennifer Ferenstein, the president of the Sierra Club, the first and largest grassroots environmental advocacy group in the nation. She will speak in favor of the resolution “National security depends on reducing our reliance on fossil fuels.” Join us in the lovelier-than-you-think Davies Auditorium to speak or just to watch. 06.04.2002
/ Saturday / 03.30 / Lib debate Dixwell Day begins with a rousing, always popular debate: “The left is elitist.” Can intellectual liberals speak for workers? Is leftism inherently patronizing? Students and alumni will tackle the questions posed by this resolution this afternoon in the Davenport common room. 06.04.2002
/ Saturday / 06.15 / Lib banquet at Lalibela Dixwell Day continues with a grand dinner at Lalibela restaurant, which other people have heard of. According to our intrepid vice-president Carey Seal, however, it’s very, very good. If you’d like to attend, RSVP (or, if we’re on good terms, RSTP) to carey.seal@yale.edu as soon as possible. 06.04.2002
/ Saturday / 08.00 / The renowned Telling of the Dixwell Story Dixwell
Day moves to the New Haven Green now for the annual event at which we hear
the epic behind our eponymous hero. 06.04.2002
/ Saturday / 08.30 / Surprise! Hmm… 06.04.2002
/ Saturday / 10.00 / Lib Party party If you’re still in shock at the amazing surprise you experienced just an hour and a half ago, come drink it off in Senwung’s room, Silliman 1718 in entryway C. All are invited to finish off Dixwell Day with students, alumni, and assorted beverages. |
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artist of the left: george
grosz, painter [Note: because I don’t know much about Grosz, I plagiarized a good deal of this from the Oxford Dictionary of Art, 1997 edition. Please don’t despise me. Also, while I’m in this note, let me tell you that I only recently became interested in Grosz when I visited the Neue Galerie, the new 20th century German and Austrian art museum in New York, over spring break. There, I took my coat off in a gallery and an Aryan security guard came over and said, “Excuse me, sir, but you’ll have to put that back on.” Gosh. –j.s.f.]
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a final thought I
never had an idol. I respect people completely and I’m so happy that they
exist and they’re making all these great things for us, but I never felt like
that. It’s like a sado-maso thing, innit? You wanna, like, humiliate
yourself, and that’s the aspect of it—when people come to me, like fans and
stuff—that I don’t like. It’s not that I’m too arrogant, more the fact that
people are humiliating themselves in front of me, and that is embarrassing. I
feel like talking to them like my kid, like: Stop it, stand up. You have to
believe in some sort of human-ness: everybody’s fucking equal. Let’s
communicate on that level, please. —Björk |
Born
in 1893, George Grosz began his career as a caricaturist. In his earliest
drawings he was already manifesting his leftism; his merciless depictions of
the Prussian military caste and ruling Brahmins made him intensely unpopular
among the élite in his native Germany. During the First World War, he
enlisted twice in the German army, but by 1917 he had become disenchanted
with the war and created perhaps his most famous image, the drawing “Fit for
Active Service,” which depicts a portly doctor who pronounces a skeleton fit
for duty. He joined the Communist Party in 1918, and, like many continental
leftist artists between the wars, he fell in with the Dada school and the
Marxist-Freudian theories of Tristan Tzara and André Breton. However, he never
became a complete Dadaist or Surrealist; instead, he and Otto Dix inaugurated
a school of their own. Called the Neue Sachlichkeit (the New Objectivity), it
build upon the Expressionism of Kandinsky and Kirchner by incorporating
realism for the purposes of social satire. In his paintings and drawings of
this period, Grosz ripped into Weimar Germany’s decay at the expense of the
poor. By 1933, however, the Neue Sachlichkeit had been crushed by the Nazis,
and Grosz’s politics had made him, as the party described him, “Cultural
Bolshevist Number One.” In America he abandoned social satire, disappointed
that he had never won great acclaim as a serious painter; his later work,
including his brooding self-portraits, form a departure from his earlier,
more socially concerned work. He moved back to Germany in 1959, and he died
soon after when he fell down a flight of stairs.