2025

DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHAT CANDYLAND REPRESENTS:

Curious questions: Where did the Snakes and Ladders board game come from? (Rob Crossan, 2/8/25, Country Life)

Absurd as it may sound to our ears, historians contend that Snakes and Ladders was originally designed to teach us about liberation from the transmutations of karma, with the winner being rewarded with moksha; namely emancipation from the endless cycle of death and rebirth.

Known as Moksha Patam, the game in its original form was intended to teach children about the Hindu philosophies of both Karma causality — centred around committing good or bad deeds — and Samskara, which are ritual life events.

The game sounded a lot more sinister back then. The snakes sent players tumbling into the clutches of power-hungry demigods, asuras, whereas the ladders, thankfully, allowed participants to clamber closer to God or one of the Hindu variants of Heaven known as Kailasa, Vaikuntha and Brahmaloka.

CHOICE FOR ME, NOT FOR THEE:

Fusionism and the Problem of Order (Kevin Vallier, February 5, 2025, Religion & Liberty)

free-market capitalism, in tandem with other free institutions, help build community. They do this by creating the material abundance required for communities to flourish. But free-markets do not promote community merely by creating wealth. They also allow for the formation of virtue, given that virtue can only arise under conditions of freedom.

Fusionists see the local and the national as separate but complementary social domains. The civic domain contains local institutions like churches and families, which provide the social capital required for a free-market order. The national economic domain creates prosperity and, rightly ordered, does not undermine valuable local customs.

The New Right disagrees. Market forces are a solvent of tradition. If we allow unconstrained markets, communal bonds and traditional ways of life will wither, and our culture will become crude and commercialized.

As the old Mencken definition has it: “Puritanism: The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.” MAGA is a function of the fear that someone, somewhere makes different choices than you do. And republican liberty requires that choices can only be banned via particapatory processes and then must apply universally. MAGA can’t achieve its goals by way of the former and thinks its members should be absolved from the latter.

FOR WANT OF A FISH…:

Missouri’s Great Escaped Snake Scare of 1953 (Thomas Gounley, April 21, 2016, Atlas Obscura)

In 1953, Springfield, Missouri, was a city of about 65,000 people and at least 11 escaped Indian cobras slithering loose on the streets.

Between August and October, at least 11 of the snakes were either killed or captured in Springfield, much to the alarm of residents, many of whom fought back with a common gardening tool.

While a local pet shop was always suspected to be the source of the snakes, its owner denied any involvement. It would be 35 years until the person who set the reptiles free came forward.

TOP OF THE WORLD:

 REVIEW: of Doc Watson: A Life in Music by Eddie Huffman (James Ruchala, 1/27/25, Open Letters Review)

Despite becoming blind by his first birthday, growing up in one of the poorest areas of the nation, and relying on government support until middle age, Doc Watson became one of the most influential guitar players of the twentieth century. Watson could “bridge the gap” between the traditional Appalachian tunes he learned from family and neighbors and the music popular with modern urban audiences. As one early manager explained: “While some [folk] singers yowled like a rusty hinge or a deer tangled in a barbed-wire fence, Doc hummed like a well-tuned engine or a purring cat.” His recordings as both a guitar player and a singer are some of the warmest and most accessible to come out of the revival of interest in traditional American folk music forms that started in the early 1960s. 

SOUL MEN:

In search of Denmark’s soul : Jutland, land of bad beer and cheap pork, of beautiful heaths and shifting sands, of millennia-old corpses preserved in peat bogs, of Viking myths, and of wind, lots and lots of wind, continues both to define and contradict contemporary Denmark. (Michael Booth, 7/08/24, Englesberg Ideas)

Jutland, or ‘Jylland’ in Danish, is the bit of the country which thrusts phallically from Northern Germany towards the Oslofjord. To its west is the North Sea; making it Northumbria’s nearest neighbour to the east (something Northumbrians had cause to regret when Danish Vikings sailed on Lindisfarne in 793 AD).

Jutland occupies a strange place in the Danish psyche. It is part soul-of-the-nation, part embarrassing relative. For the 2.2 million Jutlanders who call it home, it is, well, home. For the 3.7 million other Danes, it is myriad things, but not least a place most are glad not to call home.

In a sense, Jutland is where Denmark began. The so-called ‘birth certificate’ of the nation, the Jelling Stone, still stands in the south-eastern Jutland town after which it is named, and is a pilgrimage destination for every Danish schoolchild (handily, Legoland is 25 minutes away). The 10th-century stone’s red-painted runic inscription proclaims Harald Bluetooth to be king of all the Danes. Bluetooth (after whom the wireless technology is named) was the first monarch to unite the nation and the first christian king of Denmark.

Despite being ground zero for the Danish monarchy, Jutland was never as dominated by a feudal ruling elite as Zealand (Sjælland). Instead, the monarchy and aristocracy gravitated to the largest Danish island to the east where, first Roskilde, and then Copenhagen became the capitals. And, so, relatively free of meddling kings, Jutland’s farmers tended to own their own land, or leased it from a distant monarch.

BIG FIASCO:

The Outlaw Tradition of Noodling for Catfish (Cameron Maynard, Jan. 20th, 2025, Texas Highways)

Tall fish tales follow every angling method and species of fish, but they may be a bit weightier with noodling since the practice didn’t see statewide legalization until 2011. For most of its modern history, it’s been practiced in the shadows, hidden from the watchful eyes of the law. Noodlers fished primarily at night, wading through dark waters, quietly coming up for air like Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now. Many homeowners were happy to turn them in. More than a few noodlers were arrested, ticketed, or socially scorned for their troubles.

One such instance is legendary within the East Texas noodling community. I kept hearing the story of the “East Texas Toe-Biter” from the 1980s, when a man at Lake Tyler got into some legal trouble for supposedly throwing a 122-pound flathead out of the water because it bit him in the foot. The kicker, though, was that the fish was still alive and well, just lounging around the aquarium at the Texas Freshwater Fisheries Center in Athens. The second part of the story is not only false but also caused a bit of confusion when I called the Fisheries Center to ask about it. Turns out the world-record blue catfish, caught on a rod and reel, was actually the fish held in their aquarium for a time. All that said, the 122-pound flathead did exist, as did the legal troubles that followed the man who caught it.

Because of all this, many modern-day noodlers are former outlaws of the waterways who have broad-shouldered themselves into polite fishing society. You won’t find these outdoorspeople donning waders and fishing fedoras, then fiddling with custom-made flies between picturesque back casts. You certainly won’t catch them bedding down at places called The Moose Elk Lodge, unwinding with a bottle of Chablis. Noodlers are more likely to sleep in their boats, rally with Red Bulls and honey buns, then barrel into the water to scavenge under boat docks. One of the biggest of these former outlaws is Jimmy Millsap, a longtime Lake Tawakoni noodler who is, according to some, “the Godfather of Texas Noodling.”

“I had paved the game warden’s driveway one day and got caught by him the next,” Millsap recalls. “I told him when he caught us, ‘I guess you’re tryin’ to get your driveway money back.’”

PAYING FOR THE COSTS YOU IMPOSE:

What, Exactly, Are Negative Externalities? (Donald J. Boudreaux, 2/5/25, AIER)

By far, the market imperfection believed, at least by economists, to be most common is that of externalities. An externality, as defined by the Nobel-laureate economist George Stigler, “is an effect, whether beneficial or harmful, upon a person who was not a party to the decision.” Consult almost any economics textbook and you discover a similar definition of externality. Because harmful effects of this sort (“negative externalities”) generally get more attention than do beneficial effects (“positive externalities”), the discussion in this Explainer will be confined to negative externalities, although most of the points I make apply also to positive externalities.

A classic example of a negative externality is a railroad that builds a line next to farmland and, when it runs its trains, throws sparks onto the farmland, occasionally burning the farmer’s crops. The farmer suffers damage that he did not bargain for. If the railroad doesn’t pay for this damage, it does not cover all of its operating costs, which include doing damage to crops. Because incurring costs restrains the actions that generate the costs, not having to pay all of its costs leads the railroad to run too many trains. And when the railroad runs too many trains, the farmer winds up supplying too few crops.

To induce the railroad to produce the optimal amount of railroad services, it must somehow be obliged to pay not just for some of its costs of doing business—to pay not just wages to compensate its workers, and prices to compensate its suppliers of fuel—but to pay for all of its costs, including whatever damage it causes to farmers and other parties who suffer incidental losses as a result of the railroad’s operation.

A.C. Pigou and Ronald Coase


The government can “correct” this market imperfection by imposing on the railroad a tax equal to the value of the crops damaged by its trains. This tax—called by economists a “Pigouvian tax” (after the British economist A.C. Pigou)—“internalizes” on the railroad the cost that it once imposed on the farmer. A cost that was previously external to the railroad’s decision-making processes is now internal to it given that the railroad must pay the tax. With this cost “internalized” on the railroad, it will now produce the economically optimal amount of railroad services, and allow the farmer to supply the optimal amount of crops.

THE CULTURE WARS ARE A ROUT:

The Gospel According to ‘The Office’: What Dunder Mifflin Teaches Us About Grace, Forgiveness and Cringe-Worthy Community (Taylor Berry, Jan. 27th, 2025, Relevant)


At its core, The Office is a masterclass in relationships—and not the glossy, Hallmark-movie kind. It’s the unfiltered, frequently cringe-inducing reality of human interaction. Grace and forgiveness weave their way through the fabric of this show, often hidden beneath layers of awkward pauses, office pranks and absurd team-building exercises led by Prison Mike.

Think about it: How many times does Michael completely mess up—offending, embarrassing or downright traumatizing his employees—and yet, they stick around? Whether it’s Pam forgiving Michael for outing her pregnancy at a company meeting or Jim patiently enduring Dwight’s endless shenanigans, The Office is a celebration of second chances. It’s about extending forgiveness not because it’s deserved, but because community only works when grace abounds.

Biblically speaking, isn’t that the whole deal? “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us,” says Romans 5:8, a verse Michael probably would have butchered during a motivational speech.

The characters on The Office mess up in spectacular fashion, yet time and time again, they’re welcomed back into the fold—reminding us of the gospel’s radical, all-encompassing grace.

LESS SOUND, PLEASE:

Do You Write, Mr. Faulkner? ( Ron Rash, Feb 7, 2025, Sporting Classics Daily)

This anecdote tells us much about Faulkner, a private man who disdained the attention of intellectuals and literary critics, preferring instead the company of simple, unassuming men who, as he once put it, were not “even very literate, let alone literary.” He was also a man who, as an accomplished hunter and outdoorsman, was much more comfortable in the silence and isolation of the wilderness than in the sound and fury of a city.

The “big woods,” as he called them, offered Faulkner an escape from the pressures of his art, a turbid personal life and, at least late in his life, fame. But the hunt and the wilderness were more than just an escape for Faulkner; they were also an inspiration for some of his greatest literary works.

“He taught the boy the woods, to hunt, when to shoot and not to shoot, when to kill and when not to kill, and better, what to do with it afterward.” —Go Down, Moses, 1942

William Faulkner was probably destined to be a hunter and outdoorsman, for patience, self-discipline and an ability to work in solitude — the traits of both a writer and an outdoorsman, marked his character and temperament. These traits were developed amidst a family and society that made his interest in hunting and outdoors almost inevitable.

THE BEAUTY MYTH:

Can’t Live With It, Can’t Live Without it – The Grateful Dead (Graeme Tait Can’t, 2/05/25, Americana uk)

“American Beauty”, the band’s fifth studio album, was released in November 1970, barely four months after the release of their previous offering “Workingman’s Dead”, and the two albums are seen very much as companions, some would say like brother and sister. The comparison is understandable, as prior to these recordings the band’s legacy had been forged on the stage rather than in the studio, mainly because they used their songs as starting points for improvisation that suited their psychedelic sound, of which they were the original true explorers, rather than ideals simply to be duplicated. However, the fading embers of the 60’s marked the beginning of the end of the ‘Hippie Dream‘, requiring the band to take stock and, in the studio at least, find a new approach. Crosby, Stills, & Nash had long been friends with the band, especially Garcia, who was particularly impressed with how the trio used their vocal harmonies, and was looking to embrace a similar approach, while the band’s lyricist Robert Hunter began incorporating more American folklore into the narratives including trains, guns, gambling and alcohol, using the country’s geography and religious symbolism to help create a visual soundscape full of American myth. The musical arrangement was also changed, now drawing heavily on the Bakersfield sound, a sub-genre of country music developed in the mid-to-late 1950’s in California defined by its use of electric instruments, and strong backbeat, being highly influenced by rock’n’roll, and born out of a reaction to the slickly produced sound emanating from Nashville.

“Workingman’s Dead” proved to be a resounding success, but in many ways it was a just template for what the band would create just four months later, having moved the recording process to Wally Heider Studios in San Francisco and choosing to co-produce the album with staff engineer Stephan Barncard, rather than previous producer Bob Matthews. They had also just discovered that manager, Lenny Hart (father of the drummer Micky Hart) had renewed their contract with Warner Brothers Records without their knowledge, before skipping town with a sizeable amount of the band’s wealth.

Like it’s predecessor, “American Beauty” was innovative for its fusion of bluegrass, rock’n’roll, folk and of course country music, though where “Workingman’s Dead” mixed the grittier Bakersfield sound with the band’s psychedelic roots, the new release was mostly acoustic in nature, with Garcia replacing his electric guitar for a pedal steel, while there was a greater focus on major-key melodies and folk harmonies. Drummer Bill Kreutzmann later explained, “The singers in our band really learned a lot about harmonising from Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, who had just released their seminal album “Deja Vu”, (recording their vocals around a 360 degree mic, before adding identical overdubs at 3/4 of the level). It was also on this album that Garcia first collaborated with legendary mandolinist David Grisman whose playing is heard to great effect on the tracks ‘Friend Of The Devil’ and ‘Ripple’.

Just as significantly was the increased writing input from the rest of the band which was in stark contrast to previous albums where almost all the songs had been composed by the songwriting partnership of Garcia and Hunter. This was immediately apparent from the opening number, the sublimely beautiful ‘Box Of Rain’, co-written by Hunter and bassist Phil Lesh, it was the first Grateful Dead song to feature Lesh on lead vocals. Harmonies were provided by Bob Weir as well as Garcia who also played piano, while David Nelson (of New Riders Of The Purple Sage) guested on lead guitar. As recently as last year ‘Rolling Stone Magazine’ ranked this song in the ‘Top 500 Songs Of All Time’. Second track ‘Friend Of The Devil’, a song written by Garcia and Hunter along with John Dawson, (also from New Riders Of The Purple Sage) opens with Garcia playing a delightful descending G major scale in the bass register, while Hunter’s lyrics skilfully succeed in connecting the fatalism of the physical frontier with the wonder of the psychedelic one. Third track ‘Sugar Magnolia’, with writing credits shared between Hunter and Weir, who also supplied the lead vocals, has long become one of the band’s best known songs and remained an integral part of their live set throughout the following decades while fourth number ‘Operator’, was written and sung by co-founder and original frontman for the band Ron McKennan (aka Pigpen). In truth, this was his only real contribution to the album as by this time his role within the band had become vastly diminished due to his deteriorating health. The first side of the original vinyl album comes to a close with ‘Candyman’, another classic Garcia/Hunter track with its beguiling structural simplicity and sweetest of melodies encouraging the listener to just drift away on a warm summer’s breeze.