Rebecca Reads » history

Moments: The Pulitzer Prize-Winning Photographs by Hal Buell

Rebecca Reid — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 13:00:38 +0000

I let myself browse the library a few weeks ago, and I ended up coming home with a huge coffee table book of photography, Moments: The Pulitzer Prize-Winning Photographs by Hal Buell. I thought I’d browse through the award-winning photographs and then return it.

To my delight, the short summaries on the Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs were fascinating as well as the photographs. In just a few days, I found myself engrossed in the stories of the photographs. I had to read it!

Because the Pulitzer Prize was awarded for general photography (1942-1967), spot news photography (1968-1999), feature photography (1968-current), and breaking news photography (2000-current), the book had a huge variety of types of photographs. What tied all the stories and photographs together was the randomness of the moments. And that is why I enjoyed Moments. It was a spattering of historical moments throughout the last seventy years.

Some moments were not historically significant. For example, the winning photograph of 1954 by Mrs. Walter M. Schau, an amateur, was of a rescue from the cab of a truck that was dangling over a bridge, and the 1958 photograph was of a policeman bending over to talk to a young boy during a parade. Other photographs are memorable – such as the 1945 winner by Joe Rosenthal of the flag raising at Iwo Jima and the chilling photographs of the Oklahoma City bombing (1996 spot news photography winner) . The book as a whole showed the changing focus of the world, as the 1960s and 1970s winners tended toward chilling Vietnam photographs and the 1990s and more recent photographs tended toward those suffering in Africa. Some years featured political photographs (such as the Monica Lewinsky scandal) and others featured domestic issues, from the impact of school bussing (1976 feature winner) to children of drug abusers (1998 feature winner).

Moments, therefore, is at both times delightful and frightening to browse through. While it captures an amazing number of “moments” through history, some are horrendously shocking. For that reason, I’m glad it’s not a coffee table book I’ll keep around my home. At the same time, I found both the stories and the photographs fascinating.

Wikipedia lists the winning photographs/photographers, and the Pulitzer Prize site provides links to lists all recent winners; browse the lists at the general photography winners, feature photography winners, spot news photography winners, and breaking news photography winners. This years’ winners will be announced on April 20.

Partial or full portfolios of photography are on the website post 1995; however, if you are sincerely interested in the photographs and the stories behind them, you may want to find Moments. It’s quite worth a perusal. The copy of Moments I read only provided the winners through 1999; a new edition has been released with the subsequent decade.

Do you have a favorite Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph? What types of “moments” do you like to remember in photography?

Other Reviews:

If you have reviewed Moments on your site, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

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Political Reading

Rebecca Reid — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 22:00:08 +0000

As I mentioned recently, I minored in “International Studies” in college. I took courses in political history, U.S. international relations, anthropology, and sociology. I also took one economics class, but I don’t recall a thing about it. My minor was too broad, because I don’t remember very much, and it’s only been five years. I also didn’t read well.

When people started mentioning magazines they read for Weekly Geeks, I realized that I used to read The New York Times or The Wall Street Journal, Foreign Affairs, and other political newspapers and magazines on a regular basis. Since graduation, I haven’t read them. But I greatly enjoyed political subjects: Why don’t I make time to read those things?

For me, this goes back to my ability to read. I’ve lost my attention span and I’m caught up in the quickness of Internet articles: why read the news when I can skim the headlines? It takes a large attention span to read Foreign Affairs, and I was ashamed that it was hard to read through an article by Secretary of State Condelezza Rice at first glance. I had to force myself to concentrate. I certainly shouldn’t find it so challenging: I studied these kinds of things in school!

Something Condelezza Rice wrote stuck with me:

We know that today’s headlines are rarely the same as history’s judgments.

I think my problems with reading newspapers stem from the fact that I’m not interested in “today’s headlines.” I’m much more interested in the big picture, the entire history of these things. My courses were mostly looking at the history of various political issues, not the modern-day situations, although those were an aspect of the courses I took.

I feel the need to read and study the events in the last 5-10 years of politics so I can understand where the world stands now. I feel very clumsy. And yet, I still don’t really look forward to “today’s headlines.” History’s judgments are so much more interesting.

Which do you find most interesting: today’s headlines or history’s judgments?

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Challenges, A Personal Challenge, and a Giveaway!

Rebecca Reid — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 08:37:25 +0000

Weekly Geeks this week is about Challenges.

I have been hesitant to sign up for challenges because I’m a perfectionist. While I know there are no “challenge police” coming to check that I’ve finished my reading, I can’t bring myself to say “I’ll read these books” if I don’t think I’m going to have time. (And I barely do these days.)

That said, I have signed up for a few challenges in the past two months that I’ve been blogging, I’ve started my own personal challenge (which I’d love for you to join if you want!), and I’m giving away a book in the coming weeks.

The Pulitzer Project

The Pulitzer Project is an ongoing challenge to read the fictional winners of the Pulitzer Prize. For myself, I’m also reading some of the nonfiction, biography, and history winners. I’ve read four Pulitzer Prize winning books thus far since I started blogging in May (three count toward The Pulitzer Project).

Read the Nobels

Read the Nobels is an ongoing challenge to read works or speeches by winners of the Nobel Laureates in Literature or information or biographies about the Laureates. I’ve read two works since I began blogging. I really like the fact that we can read information about the Laureates for this challenge as well as reading their work. I’m looking forward to “getting to know them.”

Nonfiction Five Challenge

The Nonfiction Five Challenge is a May-September 2008 challenge to read five works of nonfiction. I’ve read three books for the challenge so far, but you can see from my Genre list in the right sidebar that I love nonfiction. Visit here to see all the nonfiction I’ve reviewed since I’ve begun blogging. I mostly joined the Nonfiction Five Challenge because I loved the idea of sharing with others what I’ve read and I want to read their reviews too!

Graphic Novels Challenge

The Graphic Novels Challenge is one that I never would have considered until I read a review by Dewey that convinced me this was something I had to try. It runs for the whole year: read six graphic novels. Because I started late in the year, I only have to read three. I’ve already read two graphic novels and two more are on reserve at the library right now, waiting for me to pick them up. So far, I’m really enjoying this new medium for books! I think I’m going to read all six after all (although I still have never been invited to actually join the Graphic Novels Challenge blog, hint hint, despite asking to be invited…).

HTR&W Challenge (A Personal Challenge) and a Giveaway

I’ve also given myself a personal challenge for read all the works (short stories, poems, plays, and books) on the How to Read and Why list. I talk about the HTR&W Challenge here. I’d love to invite anyone else to join me in reading these works (it is a good list!). There wouldn’t be any “Challenge Police” to come after you; I’d just want to compare notes with you and follow your thoughts on your blog (if you have one). I think it’s a great list and a nice idea, but I know lots of people already have dozens of challenges and these books aren’t exactly recent best-sellers.

Now, I’m a new blogger, so I don’t know how to tell people about this personal challenge I’ve created. I also don’t know how many people are interested in reading the works featured in this book.

Nevertheless, I’ll send a copy of HTR&W to a randomly selected person interested in joining me in the HTR&W Challenge. Leave a comment on the HTR&W post or the reading list telling me that you are interested. I’ll extend the date until 5 July.

I’m excited to have found the book blogger community, and I look forward to our continuing book dialogues!

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What is Reading? and Audiobook Review of The Book Thief

Rebecca Reid — Fri, 30 May 2008 04:06:03 +0000

Suggested by: Thisisnotabookclub

What is reading, anyway? Novels, comics, graphic novels, manga, e-books, audiobooks — which of these is reading these days? Are they all reading? Only some of them? What are your personal qualifications for something to be “reading” — why? If something isn’t reading, why not? Does it matter? Does it impact your desire to sample a source if you find out a premise you liked the sound of is in a format you don’t consider to be reading? Share your personal definition of reading, and how you came to have that stance.

When I was 12 and 13, I read the comics page of the Sunday newspaper. As I got older, I gradually began to search for more in the paper each week: the “magazine”, the political cartoons, the main page, the headlines of the other sections. I became newspaper literate.

I believe that reading is anything that encourages literacy and understanding. Comics—even a wordless political cartoon—encourage literacy and cultural understanding. I’ve never read a “graphic novel” but I imagine it is similar in its grasp. Although an individual may not physically hold a book (with covers and pages) between their hands, they may still be reading. I enjoy all varieties of reading: online/digital books via Project Gutenberg or Daily Reader, hard cover books, soft cover books, newspapers, magazines, and, yes, audiobooks.

Personally, I often choose the audio format because then I can experience my books while I’m cooking, ironing, driving, or doing any number of my daily tasks. I’ve listened to many audiobooks, although I usually listen to nonfiction. I choose nonfiction in audio because it’s often easier to stop and come back to, and often the reader’s voice is easier to ignore and doesn’t seem as integral to the words. I have had bad experiences with audiobooks: when the voice is horrid, I try to ignore it and listen to the words. The words are why I’m listening in the first place: I am listening to what the author has written. I should be able to ignore a voice just as I’d ignore the typeface of a physical book.

I consider listening to a book to be “reading” it, although I concede it is a different experience. I have just finished a great audiobook, so I’ll use it as an example.

Audiobook Review of The Book Thief
My library had a dozen reserves on Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief. I didn’t feel like waiting yet longer to read it, so I bought the audiobook from audible.com. (I can’t explain why in this case I got the audio instead of the physical book, but I did.) I hadn’t read many reviews of this book, so I didn’t know what to expect, as I explained in my review of it.

From the first moment of listening to this book, which was read by Allan Corduner, I knew it was going to be a good experience. The reader’s voice was pleasant and his intonation, rhythm, and speed were incredibly appropriate. I felt like I was listening to a poet presenting his work.

I was so intrigued by how it was read, I found the book and looked at it so see how it was laid out. It was published with bullets, titles, and facts; the reader had read it just like it was written.

If the reader hadn’t read it so well, I may have been turned off the overdramatic prose in Zusak’s novel. I think I may have loved listening to it more than I’d have loved reading it, but I will never know; if I read it now, I’d hear the reader’s voice. My experience with this book has been changed forever. As it was, I loved it.

Have you experienced audiobooks, and was your experience good or bad? Obviously, I’ve made it clear that I feel listening to a text is a form of reading it. Do you agree with me? If not, please explain why; I want to know why my reading of The Book Thief wasn’t. To me, it was more than reading it: it was experiencing it.

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The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Rebecca Reid — Fri, 30 May 2008 03:45:48 +0000

There are hundreds of book blogs reviewing The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. I didn’t really read any of them before I began this book. What I did read was my cousin’s suggestion that I read it, along with some comments she had. She wrote:

It addresses orphans and hunger and family separation and Jewishness during World War II Germany. But it doesn’t bludgeon you with horror upon horror, then wallow in the pain. This is not one of those books that introduces you to characters only so you can more fully appreciate how the events of the story are the worst possible outcome for that person. It shows the beauty and triumph amidst gray life and thereby reveals the preciousness of love and relationships. Despite the subject matter, each time you put down the book you’ll feel a little warm glow in your heart.

I think she explained it wonderfully: she didn’t reveal a number of details about the plot, but she perfectly explained the emotions. I felt those same emotions as I read it. Because I didn’t know too much about The Book Thief before I read it (and most other reviews I’ve read after-the-fact reveal far too much), I was surprised and delighted by this book when I did pick it up.

After I started it, I found some site that referred to it as Young Adult literature. And then I found that is has won a number of awards as Young Adult literature and has been on the New York Times Children’s bestsellers list. I was very startled.

Besides the crude language (and there is a lot of it), I felt the writing style and plot was not for children. It was first published in Australia as an adult novel and was only published as a children’s novel when it came to the United States. I certainly enjoyed reading it, and I wouldn’t mind one of my children reading it, just as I wouldn’t mind my children reading other books for adults. But why would this be listed and awarded primarily as a children’s book? If my children were young, I’d want to read it at the same time and discuss various aspects with them (especially why such language is not necessary in our daily speech; for me, the foul language was excessive).

Maybe you can help me understand: Why is The Book Thief considered a book for children or young adults? If you are a young adult, what did you think?

As a conversation starter, here’s what Markus Zusak says about it:

The Book Thief was released in Australia for an adult audience, but in the U.S. it’s been promoted as a young adult book. What type of reader were you thinking of when you were writing?

I thought no one would read this; I thought it would be my least read book by a mile. …[edited because of spoilers]… It’s not exactly a book you recommend to your friends, especially if they’ve had a bad day. I look back and realize that I forgot the audience as I was writing. What I wanted to do, what I’ve always wanted to do was write someone’s favorite book. I’m aiming for that top shelf when I write, and it doesn’t matter if it’s in the kid’s section or the biography section or whatever. It’s more ambitious than writing a young adult book or an adult book. People know when your heart is in a book, and I think people can tell that my heart is in this book more so than any of my other books.

This is from an interview (containing spoilers) with Markus Zusak for the Mother Daughter Book Club.

Other reviews:

The Hidden Side of a Leaf
books i done read
Trish’s Reading Nook
Maw Books Blog
It’s All About Books
Stephanie’s Confessions of a Book-a-holic

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March by Geraldine Brooks

Rebecca Reid — Thu, 01 May 2008 22:00:06 +0000

Ignored Characters

As I mentioned, to my surprise, I loved rereading Little Women. I think I liked it more now than when I first read it as a teenager, simply because the goody-goody characters were refreshing to me after the novels and the nonfiction books I’ve been reading. I related to the girls.

Author Geraldine Brooks read Little Women the first time when she was ten. When her mother recommended it, she said to take it with a grain of salt: “Nobody in real life is such a goody-goody as that Marmee” (Afterword, page 354). With that concept was born Brooks’ Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, March.

While March focuses a little bit on Marmee, the majority of this book is about Mr. March (called March), the father of the girls, who, in part one of Alcott’s novel, is away fighting in the Civil War. In this novel, we read his letters to Marmee—and then we read the truth of what is happening to him in the South. March writes “I promised her that I would write something every day…I never promised I would write the truth” (page 4).

In a fascinating contrast to the girls’ failures in Little Women, March’s failings are huge to him; he cannot solve them in a chapter or even by the end of the book. As Little Women delves into the little problems of teenage girls, March delves into the larger problems of an adult before and during the civil war: slavery, death, violence and war, betrayal, marital and extramarital relationships, and confusion about one’s role in the world and in a family. (Disappointingly, there is a far amount of sexuality in this book, so keep that in mind.) To me, it is an intriguing contrast to the goody-goody world of Little Women.

Geraldine Brooks has thoroughly researched both the civil war and the life of Louisa May Alcott’s father, Bronson Alcott, for many of the philosophies and characteristics of Mr. March. Since Alcott herself based Little Women on her own experience, basing Mr. March on Alcott’s father seemed very appropriate. I love a well-researched novel, especially historical fiction, and this certainly was well-researched.

I also loved the concept of fleshing out a character that otherwise wasn’t noticed. I know I never gave a thought to Mr. March when I first read Little Women. Only on rereading Little Women now, knowing that I’d read March next, did I realize how little attention is given to him.

What behind-the-scenes fictional character would you like to know more about?

Note: I’d recommend reading Little Women (at least part one) before approaching March. They complement each other nicely.

If you’ve reviewed March, leave a link to your post in the comments and I’ll add it here.

Other reviews:

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Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Rebecca Reid — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 22:00:18 +0000

It’s been a long time since I’ve read a young adult novel (other than Harry Potter, which doesn’t count), so when I picked up Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women this week, I was at first taken aback by the rosy, generic moral lessons within it. As I began, I wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy it, since it’s a reread for me. Besides, I had this idea that I’d outgrown it. I was wrong.

At first the moral lessons were a bit silly to me. For example, when the girls want a holiday week, without any chores, their mother agrees and lets them, knowing they will learn their lesson. Sure enough, by the end of the week, they are ready for chores again! If only lessons are really learned that way.

By the middle, though, I was finding myself relating to the teen angst as the girls began courting and dealing with each other and their life dreams. They plan their “castles in the air” for what they want to be doing in ten years, when they are between twenty-two and twenty-seven. (That’s where I am right now. It does not seem that old.)

As I was reading Little Women, I really found myself enjoying the story, as childish and “rosy” as it is. Then, during a scene when a character marries, I had a moment of bizarre realization: I’m not one of them. I’m already married. I have a baby. How am I relating to these girls?

I think what makes Little Women a classic novel is the universal themes. The oldest, Meg, wants to be a lady and be elegant and beautiful, even in the midst of her family’s poverty; Jo struggles to control her anger; Beth struggles with shyness; and Amy is completely self-absorbed. Surely these are themes we all deal with throughout our lives! I recommend this book to any teenage girl–and to the rest of us as well!

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Kissinger by Walter Isaacson

Rebecca Reid — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 22:00:55 +0000

Real Politics

Recently, I’ve been watching The West Wing, which aired on NBC from 1999 to 2006. We’re currently watching season 5 of 7. This television show follows the eight White House years of Democratic President Jed Bartlet and his staff. Of course, being a television drama, President Bartlet has an incredibly interesting presidency (the details of which I won’t divulge in case you are intrigued and care to watch the show).

The most intriguing part of this show is watching and learning about political processes. I don’t know how accurate the portrayals are of the West Wing, White House, and Congressional debates, working situations, and characters. But with each episode, I wonder what the real political situation is for the subject.

Because I have been so absorbed by this fictional political situation, I decided to read about the real thing. I really enjoyed reading Walter Isaacson’s biography of Einstein a few months ago, and I was eager to read another of Issacson’s biographies—this time a biography of Henry A. Kissinger, national security adviser to Nixon and later Secretary of State to Nixon and Ford.

I’ll begin my review by saying that I don’t recommend this book, although I am glad I read it. (Does that make sense?)

It’s not that Isaacson did a poor job. In fact, I think his analysis and portrayal of Kissinger is incredibly well researched and thorough. He does a great job of avoiding his own commentary and opinion. The problem is that Henry A. Kissinger was a man without morals. He was not a likeable man for me.

While Einstein was a delightful, playful genius-celebrity, Henry Kissinger was a two-faced, tricky genius-celebrity. Yes, I believe Kissinger was a genius: he was a genius of negotiation, a genius of tricking people, and an expert in being two-faced. (For example, he would mock the Israelis to the Syrian leaders and mock the Syrian leaders to the Israelis.)

Israeli leader Yitzhak Rabin said: “He didn’t lie. He would have lost credibility. He didn’t tell the whole truth” (page 554). He was tricky, and that was the essential element behind his success. For example, Isaacson summarizes:

In the Vietnam negotiations, [Kissinger] devised murky wording regarding the DMZ and South Vietnamese sovereignty so that both sides could claim what they wanted; in the SALT talks, he left vague the limits on silo size changes and later dropped the word ballistic from limits on air missiles so that the Americans and Soviets ended up interpreting the meaning differently. Likewise, on the Middle East, Kissinger tried to fudge many of the theological disputes that stood in the way of practical disengagement accords. (page 556)

Kissinger, a Jewish refuge to the U.S. from Nazi Germany at age 15, embraced the European notion of realpolitik, which is defined as “politics based on practical and material factors rather than on theoretical or ethical objectives” (m-w.com). In other words, he did whatever he felt was necessary, even if morals had to be abandoned. That is why I found myself disliking him: “Kissinger never had an instinctive feel for American values and mores” (page 764).

In reading this book, I got what I wanted: a realistic look into the West Wing and the political environment around the White House. And I don’t like it. President Nixon was a sneaky, lying man. And Henry Kissinger believed in doing whatever was necessary to get the end result he wanted.

I renewed this book twice, which means it was checked out for three check-out periods. At four weeks for each check out, I had this book on my “What I am Reading” shelf for three months. I’m not surprised: it was more than 750 pages and I could only handle so much of it every day.

As I became more appalled with each new political situation, I kept wondering why I was still reading it. I think the reason I kept reading was because I was learning so much about the political environment from 1968 to the late 1970s, particularly in terms of international relations. The analysis of power was fascinating to me, as appalling as it was.

“Kissinger was such a liar,” I told my husband, more than once.

“Rebecca,” he said once, with a tone that suggested I should have known that. “Of course he was. He was a politician.” (Although my husband denies saying these words, this is the impression I got from him.)

“Well, I want to read about a politician that has morals. I want a Jed Bartlet.”

Yes, I know Jed Bartlet doesn’t really exist. He gets emotional in every episode in which an American soldier dies. Can a President let himself get that involved? I don’t know, but I don’t like how Ford and Kissinger didn’t have any concerns when “only” 18 soldiers went down in a successful mission (page 654).

I intend to read about other political situations and time periods in order to find the reality of U.S. political and international relations, as depressing as it may be.

I think I’ve been watching fictional politics for too long.

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Einstein by Walter Isaacson

Rebecca Reid — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 22:00:50 +0000

The Mind of a Genius

Even at his death, Albert Einstein was regarded as someone with an incredible brain: the pathologist performing the autopsy decided, without asking permission, to embalm Einstein’s brain. For years, he kept the brain and drove around the United States touring with it. A few studies were done on the brain to try to determine what made Einstein a genius, but little has been proven scientifically. Eventually, in the late 1990s, Einstein’s brain was returned to the Einstein family (see Epilogue, pages 544-551).

In reading Einstein: His Life and Universe by Walter Isaacson, I’ve likewise been intrigued by Einstein’s genius. Why is it we equate “Einstein” with “genius”? What made him so smart? It seems clear to me that, as Isaacson opines in his conclusion, Einstein’s genius was in his mind and not necessarily his brain.

Albert Einstein was a very bright student. He excelled in elementary school classes and consistently got top grades as he grew up. However, he had contempt for authority, which led to leaving high school early—it is uncertain whether he left of his own accord or was encouraged to leave. Regardless, he was a high school dropout (page 23). He tutored himself to be able to enter the academy (page 24). Then, once he entered the Zurich Polytechnic, he again acted impudently. For example, he felt the mathematics professor was disappointing. He didn’t hide his disdain and he often missed classes (page 34). Einstein was fourth in his graduating class of five (page 48), partially due to his poor attendance in his classes.

Ironically, because of his contempt for authority, he may have been better prepared for his “thought experiments.” Because he thought things through on his own so much (outside of a teacher’s structured lectures), he was able to see the world in a different way than had been accepted by the scientific community. Also, because his poor performance and poor recommendations hindered his job prospects, he was working in a patent office and brainstorming theoretical physics during his free time; had he been working as a professor, he may have been forced to tame his ideas to fit the temper of the university at which he was working. Einstein’s young impudence provided him with a setting in which to question the world.

His former mathematics professor later said to him, “You’re a very clever boy. … But you have one great fault: you’ll never let yourself be told anything” (page 34). While youthful insolence certainly is not enviable, the ability to freshly question others and the world certainly aided Einstein to greatness.

When the already-famous Einstein visited the United States in 1921, Thomas Edison was an old man. Edison was a practical man, and he believed colleges were too theoretical. He had produced a 150-question test as a job application, which contained questions such as How is leather tanned? and What country consumes the most tea? (p 299).

When Einstein arrived in New York, a reporter presented him with a question from Edison’s test: What is the speed of sound? Einstein, of course, could easily understand the speed of sound. His response to the reporter, however, was that he did not “carry such information in my mind since it is readily available in books.” Einstein recognized that genius was not “the learning of many facts but the training of the mind to think” (page 299). He didn’t spend his time memorizing things he could look up: he spent his time thinking. His willingness to think led him to his observations of the world that opened up new branches in science.

Why did this make him famous? When Einstein’s son Eduard was young, he asked his father just that.

“When a blind beetle crawls over the surface of a curved branch, it doesn’t notice that the track it has covered is indeed curved,” Einstein replied. “I was lucky enough to notice what the beetle didn’t notice” (page 196).

Einstein’s response simplifies the concept that gravity curves the fabric of our world, a concept for which he was famous. However, it is also a good explanation of what made him a genius: he was able to comprehend concepts that had never been contemplated before. He was able to ponder concepts that challenge our understanding of the very nature of the universe, laws of nature that had been accepted widely since Newton.

I imagine that studying his brain further will not have revealed much difference from other human brains. In reading about his life and learning about the science he put voice to (much of which I still don’t quite understand), I believe that his physical brain was probably nothing special. What made Albert Einstein a genius was his unwillingness to simply accept what was given him (his resistance), his willingness to think rather than simply memorize, and his ability to comprehend new concepts. Indeed, an open mind created his greatness.

It’s not often that observations by one person change our understanding of the world, as Einstein’s observations changed physics. However, I believe that as others emulate Einstein’s open mind, they too may find their genius.

Surely, there is, to some extent, genius within each of us as well.

(Previously published on a personal page on January 15, 2008 in a slightly different form.)

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