February 13, 2006

Audible Althouse #36.

At last! A new podcast. (You don't need an iPod and you don't need to subscribe -- though you should! You can stream it here.)

This is a podcast with a theme: echoes! Key post revisited: "My own private how-to-throw-out-the-trash echo chamber -- re-echoing!" and "The echo-y comfort zone of rage."

10 comments:

Steve Donohue said...

Maybe it's just my computer, but this version of "Audible Althouse" seems to have been reenacted by Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Anyone else having this problem?

Ann Althouse said...

This came up before and I can't remember what the solution was. It's something about your browser I think.

Ann Althouse said...

It's discussed here.

Steve Donohue said...

OK, I got it fixed.

Actually, though, the podcast was also rather enjoyable at double speed. It sorta underlines your point about not taking yourself too seriously.

Meade said...

I've got a few bucks. How much to go to a garage sale with me?

and sing.

Big Dick Cheney said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Goesh said...

- I would give a crisp $50.00 to know what that last person said - was he wagging the shotgun or the weenie???

Ann Althouse said...

Goesh: Don't encourage him.

Meade said...

How 'bout a trade, Ann? A garage sale and song for me; Goesh and I put a hit on this Big Dick character for you.

C. Schweitzer said...

Your commentary on images and photographs interests me. It got me thinking about not only do we not have photographs of some of the most important personages of history, most people in history have never had any likeness taken of them at all. After all, only the wealthy, I imagine would have been able to afford to have their portraits taken.

We take it for granted that our images last. Most of us have pictures of our grandparents and great grandparents at least. And due to the technology of digital video and computer storage of photos and videos, this next generation will certainly be the most photographed in history.

(My niece Emily's photos can't be stored on my 60 mb iPod because they'd fill it up).

In a sense, it makes me sad to think about the billions of people that have lived and died without any marker or physical sign of their existence.

Of course, this is one of the key issues in John Keats's "Ode on a Grecian Urn": not only is the young man depicted on the urn dead, so are all the people that knew him and the whole culture that produced the urn. And all that remains is the urn itself--a sad reminder that only art is immortal.