Comment on a report in New Scientist, October 31-November 6, 2020, pp. 10-13.
The latest data show that symptoms of covid-19 persist for up to four months in some people. Probably longer, as the study stopped at that point. The symptoms range from fatigue through “brain-fog” and memory loss through problems breathing. Blood clots threaten to provoke strokes. Headaches are common. Damage to heart, lungs, and other organs has been observed. Hospitalised people appear most likely to suffer these symptoms. The data are incomplete, but it’s likely that around 5% of people who recover from covid-19 will experience more or less serious symptoms two months or more after the onset of the infection.
I think that somewhere between one and five percent will suffer from “long covid”, defined as debilitating symptoms for two months or longer. That’s a serious consequence, since these people will need some continuing care, and/or accommodation at work. The more severe cases will be unable to work at all. The economic losses will be high, combining lost productivity and cost of care. Or, to put it another way: a significant proportion of human and other resources will be diverted from the usual economic activities.
Unanswered questions: Who is most likely to be affected, and why? What kinds of treatment will mitigate long covid? How long will it actually last?
Mostly book reviews, plus whatever else I feel like posting. I welcome comments and conversation. Comments are moderated, so it may take a day or two for your comment to appear. Or send a mail to wolfmac@sympatico.ca If you quote, please also link to this blog. If you like this blog, please follow it. Highest review rating is four stars ****
10 November 2020
Long Covid
07 November 2020
Model Railroad Building tips
Jeff Wilson. Basic Structure Modeling (2005) A well-done overview of the craft, with good co-ordination of text and photos. In the Olden Days, the photos would have been line-drawings. Each chapter deals with one main aspect (plastic kits, roofs, painting, etc). Wilson writes clearly, adding significant detail and tips in the right places, and cross-references to other chapters when the current topic skims over some important content.
Like any such book, best suited to the reader who has tried the craft and realises they need to know more. Wilson could have emphasised a couple of points, such as the need for painting both sides of wooden (and card) parts. I found it a welcome reminder and organiser of what I already knew, which added up to inspiration for building a couple more small cabins. Just need to decide on the colour first.... ***
Photography for Modellers
Mark Hembree, ed. A Treasury of Model Railroad Photos (1991) An odd duck of a book. Four skilled photographers of model railroads (Dave Frary, Malcolm Furlow, John Olson, Paul Scoles) write about how they do it. Beautifully printed, deftly organised text, diagrams, and photos, a pleasure to look at, and to read if you want some insight and instruction. But the puzzle is, Who is the intended audience? Photographers who want to specialise in scale models? Scale modellers who want to take better photos?
The four photographers write well. They use 35 and large-format film cameras, hence the emphasis on lighting, exposure, and film choice. Anyone who took photography even semi-seriously in the pre-digital age will feel a few twinges of nostalgia reading about main and fill lights, daylight filters, four-minute exposures and the problems of reciprocity. The advice about lighting, focus, and depth of field is still relevant, and the photos repay study for angle, composition, and so on. The photographers were better known as modellers. That’s why this book is a puzzle: model railroaders looking at layout photos don’t think of them as photographs, but as documents, and inspiration.
A good book. ***
Pain in Poems: Spike Milligan's Open Heart Surgey
Spike Milligan. Open Heart Surgery. (1979) A book published to cash in on the spike in Goon Show popularity in the 1970s/80s. A few of the verses are worth reading twice. Most are diary entries, of interest only to Spike and those who care about him. I like the Goon Show, and love Milligan’s off-kilter squint at the world. But these verses don’t do it for me. Reading them, I feel like a voyeur. The decorations by Laura Milligan relate to the companion verses in their expressions of similar hurts. *1/2
06 November 2020
Conan Doyle's Father
Michael Baker. The Doyle Diary (1978) Reproduction of one of Charles Altamont Doyle’s sketchbooks, made while he was at Sunnyside, a lunatic asylum in which he spent most of the last years of his life. He was Arthur Conan Doyle’s father. Arthur in his early reminiscences dealt harshly with his father, who was not the financial success he could perhaps have been. Later, Arthur mellowed, perhaps because both his medical and his personal experience showed him that Charles was a sick man, badly treated. Baker tells the story at length, not easy to do, because there is little documentary evidence of Charles life, and partly because there was a good deal of reticence about the details of his ill health. Baker concludes that Charles suffered from epilepsy made worse by alcoholism. Charles was not a pushy man, he lacked his older brothers’ ambition and energy. Dicky Doyle had a successful career as a cartoonist for Punch, for example. Perhaps alcohol was self-medication for his sense of failure.
The drawings and text of Charles sketchbook show us a man of gentle feelings and sometimes mischievous humour. He describes himself as a “harmless old gentleman”, which on the evidence he was, He certainly wasn’t a lunatic, even by the vague standards of the time. Long-term care homes existed, but were little more than hotels with some medical services, so the asylum was the only place to tend him when he became unable to care for himself and his family.
I don’t recall where I found this book, or when. And addition to a collection of Holmesiana, and a document relevant to the study of our treatment of the harmless ones among us. **½
Learning to See in the Dark (poems by Lorraine Janzen)
Lorraine Janzen. Learning to see in the dark (2003) Janzen was teaching at Nipissing University when she published this book of poems. She is now professor emerita at Ryerson, and has earned a reputation as a pioneer in studying the relationship between text and image in illustrated books.
These poems are readable, and collectively show us a persona that’s sensitive to her world, and not quite sure how to reconcile the light and the dark. The title suggests a method, but there’s no guarantee it will work. As poems, they show a nice talent. Her ability to make something with words isn’t always as strong as her ability to imagine something worth making.
Nevertheless, here are some random lines that made me read twice:
Shuffling the leaves of past and present
I see footsteps everywhere
shadows so deep
you could disappear forever.
...
There’s a ghost
in my mother’s typewriter
It eats the endings of her words
...
There’s a hole in my heart
where you passed through
I’ve kept the bullet
wrapped in burlap
In the spring
I’ll plant it in my garden.
Most of Janzen’s verse is discursive, it’s rhetoric written line-wise to guide the voice into its meaning. You discover a mind alert to memory and meaning, even if not always sure of its insights. A good read for anyone who likes poetry, and certainly, I think, a souvenir for anyone who knows her personally. **½
03 November 2020
Plagues and the Fall of Empires
Plague in Marseilles, 1720
Yesterday (November 2nd), I read an article in Junior Skeptic (included in Skeptic Magazine). It told the history of plagues, of epidemics, of pandemics. How an unknown disease killed upwards of 20% of the population of Athens (404 BCE). How a plague during Marcus Aurelius’s reign (161-180 CE) killed 20% or more of the citizens of Rome. How the first wave of bubonic plague killed somewhere between 25 and 50 million people in Europe (it reached Constantinople in 542). The second plague pandemic killed about 1/3rd of the European population, and some settlements were wiped out completely. (The last plague epidemics occurred in the 1600s and 1700s.) How smallpox ravaged Europe. How the Europeans brought smallpox to the Americas, killing up to 90% of indigenous populations.
In every case, major political and economic change followed. Athens lost the Peloponnesian War. Rome became weak, and finally lost its hegemony a couple of centuries later. The bubonic plague finished off the western Roman Empire. And so on. A little extra research showed that the second and third waves of bubonic plague caused Europe-wide wars and re-arranged the remnants of the Roman Empire. Even the Spanish Flu of 1918-19 caused disruption: the Roaring 20s were as much a reaction to it as to the Great War.
And generally speaking, people forgot the great plagues almost as soon as they fizzled out. School histories tend to ignore them. In fact, I didn’t know about the Athenian epidemic until I read this article; and I thought I had learned a pretty good overview of ancient Greek history.
We don’t want to be reminded that we are subject to the random appearance of pathogens. Even now, when SARS-COV-2 is infecting people, there are many who claim it’s a hoax, or no worse than the flu, or caused by G5 phone towers, or whatever. Anything, it seems, rather than face up to the terrifying truth: we have no defences against new pathogens. And another, much less convenient, truth: that these new pathogens transfer from animals to us. Which means that as climate change alters ecosystems, it also alters the interactions between humans and other animals, and so increases the odds that a new pathogen will emerge.
One of the factors in today’s US presidential election is covid-19. Mr Trump persists in downplaying its severity and perils. Mr Biden persists in using covid-19 as a symbol for Mr Trump’s failures as a President.
We shall see what happens. But in any case, the American Empire has begun its downward trajectory.
See Wiki’s article on SARS-COV-2
Pandemic statistics: bad news, good news.
19 October 2020
Mermaids greet a Captain Hailborne
A mermaid from a clip-art collection. The picture caption reads "Capt. Hailborne At St. Johns Newfoundland", the details suggest the 1600s, but the mermaid's welcoming gesture is a fantasy.
13 October 2020
Jane Ash Poitras, a deliberate artist
Virginia Eichhorn Consecrated Medicine. (2004) An illustrated monograph about Jane Ash Poitras, to accompany an exhibition at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery. Poitras is deliberate artist, she plans her works with meanings and messages in mind. Here, the meaning is indigenous medicine, and the colonial dismissal of indigenous knowledge and wisdom.
The pictures are not easy; they’re neither elegant nor pretty. They are layered compositions of collaged images in several media, surrounded by or overlaid with painted symbols and figures and texts. These add up to densely complex and not easily grasped meanings. One must read the work like a book, which I think is Poitras’s intent. Reading is both an intellectual and an emotional investment in constructing meaning. The layered images make us re-read the texts, and create both ironic distance and dissonant emotions. We both deconstruct and reconstruct meanings. It’s a journey from comforting cliche to unsettling insight. I think that’s what she intends.
Her personal history is I think the impetus for her art. She was a homeless indigenous child found and raised by an elderly German immigrant woman. She embarked on a conventional career as a university-educated micro-biologist. She apparently always maintained links to her heritage. She was not assimilated after all. But reconnecting to her indigenous self meant deconstructing the settler persona acquired in her adoptive home, and reconstructing her Cree self. Making art was her method. Her artworks invite us to share in her journey. Reading her art, we follow her on that journey, and we deconstruct the comfortable settler persona we’ve developed. What do we construct out of the wreckage? I hope it’s a new awareness of and respect for the indigenous people who were here first.
Poitras is part of the quest for what it means to be Canadian. It doesn’t mean what it was in colonial times. It doesn’t mean what it’s become in our multi-culturalist present. What does it mean, then? I don’t think we have the answers, but Poitras’s work contributes to the conversation. It’s a conversation whose meaning is constant reconstruction of the answers.
Go look at Poitras’s art if you get a chance. ****
The Song of the Three Holy Children (Illustrated by Pauline Baynes)
Gardening Advice
Gerald M. Knox. Lawns, Groundcovers, and Vines (Better Homes and Gardens pamphlet 1988) Nicely done summary on the topic, good photos, useful information, but no warnings about invasiveness of some of the plants described. Good reference for a beginner, good reminders for the experienced gardener. Begins with the “fundamentals” (soils, water, fertilisers, tools), then treats each title topic, and wildflowers and summer bulbs. The climate zone map that ends the book is drawn in black and white, which makes it hard to read. Good buy if you find it at a yard sale. ***
When Blood Lies (Richards, 2016)
Linda L. Richards. When Blood Lies (2016) A nicely done puzzle that begins when Nicole Charles buys an old desk and finds some ancient win...
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John Cunningham. The Tin Star (Collier’s, December 4, 1947) The short story adapted for High Noon . As often happens, the movie retains v...
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I heard the phrase recently. Can’t recall exactly when. It was uttered on a radio program, but I can’t recall what the program was about. Pr...
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Today we remember those whom we sent into war on our behalf, and who gave everything they had. They gave their lives. I want to think a...











