Words from Down Under

February 1, 2013

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In the County Hotel, one of the few buildings in Napier, New Zealand, that survived the 1931 earthquake in that region, there is a library of books that have been left by previous travelers and may be exchanged for books of current travelers.  Among the books I found was Lord Cobham’s Speeches.  Lord Cobham was the Governor General of New Zealand from 1957 to 1962.

From his speech at the “Sportsmen Luncheon” in Wellington, NZ, 52 years ago today, I found these pearls:

  • “. . . sport is a great character-former; it teaches that self-control which must always precede self-expression, and that gracious acceptance of defeat is the gold to victory’s silver.”
  • “Sport is harmony, balance and rhythm, the triple heritage handed down from ancient Greece, without which art is barren and civilization itself out of joint.  Above all, the acquiring of a technique is increasingly important in an age when automation and the machine have robbed human beings of that sense of fulfillment that comes of fine craftsmanship.”
  • “Today we see the result of trying to hustle youth through childhood and adolescence into manhood and womanhood.  Education is one of the few things that cannot be hurried, although modern techniques may facilitate instruction, for which education is often mistaken . . .  In these instances, sport and games can and must play an increasingly important part in producing well-balanced citizens.  But before we do this, we must see to it that the games themselves don’t fall victims to the prevalent evils of selfishness, sharp practice and greed.”
  • “It is when the player of the game thinks himself greater than the game that both get into trouble.”

Tools of Thought

July 13, 2018

(This blog first appeared on MHSAA.com on May 11, 2012.)


I am famous at home and office for my lack of keyboarding skills. The only “C” grade I received in high school was a summer school course in what was then called “typing.” At Dartmouth I paid a woman who worked at the dining hall to type my college papers. In an early job at the University of Wisconsin I typed the play-by-play of Badger football and basketball games with a clumsy “hunt-and-peck” approach.

Today, with the same lack of style, I pound out dozens of emails daily, hammering the keys like my first manual typewriter required four decades ago.

But for any document of great length or importance, I do as I’ve always done: take up pencil (my software) and legal pad (my hardware). There is no question that, for me, the nature of the equipment I’m using for writing affects the nature of the thinking.

With his eyesight failing late in his life, Freidrich Nietzsche bought his first typewriter, changing from pen and paper to the new technology of the 1800s. According to a 2008 article in Atlantic Monthly by Nichols Carr, a friend wrote to Nietzsche in a letter that, since adapting to the telegraphic style, Nietzsche’s terse prose had become even tighter. To which Nietzsche replied: “You are right, our writing equipment takes part in the forming of our thoughts.”

Which makes one wonder where all today’s tweeting and texting may take us.