Dear Friends of the Pub Quiz,
I grew up in Washington, D.C. As Washingtonians, my family and I visited the Capitol less often than other National Mall buildings because we had no representative in Congress. Not residents of a state, Washingtonians live in a perpetual condition of democratic disenfranchisement. Originating in 1768, the complaint of “No Taxation without Representation” was addressed by the American Revolutionary War for all American citizens except for those living in the city named after the preeminent hero of that war.
Nevertheless, we Washingtonians certainly appreciated the beauty and the majesty of the home of the U.S. Congress, in part because we saw the capitol so often, usually from afar. As a symbol, the U.S. Capitol is highly visible to residents for three important reasons. First, the grand dome was erected on what Thomas Jefferson named “Capitol Hill,” what is now a historic residential neighborhood where many members of Congress still own and rent homes. Pierre L’Enfant, who designed my hometown, once called the crest of the hill a “pedestal waiting for a monument,” and because of that high perch, the grand rotunda can be seen from many different locations in the city, including the top floors and roofs of the homes in my onetime DC neighborhood of Glover Park.
Second, because Pierre L’Enfant modeled the city on the grand avenues and the huge traffic circles of Paris, with the capitol foreseen to occupy the central hub of all the city’s spokes, as well as the prime meridian of the young country, many of the city’s grandest streets lead up to, or conclude at, the U.S. Capitol. For example, the Columbia Hospital for Women, where I was born (Al Gore and Duke Ellington were born there, too), used to abut Pennsylvania Avenue, and thus from the hospital you could see the U.S. Capitol, partially obscured by The White House. (I guess that in recent years, American democracy itself has been partially obscured by The White House.) Imagined as the center of the city, the U.S. Capitol marked the place where the D.C.’s unevenly-sized four quadrants converged. Not even needing numbers, the building’s address is merely “First Street SE, Washington DC.”
Finally, The Height of Buildings Act of 1899 ensured that buildings in cities like DC would not sprout up a bunch of skyscrapers whose top floors could not be reached safely or quickly by local firefighters. Congress subsequently passed The Height of Buildings Act of 1910 to limit the height of DC buildings in particular, and this is why the skyline in the Washington D.C. of the 1939 Jimmy Stewart drama Mr. Smith Goes to Washington or the 1951 Hitchcock favorite Strangers on a Train is so similar to the current look of the city. The 1910 act, which limits local construction projects to this day, ensures that the 288 foot tall U.S. Capitol is viewable from lower-slung buildings all over town. In comparison, at nine stories tall, the tallest building in Davis, Sproul Hall, would also be one of the taller buildings in D.C. if it were to be built in our nation’s capital.
Stepping into the grand rotunda with Kate and our kids during the summer of 2019, I was struck all over again by the grandeur of the majestic U.S. Capitol. Even though I was surrounded by glorious 19th and 20th century art as a resident of DC in the 1970s and 1980s, as a returning Californian, I was left awestruck by the architecture, statuary, and grand murals. I’ve been thinking about one painting in particular, “British Burn the Capitol 1814” by Allyn Cox. It shows the first time that our Capitol was sacked, by British soldiers during the War of 1812. In the painting, the redcoats had returned, overrunning and setting ablaze our federal buildings, some still being built.
As I reflect on the events of January 6th, when again the capitol was overrun by what might be called domestic enemy combatants, as well as rioters, looters, and seditionists, my sadness is compounded when I consider the loss of life, and the desecration of our national symbol of American representative democracy. Donald Trump has convinced wide swaths of Americans to embrace his conspiracy theories and false claims about the U.S. electoral process. Political scientists and media figures are accusing Donald Trump of orchestrating stochastic terrorism, a phenomenon in which a demagogic leader demonizes a group of people, in this case Trump’s own vice president and Republicans in Congress, and then suggests that something should be done about the problem. Lone wolf terrorist acts often result. In this case, as has been thoroughly analyzed by political analyst and professor of journalism Seth Abramson, Trump presented not only an objective for his “army” of insurgents, but also Pennsylvania Avenue marching orders: a command to attack coming directly from their Commander in Chief. Tragedy and desecration were the result.
Thinking again of the War of 1812, and the wider resolve to exclude Trump from using his platform to inspire further sedition and violence, or from running for public office again, I am reminded of the words of Albert Gallatin (1761-1849), our country’s longest-serving Secretary of the Treasury and the founder of New York University. One of the negotiators of the Treaty of Ghent that ended the War of 1812, the war that last saw the Capitol attacked, Gallatin said, “The war has renewed and reinstated the national feelings and character which the Revolution had given, and which were daily lessened . . . They are more Americans; they feel and act more as a nation; and I hope that the permanency of the Union is thereby better secured.”
Whenever I visit my mom’s condo, which is less than a mile from where Officer Brian Sicknick was killed last Wednesday, I am filled with pride and wonderment by the vistas, the architecture, and the momentous history of my hometown. This recent terrible episode at the Capitol, and the anti-democratic pronouncements of Trump and the absolutist and often white supremacist beliefs of his followers, remind us that at certain times in our nation’s history our democracy has been fragile, even “under threat.” I look forward to brighter days. As January 20th inches ever closer, I hope that we shall soon enter a new era in which we will all better uphold and secure the democratic ideals of what Gallatin called our American Union.
Tonight’s Pub Quiz will feature questions on topics raised above, as well as on the following: southern cities, basketball heroes, American presidents, parades, leftover grains, Romeo and Juliet, New York bridges, fouls, acclaimed novels, biomolecules, Google maps, unpleasant drives, five-syllable places, film history, good men, jazz, dynasties celebrated in North America, public buildings, Beatles songs, bald children, the word “anteriorly,” the surreal quality of being a vegetable buffet, American rivers, John Cusack, Sherlock Holmes, nutritional patterns in computer science, current events, and Shakespeare.
Thanks to all of you who support the Pub Quiz and my continued sending of these newsletters. Those individuals and teams who support these efforts on Patreon, even at only $4 a month, help to ensure that I can continue this effort during these dark times. Thanks especially to the sustaining patrons of the Pub Quiz Newsletter: The Original Vincibles, Quizimodo, and Bono’s Pro Bono Oboe Bonobos. It might be said that all readers of this newsletter benefit from their generosity. If you would like to subscribe, and thus enjoy the unlocked illustrated bonus pub quiz questions posted on Patreon (including one this morning about Florida citrus), know that the first month of your dues will be donated to the Smith-Lemli-Opitz-Foundation or to a charity of your choosing.
Stay safe, stay indoors, and stay ready to participate in this week’s Pub Quiz.
Dr. Andy
P.S. Here are three questions from last week’s quiz:
- Successful Actors. One actor’s films made $13 billion during the 2010s, more than any other actor. Name her.
- Science. On average, what is the third-brightest natural object in the night sky after the Moon and Venus?
- Books and Authors Who Were Born in Germany and who Died in Los Angeles. In 1986, Time Magazine called what poet who was the subject of numerous films, including the Mickey Rourke film Barfly, a “laureate of American lowlife”?
P.P.S. Former California Poet Laureate and Chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts Dana Gioia will be coming to Poetry Night on January 21st at 8 PM. I hope you can join us that night via Zoom. Details to come.
P.P.P.S. “Love the art. Immerse yourself in it. Read as much as possible. Memorize poems that move or delight you. Search out friendships with other writers. Create your own community of writers. It doesn’t have to be large—two or three people will sustain you. Write or revise every day, even if only for an hour. Don’t postpone writing until some mythical moment arrives. Poetry begins in your real life or not at all. Poetry is not a career. It is a vocation, a dedication. It will transform your life, if you let it.” Dana Gioia
P.P.P.P.S. I’m glad you could join us for part of this sightseeing trip, Melissa Skorka! I hope you are happy and safe. We think of you often.