I've got to admit that, more than not, I'm usually opposed to programmatic classical music--music that tells a distinct story. Beethoven's sixth symphony, in my mind, is much more interesting without imagining thunder-fearing shepherds dancing in some far-off Arcadia. Similarly, Schönberg's Verklärte Nacht is much better when it's not a story about a wife conceiving an illegitimate child.

As a side note, if you're at all afraid of Schönberg, Verklärte Nacht is a great place to start. If you've tried Verklärte Nacht, and still don't like him, Gürre Lieder is another possibility.

In general, I feel that the story somehow trivializes the music. That instead of the great musical moment in the Andante con moto of the fourth Beethoven Piano Concerto, I'm thinking where exactly Orpheus is in hell, or what's becomed of the beloved in the fourth movement of the Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique.

I feel that this reduction somewhat trivializes the experience of the music, and usually I'll fight against telling anyone the story if they're listening to the piece for the first time.

Thank God for exceptions.

There are, to date, two pieces for which I feel that a program enhances the experience of the music.

The first one comes from Beethoven—an old favorite, his fifth symphony. No, I suppose I don't side with ETA Hoffman in his over-the-top analysis of the piece, and that sort of thing isn't appropriate, in my mind (again, it tends to trivialize the music).

But the best description of the final two movements, I feel, comes from EM Forrester's Howard's End:

[...]Helen said to her aunt: 'Now comes the wonderful movement: first of all the goblins, and then a trio of elephants dancing'; and Tibby implored the company generally to look out for the transitional passage on the drum.[...]'No; look out for the part where you think you have done with the goblins and they come back,' breathed Helen, as the music started with a goblin walking quietly over the universe, from end to end. Others followed him. They were not aggressive creatures; it was that that made them so terrible to Helen. They merely observed in passing that there was no such thing as splendour or heroism in the world. After the interlude of elephants dancing, they returned and made the observation for the second time.[...]

A good (excellent, top-of-the-line, even) recording is this one.

The second piece is relatively recent. On the advice of a friend, I took to listening to the Prokofiev Piano Concerti. What wonderful pieces—particularly the second Concerto. I've got to admit I have a crush on the last two movements of the piece—they make me feel like I'm on the Island of Dr. Moreau. I can hear the strange animals&mdash:ducks with the bodies of dogs, weird platypus-like snake creatures, hippopotamaic tiger creatures, bears with long dinosaur-like tails and huge horns, spiders with wriggling tounges and butterfly-like wings, flies with legs coming out of their eyes, &c.

Regardless of whether or not it helps, it's great, and worth listening to. I have and enjoy this recording, although I certainly don't know if it's the best. I do recommend it either way.

I am rapidly becoming skeptical of the modern class action lawsuit.

First of all, it seems to be a triumph of all-eggs-in-one-basket trial gambling and a too-optimistic faith in technocracy rather than decentralized decisionmaking. This is fine for plaintiffs with weak cases since sane companies will settle out a massive case rather than face the risk of an errant judge or jury, and it does decrease some of the litigation costs, but it means that everything lives and dies on the assignment of the judge and the venue and the class certification, rather than an actual trial of the actual evidence.

But far more importantly, I think class actions are fundamentally unfair to the plaintiffs who do not opt in to them. That one's private civil claims can be raised, brought, lost, estopped or settled in a legal proceeding one does not know about or has not asked to become a part of, violates basic tenets of Procedural Justice. It can also lead to pathological manipulation if the class is not homogenous, as those with one type of claim cannibalize another group during settlement time.

Which brings us to Wal-Mart, which is appealing its class-certification order to the 9th Circuit as it is sued by some lawyers who purport to represent 1.5 million people. I have no idea how many of those people have affirmatively agreed to have this decision decide their legal claims, but I suspect it is not 1.5 million.

I have nothing against a group of people affirmatively banding together in a single lawsuit where they see economies of scale. Indeed, I think such collective litigation is wise, useful, and just. But I think that such a process should always be based on opting *in* (subject to whatever rights, reservations, and contracts one wishes to negotiate) not to acting out. The FRCP contain very permissive joinder rules, and we can use them without falling back on the class action.

Certainly there will still be cases where collective action problems mean that wrongdoers will not be sued. This is part of why we also have criminal laws and criminal law enforcement agencies, to enforce the rights of parties too diffuse or inchoate to be able to sue in court.

Wal-Mart may or may not have engaged in some sort of giant gender-discrimination conspiracy. I have a fairly low view of corporate responsibility, so I find it likely that the corporation is not wholly innocent of wrongdoing here. But this is a quite silly way to structure a justice system that is supposed to resolve the question. The odds that the results of the trial will reflect the Fact of the Matter are not a lot better than random.

An ex-Crescatter sends along news of this story. Martin Weitzman, a Harvard econ professor, has agreed to pay $600 to a farmer from whom he is accused of stealing manure. That is about 30 times market rate.

One hesitates to jump to conclusions, and the professor has not yet admitted his guilt, but the possible jokes almost jump off the page.

Victor muses (with what I believe to be approval) about the stream of laws enacted in various states to curb eminent domain abuse. [There appears to be some disagreement about whether these should be called "Kelo" laws or "anti-Kelo" laws, which depends on whether you want to name them after the Court's decision or the decision's victim.]

My favorite story on the trend so far has come from the Washington Post: "To call it a backlash would hardly do it justice." (But I could do without the notion that state protections of property constitute "nullif(ication)").

Meanwhile, Mark Graber hopes to become a victim of eminent domain. Of course, that means the government could obtain his home from him consensually; if only there were more Professor Grabers living in the path of Economic Development, we would not need eminent domain at all.