On Language as a closed system and its relevance in “The Bascombe Valley Mystery”

Given my native proficiency in English, the language in which Arthur Conan Doyle originally scribed his short story, “The Boscombe Valley Mystery,” it would appear that this supposed mastery of English would lend to me, as Saussure may have argued, an automatic and irrevocable access to the closed system of English. Thus, many of the sound-images—or, images-acoustiques—would be immediately transmitted, without hesitancy, from the paper to my own thinking. And yet, that same hybris ultimately betrays a reading of the story, lending false cues toward nonexistent images and turning away from ones that may, from another perspective, seem obvious. It is clear here that—much to Saussure’s dismay, in his own focus on words with single definitions—lingual ambiguity plays such a critical role.

Pizza, Priorities, and Aretaic Ethics

On a sunset stroll along the Ocean City boardwalk in the heat of summer, the same scene unfolds as always: Teenage boys and girls ride their bikes and their skateboards in packs, yelling over the crowds. Young parents scramble to keep track of their young children, who jostle one another, sprinting through small groups of friends and family in the miles-long crowd. Among the jewelry stores, mini golf courses, and tee shirt shops, Manco & Manco stands alone in its old-timey, carnivalian glare.

To locals and tourists alike, this 60-year-old pizzeria is forever legendary for serving the best slice on the South Shore. Just take a look inside the restaurant, and you’ll see an ever-present variety of patrons that surpasses generational bounds. Many gaze at the pizza as it enters and exits the oven, from dough to delicacy, before it is speedily sliced and shuttled to patrons lounging at the tables, sitting at the bar, and standing in line for take-out.

At Manco & Manco, pizza is an art.