Saturday, December 29, 2007

I Am Legend, Round 2

After my second viewing of I Am Legend, three things are certain to me:

1. I Am Legend is a legitimately terrifying movie. I was scared the first time I saw it, but chalked it up to the fact that I avoid creepy movies because I scare easily and feel like an idiot when I look over my shoulder in the dark later at night. But after watching it with my sister (a scary movie connoisseur of sorts) and seeing her reaction, I am convinced.

2. Will Smith rules. I knew this before seeing Legend again, but a victory lap is always nice.

3. I Am Legend is much better the second time around. I went into the theatre knowing I'd probably like it better since the edge would be taken off of the scare factor. This was true, although I still found myself wanting to look away from the screen at certain scenes. Having that first viewing under my belt made the second go considerably less stressful, and that alone would have made it a more enjoyable watch for me. But I also had the pleasant experience of noticing little nuggets in the film that had escaped me.

  • Fred the Mannequin - When I first saw Fred, coupled with the look on Will Smith's face, I though that the "Darkseekers" had ventured outside during the day by donning clothing. I was prepared to be furious at such a cheeseball bit of writing that allowed the infected to become more dangerous to Smith, but fortunately that wasn't the case. The second time I saw this scene I caught what had given me my initial impression. Fred's head moves to look in Smith's direction when he stops the car. And after that, every time the camera cuts away and returns to Fred, he's in a slightly different position.

  • Smith's "love interest" in the video store is in the porno section. And he put her there.

  • Most folks probably caught this the first time around, but I didn't; when Smith wakes up from his suicidal night on the town and walks into his kitchen, Ana and Isaac(?) appear as his wife and daughter.

Also, wasn't it amazing to see Smith frantically trying to convince the infected of their illness and his ability to fix them while they screamed and flung themselves against the glass to tear him apart?

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

What Ho, Mr. McConnell


A splendid day of photography and visiting at the McConnell Mansion can be viewed here.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Engrish Slays Me


Need help staying up late studying for those finals, suckers? Try Marxism!

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Compound Interest

"Though Christian charity sounds a very cold thing to people whose heads are full of sentimentality, and though it is quite distinct from affection, yet it leads to affection. The difference between a Christian and a worldly man is not that the worldly man has only affections or 'likings' and the Christian has only 'charity'. The worldly man treats certain people kindly because he 'likes' them: the Christian, trying to treat every one kindly, finds himself liking more and more people as he goes on - including people he could not even have imagined himself liking at the beginning.

This same spiritual law works terribly in the opposite direction. The Germans, perhaps, at first ill-treated the Jews because they hated them: afterwards they hated them much more because they had ill-treated them. The more cruel you are, the more you will hate; and the more you hate, the more cruel you will become - and so on in a vicious circle for ever.

Good and evil both increase at compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories you never dreamed of. An apparently trivial indulgence in lust or anger today is the loss of a ridge or railway line or bridgehead from which the enemy may launch an attack otherwise impossible."

~Clive, Mere Christianity

Friday, December 07, 2007

New Guy Ritchie Flick


Two nights ago I watched Revolver, Guy Ritchie's latest movie that came out in October 2005 over in jolly old England. I was actually lucky enough to be there when it did and caught it on the big screen in Oxford. Everywhere around London and Oxford were posters claiming it to be Guy Ritchie's "return to form," the form being Snatch and Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, and not the travesty that apparently was Swept Away.

Revolver definitely has some of the Ritchie stylization, but more so visually than in the dialogue. Jason Statham stars (with hair!) and gives a great show as he always does with Ritchie at the helm. There's a bit of metanarrative writing that can feel a little tired though, along with a FightClubish dilemma that may turn some folks off.

However, those issues aside, the movie is more than worth watching for Ray Liotta's performance alone. I just saw on the apple trailers site that it's being released in the US today, but nowhere around Moscow/Pullman yet. And yes, that's Andre 3000. Check out the trailer.

Victoire!

After many hours spent tinkering, the 4Runner once again glides down the road with power steering. Yosh.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

DIY (for amusement only) or Jack of No Trades

In a flurry of hobby activities this past month I’ve had light shine on an aspect of my character. A breakdown of what I’ve been up to with my boatloads of free time:

The Toyota: Always a project to work on, sometimes crucial, sometimes cosmetic, the 4Runner’s 20 some years have been surprisingly kind with no major problems to date. The current task is fixing the power steering system, which blew a pressure line minutes before driving down to Colorado in May. I recently had a new one made for my quirky setup of a 1988 Supra engine fitted into the 86 4Runner body, and plugged it in. While attempting to loosen the pump in order to slide the belt back onto the pulley, I inadvertently removed part of the casing of the pump, exposing an O-ring fitted to a gasket which proceeded to dump ATF fluid everywhere, including my brake which now has a wonderfully high pitched shriek.

After replacing my mistake, I got everything else back together only to find no power steering. Many automotive forums and email conversations later, still no luck. Not only no power steering, but a slight leak from my early endeavor with the pump that I thought I’d pinch off by tightening what I thought was a loose bolt. The bolt stripped the inside of the bolt hole so I found myself searching for a new pump. Found one on eBay for $45 (normally $115), and got it Saturday. This afternoon during a break in the rain I pulled out the old pump and discovered a missing air control valve on the new pump. The valve is fused to a bolt that threads into the pump and runs one line to the engine and another to the air intake. I managed to take the good valve off of the old pump, but was unsuccessful in removing the broken one from the new. Then I wondered if that valve is supposed to come off at all. Then the rain started up again.

It sounds like I know a lot about cars, right? I mean after all, I’m talking about valves and pumps like I know what’s what. It’s true that I’ve learned a ton about cars by taking on all these projects by myself or with a knowledgeable friend’s help. But when the day is done, I’m still left with a car that doesn’t have power steering.

The Sears-Kenmore: My Mom was good enough to let me take her old Sears-Kenmore sewing machine back to Idaho with me after a swell time home for Thanksgiving. We spent an evening working out the kinks and she showed me step by step how to thread the thing, load a bobbin, and perform minor miracles with needle and string. I even took pictures of the process to help me get started back here.

Well this morning I decided to have a go at patching up my old Carhartts, which are fashionably worn through at the thighs, but pow’rful cold lately. And sometimes you just don’t want to wear the overalls, you know? So I brought up my tutorial pics, threaded that mother, loaded the bobbin, and ran a practice stitch through some scrap cloth. Perfect. To the task of wrestling burly duck cotton under the pressure foot without snagging the needle. Things weren’t going so smoothly so I removed the pressure foot and needle, positioned the pants and patch in place, and replaced them. Now there’s some crazy voodoo that happens on sewing machines where the thread from the top travels via needle to the underworld of the machine and returns with a loop of bobbin thread. I don’t get it, but it has to happen to get a decent stitch. Once the foot and needle were back home, the bobbin loop wasn’t jivin’ for an infuriating 45 minutes. I finally removed all thread and replaced everything, had it working for about 3 minutes before breaking the needle. Then to the truck.

I wouldn’t say that I’ve had a revelation, but these failures on both extremes of Manliness and Domesticness have caused me to really look at my rag-tag assembly of “skills” and how I spread myself over too many interests and hope to be master of all of them. I want to write well, take great pictures, be a strong bike rider, fix cars, know about music, play music, write music, make clothes, hike, and read everything. It’s not happening.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Hi-Def Holidays


I've been reading up on and experimenting a bit with high dynamic range photography lately, and also thinking of creating some Christmas cards this year. So it's only natural that the two would come together eventually. This is just some preliminary experimenting with a tonemapped HDR image of some Christmasy looking foliage that I collected and photographed in a little makeshift studio. I'm still trying to think of a nice arrangement for both the leaves/berries, and a general layout of the card, so if you have any suggestions....

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Friday, November 16, 2007

New Read

I'm trying to alternate my reading between fiction and non right now. Having just finished Steinbeck's The Pearl I'm now on my way into C.S. Lewis's Studies in Words. I just got through his 24-page introduction which, in classic Lewis form, laid out quite clearly where he was and wasn't gonna go (girl). Not surprisingly, he's isn't concerned with the detailed etymologies of every word or comparing phonetics in order to make connections. His focus is, like most of his writing, on the practical; how language and words affect and are used and misused by Joe Simpson down the street (or Neville Galvin in Lewis's case).

I'm especially interested in if/how he treats the tendency we have to interpret phrases like "I don't like butter" as "I have a thing against butter." He touches briefly on the taking of disinterested as "bored" in the introduction, so I'm hoping for some mo.

I'll leave you with this little bit:

Of course, any man is entitled to say he prefers the poems he makes for himself out of his mistranslations to the poems the writers intended. I have no quarrel with him. He need have none with me. Each to his taste.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

One More From Percy

This passage reminded me of Salinger, not because the writers are similar, but in Percy's description I saw any of Salinger's neurotic, affected characters:


The romantic sits across the aisle, slumped gracefully, one foot propped on the metal ledge. He is reading The Charterhouse of Parma. His face is extraordinarily well-modeled and handsome but his head is too small and, arising as it does from the great collar of his car coat, it makes him look a bit dandy and dudish. Two things I am curious about. How does he sit? Immediately graceful and not aware of it or mediately graceful and aware of it? How does he read The Charterhouse of Parma? Immediately as a man who is inthe world and who has an appetite for the book as he might have an appetite for peaches, or mediately as one who finds himself under the necessity of sticking himself into the world in a certain fashion, of slumping in a acceptable slump, of reading an acceptable book on an acceptable bus? Is he a romantic?
He is a romantic. His posture is the first clue: it is too good to be true, this distillation of all graceful slumps. To clinch matters, he catches sight of me and my book and goes into a spasm of recognition and shyness. To put him out of his misery, I go over and ask him how he likes his book. For a tenth of a second he eyes me to make sure I am not a homosexual; but he has already seen Kate with me and sees her now, lying asleep and marvelously high in the hip. (I have observed that it is no longer possible for one young man to speak unwarily to another not known to him, except in certain sections of the South and West, and certainly not with a book in his hand.) As for me, I have already identified him through his shyness. It is pure heterosexual shyness. He is no homosexual, but merely a romantic.

-And this is where it gets really good-

Now he closes his book and stares hard at it as if he would, by dint of staring alone, tear from it its soul in a word. "It's - very good," he says at last and blushes. The poor fellow. He has just begun to suffer from it, this miserable trick the romantic plays upon himself: of setting just beyond his reach the very thing he prizes. For he prizes just such a meeting, the chance meeting with a chance friend on a chance bus, a friend he can talk to, unburden himself of some of his terrible longings. Now having encountered such a one, me, the rare bus friend, of course he strikes himself dumb. It is a case for direct questioning.
He is a senior at a small college in northern Wisconsin where his father is bursar. His family is extremely proud of the educational progress of their children. Three sisters have assorted PhDs and MAs, piling up degrees on into the middle of life (he speaks in a rapid rehearsed way, a way he deems appropriate for our rare encounter, and when he is forced to use an ordinary word like "bus" - having no other way of conferring upon it a vintage flavor, he says it in quotes and with a wry expression). Upon completion of his second trimester and having enough credits to graduate, he has lit out for New Orleans to load bananas for a while and perhaps join the merchant marine. Smiling tensely, he strains forward and strikes himself dumb. For a while, he says. He means that he hopes to find himself a girl, the rarest of rare pieces, and live the life of Rudolfo on the balcony, sitting around on the floor and experiencing soul-communions. I have my doubts. In the first place, he will defeat himself, jump ten miles ahead of himself, scare the wits out of some girl with his great choking silences, want her so desperately that by his own peculiar logic he can't have her; or having her, jump another ten miles beyond both of them and end by fleeing to the islands where, propped at the rail of his ship in some rancid port, he will ponder his own loneliness.
In fact, there is nothing more to say to him. The best one can do is deflate the pressure a bit, the terrible romantic pressure, and leave him alone. He is a moviegoer, though of course he does not go to movies.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Walker Percy

Over the summer I read The Moviegoer by Walker Percy in brief installments on trail. Whenever I had heard about Percy from friends it was always in relation to his rejection of Protestantism in favor of Catholicism, similar to T.S. Eliot. While this decision is still interesting to me since the trend is certainly in the other direction, I didn't catch a whole lot of that choice in his novel. It was actually more enjoyable to read as a collection of well-worded statements than as a cohesive plot. Here's one of my favs:

My first idea was the building itself. It looks like a miniature bank with its Corinthian pilasters, portico and iron scrolls over the windows. The firm's name, Cutrer, Klostermann & Lejier is lettered in Gothic and below in smaller letters, the names of the Boston mutual funds we represent. It looks far more conservative that the modern banks in Gentilly. It announces to the world: modern methods are no doubt excellent but here is good old fashioned stability, but stability with imagination. A little bit of old New England with a Creole flavor. The Parthenon facade cost twelve thousand dollars but commissions have doubled. The young man you see inside is clearly the soul of integrity; he asks no more than to be allowed to plan you future. This is true. This is all I ask.

And another:

Everyone on This I Believe believes in the uniqueness and the dignity of the individual. I have noticed, however, that the believers are far from unique themselves, and are in fact alike as peas in a pod.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Green Day

I came across this blurb quoting Billie Joe commenting on Briney Spears's VMA appearance:



Green Day star Billie Joe Armstrong has blasted MTV bosses for letting "manufactured child" Britney Spears open the Video Music Awards.

The punk star admits watching the troubled singer stumble through a semi-live performance of new hit Gimme More at the September ceremony was like witnessing "a public execution".

He tells Rolling Stone magazine, "People want blood. They want to see other people thrown to the lions.

"How could the people at MTV, the people around her, not know this girl was f**ked up? People came in expecting a train wreck, and they got more than they bargained for.

"She is a manufactured child. She has come up through this Disney perspective, thinking that all life is about is to be the most ridiculous star you could be.

"But it's also about what we look at as entertainment - watching somebody go through that."

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Read Since the Summer

The Natural

Reading this was an unusual experience, having been so familiar with the film. I have no idea how many times I've seen it, but I have memories of watching it when we lived in Germany where we were until I was 12. Much darker and with a more devious main character, Malamud's book definitely has some of the typical Weltschmerz you find in Jewish writers, but in this case I felt real sympathy for Roy Hobbs. I almost think that it's because I have the movie story so ingrained in my mind that as I read Malamud, I was imagining all this happening to the upstanding, down-on-his-luck Roy Hobbs that Barry Levinson gave us.


The Giver

Another one of those “should've read in high school but our lit program was awful” cases. It also falls into the “the future is bland and controlled by “the Man”” category, which kind of gave me a disappointed feeling when I realized where it was going. I think because books like 1984 and Brave New World are so huge, writing about the future in similar terms feels like a knockoff. I'm ready for a future-book with the theme “the world is so bright and colorful and emotion-ridden and free that I don't know what to do with myself.”


I Am Charlotte Simmons

I was WAY into this story while reading it. I can't remember the last time I was so consumed with knowing what would happen next in a book. Sam was right on in describing it as pornographic without images at times. Wolfe doesn't spare his reader any of the dirty details associated with big university college life in a world of people obsessed with their social standing and personal pleasure. My only gripe storywise was the occasional feeling that Wolfe was laying the frat boy/college jock stereotype on a bit too thick. Almost every character had interesting developments and revelations that shook their understanding of self however, which helped take the edge off of the typecasting.


Grendel

John Gardner is probably my favorite author right now. This was fun to read through quickly, and I'm excited to start October Light next. I hear about Grendel being used in high schools fairly often and usually find it next to books like The Giver in bookstores, and I think it makes for a great book to discuss with teens. I especially like the style of writing a story from the perspective of another character in a known book, and think it would work well as a writing exercise.


“Cooling the Lava” from John McPhee's The Control of Nature

I remember enjoying McPhee's Irons in the Fire which I read about four years ago, but something has been lost in the years between these two. “Cooling the Lava” is another example of my theory that writing about extraordinary events makes it irresistibly tempting to write poorly. In 1973 the volcanic mountain Eldfell erupted on the island of Heimaey off the coast of Iceland. The town was home to about 5,000 people, most of whom were fishermen or families of. The lava from the eruption was creeping towards the harbor and launching “bombs”, baseball to car-sized chunks of basalt, up to three miles from the crater into and around the town. By rigging firehoses and other pump machinery, the citizens were able to literally stop the lava's advance by pumping millions of gallons of seawater onto the flow, diverting it into the ocean.

McPhee's account couldn't be more blandly written. It gives me some hope as a writer to know that something like this can be published by an author that people rave over.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

The Joys of Film


So I got my first roll of professional B&W film developed and I'm pretty happy with the results. There are also some more film shots that I scanned in from Greg and Annie's wedding.

I have mixed feelings about the graininess of the Eagle Cap pictures. This is a fairly high speed film, 1600, and increased grain is part of the bargain, but I feel like I could've gotten along just fine with 800 or 400 even with all the light available. Still, there's something right on about the texture of the landscape shots; I don't want to equate it to something like pre-faded jeans, but I suppose it's kind of like that. Can you dig it?

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Friday, October 19, 2007

Finally...


Almost 2 months after the fact, I've finally gotten around to putting up some pictures from Greg and Annie Albrecht's wedding in Juneau. There are also a few scanned shots from Sitka that I took with my lovely N80. Film still rocks the hizzie.

Sailing the Green Bay



Parental Guidance

I thought I'd seen it all in the little box at the beginning of previews that explain the movie's rating. Until now, "Intense Slime" ranked as my favorite, but while watching the trailer for In the Shadow of the Moon, this caught my eye:

"MILD LANGUAGE, BRIEF VIOLENT IMAGES, AND INCIDENTAL SMOKING"

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Eagle Cap, Oregon


Truly one of the most impressive areas I've backpacked/climbed in. Pictures here.

I also shot a few rolls of film on the new Nikon, including a roll of Fuji Neopan 1600 black and white which I've heard great things about. That business won't be back until Wednesdayish, at which point I'll be in Texas for yet another wedding. Hopefully we'll see this film scanned and posted early next month. Enjoy!

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

We're Back

Well after a long absence of any real substance on ye olde blog, I'm happy to announce that my new Dell has arrived and is humming along nicely. First order of business is to edit and gather my photos from Greg and Annie Albrecht's wedding, which I hope to get done tonight and post some highlights later next week.

If the 4Runner comes back with a clean bill of health I'm taking her down to the Eagle Cap Wilderness in Oregon for a few days. I picked up some filters for the 35mm and am way excited about shooting this new black and white film I ordered. A call down to the the forest service revealed that a foot of snow just fell in the area I'm thinking of trekking around in, so there's a chance of an epic.

Many thoughts and stories have been brewing in the past 4 months, so I hope to get back to a more regular posting schedule starting next week. Peace.

ps - The new Beirut is tickling my ears as I type this. Who can get enough of gypsy moaning, trilling trumpets and mournful accordions? Not me boy.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Corporate Hilarity

Woot.com, one of those crazy "deal-a-day" websites, just issued this rather hilarious letter to their disgruntled customers:

An Emergency Open Letter

To all Woot customers:

I have received more than three emails from Zune buyers who are upset about Woot dropping the price of the Zune by $20 one month after it went on sale the first time. After reading every one of these emails, or at least scanning their subject lines, I have some observations and conclusions.

First, I need to make a better effort to hide my email address.

Second, I am sure that we are making the correct decision to lower the price of the 30GB Zune from $149.99 to $129.99. This confidence is based on more than the holy doctrine of corporate infallibility. The Zune is a breakthrough product, and we have the chance to “ride the lightning” and “shoot the curl” this holiday season, not to mention “kill the messenger” and “rock the vote”, further enabling us to “pay the rent” and “keep the lights on”. It benefits both Woot and every Zune user (but especially Woot) to drag as many new victims as possible into the Zune “dungeon”. We strongly believe that misery loves company this holiday season.

Third, being in technology for 1+ years, give or take a year, I can attest to the fact that the technology road is bumpy. There is always some idiot changing lanes without signaling, and the potholes never seem to get fixed. If you always wait for the next price cut or to buy the new improved model, you’ll never buy any technology product. I mean, why should you? Truth is, you don’t really need any of this junk. We’re afraid you’ll catch on to that fact and overpaid frauds like me will have to go back into fields like telemarketing and burrito construction. Fortunately, most of you continue to languish in a consumerist stupor, wallets spread wide for us to plunder as we please. The bad news for us is that if you buy products from companies that support them well, you will receive years of useful and satisfying service. But we’re hoping you’ll buy from Woot instead.

Third-and-a-half, even though we are making the right decision to lower the price of the Zune, and even though the technology road is, like, this total Deathrace 2000-type scene, we need to do a better job taking care of our early Zune customers, at least until we find a private security firm we can afford. For some reason, our early customers trusted us. We must live up to that trust with our actions in moments like these, lest you turn off the money spigot that maintains our decadent lifestyles. These peacock-egg omelets and mink-lined Jacuzzis don’t pay for themselves, you know.

Therefore, we have decided to offer every Woot customer who purchased a Zune from us on August 22, 2007 (or in the last Woot-Off) a $10 Woot credit towards any Woot order of $40 or more, before shipping. If that’s you, just enter the coupon code BUMPYROAD while making your purchase, and boo-yah: you’re mayor of Discount City. This discount applies to any Woot site, including Woot.com, Shirt.Woot, Wine.Woot, Sellout.Woot, and Beets.Woot. It doesn't expire, so feel free to check back everyday 'til you find something that will temporarily fill the void in your soul. You may use the coupon as many times as you bought Zunes. So, if you bought one Zune from us back in August, you can use BUMPYROAD once; if you bought two, you can use it twice; and so forth and so on and what-have-you. But you can only use the discount once on any one order. We make this decision with every confidence that most of you will never want any of the crap we sell anyway.

We want to convincingly pretend to do the right thing for our valued Zune customers. We’d apologize for disappointing some of you, but we long ago lost the capacity for sincere remorse. We will continue to do our best to trick you into having high expectations of Woot.

Larry Stalin
Woot CYA Officer

Friday, September 14, 2007

Formal Wear Help

Does anyone know of any place nearby where I can get fitted for a tux?

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Too Good

This will make your day. Listener discretion is advised for this oldie but goodie that I stumbled upon as well.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Aware Again of the Cinema

Documentary on Cuteness
You don't really need to watch this past the mentioning of the narrator and her comment on mother polar bears. Hilarious.

Two Bad A's

We Own the Night -
Mark Wahlberg seems to shine brightest when playing an authority figure of some kind (firefighter in "I Heart Huckabees," hard cop in "The Departed," and Ass Whuppin' Head Honcho in "Four Brothers"), and he's back here as a cop in a "good brother/bad brother" flick with Joaquin Phoenix. Marky Mark also seems to in seamlessly with a 1970's backdrop.

American Gangster - Denzel and Russell Crowe will hopefully team up to pound Cuba Gooding Jr. for two and a half hours. I cringe a little at Crowe's Brooklyn accent, but maybe he'll just shoot lots of stuff.

And this just looks rad and I've heard nothing but amazing things about the almost 20 Beatles songs redone by the unknown cast who were apparently signed on by holding musical auditions.

Friday, September 07, 2007

Books Acquired Over the Summer

These hail from used book stores in Alaska, Idaho, and Colorado, as well as a few gifts.

The Death of Ivan Ilyich - Leo Tolstoy
Found in the Moscow Goodwill for $.69

Grendel - John Gardner
The Beowulf tale from the antagonist's perspective, I picked this guy up for $1.00 in Juneau.

It's Greek to Me! - Michael Macrone
Almost too embarrassing to mention, this book is like culture-porn; Explaining the Greek and Roman roots of everyday phrases and cliches, it provides instant nerd gratification with little work or sacrifice, and leaves you less capable of studying something real and in it's entirety.

The Music of What Happens - John Straley
Given to me by Margie Beedle, whose home we stayed at in Juneau. It's a mystery/suspense deal that takes place in Sitka.

Love This! - Andy Braner
Given to me by the author.

The Natural - Bernard Malamud
The Natural the movie is probably my favorite flick of all time, based almost entirely on sentimental reasons. The other 2% is the sappy (but rad) soundtrack by Randy Newman. I only recently discovered that a book by Jewish-American Bernard Malamud was the inspiration, and I couldn't resist the $.69 Goodwill special.

A Fine and Pleasant Misery - Patrick McManus
Kind of an impulse buy at the Moscow-Pullman airport for $3.00. Humorous musings on the idea of comfort in the outdoors, not too bad so far.

The Control of Nature - John McPhee
McPhee first caught my eye in a creative non-fiction class at the UI when I read some of his essays on modern day horse rustlers in the apparently still wild Southwest US. He's the kind of dude who dives in headfirst with his research on topics and this collection looked hott. Tales of places on Earth where Man is caught in a perpetual war against the elements.

I Am Charlotte Simmons - Tom Wolfe
Being a hard back bumped this Goodwill purchase up to something like $1.49, but I've heard so many good things about this little number that I couldn't say no. I've actually never read anything by Mr. Wolfe so I'm excited to give it a whirl.

Mountaineering: The Freedom of the Hills - multiple authors
The climber's Bible. Everything from navigation to building snow caves to bomber anchors to snow cycles in the alpine. And illustrations.

The Stranger - Albert Camus
Found it at camp.

Rocky Mountain Boom Town: History of Durango, Colorado - Duane Smith
I became very fascinated with the histories of most everywhere I traveled this summer, and thought the mining/outlaw history of one of my favorite places would be a good beginning. I almost dropped about $40 on a book about the Russian Orthodox movement in Sitka, Alaska, but Lady Sense stayed my wallet.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Sitka the Sweetest

Click here, then pull down the "About Sitka" menu, and click "Wish You Were Here!" Photos and stories to follow. Alaska is outstanding.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Summer Highlights and Things to Come


Amy and I have been comfortably back in Moscow almost a week now and take off on Thursday for Juneau, Alaska to photograph the wedding of Greg Albrecht and Annie Fox. Hopefully some rad shots of the ferry ride, wedding, and glaciers to come.

As is my custom, I've kept a running list of the many hilarious things I heard come out of many mouths this summer. Keep in mind for some of these that they were asked while in the middle of the Weminuche Wilderness on backpacking trips. Here's a peek:

"Hey guys, from now on, call me Mountain Spider."

"Hey Matt! What pot should we use to cook the hashbrowns?"
"The small one."
"So.... should I fill up the medium pot?"

"When's the rain gonna stop?"

"Do you guys have a laundry bag for us?"

And perhaps my favorite:

"How will we know when the water is boiling?"


More pictures may be pending on the fixing/replacing of my computer. There are a few more up from trips this summer over at flickr. I did just pick up this guy for next to nothing, so I may get back into the film game for a bit.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Glimpse


Some new pictures up at flickr, click the 'Photographs' on the right.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Onward

All B's for the final semester at UI. My degree will be put to good use this summer for another round of Kanakuk, this time working with the formidable Taylor Tinsley, the highly regarded Rose Cline, and the mysterious Tamara X--. Pictures and stories to follow throughout the summer. Pray for patience, wisdom, and my Toyota. She made it down, but not without some wounds.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Onion, You've Done It Again

Why oh why didn't I find this in time to paste it into my Brit Lit class evaluation form? The last line may be my favorite.

Sunday, May 06, 2007

Lewis on the Afterlife

“Is it possible for men to be too much concerned with their eternal destiny? In one sense, paradoxical though it sounds, I should reply, Yes. For the truth seems to me to be that happiness or misery beyond death, simply in themselves, are not even religious subjects at all. A man who believes in them will of course be prudent to seek the one and avoid the other. But that seems to have no more to do with religion than looking after one’s old age. The only difference here is that the stakes are so very much higher.”

~ Reflections on the Psalms

Friday, May 04, 2007

The Blow


A few months ago Chris Aberlesque, Asher and myself went up to Spokane to see The Blow play at Whitworth College. Parentheses is a song you need to hear.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Evals

In keeping with my tradition of offering alternative titles for classes I've taken at the U of I in my class evaluations, I submit to you my suggestion for Brit Lit 342 - "Gender Studies 101: The Wickedness of Men."

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Bounderby & Manfred



For my final project in Brit Lit I'm writing a short interchange between Dickens's Josiah Bounderby, and Lord Byron's Manfred. This is the first and roughest draft. I'm basically just aping the characters to demonstrate a grasp of the people in the stories we read, and avoid like the plague writing about anything dealing with women's rights or class struggles. Any advice would be rad, since I don't write fiction. The style is definitely more Hard Times than Manfred, but I get a bit of the Byronic Hero's desire for mad sympity. Enjoy, and comment:


After a longish pause, in which one man busied himself with the task of looking indispensable to the conversation and the other gaped forlornly into the sky, the former flapped his lips.

“I say, Manfred! You’ve quite a wit about you, not that it’ll get you anywhere in this town. Though I do declare that to be the most whimsical jib of the season!”

Manfred’s comment had, of course, been anything but whimsical, jovial, or lighthearted. Seemingly ignoring present company he remarked, “What is laughter but madness? And if madness could offer me that Oblivion which I so achingly seek, by a thousand oaths would I swear to pursue it with all that is left of my riddled heart. A heart so twisted, so—”

“Now now, that’ll do. No need to go on and on about whatever trifle bothers you at the moment. You’ve nothing to compare my own sufferings with anyhow, and you don’t hear me pinning you to the floor with the weight of my life’s tale, now do you?”

Having regained a stranglehold on the conversation, Bounderby took a healthy swig from his eminently practical mug. It wasn’t the worst ale from the brewhouse, and Josiah Bounderby of Coketown certainly wouldn’t expect to be drinking the best, though he could readily afford it. He’d settled on a modestly priced brown ale, which he enjoyed almost as much for its nondescript flavor as for its most agreeable price.

Manfred had positioned himself near a small window and gazed longingly at the world behind a thin glass pane.

“Would that I had not committed so grievous a sin so as to taint my very being to its core,” he wept, burying his face in his hands.

“Now stop a bit,” bellowed Bounderby. “I’ll not hear any more of this chattel from you on such a preposterous topic until you explain yourself reasonably. All this pomp and high speak over a mere --”

“Speak it not!” cried Manfred, thrusting his hand towards his companion. “For to even mention that moment would be to cast my soul into Hades, abandoning Him to the creatures of the Netherworld. My guilt stained hands clasp together to plead with you, remember my fault no more!”

Manfred threw himself at Bounderby’s feet, much to the swelling of Bounderby himself, who was secretly pleased with the situation, but felt obligated out of forced humility to command the man grasping at his ankles to desist.

“Hrmph! Stop that now, this pitiable groveling, you’ll tear my socks to ribbons! Not that I need them, heaven knows I made it through most of my life shoeless, much less without the comfort of socks. Socks would’ve likely slowed me down on my way to where I am today.”

Manfred regained himself and sat back in his stool, staring intensely at a dark spot on the floor between the two men.

“I say,” Bounderby began, looking from the spot to Manfred, “this business that’s troubling you…might I not be able to lend a hand in making things right? I certainly never received any leg up in this world from anyone, but I suppose it would complete the circle or some such thing for me to –”

At this point, a look of such horror came across Manfred’s face that Bounderby thought for a moment that some monstrosity was sidling up to him from behind, and began to turn around in his chair. While he struggled to rotate his bulbous figure in such a small area, Manfred expressed such abhorrence at Bounderby’s offer that the whale of a man had to bolster himself with another pull of ale before stepping back into the discussion.

“See now, it’s not like that, not like that at all. I wouldn’t be simply giving you the means to make right what has been spoiled. That’d be plain foolish of me, and Josiah Bounderby may be many unseemly things, but he’s no fool. I see it as an investment for the future, one that I’d like to see turn a tidy profit in the long run.”

“To entwine yourself with one so wretched as myself is something I cannot allow you to do. Though the Spirits may meddle with Man, I’ll not stoop to their baseness and pull a neighboring vessel down to the deep with my own!” cried Manfred, quite beside himself. “And more, what could a mere mortal as yourself do to cleanse what has been fouled in such a way? It is more of this madness we spoke of earlier.”

Bounderby, seeing his opportunity to call on the authority of a commoner, motioned blusterously for the barmaid to attend to them.

“Now ma’am,” he said, once she had come over and directed her attention from the weeping Manfred to the swelling Bounderby, “you’ve worked here at the King’s Arms pub for how many years?”

“Thirteen, sir, an’ good ones a’that.”

“Fine fine. Now surely in those thirteen years you’ve had a patron or two lose his balance and topple his glass to the floor, have you not? Or is this a magical place,” he said, looking at Manfred with great pleasure in his own proposing of this notion, “a place where the laws of the universe never make a fool of the man who has perhaps been a bit tipsy?”

“Aye sir, we ‘ave. Why in fact, jus’ the other night those Brecken boys was back froom a match an’ –”

“That’s fine, just fine. Now ma’am, I see that you’ve been here a good time and seen many spilled ales. How is it then that the floor upon which our stools sit is not covered with these blemishes?”

Here, the barmaid swelled a bit herself, and said with a beaming smile, “My husband, Clive, that’s ‘ow. He roons the woodshop near the butcher’s and comes to the Arms once a year to keep up the floors.”

“Now let us suppose that one desired to remove a certain spot from the boards. This one for instance.” He motioned towards the dark area Manfred had been eying earlier, much to the mortification of the spiller of ale.

“Hmmm,” said the barmaid as she leaned in for a closer look. “Well I suppose Clive could coom in early and knock that right out for say, three pound?”

“Do you suppose…,” Bounderby looked at her imploringly.

“Julia,” she beamed.

“Do you suppose, Julia, that you might mention that this spot was tended to by Josiah Bounderby of Coketown? Should anyone inquire as to its being cleaned that is. I’m not one for blowing my own horn, but I think it right proper to give credit where credit is due. Don’t you agree?” he directed this last question at Manfred, who was squirming under the gaze of both Bounderby and Julia.

“Have a bit of a tiff with the pint, love?” asked the smiling woman.

“Wretch that I am! Misery upon woe, will these Demons of Memory never cease to plague me? My soul, tender blossom, is unfit for trials such as these. Away!” As he uttered this last word, Manfred threw himself dramatically out of the nearby window, opened by an encouraging young pub rat. The window was but four feet from the ground, and as Manfred picked himself up from the dirt and flowers and shuffled off, Bounderby looked after him, shaking his head and ‘tsk tsking.’

“That’s Josiah with an ‘H’ ma’am, in case you mean to write it somewhere for a man to see.”

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Monday, April 23, 2007

Pictocards


I've scanned in a few shots from my 1 roll of 35mm taken in Utah and Boulder (with one artsy shot from Moscow). Check it.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Call Me An Idealist, But I Believe In Sinless Perfection

My little children , I am writing these things to you that you may not sin. And if anyone sins, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. - 1 John 2:1

Notice the wording of IF anyone sins, making sin seem to be the exception, and sinlessness to be the norm.

No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, that you may be able to endure it. - 1 Corinthians 10:13

Pretty clear. Nothing that's thrown at you is irresistible, your sin is a choice. If it's a choice and a sinless option exists, sinlessness can be a way of life.

Now I certainly don't believe in salvation making it impossible to sin, some kind of magical blessing that makes sin vaporize when it gets too close to the Sanctified Christian. But the admonishments we receive in Scripture aren't promoting some kind of "close enough" morality. There's no talk of an acceptable level of sin in the regenerate Christian's life.


I definitely think that just like a highly liturgical church needs to be on guard against producing robots that chant back the appropriate creed, those working with kids in an evangelical setting need to be aware of the opposite blunder. My experience has been that the latter tend to embrace more worldly mediums of ministry, everything from Switchfoot to "Satan is a Nerd" t-shirts. These may be mighty Hammers of God, who am I to say? The Devil's work may be smitten $16.99 at a time. But my point is that the line between believer and non-believer is a bit more blurred here, and in an attempt to match every gizmo the world produces with its Christian double two years later, some worldly philosophy can creep in.

That philosophy is the same that I've seen in the Education system, a kind of tip-toeing around feelings where we don't expect much from kids and when they do come up short, "it's ok," we say. "So," the goateed youth pastor asks me, "you think that we should expect kids to be sinless? Well then their self-image will be destroyed when they do sin." That's the point, I would reply. We should be repentant if we sin. It should bother us that we sin at all.



Matt 19:17- The rich man was sinless in all the commandments Jesus asked him about, many of which are sins people claim to be inescapable. He not only avoided the big ones like murder, adultery, and theft, but he also told no lies, honored his mother and father, and loved his neighbor.


John 8:11 - What does Jesus tell the woman caught in adultery to do? "Go your way. From now on sin no more." Hmmm...

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Ho Ho

Apparently, Google pulled an April Fools joke on all of us. From this page, it looked legitimate, but click on "Learn more..." for the funny stuff. My favorite line is the claim that "For every Gmail Paper we produce, the environment gets incrementally healthier." What a bunch of Goongles.

Saturday, April 14, 2007

New Items

Hot off the shelves of your local Co-Op:

Free range GummiBears: These little guys are fed exclusively on handpicked, chemical-free GummiBerries before being led to an internationally approved GummiSlaughter, agreed upon by a multi-ethnic board which included women. And they met at a round table.

Organic, shade-grown, fair trade soap: So you can feel globally responsible while washing behind....wait a minute....


*I love the Co-Op

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Abstinence is Too Easy

"If you asked twenty good men today what they thought the highest of the virtues, nineteen of them would reply, Unselfishness. But if you had asked almost any of the great Christians of old, he would have replied, Love. You see what has happened? A negative term has been substituted for a positive, and this is of more that philological importance. The negative idea of Unselfishness carries with it the suggestion not primarily of securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point. I do not think this is the Christian virtue of Love. The New Testament has lots to say about self-denial, but not about self-denial as an end in itself. We are told to deny ourselves and to take up our crosses in order that we may follow Christ; and nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we do so contains an appeal to desire. If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is not part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday by the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

~ Clive Staples Lewis, "The Weight of Glory"

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Today is the Day

....for a sweet song and so-so music vid. Enter the low-budget video world of Apollo Sunshine for a few minutes and soak in the goodness this Easter.

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Clang


In some of the circles I travel in, I hear snippets of Scripture uttered in a kind of "and that's that" tone. And while that is that, I do think that sometimes "that" isn't too carefully considered. I'm thinking specifically of the Proverb that reads "As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." In my experience this is interpreted by many as a handful of like-minded dudes sitting in a coffee shop sipping joe and asking each other questions that they either already know the answers to, or have been asked by thousands before them; the question only posed to prove the inquirer's piety.

Call me a literalist, but I can't get away from the idea of, you know, IRON sharpening IRON. It doesn't evoke images of Grandpa gently honing the edge of his pocketknife with a whetstone. If two pieces of the same material are brought together, the result will be violent and unpredictable. Large chunks that you thought were an integral part of your being can be broken off without warning with a harsh noise and bone-rattling vibration. The process of sharpening described here seems to be a bit more chaotic and intense than amiable discussion including questions like "How's your walk bro?"

Another thing to consider is that this Proverb isn't an instructional imperative. We're not told, "Take heed my son and do not follow the fool, who sharpens with moss." This is an observation, much like the preceding line "A quarrelsome wife is like a constant dripping on a rainy day; restraining her is like restraining the wind or grasping oil with the hand." These are the facts. Yet we don't see women running out of the house intent on being as unrestrainable as the wind to their husbands. That being the case, this could be read that iron sharpening iron isn't an inherently good thing.

Here are a few other translations of the same Proverb, just for fun:

King James: "Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend."
NRSV: "Iron sharpens iron, and one person sharpens the wits (or face) of another."

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Overheard, But Not By Me

My friend Jason just shared this little narrative with me, overheard by him at a coffee shop in Boulder, Colorado:

"What happened between Good Friday and Sunday morning when Jesus descended into hell?"
"Jesus was kicking ass. That's what was happening. The details, we won't know for a while."

Monday, April 02, 2007

A List of Pictures That Never Need to Be Taken Again

  • Statues of the Virgin Mary
  • Anyone holding a can of cheap beer with his hat on crooked
  • Babies
  • A ray of sunshine, inspirationally poking through stormy clouds

Please add as you see fit, as I'm sure this list isn't exhaustive.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Not Your Promises, But Mine

So I don't think that the great Muse Lucidity was with me when I wrote this, but I'd had the idea for a while and finally punched out a little essay for my Bible as Lit class. If you're familiar with the stories, just read the last two paragraphs for the meat of the essay.


Not Your Promises, But Mine

Seeing as how our text takes the time to point out specific instances of child sacrifice in the Old Testament, I thought I’d offer my take on what God may be trying to convey here. In order to do so, I’d like to first lay out the three instances of paedo-sacrifice we’ll be working with by briefly summarizing and highlighting relevant aspects of each.

Abraham and Isaac

Undoubtedly the most well known occurrence of child sacrifice in the Old Testament, the story goes that God told Abraham to “Take now your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah; and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you.” Abraham took two of his servants along with Isaac on a three day journey to the place God told him. When he could see the mountain, he left the two men and gave Isaac the wood to carry for the burnt offering, telling them to stay with the donkey and that “I and the lad will go yonder; and we will worship and return to you.” As father and son trekked onward, Isaac became aware of something missing, namely the lamb to be sacrificed. When he asked Abraham, “God will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son,” was the reply. When they reached the place, Abraham built an altar, arranged the wood, and bound Isaac atop the whole structure. As he drew his knife to slay his son, an angel of the Lord called to him saying “Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.” Abraham then saw a ram caught in a thicket, and offered the beast up as a burnt offering in place of his son. (Genesis 22:2-13)

On the surface, this story seems to be nothing more than a testing Abraham’s faith. God asked for the thing most precious to Abraham to be killed by his own hand for Him. If we look back a few chapters to Genesis 15 however, we find some important context for this scene. Abraham seemed distressed that he was unable to have a child with his wife Sarah, and that his heir would end up being one of his servants. God assured him that “this man will not be your heir; but one who shall come forth from your own body, he shall be your heir.” As He led him outside, God promised Abraham “Now look toward the heavens, and count the stars, if you are able to count them. So shall your descendents be.” What I’d like to focus on here is the initiation of a promise being on God’s side. He approached Abraham and made an unconditional covenant with him. This will be further explored after introducing the next two stories.

Mesha

Mesha, king of Moab in the 9th century BC, provides us with another account of child sacrifice, one that doesn’t end so merrily. Once Israel’s supplier of sheep, Mesha later rebelled against King Jehoram, inviting the army of the northern kingdom to lay siege to Moab. Surrounded in the chief Moabite city of Kir-hareseth as a final refuge, Mesha made one last military push through the Israelite army to Edom, but was forced back. As a last resort he takes his eldest son who would inherit his kingdom, and “offered him as a burnt offering on the wall.” While the text isn’t clear as to who Mesha offered his son to, the Moabite Stone has an inscription attributed to Mesha reading, “Chemosh drove him before my sight,” apparently referring to Jehoram at this battle.

Here, the emphasis seems to be on the weightiness of child sacrifice. A son offered to a foreign god still has enough magic, oomph, whatever you call it to drive back the Israelites. The text is a bit cryptic in describing their reaction, saying only that “there came great wrath against Israel, and they departed from him and returned to their own land.” Yahweh or Chemosh (or both) was impressed with this action to the point of preserving Moab. (2 Kings 3: 4-27)

Jephthah and his Daughter

The last tale of a child being offered to a god comes to us from the book of Judges. Before going to war against the Ammonites, Jephthah the Gileadite made a vow to the Lord saying “If Thou wilt indeed give the sons of Ammon into my hand, then it shall be that whatever comes out of the doors of my house to meet me when I return in peace from the sons of Ammon, it shall be the Lord’s, and I will offer it up as a burnt offering.” The text follows that the Lord gave the Ammonites into Jephthah’s hand, and he returned home. Ironically, the first thing to come through Jephthah’s door was his daughter, his only child. He tore his clothes grieving that “I have given my word to the Lord, and I cannot take it back.” His daughter, seemingly wise and calm beyond her years or circumstance, replied in the affirmative, saying “My father, you have given your word to the Lord; do to me as you have said, since the Lord has avenged you of your enemies, the sons of Ammon.” She asked only for two months to “bewail her virginity” upon the mountains, after which Jephthah “did to her according to the vow which he had made.”

(Judges 11)

In this instance I’d like to again point out the origin of the promise. This time it was Jephthah who proposed the covenant to God and constructed the agreements for both sides.

My point is two-fold: first, that God seems to be very interested in promises being kept. In His dealings with Abraham, He initiated a covenant between the two, one that required His direct influence in keeping by making Sarah fertile to bear Isaac. When Abraham was commanded to offer Isaac on the altar, he knew that if Isaac died, his line would die with him, nullifying God’s promise of descendents. The test was certainly one of faith, but more so the faith of God’s word. In Jephthah’s case, he, a man, made a deal with God on Man’s terms with Man’s foresight. Both parties kept their ends of the deal, but Jephthah’s honor came a much higher price.

To put it more clearly, while God is interested in keeping vows and promises, these stories seem to be here for the purpose of showing us whose promises are worth keeping. Or better, who should be deciding the terms of an agreement between the Divine and Man. Abraham and his descendents are a picture of a kept promise on God’s terms. Jephthah’s misery is the folly of Man striking up his own deal with God.

The second point I’d like to discuss briefly relates more to the story of Mesha. As I said earlier, the gravity of a child sacrificed seems to the overwhelming theme. While I still hold firmly to that, I don’t think that the idea can be fully appreciated without a look towards Christ, and mention of my previous point concerning promises. Taking the Old Testament’s prophets as God’s promise to Man for a Savior, we have a union of the weightiness of child sacrifice with the perfection of God’s vow. There is no doubt that the offering of a child is a powerful thing, as demonstrated by Mesha. At the same time, God has proven that not only will he keep his word, but that his word kept will result in unimaginable good.


I’d like to end with Solomon’s thoughts on vows from Ecclesiastes:

Do not be hasty in word or impulsive in thought to bring up a matter in the presence of God. For God is in heaven and you are on the earth; therefore let your words be few. For the dream comes through much effort, and the voice of a fool through many words. When you make a vow to God, do not be late in paying it, for He takes no delight in fools. Pay what you vow! It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not pay.

Ecclesiastes 5:2-5

Friday, March 30, 2007

Just What the Doctor Rx'ed


For all it's disjointedness, I can't stop listening to "The Sons of Cain" from the new Ted Leo and the Pharmacists record Living with the Living. Check it out here, or here if you don't myspace (and you shouldn't). If you're not familiar with the Hype Machine site, just click on Listen after the first song and a flash music player will launch with all the Ted Leo songs. "Cain" is the tenth track or so.

Damien Jurado put on a great little show last night, girl singer/cellist and all.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Project Reading

"One ordinary way of avoiding the conservation doctrine is by suggesting a watch-watchmaker analogy: God's relation to the universe is like that of a watchmaker to a watch he builds, winds up, and puts aside to let it run "on its own." He need not constantly manipulate the gears to keep the correct time; instead, a mark of being a good watchmaker is that the watch is fully functional on its own.

This analogy is defective to the core. What allows the watchmaker to make a watch that works without his continued involvement in its operation is the structure of the universe the watchmaker uses to his advantage in order to secure the continued operation of the watch. The watchmaker relies on the physical constituents of the universe and the physical laws governing bodies, including the watch he is making, to keep the watch working when the watchmaker ceases his activity. In the case of the relation between God and creation, there is no third thing, the structure of which God can exploit in order to secure the continued operation of the universe, should God's activity cease. Because, in Christian theology, God is the creator of all that is distinct from God, any explanation of the continued operation of the universe must appeal to either God or the universe itself, and nothing like this is present in the watch-watchmaker case." ~Jonathan Kvanig, "The Problem of Hell"

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Utah!


Mas fotos up at flickr from the recent canyoneering carnival in Utah. I'm told that these pictures are being reviewed for inclusion with an article to be submitted to Backpacker and National Geographic Traveler magazines. I'm thinking about submitting the photos by themselves to some other publications. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them. Comment here or on the pictures themselves, thanks much.

Vote for Vanity

Monday, March 19, 2007

Vote For Vanity

My good friends Joel and Amber Nass have created a great little music video for a competition put on by Epic Records. As I understand it the winner gets a record deal with Epic, and I for one am all about facilitating Joel's music. The winner is decided by a stage process, with entrants advancing by winning the most votes in a given week. Joel and Amber have picked this week from March 19th through Sunday the 25th, during which everyone can vote once a day.

You can see the video and vote here, and I would encourage you to do so. I'm also told that one may double one's vote by casting an additional ballot via text message on cellular phones by texting Vael to NATION (628466). Not having a cell phone, I don't know what that means, but if you do, do it.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Mars!



I'm off to Utah for a week of canyoneering adventures. See you soon!

Friday, March 09, 2007

The Humanity

In his series on Islam, Doug Wilson has been repeating the idea that a group of people will tend to become like whatever god they worship. Since Allah is a god of raw power and cosmic bullying, his people act the same way in whatever capacity they can get away with it, be it in their marriages or chest-bombs. Since Yahweh is Love, His people should be more and more defined by relational examples of agape.

Should that be the case, what are the implications of this?

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

A Problem, Resolved

Once again I found myself sitting in Education 302, this week seeking the deeper ways of the Universe through "Student Assessment Methods." As we were told of yet another presentation to be delivered by each of us on the same topic, my fight or flight instincts pressed against my soul with more urgency than ever. I was just about to pick up and bolt when we lighted upon the assessment method of Testing.

"What," the question was posed to us, "should you do if your test gets either all A's or all F's?" One of the great quandaries of all time, no doubt responsible for the division of families and fall of nations. We all leaned in, eagerly awaiting the spurt from the fount of wisdom.

"Well," (trumpets blare), "you have to be able to adjustify your testing."

How could I leave this class? It's too good...

Sunday, March 04, 2007

Old Hat


Just got ahold of some pictures I took this summer and posted a few on zie flickr.

Saturday, March 03, 2007

The U.S. vs John Lennon Was Maybe Worth My $2

Two things of note: In an earlier video interview with all of the Beatles during the immediate wake of the "bigger than Jesus" incident, John was asked about his political ideals. As he started to respond, both Paul and Ringo tried to nervously interject a small joke at the same time, then both took on a feeling of unease as John answered the question. It seemed that even early on there was a tension surrounding John's mouthiness about these things.

Secondly, I rarely find any humor relating to weed or being stoned to be the least bit funny. It's nothing pious, I'm not "above" it, wanting to laugh but reluctantly restrained by the Spirit. It just ain't funny. All that to say, I found a weed-related scene of this movie exspecially hilarious. John Sinclair, who was imprisoned for selling joints to an undercover cop, garnered a huge "Free John Sinclair" concert, championed by all those filthy and lit. John and Yoko made an appearance as well. In Sinclair's interview, he appeared to have changed little in spirit since the 70s, and mentioned that one of the first things they did when he got out was to "proselytize for the legalization of weed....while smoking enormous amounts of it at the same time....which I suppose wasn't the best combination....you should really just do one or the other if you want to really succeed in either..."

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Senior Surveys

The spirit of survey-taking fell upon me mightily last night and I cranked through three or four asking about my University experience. Here are two of my favorite questions:

  • How often (on a scale of 1-6) have you had serious conversations with students of a different race or ethnicity than your own?
  • Where do you go, most often, to purchase the necessities for your costume needs?

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Overheard on the Amtrak, Between Grand Junction and Denver

The train ride through Colorado was pretty impressive, with about half the time spent in and out of tunnels winding through a snowy canyon. Postcard stuff. These words came from the two 13-14 year old kids behind me were traveling East to visit their incarcerated brother:

"That tree looks hella good."

"Hm?"

"That tree looks hella good with that snow on it."

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Students Are Never Wrong

Today in my Education class we talked about classroom management. As my attention waned in and out, I heard my teacher mention the possibility of a student suffering from “Authority Opposition Disorder.” I filed that away and Wikied it when I got home, finding an article on “Oppositional Defiance Disorder.” In order to be “diagnosed” with ODD, a child must exhibit four of the following traits on a near-daily basis:

  • Losing temper
  • Arguing with adults
  • Refusing to follow the rules
  • Deliberately annoying people
  • Blaming others
  • Easily annoyed
  • Angry and resentful
  • Spiteful or even revengeful

The article goes on in an expectable direction, proposing scientific sounding treatments for this clinical ailment. What I found funnier was the fact that there’s no mention of this occurring in adults. It’s not even mentioned that this is commonly found in children, it’s just assumed, because of course we’re not dealing with a real disorder. We’re dealing with children and how they are. If a 34 year old man started showing these signs, we’d think he was either psychotic or a rock star.


While looking this up, I also ran across an article on Drapetomania, which proved that this passing of the blame onto science for our own idiocy and faults is nothing new. Drapetomania was the psychiatric diagnosis explaining why African slaves in the South wanted to flee their masters. Dr. Samuel Cartwright proposed medical treatment for slaves who were “sulky and dissatisfied without cause,” in the form of “whipping the devil out of them,” as a preventative precaution.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Can You Believe the News Today?


It would indeed be a Bloody Sunday if this were going on at All Souls.

Pinkerton

I wrote this paper for my Ethnic & Minority Lit class last semester, and my lack of preparation shows right down to the last sentence. It was a fun idea, but I don't think I pulled it off. Nevertheless, if you enjoy Weezer's Pinkerton, you may get a kick out of it. This is the first in my series of embarrasingly bad papers from the Fall of 2006. Enjoy.

My goal here is to look at both M. Butterfly and Weezer’s Pinkerton as responses to and interpretations of the Italian opera Madama Butterly. Rivers Cuomo will represent the American take on the story while David Hwang will represent the East, although some of my research has led me to doubt Hwang’s legitimacy as a legitimate commentator on Asian culture. According to an interview at MIT, he was never really connected with Chinese culture, just has the physical traits of an Asian. Where Hwang is always writing about “Asian-American culture” and never Asian culture itself, Cuomo has picked a myriad of emotions and subjects in his discography.

The plot of Madame Butterfly when summed up follows: While stationed at Nagasaki in Japan Lieutenant Pinkerton marries Cio-Cio-San, a 15-year-old geisha. To show her faith to Pinkerton, she has renounced all relations with her family. Three years and one child later, his tour of duty is over and he is back stateside, leaving Cio-Cio with the promise to return “when the robin makes its nest.” Sharpless is dispatched by Pinkerton to tell her he has married an American woman, but she doesn’t seem to comprehend the letter, overjoyed at having received something from him. Pinkerton does end up coming back with his wife, and leaves the job to her to tell Cio-Cio of his new marriage. Cio-Cio kills herself with her father’s sword, leaving the child to the newly married couple.

Much in the same way while reading M. Butterfly and knowing the story of the opera one will want to point out where Hwang “failed” to accurately represent the original story, so we’ll see the same thing between Pinkerton and the opera. I don’t think that we can fairly accuse either of them for being wrong, since they were not attempting to recreate the original story, but instead were inspired by it and implemented aspects of it into their respective works. Interestingly, both Pinkerton and M. Butterfly are considered by most to be the best of both of their careers. Rivers certainly added to the operatic story, largely taking it upon his creativity and personal feelings at the time to suppose what was going on in Pinkerton’s head. It’s also important to note that this was a painfully personal album for him, while Hwang seemed to have little of himself invested in M. Butterfly, his take on the story coming across as more flippant and light-hearted.

In keeping with the tradition of surrounding a band’s follow up album in suspense, mystery, and time, Pinkerton was written and recorded over three years. Rivers started work on the album in 1993 before Weezer’s debut actually hit the shelves. He began recording demos for what he intended to call Songs From the Black Hole, which was to be a rock opera set in space. Rivers was drawing from such concept albums as Smile and Pet Sounds at the time for inspiration. While at his first semester at Harvard, he saw the opera Madama Butterfly, in which he saw many of his attributes laid out on the stage. As he continued recording and writing for SFTBH, he began working around a narrative of the opera. Part of what was to distinguish SFTBH as a unique creation was that it was to be recorded as one single cohesive piece of music, and more importantly for our discussion here, it was to be told from multiple perspectives. As the band recorded, they began laying tracks down individually for the sake of getting the material down. Cuomo’s idea for the rock opera faded, and many of the songs were to eventually become what we have today as Pinkerton.

As artists Cuomo and Hwang seem to have been star-crossed by their interests and ethnicities. Hwang, born in the US to Chinese parents, had little connection with Asian culture and admitted that most of his association with China came from his physical traits. Cuomo, who could easily be the world representative for whiteness, has always held a notable fascination of the East. He seemed a bit predestined for such things, being brought up on Hindu ashram in Yogaville, CT.




1. Tired of Sex

Musically speaking I think this is one of the most compelling opening album tracks in the past decade. Before I’d even known about Cuomo’s attraction to the East, I always felt that this song, especially the opening beat and riff, had a distinctly mystical, Oriental feel. Lyrically, we’re dropped right into Pinkerton/Cuomo’s frustration with a promiscuous, but vacuous lifestyle. The John Long Pinkerton was described early on in the story by a shipmate as “hard to comfort – humanely speaking.” This suggests that Pinkerton has a rather hearty appetite for physical pleasures, as does Cuomo in this opening track. He seems to be dealing with it in like manner as Pinkerton as well, unhappy and a bit confused with himself and his dissatisfactions. By the end of the song he’s down on his knees pleading for “true love” to come true for him.

In Hwang’s reproduction of this scene portrays Pinkerton as a ridiculous penny pincher, who lumps the money he paid for Cio-Cio-San in with the low price he paid for his carriage ride into town as a “bargain.”

2. Getchoo

This second track is hard to make sense of in light of the first, until we remember the multiple perspectives slant that Rivers began this album with. Instead of reading this as coming from Pinkerton’s view, it makes much more sense for it to be Cio-Cio-San’s thoughts. As she realizes that Pinkerton’s interest in her is serious, she begins to distance herself from her Japanese culture and cleave to her American husband and way of life. To consummate this, she has renounced the faith of her ancestors and in doing so abandoned any hope of returning to that life. In Long’s version, Pinkerton first tells her of the Christian faith which strikes a chord in her. She goes to the Christian missionary church where she becomes particularly interested in the fact that she could accept this faith at any time and any place. She leaves with Christianity in her back pocket, as a reserve in case she can never return to her family.

The second verse can be seen as a cry to Pinkerton, first trying to elicit pity, then swaying back into a joking air of just “fooling around.” This characterizes Cio-Cio’s frequent near maniacal tendencies throughout the original Madame Butterfly

In the last stanza of the song, Cio-Cio can’t believe what Pinkerton’s done to her. She’s been knocked up and abandoned by the man she thought loved her. The irony of the situation is expressed in the lines “What I did to them, you’ve done to me,” since she basically used her family for her enjoyment until they were no longer useful, then left them. Pinkerton did the same thing, using her for his own satisfaction then sailing back to the States.

Hwang deals with the description of Cio-Cio-San’s attachment to Pinkerton briefly in two spots. First is the conversation between himself and Sharpless, where Pinkerton comes across as an ignorant but scheming cad, already prepared to leave her the first chance he has. Hwang tells us that Pinkerton bought her for about sixty cents. The second dealing with this scene comes a few pages later with Suzuki telling Cio-Cio quite bluntly what a deadbeat Pinkerton is. Hwang even goes so far as to portray the scene in which Cio-Cio tells Sharpless that she will kill herself in a humorous way, with the last line being Sharpless’s “I hate this job,” as he scurries away from the distressed woman.

3. No Other One

The first line of this track certainly throws a wrench into the gears of this album accurately representing the original story. Not only can I find no evidence of this from the Madame Butterfly story, but even within the album here I see no other references to a lack of integrity. Though it may be a cop out, I think we may just have to chalk this up to the possibility that Rivers had something going on in his head that we aren’t privy to. As a plot device, it can certainly be used to justify Pinkerton leaving her, but being one that has no backing, it’s also pretty weak. The lines “She’s all I’ve got, and I don’t wanna be alone” are reminiscent of Hwang’s description of Gallimard as having never been too popular with the ladies in the past. Given that history, he’s quick to latch onto Song and the repetition of “And I don’t wanna be alone” makes us think that perhaps his attraction has something to do with an insecurity of losing this one shot at love.

The chorus, with its sweeping statement of “No there is no other one,” effectively foreshadows “another one” in his American wife Kate. The end of the chorus has always been amusing to me, because right in the middle of saying there couldn’t be anyone else, he adds “Though I would, now I never could with one.” Basically saying, I could get another girl now, but alas, I’m stuck with this one. The last line of the song is quite telling of how Pinkerton and Cio-Cio-San may have been feeling with “We’re all we’ve got and we don’t wanna be alone.” Pinkerton is away from his home and country, and probably feels that all he can hold onto is this love. Cio-Cio-San has gone a step further and severed her ties with her family to show her allegiance to Pinkerton, so he’s really all she’s got left.

4. Why Bother?

On first listen, it’s possible to hear this song as another narrative told from two perspectives, the first half coming from Cio-Cio-San, and the second from Pinkerton. What convinced me otherwise was the line in the first verse “But it’s just sexual attraction,” which Pinkerton has definitely shown more of in the time they’ve known each other. So if we assume this is another tale from Pinkerton, it seems that he’s grown a bit jaded about the whole relationship. I would even go so far as to say that this is the point where he decides that he will abandon Cio-Cio

In this section, Cuomo and Hwang are more on the same page in their dealing with the original story. Both treat Pinkerton’s abandonment with an upbeat air (relatively speaking of weezer), and the brevity of both accounts very accurately mirrors how quickly the decision and action took place in the opera.

5. Across the Sea

Probably the most personal song Cuomo ever released, Across the Sea can often veer furthest from the Madame Butterfly story. He starts off addressing an 18 year-old girl who lives in Japan. So far this works with the original story right down to the age of Cio-Cio, who was fifteen when she wed Pinkerton and much of the story takes place three years after he leaves, placing her at 18. Cuomo has admitted that this song was inspired by a fan letter he received from a Japanese girl, but I have no problem with this song being much like Tired of Sex in that it is a blending of his own life with the Madame Butterfly narrative.

In the chorus he’s lamenting her distance from him, even blaming her for being absent when he needs help. This is definitely a unique take on Pinkerton’s character if we choose to read it as such. Back in the States and away from Cio-Cio he realizes how much he needs her, but in line with his character, he shifts the blame from himself to her. At the start of the second verse in which he admires her stationary as “so fragile, so refined,” we have another moment where Cuomo and Hwang seem to be saying something similar. Here they’re sharing the Westerner’s view of the Eastern woman, as something that she may not necessarily be. Rivers has often remarked on how humiliated he was at having released this song, especially for the last line of the verse in which he wonders about what this girl wears, what her room looks like, and how she touches herself. I can’t say I blame him for being mortified at this, but it certainly demonstrates how closely connected he was with this album.

The bridge begins with another even straight from Cuomo’s own life, in which he shaved his head to join a Buddhist monastery, thinking that was the way to score the chicks. Musically, the bridge continue to increase in speed and build in intensity, both instrumentally and vocally, until Cuomo is belting out in falsetto “oh, how I need a hand in mine to feel! Why are you so far away from me?” This track, while it contains some connections to the opera, serves largely to demonstrate Cuomo’s deeply personal involvement with the album.

6. The Good Life

The Good Life marks the beginning of a series of ups and downs for our character. The next four tracks seesaw between him living it up with girls and parties, and realizing the good he has in Cio-Cio and a stable life. The latter of the two is actually characterized more by regretting what he’s done in the former. I found little to work with in this song, as it sounds a bit more like a lyric than a narrative. The chorus seems to be the most telling of his current mindset, where he feels he’s been cooped up too long, it’s time to get back out there where the action is. “I don’t wanna be an old man anymore,” suggests that he’s looking back at his stint in Japan as foolishness.

7. El Scorcho

Cuomo/Pinkerton has realized the error of his Good Life ways, even though he opens by cursing the girls who have “wronged” him. In the second verse we find the only other direct reference other than the title to the opera with the line “listening to Cio-Cio-San fall in love all over again.” During the bridge Cuomo admits his releasing of angst as musical material with “How stupid is it? I can’t talk about it, I gotta sing about it, and make a record of my heart.” His reaction to the grief he feels is to sing, and to record that singing. Hwang, if he felt anything at all about the subject matter in M. Butterfly, also chose an artistic outlet to tap into.

8. Pink Triangle

On the surface this track provides a bit comic relief as the speaker finds that he’s been attracted to a girl who turns out to be a lesbian. I found it strange that Rivers had chosen to write about sexual confusion as did Hwang and it had me wondering whether or not he’d read M. Butterfly. In the first verse he admits that “when I start to feel that pull, turns out I just pulled myself,” admitting that he’s leading himself on in some situations, putting himself in a state of desiring what he can’t have. This makes sense given the past few songs that have seen him in a cycle of licentiousness and regret. One of the most interesting points in the album/play comparison came in the chorus in this song, where the “Pink Triangle on her sleeve let me know the truth,” the truth being that he’s in love with a lesbian. A bit of research into the “Pink Triangle” yielded some interesting results. According to Wikipedia, the Pink Triangle was part of the Nazi on-body documentation of their prisoners which represented a male homosexual. Following a link over to the “Black Triangle” informed me that it was taken up as the sign of the lesbian inmates, as it was originally used to denote the “asocial.” This put a whole new spin on Cuomo’s intention with this song. I can’t help but think that it’s possibly a nod to Hwang, seeing as how Cuomo’s “lesbian” in this song may actually be a gay man, just like in M. Butterfly.

9. Falling For You

I feel that this track might be the best use of musical elements to convey a message on the entire album. Thus far, we’ve been exposed to a very dark, thick sound, but here we really get a taste of something chaotic, out of control almost. The music in this track does much more to carry the theme than do the lyrics, although there are spots here and there that help to keep us connected with the story. He admits to having a number of irrational fears that have kept him at a distance. One of these is having broken the rule about “old goats like me hangin’ round with chicks like you.” His language, while never Oriental or mystical sounding, has much more of an American ring to it here.

As guitars squeal and squawk into “I’m ready let’s do it baby,” I can’t help but feel that this decision is being made out of spur of the moment enthusiasm and passion of the moment. Which, as we’ve seen throughout the album, only results in regret and sorrow. This being the wildest, most passionate of the bunch, we’re left thinking that this may be the last great hurrah.


10. Butterfly

Our hero sounds weak and defeated in this closing track. “Every time I pin down what I think I want it slips away” admits his roller coaster emotions over the course of the album. We see a few more references to Madame Butterfly, in the title, and at the end as he admits that he’d promised to return “when the robin makes his nest,” which he knows he can never do. When he says “I guess you’re as real as me, maybe I can live with that, maybe I need fantasy, life of chasing Butterfly,” we see that though he’s lost the fieriness of his earlier moments, he’s still confused about what he needs, and even the legitimacy of Cio-Cio as a real person.

When Song reveals himself to Gallimard, G says “I’m a man who loved a woman created by a man,” he sounds as if he’s commenting on the original opera and its many spin-offs since; Madama Butterfly is an Italian opera based on an American story about the Japanese, which has been interpreted by the Chinese with Hwang and Americans with Weezer. Culturally, this story has been all over the map. Rivers has much more lamentful, one might say Jewish reaction to this story than does Hwang. Both Hwang and Cuomo seemed to have come from an Asian culture that was much less theirs than it was their parents’. Hwang’s manifested itself in his physical appearance but was absent in his actual life. Rivers has always been white as white can be, but possessed a deep interest in Asian life. His July 2006 marriage to Kyoko Ito was even more proof of this.