ipsa loquitur

José Hernández, Martín Fierro

2011-12-28T13:33:00.001-08:00

Barbarism? No.
Wit and wisdom saturate
This sad gaucho’s song.

Duque de Rivas's Don Álvaro o la fuerza del sino

2011-10-10T18:38:00.001-07:00

No elopement here:
Destiny forecloses love.
Everybody dies.

Valle-Inclán’s Divinas palabras

2011-10-10T16:55:00.001-07:00

Decadent vignettes
Escalate in vile display;
Latin words assuage.

reading as production

2011-09-17T17:19:00.000-07:00

School hasn't even started, and I already have homework. Alas alack.

But it does mean that I occasionally run into some gems. I enjoyed this paragraph from The Practice of Everyday Life by Michel de Certeau:

[T]he activity of reading has...all the characteristics of a silent production: the drift across the page, the metamorphosis of the text effected by the wandering eyes of the reader, the improvisation and expectation of meanings inferred from a few words, leaps over written spaces in an ephemeral dance. But since he is incapable of stockpiling (unless he writes or records), the reader cannot protect himself against the erosion of time (while reading, he forgets himself and he forgets what he has read) unless he buys the object (book, image) which is no more than a substitute (the spoor or promise) of moments "lost" in reading. He insinuates into another person's text the ruses of pleasure and appropriation: he poaches on it, is transported into it, pluralizes himself in it like the internal rumblings of one's body. Ruse, metaphor, arrangement, this production is also an "invention" of the memory. Words become the outlet or product of silent histories. The readable transforms itself into the memorable: Barthes reads Proust in Stendhal's text; the viewer reads the landscape of his childhood in the evening news. The thin film of writing becomes a movement of strata, a play of spaces. A different world (the reader's) slips into the author's place.

summer reading group: haiku version

2011-09-14T10:25:00.000-07:00

Novels:

generally
Realist novels
Summarized in five short words:
Chase "true love" and die.

San Manuel Bueno, mártir (Unamuno)
Most say he's a saint;
Angela reveals his doubts.
Is she trustworthy?

Doña Perfecta (Pérez Galdós)
Pepe falls in love.
He's a skeptic! Mom objects.
He dies; she goes mad.

Los pasos de Ulloa (Pardo Bazán)
Naive priest's mistakes
Ruin life for saintly girl.
Incest might result.

The sad truth...

2011-06-29T17:53:00.001-07:00

...is that school ended on June 10, and papers still aren't done.

Extensions were requested (and granted). Other things were attended to, including attending the American Immigration Lawyers Association conference and the Resolved conference. Money was earned. Facebook was reactivated. Tahoe registration was drafted. And the bigger, uglier, gnarlier of the papers was completed.

So now the tally is two down, one to go. But it still feels like life is on hold...

We will return to our regular programming...

2011-06-05T14:59:00.001-07:00

...as soon as final papers are finished (or sooner, depending on procrastination levels; so far, though, except for waxing my car, my procrastinatory activities have had a decidedly domestic bent). Until then, check out today's sermon from Hebrews, which made me really excited about the fitting-together-ness of the historical salvation trajectory:

Hebrews 4:1-11

recommendation

2011-05-25T09:11:00.001-07:00

This soup is my new favorite food:

Vegan Red Lentil Soup

I haven't tried it yet with fenugreek and ginger. And I did sub olive oil for peanut oil. Oh, and left out the nutmeg. And used maybe 1 tsp. of chili powder in place of the cayenne. But, other than that, this is the recipe.

my first Apple product

2011-05-23T12:00:00.000-07:00

My parents just gave me an iPod nano for my birthday.

Pamela says that I am still about 10 years behind the times. I think it might actually be more, because I remember as a kid wanting a Walkman when they were still using cassette tapes (never got one---didn't get one with CDs, either).

So much for getting my homework finished today . . .

This site is not bad.

2011-05-21T21:54:00.000-07:00

I just linked over to this Anglo-EU Translation Guide from the Language Log.

Now I think I'm British.

observation

2011-05-21T14:29:00.000-07:00

Certain family members have opined that my post about Spanish Lit may not be tasteful.

I agree.

That's kind of what I have against Spanish literature at this juncture in my life.

intro to Spanish Lit

2011-05-20T09:58:00.001-07:00

Life just isn't fun
Until you've seduced a nun.
(After that, it gets worse.)

not disappointed

2011-05-19T09:33:00.000-07:00

Yeats may not be disappointing me, after all:

We who write, we who bear witness, must often hear our hearts cry out against us, complaining because of their hidden things, and I know not but he who speaks of wisdom may sometimes, in the change that is coming upon the world, have to fear the anger of the people of Faery, whose country is the heart of the world --- 'The Land of the Living Heart.'

Who can keep always to the little pathways between speech and silence, where one meets none but discreet revelations?

And surely, at whatever risk, we must cry out that imagination is always seeking to remake the world according to the impulses and the patterns in that Great Mind, and that Great Memory. Can there be anything so important as to cry out that what we call romance, poetry, intellectual beauty, is the only signal that the supreme Enchanter, or some one in His councils, is speaking of what has been, and shall be again, in the consummation of time?

W.B. Yeats, "Magic" (1901) [paragraph breaks mine]

Kinda spooky-sounding, but interesting, and likely a grain of truth in it.

carried

2011-05-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

Next Wednesday in Subjects of Revolt I'm presenting W.B. Yeats's essay "Magic."

When I saw the essay listed in the syllabus, I thought "magic!" and thought only happy thoughts, about Spring and Lewis or Chesterton or Aslan or Gandalf (or Merlin in That Hideous Strength).

So when I opened up the book and started reading about Yeats and a handful of other curious Englishpeople in a seance, I felt duly chastised for forgetting that mine was the minority perspective.

That said, I am having a horrible time being analytical while reading Yeats, because I keep getting carried away by the cadence of his writing.

"If all who have described events like this have not dreamed, we should rewrite our histories . . ."

"Our souls that were once naked to the winds of heaven are now thickly clad . . ."

"I must commit what merchandise of wisdom I have to this ship of written speech . . ."

Pretty writing is my Achilles' heel.

degenerate

2011-05-17T12:08:00.000-07:00

Okay, so it didn't take long for the random Wikipedia-gleaning to start.

First, the boredom article had this picture:

It looked like something with a fairytale behind it, so, naturally, I had to check it out.

I haven't found a full-text that I like yet, but here's the synopsis from Wikipedia: The Princess Who Never Smiled.

I'm curious about the part where the honest worker got turned into a handsome man. Was it just that he needed cleaning up, or was it like miraculous, or what? And how are things going to work for the rest of the marriage?

I hope he was able to keep it up, because he seemed like a nice guy.

Dickens and l'ennui

2011-05-17T11:58:00.000-07:00

Haven't learned something new yet today?

Here's another chance.

Boredom is an emotional state experienced during periods lacking activity or when individuals are uninterested in their surroundings. The first recorded use of the word boredom is in the novel Bleak House by Charles Dickens, written in 1852,^[1] in which it appears six times, although the expression to be a bore had been used in the sense of "to be tiresome or dull" since 1768.^[2]

I wonder who was bored. My vote's on Richard.

(And this is important research for my term paper in Subjects of Revolt. Not just random Wikipedia gleanings from the lunch hour. At least, not yet . . .)

Hebrews 3 and the needle of the compass

2011-05-17T10:57:00.000-07:00

Just caught up on the sermon I missed at Sovereign Grace on Sunday.

It was timely, because I've noticed my compass needle spinning around lately, and I spent Saturday night and Sunday morning kicking myself for being a failure.

I'd forgotten that the answer was so simple:

Consider Jesus

detox

2011-05-16T15:19:00.000-07:00

School is getting me down. I think I need to read this . . . and soon . . .

The Politically Incorrect Guide to Western Civilization

This is pretty funny.

2011-05-16T10:42:00.000-07:00

A man's burden: Apologizing for being offended

What do you do if . . .

2011-05-14T10:03:00.001-07:00

. . . your hairdresser, who's of childbearing age, appears to be larger-than-normal around the middle and wearing what looks to be a maternity top. She also mentions that she isn't drinking alcohol and is sensitive to certain foods. Do you say something like "when's the baby coming?" or "congratulations!" or "are you pregnant?" Or do you just not say anything?

. . . the book you have to read for Monday's class gives you a headache. It's something about the way the text is laid out. You read it and you feel nauseated, dizzy, and want to cry. It doesn't exist as an audiobook. And you don't have time this weekend to get fitted for glasses.

Inside, I'm going on eight, not twenty-eight.

2011-05-13T16:41:00.000-07:00

The county's been doing some serious work on our street lately. Something to do with sewer and water lines (and massive tree removal).

I'm not sure why (it could be because our house is in the middle of the block), but our house seems to be the central parking station for any kind of equipment or materials that the county is using. That's meant, depending on the phase of the project, giant green pipes, humongous square concrete things, humongous round concrete things, gravel, asphalt, and tractors. This morning it meant a yawning chasm about ten feet deep between the sidewalk and the street (over which, for the record, I performed my most impressive driving maneuver to date [although Jamie can also attest to my incredible parallel parking skills, in case anyone is wondering]).

Yesterday I got home from school and saw this really big tractor in front of the house and knew that I had to get my picture with it.

At first, Natty was the only person with the same idea (our original agreement was to go out and take pictures of each other). But eventually other members of the family decided to participate.

(And, yes, true to my legal roots, as we were climbing all over the thing I was thinking "torts hypo . . . torts hypo . . .")

you said it

2011-05-11T21:03:00.000-07:00

The problem with having to finish a book called La vida breve* (the short life) is that I keep thinking that I need to read the book, thinking "yes, I agree; life is short---so why am I reading this???" and doing something else.

Two hundred pages to go before tomorrow . . .

_________
* The [very-poorly-translated] Amazon summary says that Brausen's wife was crippled by a complicated surgery. She wasn't. Instead, she appears to have had breast cancer and a mastectomy. This is enough for her husband to decide he's just no longer that into her and start carrying on with the girl next door. I think that now, halfway through the book, he's thinking about killing somebody (not his wife; he's been thinking about killing her for about a hundred pages longer). He's also becoming more and more involved in a story he's writing about an adulterous affair between a woman and the family doctor who helps her and her husband out with their prescription-drug-abuse habit. Oh, and he's mulling whether checking out his wife's younger sister may be a good idea. A real winner. So, yeah.

tsunami saves thousands from eHarmony subscription fees

2011-05-10T16:24:00.000-07:00

I realize that in posting this I'm seriously reducing my chances of getting a date for the next funeral.

But I'm going to take that risk.

CNN: Disasters prompt life-changing decisions

I think that what the relationship expert in the video says is true.

And if it isn't, Hollywood sure has spent a long time barking up the wrong tree.

I miss the old Firefox.

2011-05-10T10:25:00.001-07:00

Gospel, school, disillusionment, and the floor

2011-05-10T07:48:00.000-07:00

Close to the beginning of the year, I started to think about the contrast between the vortex of postmodernism/deconstructionism (where one can keep on deconstructing infinitely, as far as I know), and the "floor" of absolute truth—specifically the truth of the Gospel.

Well, in class yesterday I learned that there is a whole branch of theory where scholars/philosophers/whatever-they-are argue about whether there's a floor or not.

I find this simultaneously encouraging and discouraging. Encouraging, because I'm glad to know that the question is being examined (and also kinda gratified that I picked up on the term "floor" before I knew it was the term other people were using...stupid academic pride). Discouraging because it means that there's more stuff out there for me to read.

But (and here's the Lewis in me), I do have to wonder why are we all looking for the floor? Why did Jorge Luis Borges say, in "The Library of Babel"

Let heaven exist, though my own place may be in hell. Let me be tortured and battered and annihilated, but let there be one instant, one creature, wherein thy enormous Library may find its justification.

I want that. Other people I know want that. Apparently other people I don't know want that, too.

What makes us want that?

A bad arrangement is better than a process (and other wise words).

2011-05-09T08:35:00.000-07:00

For anybody who feels inept in one or more languages, these selections from the Portuguese-English phrasebook English As She Is Spoke should make you feel a little better by comparison:

Excerpts from an ineptly written Portuguese-to-English phrasebook

the chickens have it

2011-05-06T15:04:00.000-07:00

This year (for the fifth[?] year now) I've been asked to give the "challenge to the graduates" at the senior banquet for my family's homeschool group. It's tonight.

Every year I poll people (whoever happens to be at hand) to ask what they would say to a group of high school grads. A lot of people say something positive like "congratulations!" or "good job!"

It's good for me to hear that perspective, because that never really occurred to me. I just figure that a challenge should be hard.

So just now I sat down to type out some notes for this year's challenge. Fishing for themes, I pulled up "confidence." And fishing for confidence on Google Images, I pulled up this gem:

LOL

Happy day.

2011-05-06T14:16:00.000-07:00

After a bout of worrying, a great number of phone calls, and a fair amount of math, the ability to make this announcement is making me pretty happy right now.

The joke is up.

2011-05-05T13:26:00.000-07:00

Not that this is something I need to be worrying about right now, but it just occurred to me that---even though I've been throwing the number around for a while---I don't think that I really DO want nine kids.

At least, not all in close succession.

Wait . . .

2011-05-04T20:03:00.000-07:00

Maybe Jane Austen doesn't help my case.

Women aren't really always that pathetic in literature?

Surely there are distance-crossing, invention-creating, trial-enduring, poetry-writing disappointed characters of female stripe?

Or maybe it's just that they're practical and not pathetic at all?

synopsis

2011-05-04T19:50:00.000-07:00

This quarter I feel like I keep reading the same story over and over again in different novels for each class. Here are the conclusions that can be drawn from these readings:

Losing a woman is a very inspiring thing for a man. He will cross unfathomable distances, create marvelous inventions, endure unspeakable trials, and write splendid poetry (but, if the story ends up making it to a novel, chances are he never finds her again).

Losing a man, on the other hand, can (1) reduce a woman to a miserable sobbing psychotic heap or (2) send her into a catatonic emotional state from which she will, martyr-like, choose either celibacy or an unhappy marriage to a rich man.

Pathetic.

I guess the world did need Jane Austen.

writing scripts for God

2011-05-04T12:20:00.000-07:00

Recently I've been thinking about my tendency to write scripts for God.

I don't think any of my scripts has ever played out.

Thankfully.

His stories are always better.

I was reflecting on and giving thanks for this yesterday, when I met up after school with a relatively-new-but-already-becoming-good friend from church. Over salad (hey, we're in the OC after all) we talked about lots of things, including how knowing Christ transforms your perspective and rearranges your priorities. At one point Kipsy shook my I've-known-Jesus-since-before-I-can-remember myopia with, "But Emily! I used to worship a monkey!"

Oh yeah. This transformation stuff is real.

That was what I needed to hear right then. And, as a special blessing on top of all the other things He is working out in both our lives, God brought Kipsy from India (and out of Hinduism) to say it.

I like this story.

new song

2011-05-02T13:58:00.000-07:00

Here's a new song from the weekend:

anticipatory homesickness

2011-05-02T09:40:00.001-07:00

One of my plans for the summer was to go abroad and study Spanish in total immersion.

But every time I try to do something about the plan, I get homesick and can't bear the thought of going away for a month.

Needless to say, my plans haven't been getting anywhere. Not sure what to think.

I need to start praying for a local immersion-like opportunity.

make us glad

2011-04-30T22:45:00.000-07:00

Psalm 90
A Prayer of Moses, theman of God.
¹Lord, you have been our dwelling place
in all generations.
²Before the mountains were brought forth,
or ever you had formed the earth and the world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
³You return man to dust
and say, "Return, O children of man!"
⁴For a thousand years in your sight
are but as yesterday when it is past,
or as a watch in the night.
⁵You sweep them away as with a flood; they are like a dream,
like grass that is renewed in the morning:
⁶in the morning it flourishes and is renewed;
in the evening it fades and withers.
⁷For we are brought to an end by your anger;
by your wrath we are dismayed.
⁸You have set our iniquities before you,
our secret sins in the light of your presence.
⁹For all our days pass away under your wrath;
we bring our years to an end like a sigh.
¹⁰The years of our life are seventy,
or even by reason of strength eighty;
yet their span is but toil and trouble;
they are soon gone, and we fly away.
¹¹Who considers the power of your anger,
and your wrath according to the fear of you?
¹² So teach us to number our days
that we may get a heart of wisdom.
¹³ Return, O LORD! How long?
Have pity on your servants!
¹⁴Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,
that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
¹⁵Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,
and for as many years as we have seen evil.
¹⁶Let your work be shown to your servants,
and your glorious power to their children.
¹⁷Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us,
and establish the work of our hands upon us;
yes, establish the work of our hands!

I feel pwetty.

2011-04-29T11:43:00.000-07:00

Lately I seem to be acquiring admirers and garnering compliments from the limited demographic of males aged 3-4 years.

Sometimes I wonder if this means that I'm five years behind in my life ("You seem like a mom," he said affectionately), or twenty-something years ahead.

Or maybe it's just a providential accident of life intended for the happiness of single women in their late twenties who like kids and know how to make Rice Crispy Treats.

At any rate, I'm not complaining.

Nice dress, Kate.

2011-04-29T10:16:00.001-07:00

I approve.

sangre vasca

2011-04-28T08:33:00.000-07:00

This week in our rebels class (it really is a class about rebels, Spanish rebels, specifically) we read El hombre solo and watched a documentary on "the Basque problem"---the Basque nationalist movement and its stormy relationship with ETA and terrorism.

The documentary included clips from this earlier documentary on the Basque country by Orson Welles:

My grandfather's grandmother was Basque.

So, yesterday, I was trying really hard to see if I could feel Basque at all. Not a whole lot---just a little---but at least one sixteenth.

I couldn't.

I wouldn't even know where to start.

It's a bummer, because Basques have such a unique genetic and linguistic history, that I really would like to feel at least a little Basque.

Maybe one day I can go to el pais vasco and find my lost genetic legacy. Maybe...

from Spenser to the Brain

2011-04-27T19:56:00.000-07:00

Whaddaya wanna do tonight?

The same thing we do every night, Pinky: try to take over the world.

I find this piece of the 90s somehow reassuring as I gear up for another night of trying to get through my assigned readings. I seem to be about as successful as these two. At least we're persistent.

(I don't know for sure if I ever really watched more than one episode of this show. But it's stuck anyway.)

then again

2011-04-26T21:44:00.001-07:00

Then again, in Spenser's account George wouldn't really have been able to slay the dragon without Una's help.

That does complicate things.

in which George's chivalry is vindicated

2011-04-26T21:11:00.000-07:00

During Spring Break, I ended up with Mark at a public library in Fresno. I think Mark looked at grown-up books. But I looked at this book: Saint George and the Dragon.

The book purported to tell the story of Saint George as told in Spenser's Faerie Queene, but it had a whole love story that I didn't remember reading about before.

I was kind of miffed to read the version in the picture book. The princess Una was obviously a noble lady and worthy of George's affection. BUT in the picture book George agrees to marry her even though he still owes six years of service to the Faerie Queene.

That didn't sound like him at all.

Of course the knight can marry the lady. But he needs to finish his contract first. Duh.

So the first thing I did when I got back to Orange County (even before I visited Fresh & Easy) was to go to the County library and get myself a copy of Spenser. Then school started and nothing happened. And then it was even St. George's Day and nothing happened.

But tonight, in between studying about Basque terrorists, I decided to throw my literary scruples to the wind and Google answers to my questions. I found this summary and this searchable text. And, between the two, I have vindicated George (and further complicated my thoughts on educating children, moving now from history to literature).

He and Una were betrothed, much to everyone's happiness:

Great ioy was made that day of young and old,
And solemne feast proclaimd throughout the land,
That their exceeding merth may not be told:
Suffice it heare by signes to vnderstand
The vsuall ioyes at knitting of loues band.
Thrise happy man the knight himselfe did hold,
Possessed of his Ladies hart and hand,
And euer, when his eye did her behold,
His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures manifold.

But, melty-hearted as he was, George said he'd have to postpone the wedding until he finished up his six years of service:

Her ioyous presence and sweet company
In full content he there did long enioy,
Ne wicked enuie, ne vile gealosy
His deare delights were able to annoy:
Yet swimming in that sea of blisfull ioy,
He nought forgot, how he whilome had sworne,
In case he could that monstrous beast destroy,
Vnto his Farie Queene backe to returne:
The which he shortly did, and Vna left to mourne.

I'm not heartless: I'm sad for George and Una. But a knight's got to do what a knight's got to do.

(P.S. I think that the connection made between Spenser's knight and Saint George [made explicitly in the text] is definitely political and not grounded in historical detail when it comes to things like this heavily allegorical betrothal [between England and the Church]. So my "George" here is the literary George, not one with any real pretense of historical veracity.)

Sorry, George.

2011-04-26T13:09:00.001-07:00

I just realized that I missed Saint George's day on the 23rd. I didn't even think about it. This, even though I have The Faerie Queene in one of the stacks on my floor, waiting to be read sometime, someday, so that I can make any necessary connections between George, Una, and the Redcrosse Knight. What is this world coming to...

(That's Una and the Red Cross Knight by George Frederic Watts.)

Rima VII

2011-04-26T08:10:00.000-07:00

My mom asked me to translate this poem by Bécquer. Here's the original:

Del salón en el ángulo oscuro,
de su dueño tal vez olvidada,

silenciosa y cubierta de polvo,

veíase el arpa.

¡Cuánta nota dormía en sus cuerdas

como el pájaro duerme en las ramas,

esperando la mano de nieve

que sabe arrancarlas!

¡Ay!--pensé--. ¡Cuántas veces el genio

así duerme en el fondo del alma,

y una voz, como Lázaro, espera

que le diga: "¡Levántate y anda!"

Here's an attempt at translation:

From the dark corner of the room,
Maybe forgotten by its owner,
Silent and covered by dust
Was seen the harp.

How many a note slept in its strings,
Like the bird sleeps in the branches,
Waiting for the snowy hand
That knows how to pluck them!

Oh!---I thought---How often talent
So sleeps in the bottom of the soul,
And a voice, like Lazarus, waits
To be told: "Get up and come forth!"

Ladies . . . fasten your fascinators.

2011-04-25T07:51:00.001-07:00

Just finished reading this (yeah, I know; I should start Monday morning working and not clicking around CNN.com for interesting stuff guaranteed never to be helpful in life):

Kate Middleton's "Fascinator" hats a hit in the U.S.

I don't have anything against Kate Middleton's style (that I know of; at least I know for sure that I like it better than Michelle Obama's, which always kind of confuses me). And I don't even really have anything against hats or ladies' decorative headwear in general.

But I just can't picture wearing anything called a "fascinator." That just seems really really weird. Read more about fascinators here, and don't neglect to note that a "substantial fascinator is a fascinator of some size or bulk."

(If anyone's wondering, I still wouldn't wear that thing to the right by any other name.)

"Jesus didn't do funerals."

2011-04-24T19:58:00.000-07:00

That line from Pastor Eric's sermon today was a highlight of an Easter Sunday spent with both my old and new church families.

He is risen.

He is risen indeed.

Easter 2011

2011-04-24T19:41:00.001-07:00

(I inherited the photo-inspired death grip from my grandma.)

sealed

2011-04-23T08:25:00.000-07:00

What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever;
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love for Thee.

al fine

2011-04-21T16:46:00.000-07:00

Tonight is No. 3's senior recital.

It is the kind of thing that you know is important while it is happening, but you can't completely grasp until later because (1) it's serious and sad, and takes time to digest; and (2) you are immediately more worried about how much dip to make for the reception (except for No. 3, who's immediately worried about the music).

And, speaking of "fine," yesterday in my rebels class I couldn't remember whether "fin" was masculine or feminine (I reverted sadly to grammatical androgyny and found excuses to use it both ways in one sentence). It didn't hit me until the commute home that every musician knows it's "D.C. al fine." Duh. I think it's time for me to either practice something or hand in my credentials as a musician.

At least I can make dip.

mind-bending

2011-04-21T10:34:00.001-07:00

Anybody looking for a mind-bending experience should consider reading Columbus's diaries in their "original" Spanish.

["Original" because we don't have the originals; we have a compilation by Fr. Bartolome de las Casas. Also "original" because Columbus didn't have the greatest command of the Spanish language to begin with.]

I really have no idea what I will be teaching my kids for history. And the longer I'm in graduate school before I have kids, the more confusing this experience is guaranteed to be for all of us.

Right now I'm comfortable with something along the lines of "Before you were born, good and bad things happened." But I'm going to have to find a way to get more specific. The deconstructionists can't totally win this battle.

then anew

2011-04-21T09:51:00.000-07:00

Here's another Easter song for Maundy Thursday. Philip Bliss, this time:

“Man of Sorrows!” what a name
For the Son of God, who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Guilty, vile, and helpless we;
Spotless Lamb of God was He;
“Full atonement!” can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Lifted up was He to die;
“It is finished!” was His cry;
Now in Heav’n exalted high.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

When He comes, our glorious King,
All His ransomed home to bring,
Then anew His song we’ll sing:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

this bitter sweetness

2011-04-20T07:50:00.000-07:00

This song is on my mind this Easter week,

along with this one:

Spaniards still make me sad.

2011-04-19T19:54:00.001-07:00

I just finished watching a documentary on Spanish anarchist Felipe Emilio Sandoval (active during the Spanish Civil War) for tomorrow's class on rebels.

Now I think I'm going to go cry. (Instead, I have to finish Luna de lobos, which was just getting tear-jerking in its own right. Maybe I can cry and finish the book at the same time.)

The story of Sandoval was sad, the war was sad, and listening to it narrated by a guy with a Spanish accent was sad.

It was so sad, I turned off the volume during the credits . . .

. . . only to better hear No. 3 on the other side of the bedroom wall, practicing Granados for her recital. That always makes me want to cry, even aside from civil wars or accents.

Spaniards. We won't even talk about Bécquer.

What makes Spaniards so sad and sadness-inducing?

infatuation, babies and bathwater

2011-04-19T13:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I find myself throwing out links to John Piper sermons like people used to throw out rice at weddings [before TV and Ann Landers taught us that rice was making small opportunistic birds swell up and explode and started blowing bubbles instead---obviously at the nefarious insistence of the failing soap and water industries {or I guess maybe it's people who make the little plastic bottles with the blowers attached to the lids}].

So, in my advanced forays into the frequent asking of "why?" (which I'm trying to do a lot lately, particularly about things I do), I'd been contemplating the pros and cons of this practice.

Last week, it led to insightful conversations with my mom and Pastor Eric (whose recent sermon on mediators came timely right in the middle of these wonderings).

And, today, I found it again in this article on "famous" pastors and hero worship:

A Not-Famous Pastor's Take on the Evangelical Hollywood

Good caution. Good thoughts.

(Thanks to Justin Taylor for the link.)

malaise

2011-04-18T13:38:00.000-07:00

The house is currently suffering from a case of General Inability to Concentrate (aggravated by the sorer affliction called Eight-Year-Old-in-Agonizing-Battle-with-Loose-Tooth [The pains of aging start early.]).

I think it's because it's all gray and gloomy out.

day unto day, night unto night

2011-04-16T17:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday while mulling links between wait and weight, I was watching some time lapse photography on YouTube (I was also thinking about weight and waiting in connection with wine, cheese, fatted calves, and running, but I didn't think to look up time lapse photography for fermentation, farm animals, or improved cardiovascular health. Hm.).

Then today at 22 Words Abraham Piper posted the most gorgeous time lapse video I've ever seen. You've got to watch this:

wisdom and the wait

2011-04-15T23:45:00.001-07:00

I'm starting to learn that wisdom is not just knowing what to do (and why), but knowing when and how to do it.

God's wisdom is deep and rich and good and perfect in each of these things. (Tangent: I think that the idea of "good" and "perfect" gifts from James 1 probably ties in with this idea of completeness and timeliness, too...)

For the past few months I've been praying intently about some things, and waiting for God to answer. I've feared getting answers I don't like. I've feared silence. And I've even kind of feared seeing things resolve to my own "ideal." All in all, I've been wrapped up in me.

But a crazy thing has been happening.

He has been answering---just the requests He's been answering are things I gave up praying for months or years ago. Things I never thought would be solved or resolved. Things I didn't think could get any better. He's providing for needs I had and didn't even realize. More than that, He's giving me good, good gifts that I would never have thought to request.

My time frame is not His. And His answers do not result from my expertise in asking, but from His goodness and grace to supply. When they come, they display His glory and knock my fears and self-absorption out of the water. What I see only dimly, looking out at the future, He has already written from beginning to end.

My mind is on Isaiah 25 tonight. I am grateful for a gracious Father Who is not limited by the time that seems to weigh on me so heavily.

How desperately I need His grace to wait for the wine to age and the story to unfold.

He will swallow up death forever;
and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces,
and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth,
for the LORD has spoken.
It will be said on that day,
"Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us.
This is the LORD; we have waited for him;
let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation."
--Isaiah 25:8-9

like clockwork

2011-04-15T15:31:00.001-07:00

At the beginning of 2011, I made a New Year's resolution.

(Actually, I made two. But I've been trying all day and can't remember the second one.)

I resolved not to cut* my hair this year.

I knew that I needed to make a resolution, because I knew that (1) there was a slight chance I would want to do something dramatic at some point in the year, and having the semblance of self-control that I do seem to have, "dramatic" normally doesn't get much more dramatic than hair cut chin-length (unless Amber Tracy is instructing the hairdresser, in which case something as dramatic as highlights may be contemplated), or (2) there was a much greater chance that I would
just.
get.
bored.
with my hair and cut it off to add some variety to things.

So, here it is, April 15. And I'm bored.

More than that, I am starting to see the split ends. Hundreds. Tens of hundreds.

(Well, maybe not tens of hundreds.)

Even setting aside boredom, it needs to be cut for its own good. This is unhealthy, unsanitary, inhumane. Shaggy. Unkempt.

That, and at school the other day I saw a girl with a really cute haircut.

But, no. I am like Odysseus and the sirens. And even if my sirens are split ends, and even if it is unhealthy, unsanitary, inhumane, shaggy, and unkempt, I'm going to let it grow.

Sigh.

Somebody please tie me fast with even more lashings.

___________________
*"Cut" doesn't include trim.

. . . and a toothbrush, to boot

2011-04-14T12:40:00.001-07:00

Just now I was thinking unhappy thoughts about having to stop and pay my California taxes on the way to school.

Then I remembered I was on the state's payroll.

This has been one of the more confusing and paradoxical realities of my existence so far (and there are quite a few).

So, thanks, California. I will try to smile when I think about how you made me pay sales tax on all my Amazon.com purchases.

::trying to smile::

Look, I'll even smile with teeth . . . the same ones I brushed with the toothbrush you gave me at grad student orientation.

[Note: In reality, I haven't been able to bring myself to use the toothbrush they gave me at orientation. I am saving it for a really desperate situation, where the lack of an appropriate toothbrush is so imperative that I can overcome my revulsion at feeling like a ward of the state.]

erratum

2011-04-14T08:09:00.000-07:00

When I said "homonyms" yesterday, I meant "homophones."

That would have been quite a realization.

two are better than one, but I wouldn't be mourning without u

2011-04-13T18:51:00.000-07:00

"La caza quita el hambre pero no el frío."

"The hunt removes the hunger but not the cold."

(My Spanish professor [Spanish as in Spanish Spanish, not just speaks Spanish] says he heard this is a Chinese proverb. It happened to be relevant in a lecture on deconstructionism, so the actual origin didn't matter as much as some inherent phonetic ambiguity for non-Spanish Spanish speakers. But it actually was relevant to his relational history. And it's a thought-worthy proverb regardless.)

Also, I think I didn't realize until class today that "morning" and "mourning" are homonyms. If I were learning English as a second language, I think I would be intrigued by this.

e-insecurities

2011-04-13T08:26:00.000-07:00

Today I've been trying to organize my Google Reader from its years-old condition of looking something like a cyclone of remotely interesting things.

Along the way, I've been changing settings on things.

And I have no idea what I'm doing.

What I do know is that Google knows more about me almost than I do.

still, life

2011-04-12T15:53:00.000-07:00

[First, an update: the trees survived! The ones doomed for destruction were marked with a white chalk "X." Ours weren't.]

Here's what's on my mind, like so many unrelated edibles on the table in a still life:

Penelope. I think when I grow up I want to be her. Except, first I have to actually read the Odyssey. And I'd really rather that my husband didn't take so long coming home or sleep with nymphs. Add to that the problem that I think I've already grown up. And the minor issue of not having a husband. That's a lot of problems...
PhD. I like school this quarter. Quite a bit. What's with that?
Guitar. Why did I stop playing guitar?
Worldliness. Thoughts on what it is and how to keep away from it.
Faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. The substance of things hoped for. The substance.
Alejo Carpentier. How did he get to be such a genius?
Easter. Every year I get more excited about the resurrection. Then I get a little disappointed by Easter, because it's not it. There's a line in one of the new Sovereign Grace songs--"His nail-scarred hands will finally bring us to His side." Yes. Oh, for that day.

(That's "Penelope and Her Suitors" by John William Waterhouse.)

Silent Spring (except for the chainsaws and the grinder)

2011-04-06T07:42:00.000-07:00

This week has heralded The Great Chainsaw Massacre, Part II. The County is systematically cutting down all the sidewalk-bordering trees in the neighborhood.

And by "all," it looks like "all."

I look out at the camphors and wonder if they're next. I love those trees.

And I mourn for the young bird families just now making themselves at home.

Huh.

2011-04-05T16:42:00.001-07:00

So this is kinda interesting (especially when you're supposed to be preparing for a presentation on literary longing for national identity . . .).

This guy is looking for a wife, and offering $10,000 to the person who finds her.

Hook Chas up.

It seems like mix fairytale, children's book, ultimate-identity-construction-manipulation, lottery, old-timey personals ad, and parody on Victorian novel.

Kinda like what we were all doing on Facebook anyway but more direct . . . and with a cash incentive.

Kudos, Chas.

(Do you really live in that house? Or is this another case of "accessories sold separately"?)

reading the read, readying the reader

2011-04-05T08:38:00.000-07:00

I haven't even read Specters of Marx yet, and I keep seeing the guy everywhere: my pastor's thoughts on public school schedules, a conversation with my dad over coffee, a Gchat rant about specialization and compartmentalization . . .

I may not agree with the man overall, but reading what he thought is kind of helpful in understanding the world around me, and in understanding the perspective of people who are living in Marx's legacy without even knowing it.

That being the case, I was happy to read this post from Tim Challies: Why Christians Should Read in the Mainstream.

If you want to understand the people around you, why they are the way they are, what influences them, why they make the decisions they do, you will do well to read the books they read. These books explain the ideas; the people live the ideas.

Now, it is kind of troubling that what I'm reading for school is a little further upstream than the mainstream. But it's all tied together (why am I thinking of Poohsticks?). And maybe one day (maybe next year?) I'll have time to read in the mainstream again.

six letters. five minutes.

2011-04-04T09:01:00.000-07:00

Jason's one of the first people I met from SGOC. So I'm happy to have had the opportunity to be a friend before I was a fan.

Here's some work of his that went up on the Desiring God blog last week.

G.O.S.P.E.L. from Humble Beast Records on Vimeo.

haze

2011-04-01T10:15:00.000-07:00

So, one half of my homework for the weekend is reading Fire Alarm: Reading Walter Benjamin's 'On the Concept of History' by Michael Lowy (I don't know how to put two dots over the "o," or I would).

The premise for the book is that Benjamin's philosophy (criticism? literary approach? nobody really knows) expressed in a document written in 1940 is brilliant:

Walter Benjamin's 'Theses "On the Concept of History"' (1940) constitutes one of the most important philosophical and political texts of the twentieth century. (4)

But it is too complicated for regular people (even regular, brilliant, academically-minded people like Ph.D. students) to figure out, so instead we read Lowy, who is sufficiently smarter than the rest of us to be able to translate.

What I am gathering from the prologue is the following:
(1) Nobody knows for sure what Benjamin was trying to accomplish (prove, argue, express, whatever) in his theses.
(2) The theses are very difficult to understand.
(3) Critics sharply disagree on what Benjamin was saying and with which other thinkers he was aligned.
(4) Lowy is going to translate and make Benjamin's thoughts as clear as possible.

Something about this seems not-quite-right . . .

How do we know if Lowy gets it right?
If nobody can understand Benjamin's writings, how do we know they were brilliant?
If all the critics who read the writings disagree so sharply on what they say, have they really said anything?

It is an enigmatic, allusive, even sybilline text, its hermeticism studded with images, allegories and illuminations, strewn with strange paradoxes and shot through with dazzling insights (Id.).

epiphany

2011-03-28T13:46:00.001-07:00

Here I am, 27 years old and starting the last quarter of the first year of my second graduate program, and just now coming to the following realization:

Most of my stylistic development over the last three years (read: since I met Amber Tracy and was told I was "frumpy") could have been instantly effected if somebody'd just told me earlier that Miss Frizzle is not a paragon of style.

The colors, the hair, the accessories, the educational value inherent even in her dresses . . . yes, I have admired it, wanted it (maybe even more than I've wanted to look like a librarian--the one obvious lack in Miss Frizzle is that she doesn't wear glasses).

But I think now I'm resigned to moving on.

So sorry, Miss Frizzle. It was good while it lasted.

[Note: It's not that I ever dressed like Miss Frizzle (at least not since I was 14). But I think that if I'd had an honest conversation with someone, especially about my mistaken belief that crazy hair = intelligence (which probably owes a debt to Albert Einstein at least as much as Miss Frizzle, except that his name isn't Mr. Frizzle, and really it would've been more like Mr. Fuzzle, given his hair type), I could perhaps have avoided some of my frumpiness problems earlier on.]

glut

2011-03-28T07:09:00.001-07:00

On Friday afternoon I got home from the best spring break ever (more on that later, probably), walked into my room, and found the remains of the recent War of Term Papers still sprawled over the battlefield:

Thankfully, most of these are library books that will be going back today (not looking forward to that trip...).

But I'm finding that each quarter I'm accumulating quite a few books that are in that ambivalent window of probably-not-going-to-read-again-but-worth-keeping-instead-of-selling-back---like this collection from last quarter:

(Note: I have vacuumed since this picture was taken. The books may still be homeless, but they are no longer keeping company with dustbunnies or stray hairs.)

So more space-efficient shelving is probably tops for a summer to-do list, even if it does mean replacing these shelves, which are one of the first furnishings of my parents' household, and even if it means less-spacious accommodations for my collection of stuffed animals wearing motarboards:

'Cause I had a book problem long before I started at UCI,

only aggravated by my most recent (and final?) move out of the law office,

and showing no signs of abating any time soon.

This stack (plus two more Amazon acquisitions) is my book plunder since Friday:

I love my books, and I'm even rather fond of my problem.

But I'm tired of hauling them around, and not sure what I'll do when my bookshelf space runs out (getting rid of books doesn't ever really seem like an option).

One of these days I may even be open to the [currently-still-heretical-sounding] idea of Kindle.

Amazon [almost] reviews grad school

2011-03-17T09:57:00.001-07:00

Last week, one of my professors recommended the book Critical Terms for Literary Study, which I had planned to buy today.

I looked up the book on Amazon and noted that it had less-than-rave (but well-reasoned) reviews. The review linked below seems to confirm some of my suspicions after being shown some selections by the professor; not only that, but it seemed like a good review of grad school generally:

Not worth the trouble

Sadly (at least for my future as a "normal" person), I may still buy it . . .

nice

2011-03-14T18:41:00.000-07:00

Jihadist magazine advises women on beauty, marrying mujaheddin

re-cog-ni-tion

2011-03-14T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've just been reading some old papers for inspiration, along with the poetry paper I wrote last week (just to see what I said, now that things have cooled down a bit).

One of the first things I realized was that I made a horrible mistake with a cognate right in the first line.

I wrote this, which I thought came out pretty well:

Desde la expulsión de Adán y Eva del Edén, la pena del exilio ha sido hilo prominente de la fábrica humana.

It was supposed to mean this:

Since Adam and Eve's expulsion from Eden, the pain of exile has been a prominent thread in the human fabric.

But it actually meant this:

Since Adam and Eve's expulsion from Eden, the pain of exile has been a prominent thread in the human factory.

Ergh.

500 million times less romantic

2011-03-11T18:38:00.000-08:00

The Conroy's down the street is advertising a sale on "bokays."

I know I'm taking on Shakespeare here, but I have a hard time attaching signifier to referent.

does not function well on three hours of sleep.

2011-03-10T20:59:00.000-08:00

Roughly 40 days after leaving Facebook, I still find myself thinking in these tacitly solipsistic incomplete sentences.

Not that this is any less solipsistic.

pph

2011-03-09T21:11:00.001-08:00

So I just spent two hours writing the first paragraph of my ten-page paper. The one that's due tomorrow. At 2:00.

At the rate of 1/2 paragraph per hour . . .

I'm in trouble.

sloppy slope

2011-03-09T08:03:00.000-08:00

A people that grows accustomed to sloppy writing is a people in process of losing grip on its empire and on itself. -- Ezra Pound, ABC of Reading 34 (1934)

I keep running into Pound in my term paper research (this, though, was thanks to Garner's Tip of the Day). Good stuff.

receta

2011-03-08T09:49:00.000-08:00

Here's a recipe for anybody trying to make a delicious Last Day of Class.

1 stellar paper proposal

In absence of stellar paper proposal, the following substitution can be made:

1 mediocre paper proposal
2 dozen white chocolate macadamia nut cookies
Fold paper and cookies together until all paper is blended. Let sit in class for two hours until cookies disappear. Leave class quickly. Bake paper at high temperature for one week or until due.

Is it oxymoronic to post this here?

2011-03-07T20:04:00.000-08:00

Here's a true and thought-provoking trailer for Tim Challies's new book on life and technology:

This reminds me that on Friday I took an hour and went to read at my favorite spot at Corona Del Mar. It was around lunchtime, and quite a few people came and went with their lunches.

Every

single

person

(even those who came with someone else)

spent a good chunk of time checking whatever-people-check on their smartphones.

At the beach! On a splendid and beautiful day! Oh, the travesty.

Do teleportation next, please!

2011-03-07T14:49:00.001-08:00

Professor who researches invisibility joins UCI

Maybe he can help me make a cloak of invisibility for the gym.

this is called "procrastination"

2011-03-07T14:19:00.001-08:00

I'm going to try to keep this blog up again (as explained here), and hope that the Chinese spammers stay far away.

down, down, down . . .

2011-03-07T11:17:00.000-08:00

Writing gets me down.

And I guess it has for a while now.

This morning I finally put 2 and 2 together that Spring of 2009 was an all-out writing extravaganza, with 7 classes at CSUF and a decent amount of blogging.

But then a great mental fog descended, and I’ve written nary a thing since. Even my journal (which was never very loquacious, but it did have at least page-long entries) has dried up to sparse sentences here and there.

I am suffering from cerebral obstruction.

It’s really sad. I need a high-fiber diet for my brain.

Or maybe I lost my writing capacity in Jordan: permanent imaginative sunstroke.

I hope it isn’t permanent.

Whatever it is, I need to fix it soon, because my papers are coming due (one Thursday, one each next Thursday and Friday), and thinking about it only makes me sick.

I used to like to write! What’s wrong?

I'm still writing.

2010-12-15T07:38:00.000-08:00

I'm still writing, but after getting a whole heap of hits from China for no apparent reason, I have moved.

The new address is intrahistoria_dot_tumblr_dot_com (you'll have to put the dots in yourself).

البقية

2010-08-24T23:00:00.000-07:00

Today in GED class we studied pie charts. And we had a pie chart representing the budget of a landscaping business. And one of the categories in the chart was "miscellaneous."

In the nearly three months we've spent together, I've learned that the GED seems to be particularly crafted to befuddle ESL students. Given a list of reasonably understandable budget items, where does "miscellaneous" fit in? More complicated still, how does one explain that "truck repairs" must fall under miscellaneous because it is not listed anywhere else on the chart?

It makes enough sense when you understand all the words well. But if some words are still mysterious? And your teacher can't figure which ones those are?

Some days I really wish for straight up brain-to-brain communication.

the same old song

2010-08-18T21:24:00.000-07:00

Just found this old post from a few years ago. This'll be life again in a few weeks...

Migration Patterns in Periods of Academic Concentration: An Analysis

Researchers have long noted an acceleration of the Second Law of Thermodynamics directly proportional to the level of concentration allocated by undergraduate, graduate, and post-graduate students toward their studies (Chaos, 427-435). Given the widespread observation of this phenomena, it is surprising that to date detailed attention has not been given to analysis of data related to migration patterns. The aim of this project is to remedy this gap in the corpus of SLT studies. Data were collected for several key populations: laundry, dishes, and edible items not tending toward beneficial nutrition.

Section 1: Impact of SLT on Migration Patterns of Laundry

Data collected for migration patterns of laundry found a direct correlation between SLT and the amount of attention given by a student to his or her studies. Research papers specifically seemed to accelerate the effect of the SLT, resulting in large migration of laundry from closet to student to laundry basket (Table 1.1). Interestingly, researchers found that this acceleration was stunted in some cases due to a phenemenon labeled Wearing the Same Thing for Several Days (WSTSD) (Table 1.2). Instances of WSTSD intensified in cases of research papers above 20 pages in length or which were not concerned with a student's favored area of study. Research from our colleagues in the study of psychology was also consulted, and confirmed that WSTSD seems to feed on itself, as a decrease in a student's interaction with the outside world is both the cause and the effect of prolonged WSTSD (Psycho, 4-6).

Section 2: Impact of SLT on Migration Patterns of Dishes

Interest in this branch of research began when researchers discovered a pattern: cases of research papers seemed to attract a large population of coffee mugs, bowls, forks, and plates (collectively CMBFP) near the site of a student's work (Map 1). Migration patterns were unusual, in that CMBFP typically migrate towards region in the Kitchen or Dining Room (CommonKnowledge, 3). As with the patterns in laundry, however, researchers found that instances of the migration anomaly were directly proportional to the length and subject matter of the proferred research projects (O'Really, 62-79)(Tables 2.1, 2.2, 2.3).

Section 3: Impact of SLT on Migration Patterns of Edible Items Not Tending Toward Beneficial Nutrition (EINTTBN)

Previous research in the field of student life has confirmed a related theory known as "The Freshman 15" (Fatty, 99-106). Our research confirmed that EINTTBN intake increased directly proportionally with the length and subject matter of research projects (Table 3.1), with a remarkable surge in EINTTBN containing large amounts of chocolate (Table 3.2). The surge was most significant in the population of female students (Table 3.3.1) but the trend extended to the male population as well (Table 3.3.2). EINTTBN containing large amounts of caffeine were the most significant population group observed, with migration patterns more than doubling those toward regions of Confirmed Starbucks Addicts (CSA) (Map 2). Even students not located in the classes of CSA attracted largescale migration during the observation period (Table 3.4).

THE END

math in Ramadan

2010-08-18T15:08:00.000-07:00

On Monday I arrived at GED tutoring late and still a little jet-lagged, balancing the gigantic Barron's test prep book, a tray of baklava, my whiteboard eraser, and a handful of markers (The awkwardness of this arrangement may have something to do with why so many people use backpacks and book bags, but I have trouble with handsfree devices generally.).

It had occurred to me that the baklava wouldn't be any good during our customary mid-morning snack time, as I expected that the majority of my students would be fasting for Ramadan.

I knew for sure that I'd made a mistake when Elizabeth met my entrance with a sigh and "Emily! It's Ramadan!"

But, no sooner had I repented my faux pas, dangling delectable sweets in front of hungry religious students, than I realized: there were no hungry religious students to resent such dangling. There were no hungry religious students at all. No hungry students of any stripe.

There were no students.

It's Ramadan.

Ramadan is a month to fast from food . . . during the day.

It's a month to abstain from bodily pleasure . . . while the sun is out.

It's a month to recite holy words . . . and watch soap operas.

It's a month to make a private sacrifice to God . . . in an exceptionally public way.

It's apparently not a month for showing up to math class.

faces only a mother could love

2010-05-06T13:25:00.000-07:00

And she did.

Which is why we've all turned out [mostly] okay.

diagnosis: perplexing bewilderment

2010-05-05T21:38:00.001-07:00

People who want to write suffer from the most perplexing bewilderment, from the dreadful difficulty of writing, the mysterious failure of it and why prodigious effort so often arouses little interest in readers.

--Brena Ueland, If You Want to Write ix (2d ed. 1987)

disturbing mystery of the day

2010-05-05T09:34:00.000-07:00

Why will No. 2 eat any kind of new Asian food, but not Arabic or Indian food?

Why is she prejudiced against subcontinents and West Asian regions?

Why?

let's think about probability for a minute

2010-05-04T15:06:00.000-07:00

Even before Mayor Bloomberg had obviously lost his hypothetical $.25, his statement was patently ridiculous.

Why can't we admit that radical Islamists are, as a group, our enemies? There are plenty of radical Islamists who do.

out of touch

2010-05-03T17:05:00.001-07:00

Today I went to get my hair cut, which always seems to be a thought-provoking incident. (Now I am wondering what is not a thought-provoking incident. Hmmmm.)

Anyhow, my hairdresser has a TV, which has so far served as my introduction to such classics as Judge Judy and whatever that show is that has Jeff Foxworthy and fifth graders (which is rigged, I'm sure).

So today the fifth grader show ended and Oprah came on. And I learned at least two interesting things:

(1) Oprah's show is ending this year.
(2) Naomi Campbell is known for throwing (figuratively) temper tantrums and for throwing (literally) objects at people who annoy her during said tantrums.

In the process of learning these two things, I learned two more things:

(1) By not already knowing said things, I demonstrated my extreme out-of-touch-ness, which was at least mildly surprising to the hairdresser, who kept trying to make small talk and meeting with a questioning expression (that is annoying; I feel her pain).
(2) It IS possible to live a rich and happy life and still be completely out of touch with pop culture. At least, I don't feel any richer or happier knowing that Oprah is retiring or that Naomi Campbell pitches fits.

There are, I'm sure, deeper truths under these two things. But I haven't finished thinking about them yet.

Eyjafjallajokull

2010-05-01T21:46:00.000-07:00

UNbelievable

2010-04-30T14:51:00.000-07:00

Iran is now a member of the UN Commission on the Status of Women, after being voted in (by default) by the UN's Economic and Social Council.

Maybe discarding any vestige of common sense is a prerequisite to believing in international unity.

Like many atrocities, Iran's bid for membership on the Commission was overshadowed -- just long enough -- by its even more unpopular bid for membership on the Human Rights Commission. That's ironic, since most of Iran's well-known human rights violations are injuries to female humans.

Amid the astonishing lack of international uproar, one Iranian human rights coalition did put its protest on record:

Letter to the UN from the International Campaign for Human Rights in Iran

unclassified

2010-04-28T23:03:00.000-07:00

I am the kind of lazy that clips the Gap logo from a credit card application and uses it as a pattern piece for the blocks of a doll quilt (cut out today at the smiling insistence of an awfully cute seven-year-old who seems to have stolen a page from the Persistent Widow's Playbook).

Well, come to think of it, I'm not sure: is that lazy or just resourceful?

I think I'm gonna go with resourceful.

Unsolved Mystery of the Day

2010-04-27T22:48:00.000-07:00

Here's something to think about.

Apparently, nobody knows* where the phrase "on the fritz" originated.

Intriguing, eh?

* In case anybody is wondering, I DID do more than just check the Wictionary. I do have the intellectual honesty and fortitude at least to Google the question.

calling names

2010-04-26T22:27:00.000-07:00

On Saturday I talked online with my friend Chris, who is living in Jordan. He stayed when the rest of us went home, and got a job teaching English.

He asked what was going on, so I (naturally) told him about my vegetable garden. He asked for a list of my vegetative endeavors. When I got to "basil" he told me the sad story of his deceased basil, Boris, who gave up his will to live and would not cooperate for all the careful tending in the world.

Two things happened when I heard this story. First, I remembered why Chris and I were friends (well, then and again later when he told me the exciting things he was learning in grammar class). Second, I realized with some dismay that I had not named any of the plants in my garden.

They do all have personalities. And there have even been dramas: ambush attacks (The Great Sudden Onslaught of the Rolly Pollies, for instance), class warfare (nursery green beans v. last year's spontaneous seedlings), and disturbing treachery (the unassuming but wildly intrusive mint plant seeking refuge from a naive but thorny rose only to suck her lifeblood under the shelter of prickly stems -- "Die, murderous mint!" was the chant for that day).

And I did try to mother a basil plant akin to Chris's Boris. A basil plant that made NO EFFORT WHATSOEVER to live. (In its defense, it was neighbor to the cilantro, which transplanted flawlessly and quickly grew to be taller and happier and more arrogant than all the other plants. He must have given the basil an awful time.) Come to think of it, we did refer to her consistently as The Girl Alone at a Party, even if she didn't have a proper name.

My momentary remorse for not having named my plants soon faded with a glimpse through this splendid, glowing window of opportunity.

"Brutus" was the first name I thought of for the successor of my departed basil. And then if he dies (which could happen; he is not looking too great at this point), I will say "e tu, Brute?" And at least I will be entertained by this.

One of my three pepper plants will be named "Osvaldo." I don't know which one yet. Maybe the cayenne pepper that I only bought accidentally when I thought I had picked up a cucumber.

There are at least a dozen more plants that need naming after Brutus and Osvaldo, especially if I count my onions and garlic individually instead of as families.

Happy day!

the winter and the discontent

2010-04-26T13:10:00.000-07:00

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

Ephesians 4:1-3 (ESV)

This passage hit me upside the head last week (and Pastor Dan's sermons yesterday were quite the effective encore).

In the last year, while trying so hard to discern the "will of God" for my next step (which job? where? grad school? studying what? and a host of other questions), I have been letting myself get more and more self-centered, less and less kind, more and more ungrateful, more and more stubbornly independent.

Even after some big chunks of Next seemed to be sorted out, I kept second-guessing, wondering if I had made the right decisions, wondering if I had taken all the right steps to consult God.

Had I missed my calling? What should I do to fulfill my calling? Work in a law office? Move to another country? Do I need more Arabic for my calling? Can I do it here in California or should I look for a school in a different state? I know God has given me different gifts. Am I using them the right way? Am I a good steward? What about all this sin that keeps giving me (and everybody around me) grief? Why am I unhappy? And unpleasant? Where does that fit in?

Then ::WHACK!!!!!::

Humility and gentleness, patience, bearing with one another, eagerness to maintain unity.

That's how to walk worthy of my calling.

Those are the instructions here or in Jordan or studying Arabic grammar at UChicago or teaching Elementary Spanish at UCI or working in a highrise office or volunteering with a non-profit.

Or talking to my sister. Or responding to my mom. Or working at church.

Following Jesus in these things is important. More important than where I work or what I study or how much money I make.

Contentment is not stagnation.

Embracing His good gifts and leaning on His grace, I think I'm ready to move forward.

life and death in springtime

2010-03-17T21:37:00.000-07:00

In anticipation of actually being home (and largely unemployed) for this gardening season, I've been spending a lot of time outside. Weeding. Cleaning. Pruning. Mulching. Planting. Watering. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Waiting.

I waited SEVEN WHOLE DAYS before anything sprouted.

(No, patience is not a strength of mine.)

But now things are coming up all over. I am the proud mother of several onion and garlic sprouts, some friendly-looking bean plants, and a host of baby lettuces.

Sadly, there are too many baby lettuces, and some will have to go. I find this distressing, and keep putting off the dastardly deed. This morning, when I was watering them, they were all looking up with such hopeful faces, promising perfect salads.

Poor things.

And they're speaking for YOU.

2010-03-09T19:08:00.000-08:00

If you haven't seen this yet, click below to watch Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid describe a "big day for America":

And, today, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi made the curious (but telling) statement

"You've heard about the controversies within the bill, the process about the bill, one or the other. But I don't know if you have heard that it is legislation for the future, not just about health care for America, but about a healthier America, where preventive care is not something that you have to pay a deductible for or out of pocket. Prevention, prevention, prevention -- it's about diet, not diabetes. It's going to be very, very exciting. But we have to pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it, away from the fog of the controversy."

A blogger at U.S. News & World Report has pointed out the inanity of Rep. Pelosi's statement, calling it a "gaffe." "Gaffe" is quite the generous term, considering that Pelosi's was an apparently-scripted address at the 2010 Legislative Conference for the National Association of Counties. Read the entire transcript here.

boats against the current

2010-03-09T08:11:00.000-08:00

I finished Moby Dick yesterday!!! This after, I dunno, maybe six years of trying to get caught up in the story. Hurray!

As for what I thought of it . . . I'm still not sure. These [mostly-negative] contemporary reviewers made some great points. But I don't agree with those who faulted Melville's writing style (like the one guy who whined about syntax); that was the best part.

The book IS disjointed, and if you read it in the original three volumes, I can see how the final volume may seem like a completely different book than the first. But the character development was good. I love Starbuck.

And I learned a whole lot about whales.

more shrewd in dealing with their own generation

2010-03-02T12:32:00.000-08:00

Practical common sense is a very scarce thing among the conductors of Christian enterprises. We might learn from our enemies if we would, and so make the Philistines sharpen our weapons. This morning let us note enough to sharpen our zeal during this day by the aid of the Holy Spirit. See the energy of the Papists, how they compass sea and land to make one proselyte, are they to monopolize all the earnestness? Mark the heathen devotees, what tortures they endure in the service of their idols! are they alone to exhibit patience and self-sacrifice? Observe the prince of darkness, how persevering in his endeavours, how unabashed in his attempts, how daring in his plans, how thoughtful in his plots, how energetic in all! The devils are united as one man in their infamous rebellion, while we believers in Jesus are divided in our service of God, and scarcely ever work with unanimity. O that from Satan's infernal industry we may learn to go about like good Samaritans, seeking whom we may bless!

-- C.H. Spurgeon's Morning thought for today