Et Alia

"The Magicians" by Lev Grossman

2010-06-30T14:41:00.000-07:00

To anyone looking at the dates between this post and the last: this is not the first book I've read since October. I'm as good at maintaining a blog as I was at keeping a journal when I was a kid, but better at it than I was at feeding my goldfish. Some things slip through the cracks.

But that having been said, The Magicians was enough of a pleasure and a surprise that I just couldn't skip getting some thoughts down on paper. The Magicians is probably best summed up in this review snippet from George R. R. Martin: "The Magicians is to Harry Potter as a shot of Irish whiskey is to a glass of weak tea." It is definitely Harry Potter for adults, Narnia rated R.

Which is a good thing- a great thing. It gives you a world of magic and wonder and makes you beg to be taken home. The main character, Quentin Coldwater, is a dysphoric wunderkind-cum-magician who is anything but a hero. It's not that he's trying to be happy and not succeeding; he's miserable and in his misery wonders why he can't be happy, or whether happiness even exists. That kind of struggle is fascinating without magic, but with magic it's downright pyrotechnic.

What I like most about the book (aside from foul-mouthed college students placed in settings formerly reserved for the likes of Ron Weasley and the Pevensie children) is the way it treats the idea of magic. In the book magic is neither a blessing nor a personally transforming force. People still are who they are, with or without magic. And an important question is asked that always seemed to lurk at the edge of Potter-land and Narnia: if magic allows you to do everything, why do anything?

The characters- a motley crew of child geniuses who have all the social graces that child geniuses usually have- are a perverse joy. In unreal settings, they are like real people. Apparently there's no amount of magic in the world that will prevent people from being cruel, or cowardly, or downright twisted.

When I realized I wasn't at Hogwarts anymore: Quentin Coldwater, having just gotten into a fistfight, is lying in the infirmary with his former opponent. The dean comes, warns the boys to behave or face expulsion from the school, and leaves. So far, it's a scene right out of Harry Potter. And then Q turns to his schoolmate and says, "If you ever do anything that gets me sent back to Brooklyn, I will motherfucking kill you."

As I said, the book was a surprise, and it's the first book in a while that I stayed up reading into the wee hours. Some acquaintance with Harry Potter is probably a good thing, and I don't know if you'd get the full effect without having read the Chronicles of Narnia as well.

"A Moveable Feast" by Ernest Hemingway, Revised Edition

2009-10-24T17:28:00.000-07:00

I remember being very jealous of Deborah when she picked up her copy of the revised edition of "A Moveable Feast", but it wasn't until I recently read "The Snows of Kilimanjaro" that I actually went out and bought it. I've become fascinated with Hemingway lately, and "A Moveable Feast" is, for me, the perfect way to explore that because not only does the author describe an important period in his life in his own words, but he does so from the perspective of a writer than a biographer. He trims the fat of the stories and changes what needs to be changed because, even though it's not exactly true, he hopes the changes will make it more true. It's written best in one of the Fragments found at the end of this edition, part of an introduction that never was: "This book is fiction. But there is always a chance that such a work of fiction may throw light on what has been written as fact."

The stories in the book chronicle Hemingway's early days of writing in Paris and traveling in Europe. While in Paris Hemingway is exposed the community of writers living there at the time, and in particular he writes about knowing F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein, Ford Maddox Ford, and some other who I did not recognize but enjoyed very much reading about. Upon reflection one can see the hint of a narrative from the beginning of the book to the end, but for the most part the stories stand alone and are as strong that way as they are considered as a whole.

It must be said that it felt strange reading the revised edition without having read the book as it was originally published. But then, even when it was originally published there had been choices and edits to be made, as it was unfinished at the time of Hemingway's death. Of both editions it is safe to say that there is an amount of uncertainty regarding what the finished product may have looked like. This edition claims, of course, to be more complete or true to character than the original, but this is opinion and not fact. Either way it is valuable to have these stories written by a man in his last days (Hemingway committed suicide in July 1961) looking back on his early days.

All of the hallmarks of Hemingway's style are present in the stories, but one aspect I kept coming back to was the beauty and poignancy of the last lines or paragraphs of the stories. Hemingway's descriptions of his day-to-day life and encounters were not spectacular or showy, but matter-of-fact and interesting. But those last lines made me pay special attention, as they usually pulled the concept together, making the story about more than what it was about.

"The Snows of Kilamanjaro" by Ernest Hemingway

2009-10-20T16:30:00.000-07:00

I found this book while on a rainy-day walk through downtown Champaign last week. I was enjoying the cold and the spitting mist of rain, but the used book store I passed still looked warm and inviting. Its thickly carpet floors that absorbed every sound and turned everything into a whisper and closely-packed maze of shelves were too good to pass up. I don't know how long I wondered the stacks skimming over handwritten notes and signs that signified obscure categories such as, "British History, 1822-1907, Naval" and "New Age, Aquarius". Eventually I found myself in the section simply marked "Fiction" and I looked over the shelves, judging books by their covers. Hemingway, of course, stood out for me, and I picked this tiny book with its scribbled hand-written notes and strange posterboard binding, to take home. I'm glad I did.

"The Snows of Kilamanjaro" is a collection of some of Hemingway's short stories. Just like their author's life, the stories cover a variety of topics and take place all over the world. The compilation's titular story was written after Hemingway's first trip to Africa, and centers around a man who is near death, berating himself for never having written all the stories he had planned to write, and all the excuses he had for not writing them. It's a great beginning for the compilation as it gives the rest of the stories just a bit more of an underlying meaning: these were written by someone who wanted very much to tell their stories.

One of the things I like most about Hemingway's writing, and which is especially evident after reading a series of short stories, is the way carefully lifts his characters into the light. He turns them slowly and examines them, letting the light bounce off of them how it may, and then just as quietly and carefully, sets them back down into the dark corners, which is where he seems to find most of his characters. Sometimes the stories are nothing more than a brief, but revealing, glimpse into another life.

The last story, however, is different from the others in that it has a well-defined plot. "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber" is dependent on the sequence of events as much as it is dependent on its characters. They combine powerfully though and the story stands out from the rest because of this. I haven't chosen a favorite, but "The Short Happy Life" is certainly in the running.

But the small hits of short story have turned me into a junkie; instead of re-reading "The Sun Also Rises" for the 1,985,732nd time, I picked up the restored edition of "A Moveable Feast" today. Hopefully I can get my fill of Hemingway's prose while learning a little more about the man himself. Looking forward to it.

No-Page Books

2009-07-02T09:51:00.000-07:00

This is a fun writing prompt from Trisha's blog.

The idea is to come up with titles for books that would have no pages. Here are my five:

1. Doomsday Predictions That Have Come True

2. Harpo Marx: The Monologues

3. The Anorexic's Cookbook

4. Iraq's Best Nude Beaches 2009

5. Hard Work, Determination, and Skill: The Paris Hilton Story

"Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell

2009-06-05T20:29:00.000-07:00

I first became aware of this book when Paul mentioned it on his blog a while back. I picked it up and it sat on my bookshelf for a few months, but finally read it yesterday. I enjoyed the book, and will be reading the author's other books, The Tipping Point and Blink.

Outliers studies all of the factors that lead to great successes (things that lie far outside the normal range) that have nothing to do with the people themselves. The common belief is that there are some people who were born into poverty, for example, and were able to achieve great feats- and wealth- with spirit and determination. While strong spirit and determination are certainly factors, they are probably less responsible than is generally thought.

An example from the beginning of the book states that most (an overwhelming number, in fact) of Canada's upper league and professional hockey players are born in January, February, or March. Are people born at the beginning of the year more innately talented at hockey than someone born in September? Of course not; but it turns out that the cutoff date for youth leagues is January 1. Someone who turns ten on January 2 is in the same league as someone who doesn't turn ten until October or November. That extra year of physical maturity often leads to team scouts picking these boys for higher league teams, where the boys practice more and receive more and better coaching. By the time they're eighteen they actually are better than their later-born counterparts, but it all started with being a little older when the league started.

The book is full of examples and stories that illustrate that the world works on a much larger and more complicated scale than we often consider, but in the end this provides more complete and rational answers. Are Asians better at math by sheer virtue of being Asian? No, but a different number system might be a start, along with rice patties. (You'll have to read the book in order to put all of that together, but I assure you, it makes quite a bit of sense.)

In then end, that's what I took away most from the book: stuff makes sense if you look deeply enough. If you see a pattern, there's a reason. The outliers in the world, statistical anomalies like Canadian hockey players, Bill Gates, the Beatles, and the fact that fourteen of the seventy-five wealthiest people of all time were born in the United States between 1831 and 1840- they all make sense. And to me, the greatest reward of learning is the hope that, eventually, it'll all make a little bit more sense.

"The Old Patagonian Express" by Paul Theroux

2009-06-03T11:33:00.000-07:00

One good thing that I did take away from Bryson's Notes from a Small Island was curiosity about an author he'd mentioned once or twice, Paul Theroux. I had never heard the name before, but apparently Theroux is quite prolific and is considered the source for the best travel writing, especially when it comes to traveling overland by train. I looked over a couple of his titles at Barnes & Noble and settled on The Old Patagonian Express.

Theroux, studying a map at his home in Massachusetts, is able to trace a train route from Boston all the way through the Americas into the heart of Patagonia, the southern portion of Argentina. The story begins aboard a Boston commuter train and, sure enough, ends in the dusty backwaters of Patagonia ("Nowhere is a place," writes Theroux). The journey in between the two points- more important, of course, than the destination- is full of colorful characters, adversity, and some danger, all expertly and fascinatingly described by Theroux.

Some- if not most- of the places Theroux visits on his way are not beautiful; the landscapes are often barren and the people who live there are tough individuals, usually living in poverty. Despite all of this, Theroux maintains a narrative tone and though the landscape varies very little at times, he is always able to keep his observation fresh. He does not repeat himself, as Bryson did, but instead keeps a keen eye. The writing itself is often more interesting than the places it describes.

But that is not to say that Theroux does not find himself on some adventures, too. The riotous and frightening atmosphere of a South American soccer match, the border-crossing made in a hitched ride, and his experiences with train travel in general are only a few. My favorites are the story of an Irish ex-priest ("I wish I could, but I can't write. I'll tell you what, Paul- you write it. It would make a good story, wouldn't it?") and Theroux's time spent with the famous writer and poet Jorge Luis Borges.

To say that The Old Patagonian Express is about Central and South America is inaccurate. It's a book about traveling. I often think about the days of travel before the printed word: those who did travel also took on the responsiblity of carrying news and descriptions from place to place. They were welcomed guests who were expected to "sing for their supper", to share their exciting, interesting, and alien stories. Reading this book was like that. It was like inviting someone into your home to tell you about a place you've never been, equal parts entertainment (which is not to say fiction) and education (which is not to say boring).

Na, na na, na na na na, na na na na ...

2009-05-04T13:03:00.000-07:00

This is awesome. I would have loved to be there.

"Notes from a Small Island" by Bill Bryson

2009-04-06T19:30:00.000-07:00

Bill Bryson, one of my favorite authors, wrote Notes from a Small Island about a trip he took through Great Britain. He had lived in the country for a number of years and the trip was born of a desire to see much of lovely England before he and his wife moved back to the States. I've been reading this book on and off for a couple of months and I've finally gotten around to finishing it. Actually, saying I've finished it gives the wrong idea; I've finished with it. I've gone as far as I'm willing to go right now. I'm about fifty pages from the end and, as of right now, I give up. It's been a profound disappointment, Mr. Bryson, and I'm not sure who or what to blame.

I've really tried with this book because of my fondness for many of Bill Bryson's other writings. He has a wry sense of humor that I appreciate and I usually find that his insights on the places or subjects he's studying are homespun, common sense-ical, and instantly relatable. The Mother Tongue is an illuminating and endlessly fascinating look into the origins and structure of the English language. He manages to give the language character, with a history and personality all its own. His Short History of Nearly Everything should be required reading for every parent with an inquisitive child or anyone who takes being called "curious" as a compliment. (Which it is.) Last but not least, of course, is Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe. I've read this many times and I am always delighted in the way in which he explores and enjoys the European land-and-cityscape.

Unfortunately, most of what makes his other writing charming and entertaining is either absent from Notes from a Small Island or it serves only as a minute diversion from what is otherwise just a miserable trip. His descriptions of the cities he visits are all pretty much the same. In fact, I can summarize almost every chapter for you right now:

Bogford-Upon-Lilyshire had such a charming ring to it that, upon seeing it on my map, I knew that I'd have to have a look. I was very excited on the trainride there but, unfortunately, I was disappointed upon disembarking. Apparently, the architects of the late seventies decided to blight what was almost certainly once a quaint village with a glass-and-plastic shopping mall and vast expanses of empty car parks. I thought first I'd try to get lunch but the only shop open was an overpriced teahouse, where I ate anyway without enjoying it. I walked through the town square (now dominated by the massive department store), but the scenery was hideous and the weather was still cold and rainy (surprise). I decided to call it an early night. I booked a room in a horrible hotel and left early the next morning.

This is exactly how he describes most cities, to the point that I now picture every small British town in exactly the same way: unattractive and without redemption. After reading much of it, I've decided that the real problem is that the book shouldn't have been written at all, either because England really is that unattractive or Bryson finds it so. I've never been to any town mentioned in the book, so I can't tell which is true. But I know that I didn't enjoy reading about it.

I love travel narratives and I while I don't think that every place should be described with glowing affection or exaggerated charm, I think that an attempt should be made to enjoy a place. And if it truly cannot be enjoyed, then somewhere around the third chapter Bryson should have said, "Forget it, I'm going someplace both I and the reader can get into." At the very least, even if a place isn't absolutely adored, there should be some variety beyond varying levels of disappointment.

I continue to recommend many of Bill Bryson's other works, but unless you're planning some sort of Masochistic Get-Away for One, you should probably just skip Notes from a Small Island. And if this post seems a bit whiny and critical it's because I just spent a half hour reading the damn thing.

PS- One good thing that came out of the book was Bryson mentioning an affinity for a travel writer named Paul Theroux. I picked up Theroux's The Old Patagonian Express. Looking forward to reading that!

"Amusing Ourselves to Death" by Neil Postman

2009-03-31T19:21:00.000-07:00

The subtitle to this book, while lacking the title's shock value, is probably a little more relevant: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business. Postman's book, published in 1985, details the way in which television affects American culture, as America is the leading producer/consumer of television. A comparison made throughout warns that we are not likely to have our culture destroyed by Orwell's Big Brother, which would have to be forced on us, but by Huxley's soma, which would choose and adore.

The theme of the book is that the way information is transmitted affects the information itself, as well as the society in which it is transmitted. The printed word, for example, lends itself to lengthier discourse, so that the person writing it is required to make a well-supported argument and the person reading it must examine and consider that argument. Information had to be relevant, important, and subjected to at least some basic form of logic. With the telegraph, however, information did not have to be relevant, it simply had to be there. News could travel from Maine to Texas almost instantly; nevermind that people in Texas didn't really need to know what was happening in Maine. It wasn't relevant to their lives.

Jump to television, which takes the same idea of instantaneous, around-the-world information and makes it available 24 hours a day. Bookended by thrilling music and read by attractive people, the news has very little to do with your life other than the entertainment it provides in between commercials. According to Postman, TV programming is our main source of public discourse, and it doesn't need to answer to logic, relevance, or even importance.

I largely agree with Postman's views. TV is our society's primary source of discourse, and this has certainly led to a mentality that demands that something- anything- be entertaining above all else. Tackled specifically in the book are news, politics, education, and religion. I found myself nodding with Postman's assessments, sometimes realizing that I had often thought or felt the same thing myself.

I ranted previously that televisions are everywhere. I think now that, more specifically, my gripe wasn't with the box itself, but the fact that we want it to be there. We think it's necessary. There's almost a sense of, "What else is there?"

Over the last few days, I've been trying to apply Postman's ideas to a younger form of discourse: the Internet.* The Internet, of course, laughs at relevance and logic is reduced to a few scattered rants in user forums and (gulp) blogs that no one need ever read, much less consider seriously. But I think that the Internet, while no angel, is different than television rather than an exaggeration of it. For one thing, it's so big- it can be anything. When people choose their own irrelevant information, does that create some sort of relevance in itself? And is the prerequisite of entertainment sustained on the Internet as it has been on the TV screen? If not, what prerequisites are there for information on the Internet? That is, how does the medium of Internet affect the information it transmits?

One example I've thought about in the past is the idea of online classes, and how popular they seem to be becoming. I think the breaking point for me were Public Speaking and Spanish classes offered online. Postman notes that to change the medium of information without expecting the information itself to transform is ridiculous. Ask just about anyone who's seen the movie version of their favorite novel. And can the Internet be a classroom? When a teacher is in a classroom, he expects to teach. A student expects to learn. What each actually does may vary, but there is little doubt as to the intention of the entire process.

Q: What do you do in a classroom? A: I go to class, that's all.

Q: What do you do online? A: Anything I want.

These are a few brief points that have interested me for a while and were illuminated in "Amusing Ourselves to Death". If this entry is scattered and long, it's because I've been thinking, and will continue to think, about the ideas in this book. I suppose that's the point, after all.

* - I hereby suspend any and all irony related to the nature of critiquing the Internet on a blog.

"The Sun Also Rises", and a Fourth Question

2009-01-05T17:42:00.000-08:00

"The Sun Also Rises" is my favorite book. I usually hesitate to name a favorite so explicitly, usually opting instead to name my Top 5 (Top 5 movies, songs, banana-based desserts, what have you). But life is short, I'm told, so I'll come right out and own my love of "The Sun Also Rises". It's my favorite.

Because of this fact, writing a short blog on the book is a bit like writing a short blog entry about a good friend; there's no way to convey the nuances of the relationship or to make someone else understand why such things are important. However, having re-read the book just recently for the zillionth time, I felt compelled to jot down a few ideas.

First of all, the descriptions of Paris, Pamplona, and the Spanish countryside are priceless. The descriptions are not florid or ornate, but lean and basic. The sensation of 'being there' is much stronger because of this. From the nightly walks around Paris from the point of view of a jaded but content expat to the sights and smells of the woods on a fishing trip on the Irati, the book is a mini-vacation, a get-away for the mind.

Other parts of the book are like a good, melancholic party. There is much drinking and laughter, some fighting, some hurt feelings, followed immediately by more drinking and laughter. Just reading some of the fiesta scenes is enough to give you a pleasant hangover.

Finally, of course, are the characters. The damaged, conflicting characters. They're wonderful, like awful friends whom you just can't stay away from. I try to figure them all out with each read, and I come up with different answers every time.

There's more, but it's mine and I won't share it. I encourage you to giveA the book a read (or a second reading) and see what you take away from it!

A Fourth Question

This question doesn't come from "The Big Book of Questions" but from a book I saw at Barnes & Noble called "My Last Supper". The book asks 50 great chefs the following questions:

1. What would you choose as your last meal?

2. Where would you choose to eat it?

3. With whom?

I am constantly revising and reconsidering my answers to these questions, and often do so when I'm bored or killing time. Today I thought I would eat roast suckling pig outside, on a terrace over a Spanish or Italian vineyard. There'd be several bottles of wine and dessert ... dessert would be a warm berry cobbler a la mode. I'd dine alone or with all of my siblings. The answers to the first two questions vary from day to day, and the third answer never changes. This is one of my favorite questions, so I'd love to hear everyone else's answers!

PS- Okay, I know it's been on your mind, so here they are:

1. Banana Cream Pie

2. Bananas Foster

3. Toasted Banana Bread w/ Butter

4. Chocolate-covered Bananas

5. Banana Pudding (sliced bananas are a must!)

Smut

2008-12-09T21:56:00.000-08:00

Rowan Atkinson is probably best known for being Mr. Bean, but his other stuff is so much funnier! No matter how mature you are, I dare you not a snicker just a bit.

Eureka!

2008-12-02T19:28:00.001-08:00

With a persuasive speech due in class on Friday, much of this week has been devoted to finalizing a topic and starting research. I had chosen a topic a week ago, but as much as I tried to research it I just wasn't finding enough for a whole speech. Unfortunately I stuck with the topic for way too long; it was just tonight that I decided to ditch it and start all over.

So I spent a good 40 minutes pacing the living room, trying to find a new topic- one that was do-able and quick. (giggle if you must) Nothing. I tried bouncing a ball off the wall, Gregory House-style, but still nothing. Maybe I need a cane. It didn't matter anyway because my time was up- I had to go pick my roommate up from work.

In the car on the way home I ranted a bit about my dilemma. He tried to think of a couple of things too but in the end agreed that the whole deal sucked. He started talking about work a bit, and right before I turned onto my street, it hit me. I had chosen my topic.

Here's my question: what is that??? What is it about our brains that lets us organize and even analyze information when we're not really focusing on it? It's amazing and it's a great feeling, but I'm always mystified by it.

Have you had any of these "Eureka!" moments? How did it happen?

A Third Question

2008-11-25T19:23:00.001-08:00

Today's Question: Would you like to know the precise date of your death?

My first thought would be, "Why not?" It's not as if there's some possibility that I won't die, so there's no surprise there. And I don't think I'll be living for two hundred years or anything, so I already have my death narrowed down to a window of a few decades. The exact date is just narrower still.

But then I think, "Would it matter?" I suppose if I knew that I a lot less time than I thought I did I would have to make a few changes. There'd be a lot more flights to Vegas, certainly. But in the end it just might take the fun out of the whole thing.

So would I like to know the exact date of my death? Nah.

You?

Yeah, But There's Never Anything GOOD On ...

2008-11-23T21:48:00.000-08:00

I was at the grocery store the other day. Standing in line to check out (I refuse to use the self-check-out, but that's a rant for another day) I was greeted- as every customer in every check-out lane was greeted- with images of Jay Leno delivering the previous night's monologue, interspersed with commercials for products I've already had the option of purchasing (I'm in the bloody store, aren't I?) and even recipes, so that I know what to do with the products I've chosen.

At the bank I am once again in line, and once again there is a wall of televisions. CNN and Fox News speak and scroll and ALERT! By time I deposit my meager weekend earnings I am at least partially briefed on fluctuations in the Asian stock market, fluctuations in North Atlantic currents (our globe is apparently getting warm), and fluctuations in starlets' skirts. The starlets seem ahead of the game on the warming crisis, though, so I think we can call that a wash.

In the restaurant where I work there are eleven televisions throughout the building- all of them constantly on mute, providing that comforting, ever-present glow. People will bundle their families into the car, come out to a restaurant with other people, and request that the silent television's channel be changed because Survivor is on.

Even at school not an entryway or hallway or communal gathering area of that institution of higher learning goes unadorned with flat-paneled screens. There is, in fact, an over-sized (42"?) television placed on one wall of a long hallway from the entrance- where there's already a TV. This hallway TV, however, is positioned in such a way that it cannot be comfortably viewed in such a small space; it's just too big. Even if it could be comfortably viewed, it's in the middle of the [expletive deleted] hallway! Certainly not the best place for people to stop and watch bit of TV! I can only conclude that the television was placed there "just because." It's not meant to be watched, but we've gone nearly forty feet without a television, so let's just throw one up in the middle of the hallway.

Why do we need all of these TV's? I'm not on a crusade and I'm not pushing for people to start talking to each other when they're in line on some principle of human connectivity. Generally I don't want to talk to people, either, but I don't need a screen to distract me from it. At home I avoid TV with a few exceptions. If someone told me I wasn't allowed to watch TV ever again I'm pretty sure I'd make it. Imagine...

Let's imagine that for a moment: you're not allowed to watch so much as a second of television. Where could you go? Forget everything listed above: major grocery stores, most restaurants/bars, banks, school. And what would your house look like? How in blazes would you know how to arrange the furniture???

As I said, I'm not really on a crusade, just a rant. It's something I've noticed and I wonder, "Why?" We don't need TV's everywhere, so we've probably chosen to put them everywhere. Why did we choose this? Is it the same as popping in my iPod headphones out in public every once in a while?

Question the Second

2008-11-16T20:05:00.000-08:00

If you knew you could devote yourself to any single occupation- music, writing, acting, business, politics, medicine, etc.- and be among the best and most successful in the world at it, what would you choose? If you knew you only had a 10 percent chance of being so successful, would you still put in the effort?

Of the options listed, I'd want to be the best at writing. I like writing, and there's a lot about it that appeals to me- not the least of which is the fact that writing lasts, in one way or another. It's a record that says, "I've been here," or, "I thought this." And when people read it, they carry that little bit around with them. That's right: by reading this, you are making me immortal. Good job. As for what I would do if there were only a 10 percent chance of acheiving worldwide fame- of course I'd put in the effort. Those are better odds than I'd get anywhere else!

Question the First

2008-11-10T22:22:00.001-08:00

I was taking a look at some other blogs today and saw one in which the writer (blogger? Surely not author ...) posted answers to random questions as either a complete post or part of the post. Seeing this I suddenly remembered that I had a book of questions (indeed, if you believe the title it is, "The Book of Questions") that would be perfect for a small installment in my blog, and maybe it would help jumpstart more activity on my part.

I'm taking it easy on the first question: If you could have free, unlimited service for five years from an extremely good cook, chaffeur, housekeeper, masseuse, or personal secretary, which would it be?

Right away I can knock out housekeeper (who cares?) and personal secretary (not really that busy). Chaffeur is tempting because I hate driving and cars and just about everything that goes along with that. My own personal chaffeur would be pretty sweet. Masseuse is attractive, too, but how many massages can a guy get in five years and still really get into it, you know? I'm going to have to go with good chef, final answer. Extremely good food every night for five years? Sign me up!

What about you? Cook, chaffeur, housekeeper, masseuse, or secretary?

Pyle, England

2008-11-10T21:26:00.000-08:00

I am an admitted and unapologetic Anglophile. I'm a complete sucker for a British accent. I watch British comedy, and I even understand and get the jokes sometimes. I've fully incorporated the phrase, "Bloody hell," into my vocabulary and I use is whenever I can. I'm even finding that I'm partial to British authors. Maybe it's the extra "u" they put in their words from time to time. I don't know. But there's definitely a connection.

Perhaps I've found that connection, here. It's a town in what I think is Wales called Pyle. Ah, the fertile green fields that gave birth to my ancestors are calling me home, and the place has got my name written all over it in more ways than one. It might not look like much to some, but those rocky shores, emerald fields, and granite skies draw me in. Maybe one day I'll settle down in that lush countryside, tend to a flock of sheep. Or something.

Whatever the connection, I definitely want to visit this place and check out the area, which I really do think is idyllic. I don't know what it is about England in general, but I must go there one day and see what my minor obsession is really all about.

Coverage of ...

2008-08-23T00:23:00.000-07:00

Inter Arma Enim Silent Legis

2008-08-13T12:59:00.000-07:00

Caught this on the Yahoo! News Feed:

Crime-ridden Arkansas town expands 24-hour curfew By JON GAMBRELL, Associated Press Writer
Wed Aug 13, 6:41 AM ET

HELENA-WEST HELENA, Ark. - Officers armed with military rifles have been stopping and questioning passers-by in a neighborhood plagued by violence that's been under a 24-hour curfew for a week.

On Tuesday, the Helena-West Helena City Council voted 9-0 to allow police to expand that program into any area of the city, despite a warning from a lawyer with the American Civil Liberties Union of Arkansas that the police stops were unconstitutional.

Police Chief Fred Fielder said the patrols have netted 32 arrests since they began last week in a 10-block neighborhood in this small town on the banks of the Mississippi River long troubled by poverty. The council said those living in the city want the random shootings and drug-fueled violence to stop, no matter what the cost.

"Now if somebody wants to sue us, they have an option to sue, but I'm fairly certain that a judge will see it the way the way the citizens see it here," Mayor James Valley said. "The citizens deserve peace, that some infringement on constitutional rights is OK and we have not violated anything as far as the Constitution."

The area under curfew, in what used to be a West Helena neighborhood, sits among abandoned homes and occupied residences in disrepair.

White signs on large blue barrels warn those passing by that the area remains under curfew by order of Mayor James Valley. The order was scheduled to end at 3 p.m. Tuesday, but Valley said the city council's vote would allow police to have the same powers across Helena-West Helena.

Among the curfew operation's arrests, 10 came from felony charges, including the arrest of two people carrying both drugs and weapons, Fielder said. The police chief said the officers in the field carry military-style M-16 or M-4 rifles, some equipped with laser sights. Other officers carry short-barrel shotguns. Many dealing crack cocaine and marijuana in the city carry pistols and AK-47 assault rifles, he said.

"We've had people call us, expressing concern for their children," Fielder said. "They had to sleep on the floor, because of stray bullets."

Fielder said officers had not arrested anyone for violating the curfew, only questioned people about why they were outside. Those without good answers or acting nervously get additional attention, Fielder said.

However, such stops likely violate residents' constitutional rights to freely assemble and protections against unreasonable police searches, said Holly Dickson, a lawyer for the ACLU of Arkansas who addressed the council at its packed Tuesday meeting. Because of that, Dickson said any convictions coming from the arrests likely would be overturned.

"The residents of these high-crime areas are already victims," she said. "They're victims of what are happening in the neighborhoods, they're victims of fear. But for them to be subject to unlawful stops and questioning ... that is not going to ultimately going to help this situation."

The council rejected Dickson's claims, at one point questioning the Little Rock-based attorney if she'd live in a neighborhood they described as under siege by wild gunfire and gangs.

"As far as I'm concerned, at 3 o'clock in the morning, nobody has any business being on the street, except the law," Councilman Eugene "Red" Johnson said. "Anyone out at 3 o'clock shouldn't be out on the street, unless you're going to the hospital."

The curfew is the second under the mayor's watch since the rival cities of Helena and West Helena merged in 2006. That year, Valley set a nightly citywide curfew after a rash of burglaries and other thefts.

Police in Hartford, Conn., began enforcing a nightly curfew for youths after recent violence, including a weekend shooting that killed a man and wounded six young people.

Helena-West Helena, with 15,000 residents at the edge of Arkansas' eastern rice fields and farmland, is in one of the nation's poorest regions, trailing even parts of Appalachia in its standard of living.

In the curfew area, those inside the homes in the watch area peered out of door cracks Tuesday as police cruisers passed. They closed the doors afterward.

The question that comes to my mind, that I'm sure this article is intended to arouse, is this: Should people be allowed to forego their rights in favor of peace and security? It seems that in West-Helena measures like this may very well be improving the quality of life for the town's citizens. How does one balance that against the "slippery slope" of rights infringement/violation? The whole thing reminds me of V for Vendetta, in which the government uses and foments fear in order to gain more power and broader abilities.

Should a free society be allowed to choose not to be free?

'Llectuals on the Peeb

2008-07-18T01:42:00.000-07:00

"Summer reading you can watch!"

"Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly" by Anthony Bourdain

2008-06-29T00:06:00.000-07:00

I first heard- and continue to hear- Anthony Bourdain's voice as it narrated his adventures on the Travel Channel's No Reservations. On the show Bourdain travels around the world, providing his take on local food, drink, culture, and drink. (Yes, I know I mentioned drink twice. So would Tony.) What struck me most about the show was Bourdain's honesty. When he was amazed or impressed by something or someone, he gave them due respect and was genuinely interested. When he found something disgusting or- even worse- boring, he let us know by smoking in the background and poking fun.

That raw honesty is the ugly/beautiful part of the book that made Bourdain famous, Kitchen Confidential. In the book he describes his career from making a few dollars at a seafood place to running the kitchen in New York's Les Halles, and all of the painful, sometimes psychotic, sometimes rewarding steps in between. The book is not really biography, but working in a restaurant is more than a job: it's a subculture, it's a duty, it's a life. So when Bourdain describes his work, he is describing the greater part of his life. And while doing so, his voice comes through crystal clear. Bourdain has an attitude and a way with words that are real and translate well off the page.

I personally identified with much of the book, even if I am not leading exactly the same life as the pirate-crew of cooks Bourdain often describes. Even before reading the book, I described my job/life to others as abnormal and necessarily separate from the people we were serving. When normal people eat dinner, we're working. When normal people go to bed, we're getting off work and having a drink. When normal people get up for work, we're often on somebody's floor. It's as base and strange as Bourdain describes, but it's ours, and in a sick way we're proud of it.

But, as usual, greater notions came to me through the book. As I said, I identify with parts of the book but I am not as dedicated to "The Life" as Tony and his crew are. They work longer hours, doing much harder work, for less pay. There's an entire culture of people who do their work every day with no immediate satisfaction other than a well-cooked plate of food that will be gone in twenty minutes. They don't have nice houses or their names in lights. They have their jobs and a place where they can say, "I do this well." And that's enough. There's more to the job than that, of course, some good and some bad, but that part of it, at least, has nobility to it.

As for Bourdain himself, he has long been a hero of mine. Reading about his drug-ridden past, great failures, and lessons hard-learned has not diminished this in the least. If anything it has only boosted my esteem. Someone who's gone through all of that and come out standing on the other side probably knows a thing or two.

Play's The Thing

2008-06-28T22:32:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine posted the following selection on his blog the other day. It's from a book called "The Conservative Soul" by Andrew Sullivan. (I hope Paul doesn't mind my reposting all of this!)

The freest society is the one in which the quintessential, ultimate activity is play. Security is guaranteed; Work is done; the wealth that freedom creates enables leisure; and leisure begets play. When we play games we suspend for a time the burdens of practical life- of earning a living, feeding our bodies, getting enough sleep, saving our souls. We engage in activity that has no point; and those who play games merely to win them miss the point of playing. Games help us restraint, prudence, and cooperation that are central to democratic life. They teach us activities that lead nowhere but where they are.

My response to this came quickly, surprising even me. This is the comment I left:

I’m afraid I must disagree. I do believe that games and fun have value, at least on a personal level, but describing gameplay as ‘quintessential’ and ‘ultimate’ in society seems to defeat the point a little bit.

People banding together for survival and success- forming cities and countries and what have you- is one thing, but for the goal of a free society to be play removes them from earnest, hard, and important work of survival- the very reason they came together in the first place.

Which brings me to another thought- who is he talking about? I know America is a great industrial country that has given its citizens every opportunity to live a comfortable, healthy life, but are we to take that for granted while much of the world is still working- not playing- very hard for food and shelter? It seems shallow and careless to place ‘play’ on such a pedestal. And some may say that countries like America have earned their leisure, but we all know we’re not in our own little bubbles. We are connected to our factories and businesses abroad; if we insist that we are playing on the merit of our own work, we must admit that we’re doing so on their work as well.

Though I’d like to avoid hyperbole (as well as an over-used comparison), I would like to point out that this was very much the attitude of the Romans before the Empire fell. Days-long parties, feasts of bacchanalian proportions, and of course the infamous vomitorium were all play and fun, and they were all symptoms of atrophy in a breaking society.

I agree that games have their place, and that we need to have fun. Of course I do. But for that to be our goal, our quintessence, our height of living … doesn’t sit well with me.

What was surprising about this was that I didn't even know I felt this way! I just started typing and it snowballed out of me. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that much of what I've been reading and thinking about lately has given me glimpses into lives very different from my own. Perhaps there will be more on this later. I just wanted to share this and see what other people's reactions were.

One final note, however: Paul has an excellent blog, a fave that I check daily. You should check it out, too: http://paulalanrichardson.wordpress.com/

My Only Friend, The End

2008-06-12T01:25:00.000-07:00

From a news report at KLTV News ABC:

"An elusive group just outside of Abilene, Texas is claiming the end of the world is coming in less than a week.

The House of Yahweh recently gave ABC reporter Brian Ross access to their west Texas compound. Yahweh leader Yisrayl Hawkins says a nuclear holocaust will come June 12th and only members of his group will be saved.

All group members change their last names to Hawkins and live in the compound.
Local authorities claim the group is dangerous and practices polygamy. Shane Dee, the local district attorney, says there's no way to describe the group except as a religious cult. Yisrael Hawkins disagrees. "I don't control their mind in a witch-like fashion that the world is speaking of, to where I have some sort of power over them. I merely teach the laws to them."

Hawkins has predicted a doomsday twice before. He's also accused of having two dozen wives, and is facing bigamy charges.

You can see more of the Brian Ross interview tonight (Friday) on 20/20, airing tonight on KLTV 7 at 9:00 pm.
Cathryn Khalil / ckhalil@kltv.com

All content © Copyright 2001 - 2008 WorldNow and KLTV, a Raycom Media Station.All Rights Reserved. For more information on this site, please read our Privacy Policy and Terms of Service."

So that's it guys. Nuclear holocaust today. Quit your job and don't bother with that 10-day forecast.

My favorite part would have to be, "Hawkins has predicted a doomsday twice before." Once you miss that first one your credibility really begins to wane on those others. I wish him luck, though- third time's a charm, Hawky!

"The Pillars of the Earth" by Ken Follett

2008-04-21T20:35:00.000-07:00

Ken Follett's "The Pillars of the Earth" is an epic historical novel that spans a generation in mid to late 12th century. The novel chronicles the lives of several 'ordinary' people- not kings or popes or crusaders, but monks, stonemasons, and local landowners- as they all take part in the construction of a grand cathedral, one of the most monumental undertakings of the medieval world. In the end, the lives involved are as grand and sweeping as the spires of the cathedral around which they are centered.

This book sparked my imagination in many ways. The subject of cathedral-building has always fascinated me, but somehow I never knew it. When I toured the cathedrals of Spain I was always mystified by their enormity. Great trees of stone would rise out of the floor and extend into the distant ceiling. And into this surface, this infinite canvas of masonry, would be carved the most intricate works of art. My mind could not grasp how men with simple machines and no modern technology could erect such a structure.

Unfortunately, I never pursued the question. I appreciated the beauty of it all, but once I left the building it didn't occur to do some research or figure any of it out. But the novel goes into depth on the subjects of masonry and stonecarving. What the builders of the day lacked in technology they more than made up for in knowledge and passion. They knew stone- how to carve it, how to use it, how it behaved under pressure and weather and time. This combined with the passion to do something superhuman drove them literally to greater and greater heights. I am anxious for my next visit to a cathedral, for I will now see it in a new and even more wondrous light.

I was also taken in very much the description of life in the Middle Ages. Even now, several days after I have turned the last page, I am still enchanted by the world of Kingsbridge and the way of life there. I had read about the harsh and violent reality of life in the Middle Ages in history textbooks, and I usually dismissed life in that era as terrible and virtually unlivable by today's standards.

But it wasn't unlivable. This is a fact because- get this- people lived those lives! What I took away from "The Pillars of the Earth", among many other things, was the fact that during some of the most violent, corrupt, and unfair times in Western history, people were living, loving, having children, and sharing their joys and pains with one another. It was a time when survival was never a certainty from day to day, yes, but for some that meant that every day alive was a joyful event. Every meal was a blessing because starvation was much closer than we know it to be today.

In this old world might made right, as the saying goes. Those who were the better swordsmen could look forward to rich lives, for they could kill and take whatever they wanted. Sometimes good men held a sword and checked the power of others, but even in these cases there were surely self-serving motives involved. Fairness was an idea for philosophers and holy men; it had no place in daily life. Those who decried the unfairness soon died, and those who lived in spite of it were tougher for having done so.

There is a lesson there, at least for me. We condemn any unfairness now with an air of enlightenment (although for many 'enlightenment' merely means killing and taking in a more covert and acceptable manner). Every once in a while I see or hear of people who demand that nothing bad happen to them on the basis that it would be unfair, and nobody should be treated unfairly. They take this view as a sort of cover-all. The truth is it takes courage to live in a world that is inherently unfair, and it takes character to treat other people fairly in spite of it. Those two characteristics will probably take you the farthest, because, now as in the Middle Ages, there is little or nothing protecting you from the cruelties of the world except for yourself.

As usual, however, I digress. The fact that the story arouses all of these thoughts and feelings in me goes to show the remarkable job Ken Follett does crafting his characters and telling their stories. For a short time (or perhaps not so short, depending on how long it takes you to read a thousand-page novel) you live with them, fall in love with them, share their pain with them, and die with them. The book takes you away; can you ask for anything more?

To Keri- great Christmas gift! Thank you!

Where my servers at?

2008-03-24T13:31:00.000-07:00

Preach on, man, preach on.
Music Video: “Tip Yo Waiter”

"Slaughterhouse-Five" by Kurt Vonnegut

2008-03-17T12:59:00.000-07:00

Not since Slaughterhouse-Three has master of horror Kurt Vonnegut come out with something so diabolical.

Kidding.

I had been curious about "Slaughterhouse-Five" long before I read it, flipping through a few pages while browsing at Barnes & Noble or even watching about ten minutes of the 1972 movie- only ten minutes because it's a very confusing plot if you don't know what's going on from the beginning. I'd read reviews or descriptions saying that it was, in a nutshell, a humorous anti-war book with touches of science fiction and philosophy. But what finally prompted me to pick it up and read it was a recent episode of LOST in which one of the characters becomes "unstuck in time", an idea borrowed directly from Vonnegut's book.

Becoming unstuck in time is exactly what happens to Billy Pilgrim. The idea behind it is that while we imagine time to be a linear sequence of events, we are actually just living out moments in a cycle to be repeated over and over again. Billy Pilgrim, instead of living his moments consecutively, jumps from one to another at random- at one point he is a young man in World War II, and the next he is an married and attending his daughter's wedding.

While Pilgrim is jumping about in time I thought a lot about how fate and free will would be affected by time being a cycle, going in a loop. If everything returns from whence it came, do we have any choice about where we're going? Can we affect it? Billy Pilgrim can't, and he seems to accept it pretty easily. As he goes from watching the horrors of the Dresden fire-bombing of WWII to more relaxed years of old age and family life and even his death, he seems to just be along for the ride.

Death, in fact, is probably the most interestingly handled idea in the book. After every mention of death- from the death of a dog, to genocide and mass murder, to individual deaths of soldiers, to even the main character's own death- is the phrase, "So it goes." Every death in the book seems even and inevitable, and with that simple phrase, okay.

The book's strong anti-war message is probably best described in a part of the story when, due to his unfixed position in time, Billy Pilgrim watches a war movie in reverse. It is the most direct imagery in the book, and it was also beautiful, in a way. If you only read a small part of this already short novel, I'd recommend that one.

Good Men

2008-02-10T19:58:00.000-08:00

Lt. Weinberg: Why do you like them so much?

Galloway: Because they stand up on a wall and say, "Nothing's going to hurt you tonight, not on my watch."

- A Few Good Men

My thoughts are with my brother, and with everyone standing on that wall.

"The New Theology"

2008-01-20T20:14:00.000-08:00

I read an article in today’s Chicago Tribune magazine called, “The New Theology”. The article’s topic was a class of scientist-theologians, people who have studied the intricacies and science of the natural world and saw overwhelming evidence that their religious beliefs were, at best, incorrect. They looked at evolution and didn’t see the careful, guiding hand of a god but saw instead the erratic, random influence of genetics, mutation, and adaptation. They saw that these views could not both be true. Evolution and science withstood tests of logic, reasoning, and physical evidence, but long-held religious beliefs no longer did. An example of one of the major discrepancies noted in the article is that, “if God designed every last element of life, that makes him minutely responsible for nature’s cruelty and failures as well as its beauty.” This sits well neither as theology nor science. As Jerry Coyne of the U. of C. is quoted in the article as saying, “… the only God worth believing in is one whom modern science has deemed implausible.” However, instead of abandoning their religion entirely (as many scientists have done) these “new theologians” changed the one thing that was in their power to change: their view of “God”.

The idea of changing a deity’s role in nature and creation is a fascinating one, with some pretty far-reaching implications for the religious. The article’s author, Jeremy Manier, did a great job of balancing the article between the religious and the secular, exploring both viewpoints thoroughly and, as far as I could tell, without bias. This is no easy task, considering the polar nature of the controversy. Several worthy points were brought up and they’ve been simmering in my brain all day.

A very interesting notion came up in this article, one that I’ve seen in many other writings discussing the gap between believers and atheists. It is the idea that both believers and atheists agree on what a god should be. From the article:
“For both camps, the only God who makes sense is one who designed all life with exquisite attention to detail.”
It is this fact that makes it difficult to label the debate a theological one. The major debate of what God should be like is moot. It almost seems as if some people believe in a god for the very same reasons that others do not, if that makes any sense.

More interesting still is the idea of changing one’s conception of a deity so that it can be reconciled with one’s point of view- whether that view be scientific or emotional or what have you. The idea of an all-powerful, all-knowing god is being viewed through every believer’s personal prism, and is apparently open to interpretation by that person. Some sources put the number of Christians in the world at around 2 billion. They may think that they are all believing the same god, but are they? There could be 2 billion versions of god in hearts and minds all over the world. Is everybody’s interpretation correct? Is nobody’s interpretation correct? I bring this up in order to say that if belief in god can be changed to fit the facts, than maybe we’re closer than we think to doing away with him altogether.

As I said, the article was well-balanced and as a source of information and public opinion it had a responsibility to be so. On a personal note, however, I find I have much more respect for someone who questions his faith, finds the answers in conflict with that faith, and is able to make the often difficult change within himself- not a change designed to indulge the things that he hopes are real, but to embrace and carry with him those things which are real, that which is evident to him. A person, in other words, who is able to set aside his hopes and fears in favor of the truth.