Gypsy Scholar

On the frontlines "of this great Argument" -- finding myself among the New Milton Critics!

2012-01-31T05:11:00.001+09:00

There may be some interesting consequences stemming from my recent publication in the Milton Quarterly, for I suspect that I'll be perceived as having placed myself squarely in the camp of the New Milton Critics. Who are they? Three days ago, I couldn't have told you, but here's what they have to say for themselves:

The New Milton Criticism seeks to emphasize ambivalence and discontinuity in Milton's work and interrogate the assumptions and certainties in previous Milton scholarship. Contributors to the volume move Milton's open-ended poetics to the centre of Milton studies by showing how analysing irresolvable questions -- religious, philosophical and literary critical -- transforms interpretation and enriches appreciation of his work. The New Milton Criticism encourages scholars to embrace uncertainties in his writings rather than attempt to explain them away. Twelve critics from a range of countries, approaches and methodologies explore these questions in these new readings of Paradise Lost and other works. Sure to become a focus of debate and controversy in the field, this volume is a truly original contribution to early modern studies.

Among the New Milton Critics are Peter C. Herman, Elizabeth Sauer, Richard Strier, John Rogers, Judith Scherer Herz, Michael Bryson, Christopher D'Addario, Shannon Miller, Thomas Festa, Jeffrey Shoulson, William Kolbrener, and Joseph Wittreich, for these scholars contributed to the volume pictured above. I know several of them from the Milton List and also recognize the names of others from my acquaintance with Milton scholarship. I simply didn't realize that these trees made up a forest. I suppose I'm now perceived as a sapling on the perimeter. From the passage quoted above, I can see that I have some things in common. Like these scholars, I read Milton with a focus on "uncertainties in his writings," but unlike these same scholars, my approach to the uncertainties is to "attempt to explain them away," if possible. I don't embrace the uncertainties. I'm certainly no deconstructionist. I see the uncertainties -- or better, the contradictions -- as problems for Milton's great argument, and I think that he was aiming for logical coherence without entirely achieving it. But I know that I'll now be forever misunderstood as a New Milton Critic. Why? Here in the concluding sentence of my Milton Quarterly article -- immediately following my half-ironic remarks on Satan's necessary role in resolving an antinomy in Paradise Lost -- is why:

Milton has told us that his "great Argument" (1.24) does indeed "justifie the wayes of God to men" (1.26), but surely Milton did not intend a felix culpa, even if one might entertain destabilizing doubt at such contradictory complications . . . though merely sketching out the uncertain ramifications of such as these would go far beyond this brief essay and into realms of incertitude and ambiguity explored by Peter Herman, among others (cf. Sauer 15n1).

The citation is of Elizabeth Sauer in her "Introduction: The Art of Criticism," from Milton and the Climates of Reading: Essays by Balachandra Rajan (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2006), which Sauer also edited. Concluding in this manner would seem to put my stamp of approval on the New Milton Critics -- among whom Sauer belongs (see list of scholars above) -- though I was in fact implicitly thanking Peter Herman for reading my article as I reworked it and offering his useful advice about seeking out primary sources from the 16th and 17th centuries to make my point about such terms as "cropt" and "uncropt." No one other than Peter would recognize this implicit thank-you note, of course, but there's more. Peter Herman also has an article published in the same issue of the Milton Quarterly, and it immediately follows my own -- mine thus appearing to introduce his -- and launches into a spirited defense of the New Milton Criticism through a strong offensive attack on an apparently polemical opponent:

I am not going to tax the reader's patience by repeating John Milton's mistake in Eikonoklastes and giving a tedious, point-by-point rebuttal of every single statement David Urban makes in his recent diatribe against the New Milton Criticism.

I finished reading Peter's counter-critique and then sent him an email:

I just yesterday received my copy of December's Milton Quarterly, and I learned of the heated debate between David Urban and the New Milton Critics. Wow! I've only read your article but will get to those of Wittreich and Strier soon.

There is some unintended irony in the concluding sentence of my article, which immediately precedes your own, in that my positive reference to your work on doubt, contradiction, incertitude, and ambiguity would appear to have been intended as an introduction to your article -- and the two that follow. I wonder if I will face consequences . . .

Peter quickly replied:

I was also very pleased by the happy circumstance of the last line of your article leading into mine. That [plus other things] . . . makes this the NMC issue of MQ, I think.

I strongly suspect that Peter's right. This issue of the Milton Quarterly will be seen as the New Milton Critics' issue, and scholars will infer that I've placed myself squarely within that camp.

Oh, well, all publicity is good publicity . . .

Paul Berman on Václav Havel's "screwy ideas"

2012-01-30T07:20:00.001+09:00

Václav Havel

The New Republic

The New Republic has an article on one of the political figures I most respect by one of the journalists I most respect, Paul Berman's "Democracy and the Human Heart: Václav Havel, 1936-2011" (January 26, 2012). Both are practical men who take -- or, in Havel's case, took -- ideas seriously. Oddly enough, Havel's seriously meant remarks about God could sound rather loopy, as in his musings to Berman during a 1997 interview:

A new god, he told me, would most likely be abstract and multicultural -- a god who brought together Allah, Buddha, Christ, and so on.

Berman himself refers to Havel's "screwy ideas" on a multicultural god, and even though Berman cites one of Havel's advisors as having used this expression to describe the concept, he doesn't appear to reject the label. Multicultural deities aside, why was Havel interested in such theistic views at all? Berman offers an intriguing explanation:

Now that he has died, I think I see the pertinence of this last and fuzziest of ideas a little more clearly. Havel was frightened by atheism. In his eyes, communism was atheism's apotheosis. Communism led everyone to focus on material circumstances and to dream of improving the circumstances, and to dream of nothing else. For why should anyone dream of anything more than material improvements? More does not exist. Such was atheism's message. To pine for a new automobile made sense, but there was no point in contemplating the state of your soul.

Communist despotism in the "post-totalitarian" period depended on people drawing this kind of distinction -- between the reality of material things and the non-reality of things having to do with the soul or with Being. So long as everyone adhered to materialist principles, the Central Committee could get along without firing squads. The regime stayed in power merely by manipulating the distribution of products and privileges. You wanted a Skoda? You mumbled the communist slogans, and you avoided mumbling anything else, and after a few years of reliable obedience your own name would ascend to the top of the waiting list, and -- oh greatest of all conceivable joys! -- a Skoda would be yours.

To counter this materialist atheism, Havel sought a useful language:

The whole point of his multiculti god was to look for a spiritual language that was not going to be tied to any particular religion, and therefore could address everyone. Then again, he did not want to leave everything in the hands of the multiculti god, either . . .

Even if he didn't say so, Havel may, like me, have found theism nearly as frightening as atheism, for even prior to 2001, in an address to the US Congress in 1990, Havel said:

"For this reason, the salvation of this human world lies nowhere else than in the human heart, in the human power to reflect, in human humbleness, and in human responsibility."

Or, as glossed by Berman:

You have got to think for yourself, in short.

Berman then offers a fitting tribute to Havel that shows how the man's 'screwy metaphysical ideas' led him to greatness, and there's an interesting irony Berman notes:

Religious ideas are usually said to be an argument against what is called "relativism," or the idea that nothing in particular should be regarded as absolutely important. In one respect, though, the ideas that Havel liked to entertain did promote a kind of relativism, and this was in regard to his own life. If you think there is something more, a Being or transcendental something-or-other that goes beyond your own material existence, your own life is bound to end up seeming, by way of comparison, humbler, therefore easier to put at risk. Havel seems to have understood pretty clearly that his own life was not the greatest of all possible values. In 1983, when they carried him off in handcuffs to the prison hospital because he had refused to request a pardon -- at that particular moment his lungs had trouble breathing but his brain seems to have had no trouble recognizing that his own continued place on earth was not his highest goal. If he had come to a different recognition, would the rest of his life have spoken to us as eloquently as it does? He was one of the greatest and most heroic figures of modern times, or maybe of all time, but he was a great and heroic figure because his own thinking gave him the courage to risk not being anything at all.

This reminds me of a lengthy conversation that I recently had with a friend over coffee. We were discussing the big issues. God. Values. Mortality. Civilizations. Not in any particular order. He noted that he would fight for his values. I asked why. "Because they are mine." The conversation took a twist at that point, so I didn't get an opportunity to pursue that a bit further, but the next question, clearly, is this: "Would you fight for them to the death?" There has to be a sense in which my values are worth defending beyond the fact that they are mine. If that is all, mere possession, then why not trade those values in for other values if one's life is at stake? Surely my life is more important to me than my possessions, for without life, I possess nothing. The fact that one would be willing to die in defense of one's values implies that one places the values above one's own life, which means that one holds these values to be transcendent, and that they therefore give life meaning even after one is gone.

Havel seems to have thought so, anyway, and his screwy ideas made his life of lasting value.

Paradise Lost: "Fruit Uncropt and Fruit Cropt"

2012-01-29T06:09:00.001+09:00

Milton Quarterly Logo

Wiley-Blackwell Website

Yesterday, I was pleased to see that the Saturday mail service here in Seoul (actual delivery on Saturdays?) had brought my copy of the Milton Quarterly. I don't really have a subscription, but I was expecting to receive a copy because I've had an article published in it, "Fruit Uncropt and Fruit Cropt: Unnoticed Wordplay in Paradise Lost?" (Milton Quarterly, Volume 45, Number Four, December 2011, pages 252-257). Here's the opening paragraph:

In Paradise Lost 4.724-35, Adam and Eve together praise the creator for their happy love and his abundant blessings, which include the gift of trees bearing fruit that "uncropt falls to the ground" (4.731), and the innocent pair request offspring to share that fruitful abundance. Ostensibly in tension with this are the words of Eve in Book 9, for she there remarks on the many trees with "Fruit untoucht, / Still hanging incorruptible" (621-22), awaiting the hands of offspring yet unborn. The apparent contradiction between the words implying that unplucked fruit falls to the ground from the trees of paradise and that unplucked fruit hangs potentially forever on the boughs of those same trees also serves to bring into focus another apparent contradiction. In the prelapsarian garden, into which death has not yet entered, why should any fruit fall to the ground? Would that not imply death and decay? And what of the plucked fruit's uneaten portions? Are these tossed onto some prelapsarian 'compost' heap? Let us investigate this complex issue. (page 252)

If that interests you -- and it probably does not -- then rush over to the Wiley-Blackwell Website and order a copy! Some folks will be interested, I reckon, since the scholar Gordon Campbell, who edits Renaissance Studies, says, "If you want to publish to be READ, write for the Milton Quarterly." At the very least, I suppose Professor Campbell will read my article.

But even if not, I'm enjoying the rare pleasure of publishing an article in what is arguably the top Milton journal in the world.

Ozark Spring House: Mild, Rainy Winter Day

2012-01-28T06:43:00.001+09:00

Ozark Spring House

Cloudland Journal of Tim Ernst

January 27, 2012

Whenever I need my Ozark fix -- which is every morning -- I click over to the website maintained by Ozark photographer Tim Ernst and spend some time contemplating his latest photographs. This morning in Seoul is January 28th, but since Arkansas lies on the back side of the International Dateline, Mr. Ernst must have posted this update of January 27th only some hours ago, though the picture was taken a couple of days earlier. The Ozarks had gotten a bit of rain, apparently, so the Buffalo River Valley had hundreds of waterfalls pouring off its bluffs. Mr. Ernst had gone out to take pictures and also took one of this small spring house directly beside a tiny waterfall:

It rained all day Wednesday, but I was able to sneak out for a couple hours in the afternoon with camera and tripod to visit a couple of nearby waterfalls. I have been unable to get enough [photographs] of the [small waterfall alongside this] little spring house in Boxley, and it only runs well during flooded times for a few hours, so I stopped there first and spent some time with this old friend. There were a few raindrops coming down but nothing too bad. I just love the look and texture of the smooth stones they used for this little building, also the lush moss-covered little bluffline right next to it, and of course the splashing waterfall in between.

Boxley is a small Arkansas village on the upper Buffalo River, and I'm guessing that this is an old spring house from which the locals used to get their water, back in former days. The spring itself -- seen emerging from the pipe in the lower part of the above photo -- surely runs year round. Only the miniature waterfall requires rainy weather to run. Below is a close-up of the falls.

I find these two images so peaceful to gaze at, especially the upper one, with the full stone structure in view. In my younger days, I believed that I'd make my way back to the Ozarks after my worldly adventures, but in my case, Thomas Wolfe seems to have been right, for I likely won't be going home again, not to live, anyway. I guess Seoul is my home now, and I'm getting to know this great city of Asia, but I do need my Ozarks, if only in snapshots, so I'm glad that a man like Tim Ernst is around, daily taking photographs in the Ozark Mountains of Northern Arkansas.

I encourage others to visit his website and look around . . .

The Polyglot Alexander Arguelles: Living on "unemployment checks and Korean translation work"

2012-01-27T06:05:00.000+09:00

Alexander Arguelles

Wikipedia

In a book review by Peter Constantine for the NYT, "The Art of Mastering Many Tongues" (January 20, 2012), we learn of Michael Erard's search for true language virtuosos, genuine polyglots who have mastered multiple languages, a quest that Erard writes about in Babel No More and that led him to Berkeley, as Constantine informs us:

One polyglot . . . [whom Erard] meets, Alexander Arguelles, who lives in Berkeley "on unemployment checks and Korean translation work," shows that anyone who hopes to achieve fluency in more than six languages must dedicate himself to the task rigorously -- in fact almost exclusively. Arguelles keeps his languages in shape by subjecting himself to an unforgiving schedule, keeping spreadsheets that record the hours and minutes he spends on each one. Arguelles "tracks his linguistic progress through the hours as saints once cataloged their physical self-sacrifices," Erard writes. Of 4,454 hours of language study Arguelles did over a period of 456 days, he spent 456 hours on his native language, English, and also 456 on Arabic, and then a descending number of hours on the remaining 50 languages on his spreadsheet. Though his learning techniques may seem strange, they also appear to be effective. In one, called "shadowing," students listen to language recordings on a portable player while briskly walking in a public place, gesticulating energetically as they shout out the foreign words and phrases they are listening to. Though one is bound to make a spectacle of oneself, this technique seems to help the beginner shed some of the self-consciousness connected with speaking a foreign language.

That's the very man in the photo above. Our globe-trekking paths have crossed, apparently, both of us having spent time in Berkeley. Arguelles is probably joking about the unemployment checks, for Wikipedia shows him more gainfully employed than that. He may have good advice for language learning, but I don't intend to take him up on shadowing. If I tried that technique here in Seoul to work on Korean -- "walking in a public place, gesticulating energetically . . . [and] shout[ing] out . . . [Korean] words and phrases" -- I'd be committed to an asylum . . . by my wife! Not that such a fate would necessarily be much different than the mad life I already lead, confined here in the bedlam called Seoul.

I wonder if Arguelles used his shadowing technique here in Korea. Wikipedia refers to his "his years of residence in South Korea," during which he studied "a wide range of languages." A citation is supplied that leads to a biographical entry by Dr. Arguelles in which Wikipedia's information is confirmed:

In order to live . . . [in Korea], I obtained a faculty position at Handong University on the eastern coast of the country. This university had only been founded the year before, and they needed somebody to develop and lead a foreign language program, so my initial duties were to teach French, Spanish, and German . . . . [To] get down to serious language study . . . . Handong . . . was exactly what I needed . . . , for the campus was on an isolated hill amidst pine and bamboo forests and rice fields with a view of the Pacific Ocean from my back porch. Furthermore, it soon became clear that, while the university was recruiting foreign faculty to give it international stature, we were viewed as outsiders and thus completely shut out of the administrative decision making process. Other people found this intolerable and soon left, but I turned the situation on its head by reasoning that as my sole duty was to teach languages, I could devote myself entirely to their study on my own . . . . Initially, of course, I focused on Korean and, after I got grounded, on Classical Chinese and Japanese in a comparative context. However, I also ranged very widely through the world of languages . . . . This period came to a close when I belatedly sat down with a calculator and did some serious time management projections. Developing structural knowledge and conversational ability in a language and refining and maintaining that ability can be achieved with just 15 or 20 minutes a day, each and every day, over a period of years. However, developing deeper knowledge and above all enjoying reading the literature of a language requires more like an hour a day, and there are all too few of these . . . . I . . . began to allow myself to simply enjoy reading in my more familiar ones. I also began to "get a life" by getting married, siring a son, and paying more attention to my career by writing and publishing more . . . . [I know many languages, but] in a class all by itself, there is Korean. I lived in its land for nine years, and when I left I took it with me personified in my wife. I have published numerous reference works about it and produced scholarly translations of it, and I have proven time and again that I can handle any situation life throws at me in it, and yet -- there is still so much I do not know.

Our paths truly have crossed! He seems to have been more successful, however, particularly in learning Korean. If he used his shadowing technique in Korea, I suppose Handong's isolation made that practice more comfortable.

But I'm almost motivated to again attempt learning Korean since Arguelles insists that mastering the tongue is mainly just a matter of hard work.

Almost . . .

The Ironic Pitfalls of a Public Intellectual: Niall Ferguson on the the Blight of Divorce and Illegitimacy

2012-01-26T05:51:00.001+09:00

Niall Ferguson and Hirsi Ali

(Image from Daily Mail)

Some readers will recall the above photo from my snarky post from March 2, 2010 that parodied Ferguson's chaos theory on foreign affairs by applying it to the chaotic breakup of his own marriage, but I'll let you read that on your own.

I draw attention to that post now only because I see from William Skidelsky's Guardian article of a year later, "Niall Ferguson: 'Westerners don't understand how vulnerable freedom is'" (February 20, 2011), that Ferguson dislikes public attention focused on his private life:

I ask whether Ferguson has been surprised by the reaction their relationship provoked, the gossipy articles and so forth. His tone changes again and he suddenly sounds angry. "I was nauseated. Just nauseated. It makes me quite ashamed to be part of a culture that regards the private life of a professor as something that should be in the paper. It's just so tawdry . . . . making public things that should be private. It's a prurience that I've never understood. I don't give a monkey's about the so-called celebrities that they write about. But the idea that my private life should be the subject of articles I find deeply, deeply infuriating. Because there's absolutely no way to control or resist that process unless you're very rich, which I'm not.

Given his dislike of such attention, I'm relieved that Ferguson isn't rich! But as a public figure of such prominence, he has to expect attention. Moreover, marriage and divorce are not merely private affairs, as he himself knows, for these issues come up in a recent Newsweek article by Ferguson, "Rich America, Poor America" (January 16, 2012), in which he calls upon Americans to harken back to the traditional American values:

[W]e should pin our faith on the four traditional pillars of the American way of life: family, vocation, community, and faith . . . . But can there really be a way back to an America in which divorce and illegitimacy are almost unknown and wholly deplored? An America in which nearly everyone can find fulfillment in hard work? An America in which whole neighborhoods are bound together by ties of trust and voluntary association? An America in which half the population goes to church every Sunday?

In writing such words, Ferguson surely cannot be unaware of their irony in his case, for his own marriage broke up over his affair with Hirsi Ali, with whom he has just recently had a child (December 2011), a baby boy who only barely escaped illegitimacy because Ferguson married Ali in September 2011, when she would have been five or six months pregnant. Divorce or illegitimacy . . . sometimes, one has to choose, I guess.

I'm not judging, merely noting the irony, given Ferguson's own words. In general, I'm an admirer of the views espoused by both him and Ali, and I wish them happiness in what I hope will be a long, successful life together.

Terrance Lindall and the Death of Art . . .

2012-01-25T06:04:00.003+09:00

Lindall and Coyotes

Williamsburg Circle

International Arts and Letters

This image reminds me of that Simpsons Halloween episode that parodies Damon Knight's story "To Serve Man."

I imagine the title of what Lindall is so peacefully reading, The Death of Art, to actually state -- once the dust is blown away -- The Death of Artist, thereby putting Lindall in danger, except that when more dust is blown away, the title reads The Death of Artistry, to our partial relief, but another puff of breath dispells more dust and previous misunderstanding, for the title now reads The Death of Artistry and All Artists -- to our alarm -- till yet another puff reveals The Death of Artistry and All Artists are Secure, gladdening us once more, but a sudden, stiff draft uncovers The Death of Artistry and All Artists are Secured in Cages, again alarming, but another whiff shows us The Death of Artistry and All Artists are Secured in Cages for Protection, thank God, but on and on it goes, world without end . . .

Moral: "Artists: ever threatened, never cowed . . . not even by coyotes."

Fine Print: Though large Brahman bulls might leave them a bit cowed . . .

Poetry Break: "The Love Song of Hamel the Mammal"

2012-01-24T05:49:00.001+09:00

René Magritte

The Lovers

Love is Blind Unless Transactional!

Over at the Marmot's Hole blog, folks are arguing about prostitution, and one of the regulars there, Hamel, commented:

All human relationships are transactional. They continue only as long and to the extent that both parties preceive some sense of value from them. This is true of sex in a marriage, an FWB [i.e., friends with benefits] relationship, or sex-for-sale.

I disagreed, and replied:

I think that prostitution ought to be legal, though I also consider it a demeaning type of human relationship, but you get what you pay for, I guess. I don't think the transactional model accounts for all kinds of human relationships. As Sperwer implied, we're born into some -- a web of relationships that we never chose to have. Nor do I think that falling in love fits the paradigm of a transaction. Nor do men and women interact in ways that are entirely reducible to transactions. Here's an example. Around 1990 in Berkeley, a disturbed Iranian man entered a restaurant and pulled a gun with which he effectively held the entire staff and clientele hostage. One of his demands was that the men present offer to die in place of every woman present. Each man had a choice: The woman dies, or you do. Every man present chose to take a woman's place. Why? Transactional? A dead man gains nothing. Maybe some of those men were taking a date out for dinner and hoping to score later that night if they spent enough money, but they suddenly found themselves confronted by a choice they'd not included in their calculations, a choice that demanded they act on their deepest values and potentially pay the ultimate price. Sociobiologists might explain this by some variant of their transactional model, but I'd wager they’re explaining the phenomenon away rather than explaining it in a meaningful way.

In case anyone's curious how the story turned out . . . a SWAT team (or equivalent) managed to infiltrate the restaurant and take the culprit out before he shot anyone.

After a bit of thought, I decided that I needed more precision from Hamel, so I posted:

Hamel, maybe we need to start more simply. What do you mean by "transaction"? I'd assumed some sort of reductive economic model because the discussion began with the economic transaction of sex for money, something that sociobiologists would further reduce to biological imperatives.

I thus need to know what you mean by the term "transaction."

Hamel replied:

[B]y transaction I mean that each party receives something of value from the relationship that they want. This can be an emotional value, a religious value, a moral value, an economic value, a reputational value, a networking value, or any number of other things. When one or both members of the relationship no longer feel they are getting the same value, the relationship may fade away, break off sudenly, or need to be redefined.

Relationships where sex is involved have very interesting transactions going on. And sometimes there is a direct economic benefit.

In response to this, I wrote:

"[B]y transaction I mean that each party receives something of value from the relationship that they want."

This is a very broad understanding of "transaction," for "value" could mean almost anything according to your examples, but even so, not all human interactions are transactions according to this definition. Rape is a type of human interaction, but I can't see how a woman receives anything of value from it.

But even for cases in which each partner is obtaining something of value, I don't think that "transaction" necessarily exhausts the meaning of a human interaction. I would argue that a transactional analysis of love diminishes it.

Imagine falling in love with a woman and that the love is mutual and requited. However, in a postcoital moment of mental abstraction (for which you would never forgive yourself), you needlessly explain your view of love as a transaction. Your lover becomes offended by such a crass view that reduces her love to a negotiation.

"So, I’m no better than a prostitute!" she exclaims.

She then gets up, dresses, and leaves you lying there in a state of postcoital tristesse. You try to tell yourself, "Oh, well, if she can't accept my view of love as a transaction, then she wasn't the right one for me since she couldn't supply that value."

But your own words ring hollow even to you, for you really loved her, and for the rest of your life, you live with regret, forever caught between an abstract 'truth' you stated and an emotional truth you could have lived . . .

But I gave the issue a bit more thought and decided that a poem could make my point in a more effective manner:

The Love Song of Hamel the Mammal

My love thought my love from above,
Each time we engaged in love's action.
But I told the truth to my love:
"We’re really engaged in transaction."

My love took offense at the truth.
"But I thought you true-loved me!" she cried,
Got up and just left me, forsooth,
And my love unaccountably died!

My life thus has value no more,
Nothing left to negotiate now.
So treat not your love as a whore;
Rather swear a by-heaven-held vow!

Such truth oh too late learnéd I,
And caught fast in regret lies my soul.
Far better had been it to lie
With my love untransacted but whole.

And there it is, finally, today's poetry break . . .

Student Thank-You Note With Sketch

2012-01-23T06:45:00.003+09:00

Magpie

A student from this past winter session of 2011-2012 left an impressive thank-you note in my mailbox on Thursday after the final exam:

Professor Hodges,

I just wanted to thank you for teaching me this winter semester. I really enjoyed every class and appreciate it.

Also, have a nice [lunar] new year holiday! I drew a magpie 'specially for you. In Korea, magpies are believed to bring good luck, so I hope this drawing leads you to lots of happy moments!

Thank you again for the class, and happy 2012.

- from Chaewon -

That's a nice note, and an astonishingly delicate sketch of a magpie! The beak appears more hooked than on any magpie I've ever seen, but I've not seen all varieties of this bird, which apparently (for what it's worth) is classified according to two different families, Corvidae and Artamidae.

As for why the course was so much fun . . . I can't pin down precisely. But one thing that I did differently this go-around in the course was to dedicate more class time to essay writing. I had the students re-write their essays in class and pair up with peer-partners to assist in proofreading their work. This also gave me time to offer individual advice on essays, and I could see that my students appreciated that.

I also took some time off from arduous classwork to teach them some songs -- "Fan It," "That's How I Got My Start," and "Green-Eyed Lady" -- which they seemed to enjoy greatly. One student even told me that the song "Fan It" had been running through her head all weekend, and she meant that as a compliment. She later told me that she had "loved this class."

These are the best remarks that I've received thus far in my experience as a teacher, so I must be doing something right after all this time. Like Thomas Pynchon, I'm a slow learner.

Anyway, if I do receive the good luck wished for me by Chaewon, I hope that the good fortune is concentrated upon my teaching, that I will continue to improve as a good teacher . . .

Kuwaiti Prince Abdullah al-Sabah Converts to Christianity?

2012-01-22T08:14:00.001+09:00

Website Logo

File this one under the "Interesting If True" heading. In a recent issue of the Vatican Insider (January 16, 2012), Marco Tosatti reports on "Kuwait: The prince's mysterious conversion," informing us that "a Kuwaiti royal prince has become a follower of Jesus Christ" and has posted the affirmation in an audio file using his full name, Abdullah al-Sabah, on the Arabic Christian satellite TV channel al-Haqiqa, which transmits Christian religious programing:

In his audio file, Abdullah declared: "First of all, I fully agree with the distribution of this audio file and I now declare that if they kill me because of it, then I will appear before Jesus Christ and be with him for all eternity." In this statement, the prince demonstrates his awareness of the fate in store for a martyr of the faith, according to Christian doctrine. The television channel stated that Abdullah is a member of the royal family, and that he recently renounced his faith in Islam and became a Christian, without specifying which particular branch of Christianity he had chosen. After stating his full name, the prince declared: "I will accept whatever they do to me, because the truth in the Bible has guided me towards the right path."

This sounds like evangelical Christianity to me . . . except that it sounds more like a hoax, particularly since a Kuwaiti prince by the name of Azbi al-Sabah insists: "There's no one by that name in the Kuwaiti royal family." He could be lying about that, of course, but getting caught in a lie so easily checked leads me to think he's telling the truth. This doesn't rule out the possibility that Abdullah al-Sabah is a pseudonym taken on by a real convert to hide his true identity, though such would seem to contradict the reported audio. Anyway, if the reported conversion is genuine, we may be hearing more about this in the near future.

To this Kuwaiti report, Tosatti adds a bonus point about neighboring Iran and the growth of Christianity there, a worrisome issue for Iran's theocratic Shi'ite state, leading the Iranian authorities to utter typically paranoid statements:

After Heidar Moslehi, the Iranian intelligence minister, asked Muslim seminaries to become proactive in stopping the spread of Christianity, a high-ranking cleric declared that Evangelical Christianity is the most horrifying intelligence and security organisation in the world. This statement seems to have appeared on press agencies close to the Revolutionary Guard.

In a conference on "New Age cults" held in Varamin, a district south of Teheran, Akhond Mohsen Alizadeh declared: "We should not allow these cults to question Islamic jurisprudence under the cover of mysticism." He went on to add: "They tell the youth that God is wrathful and horrible in Islam but is love in Christianity. Also, Christian preachers answer the questions and doubts of youth in their own interest and try to attract them." Nevertheless a whole series of signs seem to indicate that non-traditional Christianity -- there are Catholics and Orthodox Christians in Iran as well as a large Armenian community -- is spreading. The regime's press recently spoke of them with concern and the number of cases of repression and condemnation following conversions is growing.

By "non-traditional Christianity," Tosatti means evangelicalism, which includes pentacostalism, a variant on evangelical Christianity that seems to appeal to a lot of individuals outside of the West. If these folks make up "the most horrifying intelligence and security organisation in the world," then I can only conclude that the Holy Ghost must be involved in espionage, which rather fits the insider lingo that refers to spies as "spooks"!

Spooky indeed, but with God of their side, meaning that on the side of the Iranian theocratic state is . . .

The NoZe Comes Knocking

2012-01-21T06:50:00.001+09:00

NoZe Logo

The Noble NoZe Brotherhood of the Universe, Inc. -- a satirical fraternity of funnymen at Baylor University who dress up in tuxedos and Groucho Marx noses and go by such pseudonyms as Brother AgNoZetic (my own moniker) to remain anonymous while still attending school -- must be in decline.

Why?

Whaddaya mean, "Why?"

Oh, wait . . . that was my own, rhetorical question. Must've had a senior moment. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. I was asking "Why?" I meant why do I say the NoZe is in decline? Well, because the current Noble NoZe Disorganization has implicitly recognized its unfortunate inability to judge the quality of its own satire, for the NoZe Brothers in charge of editing The Rope -- erstwhile parody of Baylor's student paper, The Lariat -- have apparently had the official editor send proofs of The Rope via e-list to us Brothers-in-Exile, asking us to check the quality of their humor:

Hello, exiles.

Here is [an attachment of] the latest copy of the award-winning Rope. It's not 100% done, but almost. I'd really appreciate any advice, edits, or any amount of funny you still possess to make it a little better.

I didn't vote for any of you,

Bro. Edgar Allen NoZe

I took this request very seriously -- even though Bro. Edgar Allen NoZe never used his power of transcending space and time to visit 1976 and join the other Brothers in unanimously voting me into the Brotherhood -- so I did my utmost to help:

I haven't bothered to read the attachment, but I don't need to because I already know it's not funny. My advice (based on a close non-reading): make it funny . . . like it used to be, back in the glory days of '76-'79.

Brother AgNoZetic

Exiled Since '79

Another Brother-in-Exile -- albeit some whippersnapping young graduate of 2006 -- couldn't understand my plain English and commented:

Somehow, AgNoZetic misspelled "2003-2006." Can somehow check on him?

I skimmed the Rope, and my favorite thing is the bright colors and the many, many punctuation errors.

Enjoy finding them all . . .

This Exile wisely neglected to sign his NoZe name but did use an infidel surname that Beggs to be baptized into NoZe lingo. Let's therefore avoid his infidel name for anonymity's sake, but lest he get off entirely Scott-free, call him "BumNoZetic." Brother BumNoZetic fears for my orthographic wits and has thoughtfully asked an aquaintance he calls "Somehow" (albeit uncapitalized) to check on me. I expressed my gratitude:

Thanks for the thoughts well-meant, BumNoZetic, but '76-'79 is no error in spelling 2003-2006, rather an abbreviation for 1976-1979. What are they teaching at Baylor this new millenium? If a BU degree has declined this much in value, the parousia must be near!

Compensate Elmo,

Brother AgNoZetic

Brother BumNoZetic responded . . . if one can call this a response:

Leave the Grape ad intact. They'll love the millenniumalist lack of contact info.

I'll parousia the paper some more, but everything looks good.

Except the words . . .

It's almost as if he isn't talking to me. But I see that he picked up some new words from my email and attempted to use them without even the minimal effort of checking a dictionary. Just peruse what he's written, you'll see.

But enough of this brouhaha, for a real brew or two -- ha! ha! -- awaits me later today if I can just finish my more legitimate work . . .

Appreciative Note from a Student: Research on Jean Webster

2012-01-20T07:56:00.001+09:00

Daddy Longlegs

Wikipedia

I sometimes receive notes of appreciation from my Korean students. Such appreciation always goes beyond what I deserve, but it occasionally verges on the metaphysical. One student, who wrote a research paper during the Fall 2011 Semester on Jean Webster's famous novel Daddy-Long-Legs (1912), left me the following note just yesterday:

You are the first one [i.e., instructor] I'm writing to. First of all I want to express my gratitude to you. I really appreciate you. I owe you so much. You greatly helped me when I was goofing around from the first of the semester. I couldn't narrow down the right topic, I didn't know how to write a thesis statement, a proposal, works cited and I never knew how to google something to find information. Then you helped me to go through everything from A to Z. You told me how to come up with a specific topic, how to build a structure, how to google the resources, and how much I was surprised when you suddenly approached me and said "Spiderman: Daddy-Long-Legs as Ambiguous Benefactor -- that's your title."

That title always showed me the right direction when I was in a maze. While I was writing the thesis overtime [i.e., over time?], I couldn't help but think you Jeffery Hodges was [sic., "were"] ambiguous. Your first impression was scary somewhat, your eyes were so bright and straight like a pair of laser shots, you weren't sugar-coated, you weren't so funny but as time went by you turned out to be sooooooo generous daddy [sic., "such a generous 'daddy'"], always willing to help students, and sometimes even funny too! I believe you are also an ambiguous teacher. Are you Daddy-Long-Legs? You are NOT a spider and you are NOT strange Jervis Pendleton. Now I draw up a conclusion: you are an angel with a pair of laser shots . . .

Again, thank you very very much for teaching me academic writing. Now I have my own thesis. Actually I revised it a bit more and want to give it to you . . . .

Did I tell you I'll be an exchange student in State University of New York at Stony Brook this year? My adventure continues. I'm thrilled. Wish me luck.

After I come back to Ewha, I'd love to take [another of] your . . . class[es].

Thank you so much . . . .

An "angel"? Maybe a fallen one, but that gets us into Milton's territory, and we'd best stick to Jean Webster. Her novel -- in case you're unfamiliar with it -- is about an orphan girl (Jerusha "Judy" Abbott) who is given a college scholarship by an secretive benefactor (Jervis Pendleton), whom she calls "Daddy-Long-Legs" because she happened to glimpse his long-legged shadow. That's the reason offered by Jerusha, anyway, but I suggested to my student that this nickname might signify Jerusha's sense of an "ambiguity" in the benefactor's character since the nickname calls up an image of the identically named spider-like creature, spiders being the scary stuff of nightmares even if the arachnid known as daddy longlegs is less frightening in appearance than a true spider, and was sometimes considered beneficial by children (e.g., the game "Daddy Longlegs, Daddy Longlegs, where are the cows . . .").

Anyway, to assist in the search for secondary literature that might support an ambiguous reading of the novel, I directed the student to feminist articles, which I didn't doubt would supply more-than-adequate critiques of such a controlling figure as Daddy-Long-Legs. Those critical readings, combined with recognition of the benefactor's acts of generosity, filled in the details needed as evidence for an ambiguous reading -- and possibly a contribution to the critical literature on this novel.

Condoleezza Rice to Baylor Students on Career Choice, Footnote by Gene Autry

2012-01-19T04:13:00.001+09:00

Condoleezza Rice

Baylor Magazine

I see from my latest issue of Baylor Magazine (Winter 2011-12) -- a publication of my undergraduate alma mater -- that Ms. Condoleezza Rice, Secretary of State under President George W. Bush, visited Baylor University on November 9, 2011 for "On Topic" (video), a series of conversations about contemporary issues led by Baylor president Kenneth Starr, and among the interesting things that she imparted were a couple of related remarks about 'choosing' one's career:

You have to find something that you love to do, and I am very fortunate that I found what I was passionate about, even though I thought what I was passionate about was that I was going to be a concert pianist. I had studied music from the age of 3; I could read music before I could read. And I went off in the summer of my sophomore year to the Aspen Music Festival School, where a lot of prodigies studied. And I met 13 year olds who could play from sight everything that had taken me all year to learn; I was 17. And I thought, "I'm about to end up teaching 13 years olds to murder Beethoven or maybe playing at Nordstrom's, but I am not going to play at Carnegie Hall" . . . . I decided to look for another major. I took a course in international politics; it was taught by a Soviet specialist, and I loved it. And that's how I got interested in international politics. Once I found what I loved to do, my passion, I felt that I wanted to get good at it. So I learned to speak Russian, and I worked very hard. And then I found people who helped me along the way . . . . So that's why I'm blessed to be doing the things that I'm doing now, but it all started with finding something that I absolutely loved to do. So to you college students out there, . . . I just say one thing. When my students ask me, "How do I become like you?" -- in other words, "How do I become secretary of state?" -- I say, "You start as a failed piano major. Don't plan every step of your life. Life takes funny turns."

Later in the conversation, she picked up the same theme, referring back to the university course in international politics that set her on her life's course:

I took that course in international politics, and that was it. So to the students, I would say, if you have not yet found what you're passionate about, keep looking, number one. Secondly, if you're looking for it, you may feel that you're not ever going to find it, but it may find you, as international politics found me. Third, when you finally find it, go for it. And don't be deterred by those who might say, "You want to study what?" Because the idea that a black woman from Birmingham, Alabama, ought to be a Soviet specialist is pretty farfetched, right? Just because you look a particular way or you are a particular gender, don't let anybody define your passion for you on that basis . . . . [F]ind somebody who's interested in your career. We have a strange idea that your role model has to look like you. Now, if I had been waiting for a black, woman, Soviet-specialist role model, I'd still be waiting. My role models, and actually my mentors were white men; in fact, old white men, because those were the people who were in my field. So just find somebody who is interested in you. It doesn't matter what they look like.

Pretty good advice, I think. I followed some of her suggestions in advance, but my biggest career flaw has been my radical, intemperate independence. One needs mentors to serve as guides, I now realize, and that never suited my temperament. My convoluted career, however, has taken me unexpected places. As the lady says, "Life takes funny turns." And it ain't through twisting around yet, I suppose.

I wouldn't want life's funny turns to take me on a 'twisted' career of the sort described below, however (and apologies for being unable to find an audio):

That's How I Got My Start

Gene Autry

When I grew up to be a man, I said I'd work no more.
But dad took me by the pants and kicked me out the door.
It's not because I'm lucky; it's not because I'm smart.
My old man said, "Get out, you bum!" That's how I got my start.
Yo-duh-lay-dee, yuh-lay-dee, dee-duhl-dee-dee . . .

One time I did try working. My wages they were fair.
On payday, I got tipsy, then I got the air.
It's not because I'm lucky; it's not because I'm smart.
I drink a lot of moonshine; that's how I got my start.
Yo-duh-lay-dee, yuh-lay-dee, dee-duhl-dee-dee . . .

I had a wife that loved me, and I loved her, you know.
She caught me with another gal, then I had to go.
It's not because I'm lucky; it's not because I'm smart.
I run around with other gals; that's how I got my start.
Yo-duh-lay-dee, yuh-lay-dee, dee-duhl-dee-dee . . .

Last night I met a nice little gal. we had lots of fun.
But when I met her husband, he put me on the run.
It's not because I'm lucky; it's not because I'm smart.
But when he started shootin', that's how I got my start.
Yo-duh-lay-dee, yuh-lay-dee, dee-duhl-dee-dee . . .

I been all around this country; been 'round most every place.
And all of the policemen have given me a chase.
It's not because I'm lucky; it's not because I'm smart.
I do the best that I can do; that's how I got my start.
Yo-duh-lay-dee, yuh-lay-dee, dee-duhl-dee-dee . . .

Don't let those twists and turns take you for this sort of whirl through life! But if this is what you make of your life, just remember that no one is useless. You can always serve as a bad example . . .

Truth in Advertising?

2012-01-18T03:49:00.001+09:00

Newsweek

I've been annoyed by the above cover for several weeks, ever since my wife's copy of this December 28, 2011 - January 4, 2012 issue of Newsweek arrived promising "2011 Pictures of the Year" inside.

Why my annoyance? Well, I had serious doubts about that promise. The magazine simply didn't feel hefty enough for 2011 photos. I finally counted yesterday and discovered merely 130 'pictures' in the entire issue! And that's a liberal counting that includes advertisements and the two covers!

Talk about bait and switch!

How can a national -- nay, international -- magazine of such prominent eminence promise 2011 pictures but follow through on only 130?

I want my wife's money back!

Oddly, my wife doesn't seem the least bit upset. Indeed, she seems not to understand my point at all. I guess her English isn't quite perfect yet.

Anyway, I thought I might try to "go viral" with my complaint. Maybe that'll get something done about this . . .

Cousin Bill visits his parents . . .

2012-01-17T04:59:00.002+09:00

New York Times

October 4, 2006

Cousin Bill sent out his "Weekly Ramblings" newsletter, relating a visit with his aged, Ozark-born parents and recounting the following conversation:

I visited with Dad and Mom Saturday afternoon. Both are fine . . . both very talkative. Noticing . . . [Dad's] palm . . . I inquired if the cracked, chapped area was healing.

Dad responded with: "If . . . I could get out . . . , I'd find a rain-filled hollowed stump and soak my hand . . . . That'd cure it . . . . That's what the old-timers said anyway."

I asked if that'd cure butt rash . . .

Grinning, Dad advised, "If you could find a big enough stump."

So there you have it . . . .

Mom changed the subject to [her birthday this coming] March 31 . . . "I'll be 99 in March, no, make that 90 . . ."

Which lead into Dad's [remark:] "I didn't ever figure I'd be around to 89 . . ."

Mom's turn again, "Bill, you know, we've been married 68 years . . ."

Dad's response: "Yeah, I know, so let's change the subject."

I found this dialogue vastly amusing, particularly my uncle's quips. I hope that I'm as alert when I get old. I don't think I'll make it to 89, however, given my dissolute academic life of hard living as a Gypsy Scholar, but I'm already 54, and if I'd known I'd live this long, I'd've taken better care of myself!

Benjamin Sommer and the Johannine Divine Name applied to the Son

2012-01-16T03:50:00.002+09:00

Astarte

Wikipedia

In The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, Benjamin Sommer draws attention to examples of the 'fluidity' of divine identity (i.e., the 'ability' of a Semitic deity to maintain an identity in more than one place simultaneously), for example, as described in some ancient Near Eastern texts concerning the term shem, that is, "name":

The same phenomenon [of being at once an independent deity and a part of another deity] occurs also with the term shem. In a Phonecian inscription, we read that the king Eshmunazor built a temple for Baal of Sidon and a temple for . . . "Astarte, Name of Baal . . . . The same epithet is applied to this goddess twice in Ugaritic myths. One of the occurrences comes from the Kirta epic: . . . (May) Astarte, Name of Baal, (break) your scalp!" An almost identical passage appears again in a passage from the Baal epic. In these three texts, Astarte as the Name of Baal appears in parallel with another god. She appears on her own, however, with some frequency in Ugaritic and Phonician texts (as well as in Egyptian ones). Here again, a goddess who elsewhere has her own self appears as an aspect of Baal's self. As in the more abundant Akkadian texts . . . then, the selfhood of Canaanite deities was at times fluid: Gods could fragment and overlap, even though at the level of worship and mythology they usually were distinct from each other. (page 27)

Sommer later applies this model to a number of passages in the Hebrew Bible, but I want to draw attention to another parallel, in John's Gospel:

17:11 καὶ οὐκέτι εἰμὶ ἐν τῷ κόσμῳ καὶ αὐτοὶ ἐν τῷ κόσμῳ εἰσίν κἀγὼ πρὸς σὲ ἔρχομαι πάτερ ἅγιε τήρησον αὐτοὺς ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί σου ᾧ δέδωκάς μοι ἵνα ὦσιν ἓν καθὼς ἡμεῖς. 12 ὅτε ἤμην μετ᾽ αὐτῶν ἐν τῷ κόσμῳ, ἐγὼ ἐτήρουν αὐτοὺς ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί σου οὓς δέδωκάς μοι ἐφύλαξα . . . (Morphological Greek New Testament)

17:11 I will remain in the world no longer, but they are still in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name -- the name you gave me -- so that they may be one as we are one. 12 While I was with them, I protected them and kept them safe by that name you gave me . . . (New International Version)

A bold, but careful hermeneut might venture to read this as meaning that the Son is the Name of the Father, analogous to how Astarte is the Name of Baal. Ben doesn't comment on these two Johannine verses, but I see by looking ahead that he later cites the Johannine prologue on page 96 in a particularly relevant discussion of John 1:14 concerning the manner in which the divine Word "tabernacled" in the world. Of special interest are Ben's notes 60 through 63 to this point, found on page 239, especially note 63's reference to "Name theology" in the Hebrew Bible, about which I'll comment upon when I've read that material thoroughly. I'd be curious to know what Ben makes of the two verses in John 17, as well as that chapter more generally.

Perhaps we can expect another book?

Williamsburg Circle of International Arts and Letters

2012-01-15T05:50:00.002+09:00

Williamsburg Circle

I've been invited by the artist Terrance Lindall to join the Williamsburg Circle of International Arts and Letters, a group that I'd noticed listed on the website of the WAH Center (Williamsburg Art and Historical Center), but about which I knew next to nothing. Terrance's invitation offered some history:

In 1997, Terrance Lindall created the President's Club at the WAH Center and the "Williamsburg Circle" of scholars, artists, philosophers, curators. theater people, scientists and engineers to put forth new ideas on the intersection of these subjects in the latter part of the 20th Century. Papers were written by members including Adam Oranchak, Travis Stewart, Yuko Nii and others. Terrance wrote his "Epistemological Movement in the Arts" essay for the Circle. The Presidents' Club of the WAH Center held dinners in honor of outstanding figures in the arts . . . .

The Williamsburg Circle (WC) also has a mission:

The WC will allow its members to put forth ideas that sometimes are not acceptable to the mainstream academic communities . . . . Here at the WC, new ideas, no matter how odd at first appearance will find exposure. The Williamsburg Circle serves as a hub for discussion of new ideas about diverse subject matters. It is especially keen to pointing up intersections in areas of study that on first glance appear to be contradictory, especially as applied to art and literature. It is these endless seemingly chaotic and spontaneous, self organizing and dissolving processes that appear in nature around us that give rise to intuitive leaps of creativity and reveal to the receptive, enlightened mind new ideas in science and the arts.

There's also a Williamsburg Circle motto:

"Fidem Fati Virtue Sequemur"

"With courage follow the promise of Destiny!"

Perhaps my destiny is to join this circle and . . . set forth my ideas? Do I have any ideas worth promoting? Most of my ideas arise from interacting with the ideas of others, which makes me good to have around as a conversational partner, I suppose, so perhaps I can be of some use for the Williamsburg Circle. Anyway, I'm quite interested, and Terrance has requested autobiographical details, so I've supplied the following:

I've been asked to compose a brief autobiography, but since I have no car, I'll just write about myself, with references to other modes of transportation. I was born in 1957 to a carless family in the Arkansas Ozarks and grew up walking regularly to my smalltown library to read books of all kinds, though the selection was limited. I left in 1975 on a bus heading for Baylor University and spent four years there in Waco, Texas pursuing my BA in literature and psychology, though I finished only the former, lacking a two-credit laboratory course for the latter. In 1979, I left for Berkeley and graduate studies in the history of science, and I recall a couple of long cross-country train rides during my many years at the University of California, where I received my masters in the history of science and my doctorate in history. I also used the local subway system to visit San Francisco nearly every Saturday, where I would spend the entire day hiking the city, visiting galleries and bookstores and attending poetry readings. By the late 1980s, I ended up in Tuebingen Germany as a Fulbright Fellow, having flown there, of course, and in 1992, as I was on a train headed for a Friedrich Naumann meeting to accept another fellowship, I met my wife, Sun-Ae Hwang, whom I had inadvertently sat down beside in the only seat still unoccupied in the carriage that I had boarded. We married in 1995 and spent a few years flying about the world to postdoctoral positions in Australia and Jerusalem -- on Australian Research Council and Golda Meir fellowships, respectively -- before settling in Korea, where we have used trains to move from university to university in my Gypsy Scholar career as a professor teaching a variety of subjects, including literature, religious studies, theology, history, and political science, along with essay composition and research methods. We currently live with our two children in Seoul, where I regularly take the subway to teach students at Ewha Womans University. In addition to my university teaching, I also work at home, composing a daily blog, editing for a number of academic journals and a university newspaper, and assisting my wife with her translation work, which can be on anything from art to history to literature. As the mode of transporation for this 'local' work, I use my bare or socked feet, which early in the morning get me from my bed to my desk, but in my imagination, I sprout wings and fly off on a variety of wide-ranging and adventuresome intellectual journeys . . .

That ought to suffice . . .

Jakub Grygiel on the EU and European Identity

2012-01-14T07:52:00.001+09:00

Jakub Grygiel

Johns Hopkins University

Jakub Grygiel, a professor of international relations at Johns Hopkins University and a fellow at the Center for European Policy Analysis, has written a recent article for the Foreign Policy Research Institute on the Europen Union: "One Market, One Currency, One People? The Faulty Logic of Europe" (January 2012). I'll just quote a cut-and-paste summary and offer a brief, opaque commentary since I have little time this morning:

[N]o matter how much time and money European leaders put into this effort [of forging a common European identity], the outcome does not look promising . . . . The reason is that its causality is faulty . . . . The project of a united Europe is based on the belief that economic unity (itself poorly defined) will lead to political unity. The pooling of the economic aspects of state sovereignty . . . was meant to constrain and mitigate the nationalistic behavior of individual governments, thereby limiting the possibility of another war. Moreover, in the longer run, the expectation was that a growing economic integration, culminating in the establishment of a common currency, would create a common European identity . . . . Such a line of causation demanded a technocratic approach. Missing the underlying national unity, the establishment of a common market and a common currency had to be pursued by a supra-national elite with a very tenuous electoral accountability. Absent a demos, the technocrats had to take over the decision-making process. The hope, based on the assumption that a common economy creates a unified people, was that at a certain point a European demos would arise allowing the functioning of a European democracy. But until then, technocracy would have to suffice . . . . The "democratic deficit" of EU institutions is, therefore, a direct outcome of the faith in the transformative powers of economic structures. The economic, material conditions had to be first set up, then managed by the EU elites sheltered from electoral wishes (notice the EU's reluctance to allow, and fear of, referenda), and the effect would be the blurring of national differences and ultimately the birth of a European nation. One market, one currency, and -- sooner or later -- one people . . . . There was no need to figure out what Europe, as a cultural entity, really was because the new economic reality would have made a new nation. Hence, the EU technocrats strongly opposed any reference to a common religious background, Christianity, and ignored the three founding cities of Europe: Jerusalem, Athens, and Rome. In their stead, an anemic paean to universal values, reason, and tolerance was much preferred, and the less defined these terms the better. In a way, there were meant to be empty vessels, so anyone could fill them with any substance they desired because they were simply temporary placeholders for the unity that would have sprung from the material conditions created by a common market. One Europe under one currency . . . . [But] Europeans will not be created by the euro and a common market, and what we have right now is a set of EU institutions with no Europeans. But to recognize this leads to the question of what Europe is, a question that neither Merkel nor Sarkozy nor Barroso are willing to ponder because they seem to have little memory of the Christian roots of Europe. Jerusalem, Athens, and Rome are seen as contemporary sources of security and fiscal problems, not as symbols of a great civilizational and religious inheritance that truly unites Europe.

I think that Grygiel is largely right about the limitations intrinsic to employing economic unification toward driving cultural unity. But the European elite would respond that they have not neglected a larger identity, for they do appeal to "universal values, reason, and tolerance." Grygiel calls these three rather "anemic" compared to Europe's Christian roots. I don't think that anemia is the real issue, however. The problem with these three Enlightenment values is that in a postmodern Europe, they are redefined and even contradict each other, for the radical multiculturalism implicitly adopted undercuts appeal to any universal value except for the universal value of tolerance, itself self-contradictory, and reason is distrusted as an authoritarian arbiter of differences that would seek to impose its metanarrative upon the various cultural groups of Europe's multicultural reality.

That's what needs to be discussed.

Expecting Rain . . . a "Hard Rain"!

2012-01-13T05:27:00.001+09:00

Bob Dylan

Expecting Rain

A few days ago, I blogged on Dylan's 'plagiarism' ("Dylan on Cash . . . Or?") and cited Scott Warmuth on Dylan's surreptitious use of Jack London. Unexpectedly for me, Mr. Warmuth visited my blog entry and commented:

Thanks for the link to my article. I dig your nod to Milton at the end of the post.

You can find more of my writing on Dylan's work on my blog. A good starting point might be the long list of Jack London similarities that I referred to in my New Haven Review essay . . .

Mr. Warmuth didn't stop at that. He also linked to my blog entry from a Dylan news site, Expecting Rain, for January 12, 2012, and at around 8:30 p.m., Seoul time, I was getting nearly 100 hits per hour on my blog, most of those directed from Expecting Rain! Perhaps some of those sent my way will linger and read other posts. I can hope . . .

The Milton reference, by the way, was to my post's words about Dylan leading us "in wandering mazes lost," a serpentine sinuosity described in Paradise Lost 2.561.

Anyway, thank you, Mr. Warmuth . . .

Arrived: Bodies of God!

2012-01-12T03:56:00.001+09:00

Cambridge University Press

My copy of Benjamin Sommer's Bodies of God book has arrived, a text whose review I noted in a recent blog entry. I don't recall if I quoted any of the words from the Cambridge University Press advertising copy (though I think not), but here they are in full:

Sommer utilizes a lost ancient Near Eastern perception of divinity according to which a god has more than one body and fluid, unbounded selves. Though the dominant strains of biblical religion rejected it, a monotheistic version of this theological intuition is found in some biblical texts. Later Jewish and Christian thinkers inherited this ancient way of thinking; ideas such as the sefirot in Kabbalah and the trinity in Christianity represent a late version of this theology. This book forces us to rethink the distinction between monotheism and polytheism, as this notion of divine fluidity is found in both polytheistic cultures (Babylonia, Assyria, Canaan) and monotheistic ones (biblical religion, Jewish mysticism, Christianity), whereas it is absent in some polytheistic cultures (classical Greece). The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel has important repercussions not only for biblical scholarship and comparative religion but for Jewish-Christian dialogue.

I'll be reading Sommer's book in the near future and blogging when I have something to say, but today, I can only note that Ben has mentioned me in his "Acknowledgements" as one one of the many people with whom be talked, conversations that in my case took place in Jerusalem more than ten years ago when I spent a year there as a Golda Meir Fellow (aka Lady Davis Fellow) at Hebrew University (Mt. Scopus Campus):

While writing this book, I have benefitted from conversations with many friends and colleagues . . . . Useful feedback came from . . . H. Jeffrey Hodges . . . . (Benjamin D. Sommer, The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel, New York: Cambridge University Press, March 2011, page xiv)

That's me . . . despite the "-rey" ending. Everyone makes this mistake, so I'm fighting a losing battle over the spelling of my name. Moreover, Ben is being excessively generous. I didn't contribute much, barely enough to mention. But I appreciate Ben's words -- as well as the recommendation that he wrote for me back around 2001 when I was still vainly striving to make my scholarly way in religious studies. I had hoped to contribute to Jewish-Christian dialogue of the sort alluded to in the advertising copy above.

My aim these days is to be a competent teacher, editor, and blogger as well as wise old man. On that last goal, I'm at least halfway there -- my students consider me old!

Paul Simon's 'Christian' Interests?

2012-01-11T05:15:00.001+09:00

Paul Simon

Christianity Today

As someone who hangs around with the evangelical crowd, though mainly on the sidelines, I've often encountered references to the late British evangelical John Stott, so I was curious to read that one of my favorite musicians, Paul Simon, had liked the man. We learn this from Kim Lawton, of the PBS program Religion and Ethics NewsWeekly, who has written on the point in "Paul Simon: 'God Comes Up a Lot in My Songs'" for Christianity Today (January 9, 2012), which tells of Simon's "memorable conversation with John Stott":

Simon said he was recording in England when he saw a 2004 New York Times column by David Brooks, which described Stott's approach to faith.

"The piece was about how embarrassed some Christians were by the televangelists, and (it) said, no one ever talks about this guy, but he's a really good thinker," Simon said.

Paul Simon reads David Brooks? David Brooks reads John Stott? Maybe we should take a look at that column, which asks, "Who is John Stott?" (New York Times, November 30, 2004), and then offers an answer:

[I]f evangelicals could elect a pope, Stott is the person they would likely choose. He was the framer of the Lausanne Covenant, a crucial organizing document for modern evangelicalism. He is the author of more than 40 books, which have been translated into over 72 languages and have sold in the millions. Now rector emeritus at All Souls, Langham Place, in London, he has traveled the world preaching and teaching.

When you read Stott, you encounter first a tone of voice . . . . It is a voice that is friendly, courteous and natural. It is humble and self-critical, but also confident, joyful and optimistic. Stott's mission is to pierce through all the encrustations and share direct contact with Jesus. Stott says that the central message of the gospel is not the teachings of Jesus, but Jesus himself, the human/divine figure. He is always bringing people back to the concrete reality of Jesus' life and sacrifice.

There's been a lot of twaddle written recently about the supposed opposition between faith and reason. To read Stott is to see someone practicing "thoughtful allegiance" to scripture. For him, Christianity means probing the mysteries of Christ. He is always exploring paradoxes. Jesus teaches humility, so why does he talk about himself so much? What does it mean to gain power through weakness, or freedom through obedience? In many cases the truth is not found in the middle of apparent opposites, but on both extremes simultaneously.

Stott is so embracing it's always a bit of a shock -- especially if you're a Jew like me -- when you come across something on which he will not compromise . . . . Most important, he does not believe truth is plural. He does not believe in relativizing good and evil or that all faiths are independently valid, or that truth is something humans are working toward. Instead, Truth has been revealed. As he writes:

"It is not because we are ultra-conservative, or obscurantist, or reactionary or the other horrid things which we are sometimes said to be. It is rather because we love Jesus Christ, and because we are determined, God helping us, to bear witness to his unique glory and absolute sufficiency. In Christ and in the biblical witness to Christ God's revelation is complete; to add any words of our own to his finished work is derogatory to Christ."

Yeah, that's pretty uncompromising. I wonder why Paul Simon, who is also Jewish, expressed a wish to meet the man, though he apparently did, as Lawton tells us:

He decided he wanted to meet Stott, and a friend helped connect them. Simon called the theologian and offered to take him out for dinner. He said Stott told him he didn't go out much anymore and instead invited the musician to his flat for tea and biscuits.

"I'd say we spent two or three hours there," Simon recalled. "I talked about everything that was on my mind about things that seemed illogical, and he talked about why he had come to his conclusions."

Simon was very impressed by Stott. "I liked him immensely," he told me. "I left there feeling that I had a greater understanding of where belief comes from when it doesn't have an agenda."

"It didn't change my way of thinking," he added, "but what I liked about it was that we were able to talk and have a dialogue."

I guess Simon just wanted to understand evangelicals and have some of his questions answered by a thoughtful evangelical leader who is also a well-informed intellectual.

You can watch Kim Lawton's interview, "Paul Simon" (January 6, 2012), on her Religion and Ethics NewsWeekly program for PBS. He says less there than Lawton provides for us on the Christianity Today site, but there are other interesting things, such as the character of his most recent album, So Beautiful or So What, which the evangelical Irish blogger Cathleen Falsani, "who writes frequently about religion and pop culture," praised as "one of the most memorable collections of spiritual musical musings in recent memory." In citing Falsani, Lawton is quoting from an article that Falsani wrote for The Huffington Post, "So Beautiful or So What So Christian?" (June 30, 2011). In that article, Falsani also cites Steve Stockman, "a Protestant clergyman and music critic from Northern Ireland," who says that Simon's album is perhaps "the best Christian album of the year."

As a follow-up to that piece and the Lawton interview, Falsani tells in "God, PBS and Paul Simon, The 'God Chronicler By Accident'" (Sojourners, January 6, 2012) of a burgeoning friendship with Simon, who had read her article. Of Simon, she writes:

Simon is the real deal. He is thoughtful, kind and intellectually curious. He pulls no punches, digs deeper, seeking the truth -- whatever it may be.

He sounds like an interesting man, as I would have expected from his music -- which I started listening to when I was about 10 -- and today's blog post has been interesting for me to write, for it was unplanned and has taken me places that I didn't expect to go.

I hope that readers have enjoyed the journey . . .

Terrance Lindall: Milton's Satan 'inspiring' the Serpent . . .

2012-01-10T03:36:00.001+09:00

The surrealist artist Terrance Lindall has sent me a couple more images of artworks -- along with commentary, also posted below -- from his 1979 series on Paradise Lost, these two depicting upon the moment in which Satan takes possession of the serpent (PL 9.179-191):

In all of the illustrators of Paradise Lost I never saw [even] one illustration where the devil is actually entering the serpent. They show Satan staring at the Serpent. So my idea was to show Satan actually entering the serpent as a black mist. Here are two versions. The drawing [above] is like a man opening the mouth of a crocodile and sticking his head in. The painting below that is in the collection of Denise Tuite ( I sold her PL works early in the 1980s -- the ones I did not intend to publish). I may actually redo this one for the YN Collection [i.e., the Yuko Nii Collection], maybe the others too. Another project before I die. [The Milton expert] Prof. John Geraghty owns the complete slide set of my original paintings for PL that he acquired at auction recently. T[errance].

The difference between the two images is intriguing, the drawing of the serpent appearing more dragon-like and also awake, as if already 'nocent' and remade in Satan's image despite Milton's description. In the painting, however, Lindall has kept somewhat more closely to the wording of Paradise Lost, for though the serpent is stretched out at length rather than "self-rowld," it is not yet awakened to sin, but sleepeth. In case anyone is curious, here is the passage in Milton's epic poem, PL 9.179-191, in which Satan determines upon entering the serpent, after first having lamented the necessity of lowering himself:

So saying, through each Thicket Danck or Drie,
Like a black mist low creeping, he held on [ 180 ]
His midnight search, where soonest he might finde
The Serpent: him fast sleeping soon he found
In Labyrinth of many a round self-rowld,
His head the midst, well stor'd with suttle wiles:
Not yet in horrid Shade or dismal Den, [ 185 ]
Nor nocent yet, but on the grassie Herbe
Fearless unfeard he slept: in at his Mouth
The Devil enterd, and his brutal sense,
In heart or head, possessing soon inspir'd
With act intelligential; but his sleep [ 190 ]
Disturbd not, waiting close th' approach of Morn.
[Thomas H. Luxon, ed. The Milton Reading Room, January 2012.]

My blog is privileged to have this apparently unique rendering of an illustration showing Satan in the act of possessing the serpent, a depiction -- in Lindall's experience as illustrator and Milton expert -- never before rendered by previous illustrators of Paradise Lost.

But if any reader knows of other such images, please let us know.

Dylan on Cash . . . Or?

2012-01-09T04:01:00.001+09:00

Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan

Google Images

I came across some lines yesterday, written by Dylan about Cash:

Johnny didn't have a piercing yell, but ten thousand years of culture fell from him. He could have been a cave dweller. He sounds like he's at the edge of the fire, or in the deep snow, or in a ghostly forest, the coolness of conscious obvious strength, full tilt and vibrant with danger.

I was so impressed by this description that I followed it up to find the context, which proved to be Dylan's Chronicles: Volume One, in which Dylan was talking about his own song "Man in the Long Black Coat" on the 1989 album Oh Mercy, which he recorded with Daniel Lanois, comparing it to Cash's "I Walk the Line":

I wasn't sure that we had recorded any historical tunes like what he [i.e., Lanois] had wanted, but I was thinking that we might have gotten close with these last two [i.e., "Shooting Star" and "Man in the Long Black Coat"]. "Man in the Long Black Coat" was the real facts. In some kind of weird way, I thought of it as my "Walk the Line," a song I'd always considered to be up there at the top, one of the most mysterious and revolutionary of all time, a song that makes an attack on your most vulnerable spots, sharp words from a master.

I'd always thought that Sun Records and Sam Phillips himself had created the most crucial, uplifting and powerful records ever made. Next to Sam's records, all the rest sounded fruity. On Sun Records, the artists were singing for their lives and sounded like they were coming from the most mysterious place on the planet. No justice for them. They were so strong, can send you up a wall. If you were walking away and looked back at them, you could be turned into stone. Johnny Cash's records were no exception, but they weren't what you expected. Johnny didn't have a piercing yell, but ten thousand years of culture fell from him. He could have been a cave dweller. He sounds like he's at the edge of the fire, or in the deep snow, or in a ghostly forest, the coolness of conscious obvious strength, full tilt and vibrant with danger. "I keep a close watch on this heart of mine." Indeed. I must have recited those lines to myself a million times. Johnny's voice was so big, it made the world grow small, unusually low pitched -- dark and booming, and he had the right band to match him, the rippling rhyhm and cadence of click-clack. Words that were the rule of law and backed by the power of God. When I first heard "I Walk the Line" so many years earlier, it sounded like a voice calling out, "What are you doing there, boy?" I was trying to keep my eyes wide opened, too. (pages 216-217)

In looking around the internet for this passage in full, I noticed that several sites had remarked that Dylan was quoting from various sources in penning his memoirs. To be precise . . . quoting without quotation marks. Plagiarism! Or is it? There's too much of such copying for Dylan to have been trying to deceive anybody. Or to put it another way, Dylan's was no dishonest deception, it was forthright deception -- Dylan living outside the law but being honest. A trickster. In an article "Bob Charlatan: Deconstructing Dylan's Chronicles: Volume One" for the New Haven Review (Issue 6, 2010, pages 71-83), Scott Warmuth argues that "Bob Dylan . . . has embraced camouflage to an astounding degree, in a book that is meticulously fabricated, with one surface concealing another, from cover to cover" (page 71). For instance, the lines that had so impressed me:

Johnny didn't have a piercing yell, but ten thousand years of culture fell from him. He could have been a cave dweller. He sounds like he's at the edge of the fire, or in the deep snow, or in a ghostly forest, the coolness of conscious obvious strength, full tilt and vibrant with danger.

Warmuth notes that:

Almost every word there comes from [Jack] London's story "The Son of the Wolf," cut, pasted, recast.

Click on that short story. You can search for the sources of Dylan's phrasings. His copying. As Dylan might have said, "Only those in the music business would understand that." And read Warmuth's entire article -- it's only thirteen pages, and has much of interest to relate about Dylan's tricky literary language that leads us deep in wandering mazes lost, unacknowledged.

Crystal Bridges Museum: A World-Class Museum in the Ozarks?

2012-01-08T05:48:00.000+09:00

Crystal Bridges Museum

Computer Rendering

John Horner/Walton Family Foundation

New York Times

I read about this museum some time ago last year but was waiting till I heard more. The news interested me because I'd grown up in the Arkansas Ozarks hearing about Sam Walton, founder of Wal-Mart, and I even met one of his elementary school teachers back around 1982. She was in her nineties and blind, but sharp of mind, and had only good things to say about her former student. The man started out poor but managed to become one of the richest men in America through his business acumen and hard work.

As might only happen in stories but is actually taking place, some of Walton's money is being used to fund the construction of a world-class museum designed by Boston architect Moshe Safdie for the northwest Ozark town of Bentonville:

The era of the world-class museum built by a single philanthropist in the tradition of Isabella Stewart Gardner, John Pierpont Morgan Jr. and Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney may seem to have passed, but Alice L. Walton is bringing it back.

Yet her mission is unlike those of her predecessors, or of more recent art patrons like Ronald S. Lauder and his Neue Galerie. They set out to put great works on display in cultural capitals like New York and Boston. Instead, Ms. Walton's Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art -- the first major institution in 50 years dedicated to the vast spectrum of American art, to be housed in a building more than twice the size of the current Whitney Museum of American Art -- seeks to bring high art to middle America here in this town of 35,000 that is best known as the home of Wal-Mart.

Ms. Walton, the daughter of Wal-Mart's founder, Sam Walton, has worked on the museum for nearly a decade, but has said little about it in public until now. In a recent interview at Town Branch, her family home here, she said she wanted to turn Bentonville into an international destination for art lovers when the museum opens on Nov. 11. At the moment the most significant nearby cultural attractions are two hours away: a museum of Western and American Indian art in Tulsa, Okla., and, in the other direction, the country-music magnet of Branson, Mo.

This article by Carol Vogel, "A Billionaire's Eye for Art Shapes Her Singular Museum," which came to my attention as one of the first reports that I'd noticed, was published in the June 16th edition of the New York Times last year and provided the computer rendition seen above. I assume that the construction was still unfinised at that time, but it was scheduled for opening on November 11th, an auspicious date, I suppose, being 11/11/11, whatever that might signify. I hadn't heard of this museum earlier, perhaps because Ms. Walton had been keeping a low profile as she built up her collection:

Named for the nearby Crystal Spring, the museum will display top-flight works by American masters from the Colonial era to the present, with the largest concentrations coming from the 19th and 20th centuries. Although the collection -- currently about 600 paintings and sculptures -- is still small by the standards of big museums, it is growing at a steady clip.

"She has not just been concentrating on what could be perceived as the greatest hits in American art," said John Wilmerding, an art historian and professor at Princeton University, who has been advising Ms. Walton for seven years and is now on the Crystal Bridges board. "She has collected the work of some of these artists in depth," quietly amassing substantial bodies of work by figures like Martin Johnson Heade, Stuart Davis, George Bellows and John Singer Sargent.

This sounds impressive, and I learned from the article that Ms. Walton "has been an art collector most of her life," even though she "took only one art history course in college," and "has spent much of the last 25 years reading about the subject," making her "a savvy collector." In short, she knows exactly what she's doing, and she getting the best people involved in her project. Despite her focus and past decade's work on this plan, much remains to be done, as she herself acknowledges:

"We'll be opening without a lot of things," she added with a smile. "But that's just fine."

The museum has since opened, and you can tour it online at the Crystal Bridges Museum website, visible proof that my home region is changing . . . and for the better.

Step Aside, Girls' Generation, Here's Me N Ma Girls!

2012-01-07T07:39:00.001+09:00

Me N Ma Girls

New York Times

K-Pop gets all the attention these days, but other Asian bands are pushing their way into the spotlight. My K-Pop fanatic daughter and I read an unsigned International Tribune Herald article whose online NYT version is "Myanmar's First Girl Band Pushes Limits of Censors, and Parents" (January 4, 2012) and which informs us of the band Me N Ma Girls (a pun on "Myanmar girls"):

The band is a creation of Nicole May, an Australian dancer who came to Myanmar three years ago and handpicked five women from 120 candidates who responded to an ad on the radio and in newspapers . . .

Ms. May, who is a graphic designer by profession, chose the band members using criteria atypical for the doll-like girl bands common across Asia. Ms. May said she wanted attitude and charisma.

"I wanted five girls who had energy and magnetic attraction," Ms. May said.

All five of the members of Me N Ma Girls have college degrees, in the fields of chemistry, zoology, mathematics, Russian and computer science. The band members, while not overly cerebral, are outspoken and confident.

My daughter gaped at reading of their educational level.

The band was first known the Tiger Girls, but the choice of band members created a rift between Ms. May and her Burmese co-manager, Moe Kyaw, who initially financed the Tiger Girls and who was looking for a more South Korean look: light-skinned with the willowy bodies of store-window mannequins.

My daughter, who loves Girls' Generation, exclaimed, "That describes Girls' Generation! In one video, they even were mannequins!"

"I was skeptical," Mr. Moe Kyaw said in response to e-mailed questions. "If you were to ask me if I thought they had the looks for a successful girl band, I would say no."

Mr. Moe Kyaw said he initially relented because he thought that the girls were talented and that looks were not everything. "This was during the days of Susan Boyle," he said.

But he changed his mind. A year ago, Mr. Moe Kyaw and Ms. May parted ways. The girls followed Ms. May and changed their name to Me N Ma Girls.

Growing name recognition in the music industry in Myanmar -- the girls have been featured in magazine spreads and profiles in the Burmese media -- has yet to translate to financial success.

That may be about to change, now that the band has made front page of the International Herald Tribune, the version of the article that my daughter and I read ("Pop singers onstage, and deferential daughters at home," January 5, 2012).

I was curious and managed to find this video on You Tube: "Chate Lite Tot." They do have energy and magnetism, and a more spontaneous style than the highly synchronized K-Pop bands, though the Me N Ma Girls are also obviously well-practiced in choreographics.

After watching that one video, I noticed that the online article has a couple of links itself. Here are "Festival" and "Liar!" Or just go to their Vimeo site, which is under their manager's name, Nicole May.

Will they make it big? We'll see, but since Myanmar seems to be opening up to the world these days, their window of opportunity may have opened.

UPDATE: Here's a pseudonymously written Guardian article from a year ago, when the group was still the Tiger Girls, and it has a photo of Nicole May with the band.

For the Love of a Warlord

2012-01-06T08:49:00.002+09:00

Cover by J. Scott Campbell

Newsarama

I received an email this morning from a certain 'Warlord'! Or so my inbox threatened, so I clicked on the email, with a bit of trepidation, to learn what this was about:

Hello dear,

Hello yourself. You're calling me "dear"? That's rather sweet of a warlord.

How are you ? hope you are good.

How am I? Oh, I'm well enough, if that's what you mean, and I try to be good. They're not the same, you know. I think you probably do know.

my name is Amira Warlord,

Amira the Warlord, I take it, your title having been shortened to a surname. You have my deepest respect . . . and my attention.

I find your contact on my search for a nice and lovely friend. and i will like to establish a relationship with you.

That sounds rather like an offer I can't refuse. Or not easily. Not without risking my life. But I'm no bacha bereesh, no boy without a beard, so I'm really too old to be taken on as one of your dancing boys.

I will tell you more about myself once i hear from you, A friend who truly understand his or her friend and share their feelings together.

Share my feelings? Okay, since you've granted me the right to speak freely . . . warlords make me feel insecure, fearful, threatened, and very, very mortal.

I will send my pictures to you immediately i receive your reply . . . believe we can move from here!

I've got your picture above . . . I think. Of you and a friend. That's why the "we" in your offer to move has me worried. I'm not sure the threesome you propose is to my taste, but I fear it might be to your friend's taste!

I am waiting for your mail to my email address above. Remember that the distance, colour or language does not matter but love matters alot in life.

Distance. I like that part of what you say. I'll go even further. Contact doesn't even matter in love. Let's not even contact each other. That way, any 'love' between us will remain absolutely pure.

Best regards

Same to you (but what else could I safely say?).

Amira.

You forgot to add "Warlord." I must say that of the many offers of eternal internetted love, yours is the most compelling. Potentially the most forceful.

But please excuse me while I change my name, my place of residence, and everything else about me . . .

Hair: "Do-Re-Mi"

2012-01-05T04:08:00.001+09:00

Hair Poster

Wikipedia

Remember, from that old musical Hair, the "Do-Re-Me" song that so offended everybody by its choice of off-color subject matter and explicit terms? I was just recalling it from how I first heard it -- more on that later -- and at that time construed the lyrics, which I take to be more or less correct:

I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Do-Re-Mi,
Pellagra-oh!
Country linguist,
Pedal faster!

Father, why do these words sound much vaster?

Constipation
Can't be done.
Join the wholy gorging.
Come and suture,
Everyone!

That's how I understood it in 1967 at ten years old, anyway, when I heard it late at night in my grandparents' dirt-floor basement through the earphone from my tiny battery-free transistor with its alligator clip attached to my bed's iron bedstead for an electrical source sent circulating by the very radio waves that brought the music to my ear, and I still can't understand why folks found it so offensive ("Constipation" excepted) . . . though I can't swear to recalling the precise words in my forty-four-year-old memory from my ten-year-old mind.

But please, don't correct me if I'm wrong . . .

Don't you lecture me!

2012-01-04T03:46:00.002+09:00

NPR Logo

Readers will perhaps recall that I taught a history course last spring on European integration -- rather pertinent, as recent events reveal -- and that I used an innovative (for me) technique. Rather than lecture -- which I knew from experience would be a waste of time (me speaking English to a class for whom it's mostly a second language) -- I divided the class into nine groups of about six students each and had them spend the first twenty minutes discussing several questions that had been posted online a couple of days before. We then followed this with about forty minutes of class-wide discussion. The process worked much better, I thought, than any lecture that I'd ever given. But that was merely my impression, one unbased on hard evidence.

Now, however, I have some factual evidence, quantitative even! Emily Hanford, for NPR, tells us in "Physicists Seek To Lose The Lecture As Teaching Tool" (January 1, 2012) that discussion is the best method:

[Eric] Mazur's physics class is now different. Rather than lecturing, he makes his students do most of the talking.

At a recent class, the students -- nearly 100 of them -- are in small groups discussing a question. Three possible answers to the question are projected on a screen. Before the students start talking with one another, they use a mobile device to vote for their answer. Only 29 percent got it right. After talking for a few minutes, Mazur tells them to answer the question again.

This time, 62 percent of the students get the question right. Next, Mazur leads a discussion about the reasoning behind the answer. The process then begins again with a new question. This is a method Mazur calls "peer Instruction." He now teaches all of his classes this way.

"What we found over now close to 20 years of using this approach is that the learning gains at the end of the semester nearly triple," he says.

One value of this approach is that it can be done with hundreds of students. You don't need small classes to get students active and engaged. Mazur says the key is to get them to do the assigned reading -- what he calls the "information-gathering" part of education -- before they come to class.

That's the hard part, getting them to prepare! But if they do, this method works wonders. Of course, the results are different for history, compared to physics, but the students do learn to develop their ideas and analysis through discussion, which leads to improved research papers, due to better developed views.

I'd write more on this topic, but I'm using a different computer than my own, familiar one because of internet-link problems this morning, so go to the link to learn more.

John Milton: "The end then of Learning . . ."

2012-01-03T04:29:00.000+09:00

Adam, Eve, and Archangel Michael

Illustration for John Milton's Paradise Lost
Gustav Doré

Guardian

Jessica Martin has a somewhat interesting, four-part series in the Guardian on Milton's epic, Paradise Lost, and in her first of the four, she quotes a statement from Milton's 1644 essay Of Education that caught my attention -- though her hyperlink is to the wrong text (so I'm linking here and for other of Milton's texts to Thomas H. Luxon, ed. The Milton Reading Room, January 2012):

The end then of Learning is to repair the ruines of our first Parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him, as we may the neerest by possessing our souls of true vertue, which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes up the highest perfection.

With the right hermeneutic key, one sees that Milton is applying an Arminian understanding of human effort together with divine grace as both together cooperating to bring the individual into a right knowledge of God. Indeed, given the temporal sequence of learning followed by assisting grace -- whether prevenient or soteriological -- as reflected in the verbal sequence of clauses, the careful hermeneut could be forgiven in concluding that for Milton, human effort comes first and is completed (possibly rewarded?) by grace, as though deserved! I therefore suspect that we are to read the following passage from Milton's 1643 essay on the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce as subtly indicating agreement with the Jesuit position on Middle Knowledge and the views of Arminius, which seem derived from those Jesuit teachings:

The Jesuits, and that sect among us which is nam'd of Arminius, are wont to charge us of making God the author of sinne in two degrees especially, not to speak of his permissions. 1. Because we hold that he hath decreed some to damnation, and consequently to sinne, say they: Next, because those means which are of saving knowledge to others, he makes to them an occasion of greater sinne. Yet considering the perfection wherin man was created, and might have stood, no decree necessitating his free will, but subsequent though not in time yet in order to causes which were in his owne power, they might, methinks be perswaded to absolve both God and us.

Why do I suspect subtle agreement? Because Milton slyly remarks "they might, methinks be perswaded to absolve both God and us"! I therefore also think that Milton was even signaling suble agreement with the Jesuits and Arminius through his reference to their views in his 1644 essay Areopagitica:

But of our Priests and Doctors how many have bin corrupted by studying the comments of Jesuits and Sorbonists, and how fast they could transfuse that corruption into the people, our experience is both late and sad. It is not forgot, since the acute and distinct Arminius was perverted meerly by the perusing of a namelesse discourse writt'n at Delf, which at first he took in hand to confute.

Admittedly, one has to read Milton's words here as ironic, but I think that we should, for we know from other writings that Milton soon came to express open agreement with Arminius, and Maurice Kelley tells us that even in Areopagitica, Milton "at least tacitly accepted the Arminian position on free will" ("Introduction," Christian Doctrine, Complete Prose Works of John Milton, Volume 6, New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1973, page 82). But did Milton know of the Jesuit views on Middle Knowledge? I've not yet found any obviously smoking gun in Milton's works to support this for certain.

I strongly suspect it, however, and Benjamin Myers book on Milton's Theology of Freedom makes the possibility even more plausible, for he notes the widely known debates over Middle Knowledge in the mid-seventeenth century.

Tilda Swinton

2012-01-02T05:03:00.001+09:00

Tilda Swinton

Photo by Mark Veltman

The New York Times

Hard to believe Ms. Swinton is 51, but I recall seeing her in Orlando back in 1992 shortly after I'd met Sun-Ae, with whom I attended the film, which I believe Sun-Ae chose since I'd not known of it, though I knew of Virginia Woolf's novel Orlando, on which the film was based and which I've not (yet) read despite intending to for nearly thirty years, ever since a Baylor acquaintance was reading it and relating its weird plot, a wonderful weirdness captured by the captivating Ms. Swinton, whose career I've not followed because neither, she says, has she, having been "making it up" as she goes along, "never [having] set out to be an actor" (or actress), but having "slid into performing" in film upon meeting "the experimental filmmaker Derek Jarman" and forming "an artistic collaboration that only ended with his death in 1994," bringing to a close her first foray into "industrial filmmaking," a consequence as haphazard as "her sideways tilt into an acting career," a phrase by the Times writer Charles Isherwood that turned my mind to my own "sideways tilt" into industrial teaching, immersed in laboring with students on the mechanics of essay composition, a practice that has at least forced me to write with an attention to detail, though perhaps this blog alone would have done that, but speaking of work, I now have work to do and must close this stream-of-conscious thought evoked by Mr. Isherwood's late-December Times portrayal of Ms. Swinton as an "Alien Laborer in the Hollywood Factory" (December 30, 2011).

2011 Year's End: Chance Encounter with Bruno Littlemore!

2012-01-01T00:02:00.000+09:00

Yesterday around midday, I took an end-of-the-year walk with Sun-Ae along Seoul's old city wall on the east side of town upon the hill known as Naksan, as you see below.

The day was cold, but to my surprise as we descended into the Daehangno neighborhood, I ran into an old friend from the States, Bruno Littlemore! He looks less dressed for the chilly weather, but Bruno's a Chicago boy and thus accustomed to cold weather.

I've never seen Chicago, only passed through on Amtrack back in 1984, so I didn't meet Bruno there in his hometown, but we have a mutual acquaintance in Benjamin Hale, the son of one of my high school buddies, Pete Hale, both of us being Ozark Mountain boys.

Bruno and I had a lot of catching up to do. Last I'd heard, he was in Georgia, incarcerated for murder (though I consider that killing justifiable homicide), so I wondered how he'd escaped. Seems some woman named Gwen Gupta had fallen for him big time and had slipped him a key to liberate himself -- "Shades of Paradise Lost!" I actually exclaimed that, but Bruno merely smiled. He did mention that he'd ended up in Seoul by stowing away on a merchant marine ship headed for the Far East. Discovered in the hold, he'd offered to work his way across the Pacific. When they realized his strength and agility and noted that he was a quick study, they'd offered him a permanent job, but he jumped ship in Busan Harbor and made his way to Korea's capital, where he teaches English to get by. He doesn't have a 'real' college diploma, but the local academies will hire anything on two legs that can speak American English, so he figures he'll be around for a while.

I couldn't chat long with Bruno since Sun-Ae and I were hungry, so we bade goodbye, promising to meet sometime for brews -- I intend to take him to the Taphouse! -- and my wife and I wandered on till we came upon a place called Queen's Town Public Restaurant and decided to try the place. I ordered a Budweiser on tap, against my better judgment, but when it appeared, I was so taken by its excessive carbonation that I could only admire the head of foam that built up and overflowed. You see my admiring glance below.

As you perceive, I'm now in shock at the continuing wellspring of foam!

The day went on after our meal as Sun-Ae and I sought out a café and talked until past four in the afternoon about what we'd achieved in 2011 and hoped to achieve in 2012. We then started the troublesome, too-long journey homeward.

I would have included photos of my wife, but she's camera shy and refused even the rare photo from being posted, so you'll just have to imagine her stunning beauty . . .

Thomas F. Farr: Blasphemy and Democracy in the Islamic World

2011-12-31T04:13:00.001+09:00

Thomas F. Farr

Berkley Center

Thomas Farr, director of the Religious Freedom Project at Georgetown University's Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, and World Affairs, has written a review for Christianity Today of Silenced: How Apostasy and Blasphemy Codes are Choking Freedom Worldwide (Oxford University Press), a recently published book by Paul Marshall and Nina Shea. The review, titled "Islam's Inquisitors: A Review of 'Silenced'" (December 29, 2011), first introduces us to the authors:

Having collaborated for several years, first at Freedom House and currently at the Hudson Institute's Center for Religious Freedom, the pair brings to the subject a remarkable background in research and advocacy. Marshall is in many respects the intellectual godfather of the fight for international religious freedom. His 2007 Religious Freedom in the World was the first attempt to provide a comparative index of religious liberty that measured the performances of key countries. And Shea has pioneered activism on behalf of the victims of persecution, while maintaining a steady stream of trenchant writings on the subject. Of late, she has directed much of her fire at the failures of Saudi Arabia to remove toxic Wahhabist principles from its textbooks.

I was familiar with the author's names, though perhaps readers are not, but I've not read much by either, probably just an article or two over the years since 9/11. Their interest in religious freedom dovetails with that of Farr, so in drawing from the review, we'll likely be getting the views of all three combined. Farr notes that Western countries in the past also had blasphemy laws, some of these still being on the law books but largely unenforced, and that today's Christians generally support the position "that all religious communities have the right to make their truth claims freely and publicly, and to win converts where those claims are persuasive." Such a position does not find common ground with most Muslims:

The lands of Islam, however, are still far from embracing this aspect of religious liberty. Blasphemy continues to be criminalized throughout the Muslim nations of the greater Middle East, Africa, and South and East Asia. Converts from Islam -- apostates -- are often imprisoned, tortured, or murdered. Under the aegis of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation, Muslim nations have for years attempted to internationalize the treatment of blasphemy as a crime.

Apparently, this obvious fact still comes as a surprise to many Westerners, though not to Farr, Marshall, or Shea. The problem of religious persecution has broader implications, for Farr tells us that "there is mounting evidence that religious liberty is necessary for the stability and longevity of democracy in highly religious societies, and for the defeat of religion-based terrorism." I find the link between religious freedom and democracy intuitively obvious, but I do wish that Farr had provided some detailed evidence for the point. Pakistan would likely offer a lot of evidence for the link, for the mere accusation of blasphemy appears sufficient to get the accused killed. The Islamists shoot first and ask no questions later. God will sort the innocent out from the guilty, I suppose.

In such a society as Pakistan's, clearly, an accusation of blasphemy can be used against any opponent merely by claiming that some of the opponent's views on any topic whatsoever, religious or not, are inherently blasphemous. Now Pakistan is hardly an example of a country with a rule of law, but what of more orderly Islamic countries, say one where legal processes based on sharia are more orderly in judging words and actions? Unfortunately, Islam has a rather broad concept of blasphemy. Whereas in the West, "Blasphemy has been understood classically as manifesting contempt for God or, worse, assuming the attributes of God," in the Islamic world, any criticism of Muhammad is also blasphemy, so if one dare even question the moral propriety of Muhammad having consummated his marriage to Aisha when she was only nine years old, one can be put to death. Since Islam is based on the Qur'an as the direct word of Allah and the on the words and deeds of the Muslim prophet Muhammad as the perfect human being, then any criticism or questioning of some purportedly Islamic position could easily get the speaker charged with blasphemy. By extension, any words that might be construed as advocating views incompatible with Islam could get the speaker accused of blasphemy. The Muslim concept of blasphemy is thus implicitly a very far-reaching one, boundlessly elastic in what it can be stretched to cover.

I therefore suspect that readers can easily see how laws against blasphemy would dampen free speech and counter democratic practices.

China must "break the tyrannical spell cast by Mao Zedong"

2011-12-30T07:44:00.001+09:00

Robert Bellah

Home Page

I see that my old Berkeley advisor Robert Bellah was quoted in a New York Times column yesterday, or at least in my Thursday issue of the International Herald Tribune, but the online version of the Times posted the column on Wednesday.

In any case, the column, "Mao's Spell and the Need to Break It," by Didi Kirsten Tatlow, is recent, and I discovered that Bellah was in China, also recently, where he gave a talk based on his magnum opus that was published this past September, Religion in Human Evolution, which deals -- among various religious and moral systems -- with Confucianism and other Chinese systems of ethics and religion. I'm particularly interested because I saw much of the book in manuscript form, looking for typos and offering minor feedback. Anyway, Bellah's book was quite warmly received by the Chinese authorities:

The emphasis in his book on Chinese tradition as a contemporary guide was warmly welcomed in a recent essay in the state-run newspaper China Daily, in which the writer, Zhang Zhouxiang, argued, perhaps pointedly, that [Bellah's emphasis on manners or rituals, the concept] li[,] justifies the ruler's right to rule but that the ruler also has an obligation to treat his subjects well.

That's rather interesting, in light of Bellah's view that China "must break the tyrannical spell cast by Mao Zedong":

In the book, Mr. Bellah notes the parallels between Mao and [Emperor] Qin Shihuangdi, a follower of the Legalist philosophy, which taught that only harsh punishments could keep people in line and provide effective government. The Qin emperor silenced criticism, burned books and buried scholars alive, while Mao, who admired the emperor, once boasted that he had caused the death of more scholars than Qin Shihuangdi.

Mao's legacy, unfortunately, is inherited by China's Communist Party, which has yet to disavow Mao, and that poses a dilemma. Disavow Mao, and the party itself is disavowed, for it is Mao's creation. Don't disavow Mao, and the party is morally destitute, for it is Mao's creation. Bellah doesn't set forth a dilemma, but he notes a related problem:

"Turning away from Legalism and Mao is going to be a challenge, because they haven't worked their way through the Mao period," said Mr. Bellah . . . . "His picture is still there, and they want to separate the good from the bad part of Mao Thought. Well, sorry, you can't. You've got to break the spell . . . . I think China has to face the fact that Mao was a monster, one of the worst people in human history."

This is particularly a problem for China's leaders because they still emphasize the thought of Mao and Marxism as offering moral authority and guidance, as Bellah notes:

Chinese leaders, who are officially atheist, assume that they have a moral system in place already, he said. "The fact that Marx is taught at every level, from kindergarten to university, shows that they think they have a civil religion. The fact that to many Chinese it's a joke and they don't take it seriously shows they have a problem on their hands."

The Communist leadership's dawning recognition of that problem might explain that recent essay by Zhang Zhouxiang in the China Daily praising Bellah's emphasis upon li. Bellah's views are broader than that as to what constitutes the moral basis of a civilization, and in response to Tatlow's query on what China's future moral basis might be if that country is to step into its role as a legitimate world leader:

Mr. Bellah offered the traditional Chinese concepts of tian, or heaven; li, manners or rituals; and yi, justice, as some building blocks of morality.

To emphasize manners and rituals (le) without grounding them in something greater, justice (yi) confirmed by heaven (tian), would pose the danger of falling again into the Legalist philosophy by another name, with "the Communist Party rel[ying] . . . on people's fear of social chaos to justify its controls."

The Chinese people themselves seem to recognize the need for moral authority, for as Tatlow notes, "spiritual traditions are flourishing, including Buddhism, Confucianism, Daoism and folk religions, as well as Christianity and even Bahai." The very search implies that people are "morally adrift, with the 'eviscerated' Marxism of the Communist Party failing to provide the framework for a functioning set of beliefs," writes Tatlow, summarizing Bellah. But perhaps we can expect more attention to these issues among thoughtful Chinese:

Mr. Bellah said he was deeply impressed by the forward-looking optimism and -- relatively -- free debate he saw in China among intellectuals and students.

If free debate grows into a culture of discussion, then the problem can be analyzed and addressed by the Chinese themselves, but the Communist Party will have to relinquish some controls on free speech for that to develop.

En-Uk's "Green Tangerine"

2011-12-29T04:52:00.001+09:00

My Green Tangerine

En-Uk Sequoya Hwang

My twelve-year-old son maintains an art blog, as most readers already know, and a couple of days ago, he couldn't think of anything to draw. My wife had just gotten delivery of a large box of tangerines, however, and that reminded me of an old, private joke of mine, a wordplay that I'd kept to myself for at least forty-two years but was finally ready to share with the world, so I told En-Uk to draw a green tangerine, which he did and which you see above. I then had him link to that weird sixties song by The Lemon Pipers from 1968, "My Green Tambourine," as I also did above under the image with the words "My Green Tangerine, that being my quirky, punning joke. Just in case any readers are interested, here are the lyrics:

Drop your silver in my tambourine
Help a poor man fill his pretty dream
Give me pennies I'll take anything
Now listen while I play
My green tambourine

Watch the jingle jangle start to shine
Reflections of the music that is mine
When you toss a coin you'll hear it sing
Now listen while I play
My green tambourine

Drop a dime before I walk away
Any song you want I'll gladly play
Money feeds my music machine
Now listen while I play
My green tambourine
Listen and I'll play

I used to sing this to myself, replacing the words "my green tambourine" with the words "my green tangerine" and smile at my little jokey rebellion against the sixties.

I was young, I was American . . .

Maggie Thatcher, Milk Snatcher!

2011-12-28T04:32:00.001+09:00

Margaret Thatcher

Electoral Victory 1979

Peter Marlow / Magnum

Newsweek

I still recall that chant by her opponents, dating from 1971, I think, when Margaret Thatcher was appointed Secretary of State for Education and Science in the Heath administration and attempted to cut spending for nonacademic things, including the free milk program for elementary students. Of course, I was too young to be aware of Thatcher at the time, being merely an eighth grader in the isolated Ozarks, and I learned of Thatcher's 'milk-snatching' intentions only later, around 1979, when she became Britain's Prime Minister and I was old enough to have developed some political views and to take an interest in international politics. Having benefitted from free milk as a poor young elementary student, I instinctively disliked Thatcher's conservative politics and found my attention grabbed by the chant.

Now, much older, perhaps slightly wiser, and confronted by the Korean Left's insistence on 'free' lunches for all elementary school students in Seoul, I mutter, "Free lunches? There is no free lunch! Where will the money for these 'free' lunches come from?" As a taxpayer, I know, of course. From me . . . and everybody else, more or less. But in the long run, as society ages in a country whose birthrate is below replacement level, I raise the same question: "Where will all that money come from?" So, I look at Thatcher with different eyes . . .

Newsweek has a fascinating article by Amanda Foreman on this woman whom the Soviets called The Iron Lady: "The New Thatcher Era" (December 26, 2011 - January 2, 2012). Readers can go to the link to read the entire article on how Thatcher predicted the European Union's current problems, so I'll just note an anecdote by Meryl Streep, who plays Thatcher in a new film, for Streep happened to see Thatcher give a speech in 2001, one of the many speeches that she gave after leaving public office:

After she left office, Thatcher's chief occupation became giving speeches, lots and lots of speeches, for lots and lots of money. Streep happened to stumble on one such event while visiting her daughter at Northwestern University: "She delivered the lecture, which was smooth and very controlled. And then she started to take questions. She continued for over an hour and a half, gaining in animation and zeal as she went on. I thought, oh my God, she's absolutely formidable."

In retrospect, I think so, too. She was formidable, great, towering over the men of her era. I didn't appreciate her enough at the time, and I'm saddened to hear of her decline due to the blight of Alzheimers.

I even went out and bought her biography for my daughter, hoping to provide motivation . . .

Václav Havel: Living in Truth

2011-12-27T04:37:00.001+09:00

Václav Havel
October 5, 1936 - December 18 2011

Salon

Havel was one of my heros though I know far less about his life and works than I ought. Life is short, my reading list long.

I paid more attention to him and his writings when I was living in Europe, between 1986 and 1995, though usually only what I came across in one of the many newspapers that I read back in those largely pre-internet days. He was in the news a great deal as Communism fell in Eastern Europe, so there was a lot on him as he moved from dissident prisoner to president of Czechoslovakia within a matter of months. I now have more access, due to the internet, but far less time, so I've read less of him in more recent years.

He died only a couple of weeks ago, as everyone knows, and I was moved to look for something appropriate to mark his passing, so when I found these words of his from a 2008 interview conducted by a fellow ex-dissident, Adam Michnik, in which Michnik asked Havel what advice he would give to a young person today on how to live, I had what I needed:

The basic imperative:

"To live in truth"

[This] has its tradition in Czech philosophy but basically has biblical roots -- it does not mean just the possession or communication of information. Because information, like a virus, circulates in the air so one person may absorb more and another one less. Truth, however, is a different matter because we guarantee it with our own self. Truth is based on responsibility. And that is an imperative that is valid in every age. Obviously, it takes slightly different forms today. Luckily, you don’t have to hang portraits of a Havel, or a Klaus or a Kaczyński in the shop windows anymore and of course we no longer live under totalitarian pressure -- but that doesn't mean we've won. We still need what I refer to as an "existential revolution" even though it might look different in different places.

But basically, what matters is that you have to stand up for what you believe is the truth. (Adam Michnik, "After the Velvet, an Existential Revolution?" Gazeta Wyborcza, November 20, 2008)

To live in truth. A high calling, not easy to harken to since one might also have to die for truth, but Havel lived this imperative despite the risk, and so should we.

Requiescat In Pace, Havel. You've earned it if anyone has.

Christmas Greetings from Terrance Lindall

2011-12-26T04:15:00.001+09:00

'Tis Boxing Day here across the International Date Line, but I've posted these Christmas Greetings emailed to me (and others on his e-list) by Terrance Lindall, an image from his ongoing aesthetic commentary on John Milton's Paradise Lost:

Dear Friends,

Merry Xmas Day!

This is the Enamoured page form the Wickenheiser Elephant Folio.

God gave the gift of creation and invention to Lucifer. That is the gift of godhood. Only gods can create ex nihilo. Upon the birth of the Son in Heaven, Lucifer looked inward and opened this gift of creation from God and discovered to his joy SIN!

May you open your own presents with such joy on this Christmas day!! But may your greatest gift be the fruit of the motto of our great benefactor Yuko Nii, "PEACE, HARMONY AND UNITY."

Terrance

The words about Lucifer are somewhat tongue in cheek, of course, but Terrance is also actually making a good point on Satan's fall in Milton's epic poem -- the Devil's fall ensues upon sin springing to life from his own self-conception. Every spring brings a fall! Hence today's "Season's Greetings." Think about that . . . but not too deeply.

Merry Christmas to those of you still behind the times!

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T12:29:00.002+09:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

FOR 2011

FROM

GYPSY SCHOLAR

AND

FAMILY

Francis Beckwith on Hitchens

2011-12-24T06:19:00.002+09:00

Christopher Hitchens 2011

The Catholic Thing
Friday, December 23, 2011

The Catholic philosopher Francis J. Beckwith, writing "The God-Haunted Atheism of Christopher Hitchens" for The Catholic Thing, inquires about the source of the ethical values affirmed by Hitchens:

Hitchens writes that he and other atheists "believe with certainty that an ethical life can be lived without religion," thus implying that he and others have direct and incorrigible acquaintance with a natural moral law that informs their judgments about what counts as an ethical life.

But to speak of a natural moral law -- a set of abstract, immaterial, unchanging principles of human conduct that apply to all persons in all times and in all places -- seems oddly out of place in the universe that Hitchens claimed we occupy, a universe that is at bottom a purposeless vortex of matter, energy, and scientific laws that eventually spit out human beings.

I wouldn't have chosen the image of nature spitting out human beings since that manner of speaking likely denigrates the way in which Hitchens would have referred to the process of nature by which human beings came into existence. No need to cast aspersions on the universe!

But Beckwith has a point. Note that he does not accuse Hitchens of being some sort of moral reprobate. What he argues, instead, is that Hitchens implicitly appeals to moral purpose:

[T]o speak of an ethical life is to say that morality is more than rule keeping, that it involves the shape and formation of one's character consistent with a human being's proper end. But proper ends require intrinsic purposes, just the sorts of things that a theistic philosophy of nature affirms and Hitchens' philosophical naturalism denies.

Taking as a given that Hitchens does appeal to philosophical naturalism -- and let's infer that he does, since Beckwith is a scholar who ought to know what he's talking about -- then Hitchens was inconsistent in arguing both for philosophical naturalism and the ethical life, if he meant that both affirmations are objectively true.

This is the sort of problem that I was getting at in yesterday's blog entry. For better musings than my own on this issue raised by Beckwith, see what my friend Bill Vallicella has to say about ethics and philosophical naturalism.

As for me, I now have a lot of editing to do . . .

Roger Cohen on Christopher Hitchens

2011-12-23T04:07:00.001+09:00

Roger Cohen

New York Times

Writing for the New York Times in an article titled "The American Hitch" (December 19, 2011), Roger Cohen, like many others this week, remembered Christopher Hitchens for his thoughtfulness and generosity, though he admits that he didn't know the man well:

I did not know Hitchens well. The last time I saw him was at a boozy Brooklyn lunch hosted by my friends Gully Wells and Peter Foges, the couple he stayed with on coming to the United States in 1981. "You've got Scotch, haven't you?” he inquired, to which the reply was non-affirmative, a crisis overcome by a foray to the corner store for a bottle of Black Label, followed by a second expedition for the Perrier to accompany it.

"The best blended Scotch in the world," Hitchens murmured as he began the almost single-handed demolition of the bottle. He could be wrong -- even if he was always wrong with panache and for the right reasons -- but he was right about whisky.

Hitchens was right about a lot of things, and wrong about many others, but he was authentic, or seemed to be, for one never knows, but he had a special gift in common with Steve Jobs. The creative Mr. Jobs had the ability to make you feel, when buying an Apple product, that you were receiving the device directly from him, as though he had personally developed it expressly for you to have as a gift from him. Hitchens had that ability in his writings. You could read anything he'd written and feel that he was addressing you personally. I did, anyway, and I hazard to suggest that others felt the same.

And he took risks. Despite Alexander Cockburn's attempted take-down, to wit:

Attacking God? The big battles on that issue were fought one, two, even five hundred years ago when they burned Giordano Bruno at the stake in the Campo de' Fiore. A contrarian these days would be someone who staunchly argued for the existence of a Supreme Being.

Really? In what part of the world? Well, maybe in Europe (though less so year by year!), but certainly not anywhere among Muslims! Nor in the States, either. On that, Cohen pointedly observes:

Of course, he took on God, a dangerous occupation in the United States, declaring him not great and religion the product of a time when nobody "had the smallest idea what was going on."

Why was he against religion? His chosen title, God Is Not Great, implies that the Islamic conception of God, expressed in its chant, "Allahu Akbar"("God is Great"), was particularly on his mind, yet the book -- which I've not read -- deals with more than that, arguing against religion generally. But as for why he was against religion in general, I've read too little of Hitchens on that issue to know for sure, though Cohen explains a bit:

Like Einstein, he viewed ethics as "an exclusively human concern with no superhuman authority behind it," a position that sparked conflict with his journalist brother, Peter, who has argued that, "For a moral code to be effective, it must be attributed to, and vested in, a nonhuman source. It must be beyond the power of humanity to change it to suit itself."

Were I to side with brilliance in this family dispute, I'd be firmly on the side of Christopher, in company with Cohen:

I'm with the atheist Christopher against the believer Peter. It's precisely the vesting of morality in a nonhuman source that's dangerous because how then can you apply reason to temper the God-given absolutes that may lead to fanaticism?

I understand this position quite well because so many theists think the way that Christopher and Cohen suspect that they do. Too many theists follow reason up to a limit -- an ill-defined limit -- and somehow turn to 'faith' as a refuge from critical thought, a quasi-fundamentalist appeal to what they feel is the hard evidence of things fervently hoped for, and they presume to have direct insight into the mind of God, doubting not the consubstantiation of God's thoughts with their beliefs, recognizing no hermeneutical distinction between the two.

I could mention my freshman roommate who believed, concerning the Bible, that "God said it. I believe it. That settles it." Not every theist of that ilk is quite so bold as to phrase the issue like that, but many theists seem to think that way.

But if God is God, then he is rational. Otherwise, he is irrational, and thus not God. Faith must therefore be rational to approach God with security against fanaticism.

Otherwise, one is left with the fideistic view: "God said it. I believe it. That settles it." What then, except to fight over the 'truth' against those who think or believe differently, for if reason cannot serve as arbiter, then what is left but force? I suppose there's always indifference, but that unbespoke suit hardly fits the form of fervent belief.

To the extent that Cohen and Hitchens appeal to reason, I'm with these two atheists, but I disagree if they think this means there are no absolutes . . .

Sheikh Nader Tamimi: Let the Sheikh speak . . .

2011-12-22T06:39:00.002+09:00

Sheikh Nader Tamimi

MEMRI

Special Dispatch No.4372

December 20, 2011

. . . because we need to note his words concerning what the coming Muslim leader, the Caliph, will stand up and announce to the West:

"To the rulers of the West, this is the religion of Allah. Either you pay the jizya poll tax, or else we will bring the sword to your necks . . ."

Pleasant words, of course, and we ought to appreciate the good sheikh's advance notice, posted to the internet on December 15th, 2011. This sheikh is also a prophet, apparently, for the same report offers these words from October 20, 2000 concerning Bin Laden's words to the West prior to 9/11:

"What did bin Laden do? He said: 'I will strike the West' . . . . Has he become a terrorist?! . . . He says 'I want to fight the Jihad for the sake of Allah.' This must burst forth from the nation [of Islam], and not from the (rulers) palaces and corruption . . . . [My brother, our God said, 'Kill them where you find them' . . . . All the Muslim people must attack the common enemy. America is against us all. America must realize this. I issue a religious ruling now, and I am a mufti.] This is a religious ruling, so what is there for me to talk about? Anyone capable of doing so must strike at the target. He must strike at it -- otherwise everybody will sin."

The sheikh's words in brackets are from the same remarks made by him on October 20, 2000, but uttered a minute or so earlier. I moved them to clarify his point about being a mufti and therefore authorized to pronounce a religious ruling -- a fatwa, I presume. Be that as it may, I suspect that readers can see why I say that this sheikh is a 'prophet' whose words need to be noted.

That being the case, I reckon the Caliphate will be re-established sometime in the coming year . . .

Christmas Presence . . .

2011-12-21T05:46:00.001+09:00

My good old Baylor friend and fellow NoZe Brother Tim Anderson, now living in Spain, sent me a Christmas card of the Three Kings of Orient, who are already on their way to see the Christ child bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh -- gift-wrapped, no less! -- but who always arrive a couple of years late with news that precipitates a bit of political instability and occasions a rather unsettling event, which you can read about in Matthew 2:1-18, but let's not go there today and thereby disturb the holiday spirit. Instead, enjoy the card, which depicts these Oriental kings as speaking Spanish, English, and French. Odd . . . though if one looks far enough eastward, the West appears. Anyway, Tim writes:

I hope all is going well with you all and the latest developments up North will have a positive effect. Here is our Christmas card, a rendition of the 3 Kings by Jan (4 yrs).

Very lovely card! Thanks, Tim. Give my regards to the young artist, who has made East meet West.

I've been very busy this holiday season, but some of my editing work for journals is being appreciated, for I received an email yesterday evening with these words:

Every author thanks you for your proofreading . . . . [and] the author of . . . [one of the papers] said, "Your lovely English Studies prof had several very good suggestions to make, and the paper is considerably improved because of these. Please thank him for his work."

Nice praise, especially the part about being "lovely" . . . but I guess that this writer has never seen a photo of me.

Similar thanks arrived from one of my students. There had been some plagiarism by too many students on the first draft of a paper, but in the spirit of Christmas, I decided to toss out that first grade (many D-minuses) and allow all students in the class a second chance by having only their second draft count, which the class received as good tidings of great joy, a joy enhanced at seeing their final grades -- at least for this student:

I checked my grade this afternoon, and I was surprised at the result . . . . I don't know how to thank you for the final grade. I really couldn't expect that high grade. I got D- for the first draft because of my fault, and I was totally confused during the end of the semester. I'm really happy that you forgave my fault, and I could correct my essay the right way.

I'm not a Christian, but I really thank God that I could attend your class. Your class was the toughest class for my entire undergraduate course, but, it was also the most meaningful class that I learned the real joy of studying novel.

I already told in my course evaluation, but I want to tell you again. I really thank you for all your kind and patient help for my essay. I will keep the lesson that I learned in mind.

Hope you have a merry Christmas and a happy new year!!

Goodness! Who knew that a final grade could occasion a religious experience? Well, Christmas is nigh upon us, so miracles do happen . . .

[UPDATE: From Tim Anderson, a report as of December 21, 2011: "Jan was tickled pink to see his drawing on the internet!!!"]

Kim Jong-il: Revolutionary Art of Death

2011-12-20T04:57:00.001+09:00

Kim Jong-il

Some readers will recall this deathly image of Kim Jong-il from a couple of years ago, drawn and colored by my son, En-Uk, who was about ten years old at the time. In honor, therefore, of the death of Kim Jong-il, I thought that the occasion called for this work of art to be resurrected as somehow fitting.

Not everyone will be pleased to see it, I suppose, perhaps least of all a Swedish fellow who goes by the pseudonym "Revolutionärt äckel," which translates as "Revolutionary disgust," and who visited my blog a couple of days ago. He stumbled across one of my posts while conducting a Google search for:

women skirts north korera

I can't imagine what he might have been looking for, but what he found was my deeply ironical blogpost "Skirting Trouble in North Korea." He remained at my blog only 24 seconds, but that was long enough. Challenged by my ironic remarks about North Korea's shortlived attempt to prevent women from wearing pants, he wrote:

Propaganda. When my party has had meetings with north korea or went to north korea, our female comrades had pants. I know more about NK than you do, skirts are fashion there, just like leggings and tights jeans are fashion in western world. Do you see any white girls without tights jeans or leggings these days?

I don't see many 'white' girls these days, so I don't know about that, but to his contention that he knows more about North Korea than I do, I replied:

Braggert.

"But," I told myself, relenting a bit, "perhaps I am being too hasty, too quick in assuming that Scandinavians still brag like Beowulf in opening their word-hoard. After all, the man belongs to a party that has been to North Korea, so he must be an expert." I therefore visited his blog, Revolutionär konst, i.e., "Revolutionary art," which tells us:

Förord

Hej. Jag vill vara anonym av den enkla anledningen att det jag kommer lägga ut på denna blogg kommer att kunna rasera en karriär. Folk har hela tiden bara lekt med tankar, men dem vågar inte eftersom dem vet att fascisterna, med andra ord neo-liberalisterna kommer att straffa dem.

Jag är antirevisionist, antireformist, marxist-leninist och inspireras även av maoism. Jag vill inte berätta vilket parti jag är med i då detta kan få er att hitta mig väldigt fort, om någon kamrat till mig hittar denna blogg så, ja, det är jag. Var vänlig och säg ingenting om detta till dem andra. Tack!

Mina aktioner kan ses som sexuella för perversa mentalt rubbade människor som kommer att sitta runka till mina videor, imorgon kväll ska jag lägga ut min första video. Det här gör jag för att jag ser det som en konstnärlig aktion, och inget annat, det ni kommer att få se av mig är endast mina ben eller mina händer, händerna ska jag dölja med något för om någon ser mitt specifika särdrag på handen så kan man lätt identifiera mig om man har träffat mig på politiska evenemang eller tillsammans med mitt parti. Jag vill vara anonym med respekt för mina kamrater och parti.

En del av er kanske kommer hylla mina videor, andra kommer att hata dem. Kolla in här imorgon kväll. Jag har lyckats pricka in ett perfekt tillfälle dessutom, jag hoppas Hans Majestät tycker om lite lingonsylt till drinken. Om han inte gör det får han göra det ändå, vi arbetare får finna oss i hans fascistfasoner. Det är dags för honom att få igen all skit han gjort.

Hmmm . . . let's see if Google Translate can sort this out:

Foreword

Hello. I wish to remain anonymous for the simple reason that I will post on this blog will be able to destroy a career. People have always just played with tanks, but they dare not because they know that the fascists, in other words, neo-liberal revisionists will punish them.

I antirevisionist, anti-reformist, Marxist-Leninist and even inspired by Maoism. I will not tell you which party I'm in, as this can make you find me very quickly, if any friend of mine found this blog so, yes, that's me. Please do not say anything about this to the others. Thank you!

My actions can be seen as sexual perverts for mentally disturbed people who will be sitting j*rk off to my videos, tomorrow night I'll put out my first video.

This I do because I see it as an artistic action, and nothing else, what you will see of me is only my legs or my hands, the hands should I conceal with something because if someone sees my specific characteristics of the hand as one can easily identify me if you have met me on the political events or with my party. I wish to remain anonymous with respect for my peers and party.

Some of you might pay tribute to my videos, others will hate them. Check out here tomorrow night. I have managed to pinpoint the perfect opportunity also, I hope His Majesty likes a little lingonberry jam to drink. If he does not, he may do that anyway, we workers will find us in his Fascist airs. It is time for him to get back all the sh*t he did.

I guess that's a rought equivalent of the Swedish, and if so, I'm relieved to see that our new friend doesn't take himself too seriously, that he's neither full of self-importance nor overweening in his belief about what he can accomplish. Nor is he the sort to spout terms like "fascism" or define them in arbitrary ways. Nor is his political position grounded in aesthetic reaction rather than intellectual engagement. And I'm especially pleased to see that he's neither a Maoist-inspired, Marxist-Leninist antirevisionist resolutely opposed to reform nor, I hazard to infer, associated with North Korea's party of Juche (주체, jou-che), a position that would be so antirevisionistic as to nearly predate Marx himself. Excellent, if I reason right, for I doubt that our new friend would wish to man that particular fort now that Beloved Leader Kim Jong-il has passed on from his earthly reward to his more metaphysical one.

I hope our new friend, this Revolutionary Artist, enjoyed his 24-second visit at Gypsy Scholar and that he might return soon and offer his aesthetic views on the artwork above, views that I am sure will, in their wounded disgust, shed revolutionary light on everything, or as Georges Braque put it:

"L'art est une blessure qui devient une lumière."

"Art is a wound that becomes a light." I can't put it any better than that . . .

[UPDATE (December 22, 2011): Sometime after posting this entry above, I found time to view the video referred to by this Revolutionary Artist, and I now believe the 'Artist' to be a woman rather than a man, a woman deserving our pity, based on what I discovered in the video, and probably even a woman in need of long-term psychological counseling.]

"Korean is the world's most superior language"

2011-12-19T06:29:00.002+09:00

Professor Sohn Ho-min

University of Hawaii

Photo by Lee Sang-sub

Korea Herald

Astounding news from respected University of Hawaii professor of linguistics Sohn Ho-min:

"When we say Korean is superior, we are basing this on scientific examination. The Korean language's method of making sound through a combination of vowels and consonants is very scientific and economical, even."

And we can believe it because in this Korea Herald article, "Korean language scientifically superior," the reporter, Shin Hae-in, assures us that:

"As a scholar who has spent the past four decades studying his mother-tongue and language in general, professor Sohn Ho-min should know what he's talking about when he says Korean is the world's most superior language."

Unfortunately, the article never explains in what way the "combination of vowels and consonants" in Korean is "scientifically superior" because the term "scientific" remains undefined, unless this has some connection to "economical," but that term seems to be a separate adjective, intended to describe the language, not to define "scientific."

Moreover, I have to wonder if this reporter has really understood Professor Sohn Ho-min. Perhaps the good professor actually is a linguistic chauvinist, but a close reading of the entire article does not turn up an exact quote with Sohn claiming that "Korean is the world's most superior language." The reporter supposedly paraphrases Sohn as saying this, but no quote is provided.

I presume that Sohn was speaking in Korean, and I suspect that Sohn was talking not about the Korean language (한국말, Hangungmal), but about the Korean alphabet (한글, Hangul), instead. In that case, the statement by Sohn would read:

"The Korean alphabet's method of making sound through a combination of vowels and consonants is very scientific and economical, even."

If Sohn said that and maintained merely that "When we say the Korean alphabet is superior, we are basing this on scientific examination," then his statement is more reasonable, for he's not speaking of a natural language but of an invented alphabet, and he does not directly state that the Korean alphabet is "the world's most superior" alphabet.

Sohn might, of course, actually mean that it is "the world's most superior" alphabet, and if so, then his statement is the problematic sort of nationalist claim that Koreans often make about Korea's writing system, i.e., Hangul, but offering only reasons that seem unconvincing to most non-Koreans.

But I'd need to know exactly what Sohn claimed.

Terrance Lindall's Lost Bifolia . . .

2011-12-18T05:55:00.000+09:00

Terrance Lindall was rummaging through his earlier oeuvre and sent me some images of what he'd found, along with permission to post them. I'll include his remarks, posted in block-quote form beneath each image. First comes the room of his rummaging:

Note those black tea and coffee urns. That's silver that has nor been polished in 35 years. The coffee urn belonged to the Tiny Tim Society, whatever that was.

A bit of alchemy will bring those 'Dorian Gray' urns to shine again, even while purifying the soul of its baser material. While Terrance contemplates those musings, let us go forth into the past and gaze into the outpourings of his amusing muse, what at first glance appears to stem from his days as illustrator for such magazines as Creepy . . . except for what Terrance tells us:

I once spent about a year writing notes for what I thought was going to be great philosophical short story. Recently in sorting my notes from the past forty years I came across it. It was about Beauty and the Beast. In it a man has a conversation with the animal side of his character. It is like Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamazov where the prince has a conversation with the devil. It was sort of like CS Lewis' Screwtape Letters too. The beast argued that all that is worthy comes about through desire passion and eagerness to possess, whether it is to possess beauty or love, or indulge in sensual pleasures, etc. The beast also argues that pursuit of knowledge also is by urge of the passions. Without desire, we desire nothing. Thus without the beast in us, our animal nature, life is empty and nothing. Fear is good too, we fear and run from pain and death. I have to go back and look at it. It is a jumble. It has some pen sketches of the beast too.

"A thing of Beauty is a joy forever." Is it? Or is it precious and beautiful because it is fleeting. Even if it is fleeting, is it still a joy forever? In what way? Is that just a poetic throw off or a philosophical truth? If one cannot believe it, is it good poetry?

Does not one become indifferent to beauty as one becomes indifferent to any stimulus? The animal in us becomes sated once glutted.

Interesting musings for a Beast. Perhaps alchemy is working its magic. I hope that Terrance returns to that story and reworks it. But let us turn to his Paradise Lost images. This one's titled "Satan Summoning His Legions" . . . but note the fullcaps caption:

SATAN SUMMONING HER TROOPS FROM OFF THE FIERY POOL

That's a bit unexpected, a differently gendered Satan! But why, after all, should we be sexist and always use the masculine for Satan? Anyway, on a sheet associated with this image are Terrance's musings on the theme of Paradise Lost -- and look, an alchemical trope!

No caption to that one, but you can click on the image and read what Terrance wrote. Let's move on to the next image, titled "Eve Sees Her Reflection" and reflect on its significance:

Again, no caption, but we can read of Eve's captured, captivating image below -- in the image of the writing itself as well as in Lindall's further musings, including remarks prefatory to the final image of Eve and the Serpent:

Eve is reflecting on her image in the pool. She is mesmerized by the beauty and yet is loathe to look, subconsciously aware that this is the fascination akin to that of a mesmerizing snake! Yes, there is fasciation and perhaps a bit of horror by the strong attraction she feels. Can this be lust? Horror and beauty are somehow related. Consider the swirling eddies of colliding star clusters in the galaxy -- creation and desctruction -- the beauty and the horror, Krishna and Kali, aspects of the same God! Notice in my final painting of Eve and the Serpent that they have the same blue irises for eyes! They are aspects of each other. Both are tempters. She is tempted by the Serpent and Adam is tempted by her. How many parallels are there?

Good questions about parallels between Eve and the Serpent, and these demonstrate something that I posted some years back, namely, that Terrance is an artist of ideas. Not all artist are, though all perhaps have conceptions of what they want to create, but Terrance has consciously thought-out ideas that fit together in a system of thought. He is an intellectual as well as an artist. And we see this all because he was cleaning house:

Looking behind a large piece of Victorian furniture I knew there was a shallow box standing upright that I thought contained our complete Fugaku hyakkei 'One hundred views of Mt. Fuji' by Hokusai.

No indeed, it contained my lost bifolia drawings of Paradise Lost. These were missing for about 20 years. The bifolia are \t 15 x 15 which, when you open the page, contains notes on the ideas illustrated on the first page.

"Bifolia," Terrance says.

"Biophilia," I say . . .

Christopher Hitchens: Requiescat In Pace

2011-12-17T06:57:00.001+09:00

Christopher Hitchens

(13 April 1949 – 15 December 2011)

Wikipedia

Christopher Hitchens has died of pneumonia, a complication of his throat cancer treatment, and I take this moment to offer my respects. I enjoyed reading his views as he expressed them, not because I always agreed but because he expressed himself so well, with such style, verve, nerve, and flair. Martin Kramer observes that "[t]here was much to admire and dislike about the late Christopher Hitchens," and I am put in mind of a stanza from Auden's poem "In Memory of W. B. Yeats," his tribute to that poet upon learning of his passing:

Time that with this strange excuse
Pardoned Kipling and his views,
And will pardon Paul Claudel,
Pardons him for writing well.

Curious what his enemies might have to say about him, I went to Christianity Today to read the tribute there by Douglas Wilson, who had debated Hitchens in 2007 on the question "Is Christianity Good for the World?" Wilson had these kind words for the man:

He was actually an affable and pleasant dinner companion, and fully capable of being the perfect gentleman. He was fully aware of the authority an enfant terrible could have, provided he played his cards right, and this was a strategy that Hitchens employed very well indeed. One man who delivers a terrible insult is banned from television for life, and another man, who does the same thing, has people lining up with invitations and microphones. In case anyone is wondering, Christopher was that second man.

I found Wilson's parting words rather gracious as well:

We therefore commend Christopher to the Judge of the whole earth, who will certainly do right. Christopher Eric Hitchens (1949-2011). R.I.P.

"Well, I say amen to that, sir," though in my pride and my prejudice, perhaps with a touch of sincere irony . . .

Korean Unification Gang . . .

2011-12-16T06:11:00.001+09:00

My scholarly friend Kim Myongsob, currently director of the Yonsei Institute for Korean Unification Studies (연세대학교 부설 통일연구원), which is housed in the same building as the Kim Dae Jung Presidential Library and Museum, asked me to meet with some of his masters students and offer advice on research writing, so I met with them and provided some guidance:

That's me in the cap, second from the left. First from the left is Choi Jaehoon, who works with the Korean police force and is studying terrorism with the intention of finding a job at Interpol, which doubtless keeps a sharp eye on North Korea's activities. Third from the left is Lim Honey, who is hiding from Big Brother and working on the puzzle of North Korea's continuing, mystifying existence! Fourth from the left is Chou Yuh Bin, of Taiwan, who wants to explain why so many non-Koreans think that Samsung is a Japanese firm (!) -- clearly essential for understanding North Korea (since the two Koreas get conflated, too). Fifth from the left is Jun Dae-jin, who studies international law and wants to apply the Right to Protect to North Korea, specifically, the Right to Rebuild if the North becomes a failed state. (If?) Sixth from the left is Jo Sung Gwun, a doctor of medicine who is interested in North Korea's health care system but is currently working on understanding diabetes (maybe Kim Jong-il can use some treatment). Seventh from the left is Yoon Kyeongwon, who is studying linguistics with the aim of teaching Korean better to English speakers, which has something to do with North Korea, I suppose, but you don't see him since he's so far right that he has disappeared out the door . . .

I was also soon caught on the way out, as you see from my 'deer-in-the-headlights' look as I adjust my bag:

The whole gang and I had such a nice time that we plan to meet again next week . . . at Craftworks Taphouse!

Sheikh Ahmad Abu Quddum: "There is indeed a clash of civilizations . . ."

2011-12-15T05:05:00.001+09:00

Sheikh Ahmad Abu Quddum

MEMRI

From MEMRI comes a report that "Sheikh Ahmad Abu Quddum of Jordan's Tahrir Party Discusses Jihad," Middle East Research Institute (Special Dispatch No. 4354, December 12, 2011):

"[Jihad] is in order to remove obstacles . . . . When we declare Jihad against . . . [a] state, for refusing to allow Islam to spread to the people . . . . [w]e give them a choice: Either to convert to Islam, or to pay the jizya and submit to the laws of Islam. The jizya is the . . . tax paid by non-Muslims . . . . We should fight the states and the armies . . . . [I]f a certain state insists on preventing the spread of Islam on its soil, we will fight that state . . . . [Samuel Huntington was right.] There is indeed a clash of civilizations . . . . If not for Jihad, Islam would not have reached us and all the other places. Within a quarter of a century, Islam reached most of the ancient world by means of Jihad . . . . [T]his is Islam's way of spreading . . . . [R]uling positions . . . are exclusively for Muslims. Anyone who is part of the rule –- the head of state, who is the Caliph, the empowered official, the executive official, the wali, or the governor –- must be a Muslim. Moreover, he must be a man . . . . The future belongs to Islam. The Islamic caliphate is bound to come, as was foretold by our Prophet Muhammad . . . . [T]here will be a caliphate following the path of the Prophet Muhammad."

When queried about the West's advantages by a political activist, Omar Abu Rassa, the sheikh retorted, "European countries live in prehistoric, pre-human times." When the activist pressed a bit further and asked about the West's "scientific accomplishments" and "freedom of thought," the sheikh asked, "What scientific accomplishments?! We [Muslims] brought them there." The report does not say if the sheikh also insists that Muslims brought freedom of thought to the West, but I assume that the sheikh's Tahrir Party is the same as the Hizb ut-Tahrir, the Party of Liberation, a Sunni pan-Islamic organization that has spread around the world, doubtless to bring true liberation of thought, i.e., submission to Islamic law.

I therefore infer that the good sheikh would also insist that Muslims bring authentic freedom of thought, the freedom to think whatever one wants to think so long as that thought remains a thought.

No freedom of speech, however . . .

Ian Buruma on Europe's Crisis

2011-12-14T03:57:00.000+09:00

Ian Buruma

Ian Buruma has an interesting article on the European Union for Project Syndicate, "Is the European dream dead?" (December 8th, 2011).

I say "interesting" because it echoes some of the points that I've made over the past few years in occasional posts. For instance, I've noted the need to enhance European identity if the EU is to survive, though I believe that such strengthening is possible if grounded in the traditions of Western Civilization, broadly interpreted and deepened, though this won't be easy, and doesn't appear to be working very well at the moment, as Buruma notes:

Since the EU is neither a nation-state nor a democracy, there is no "European people" to see the EU through hard times. Rich Germans and Dutch do not want to pay for the economic mess in which the Greeks, Portuguese, or Spanish now find themselves.

I wouldn't go so far as to declare that no European people exists. The Greeks, after all, got in for being who they are, one of the fountainheads of European Civilization. But the nations of the EU are flirting with nationalism and its risks, which I consider a latent danger in the European psyche, as Buruma also notes:

Instead of showing solidarity, . . . [the northern Europeans] moralize, as though all of the problems in Mediterranean Europe were the result of native laziness or its citizens' corrupt nature. As a result, the moralizers risk bringing the common roof down on Europe's head, and confronting the nationalist dangers that the EU was created to prevent.

National identities are not necessarily inconsistent with Western identity, but extremist views of nationalism will wreck the European project and set European against European. One way to increase a sense of European identity would be to give the people of Europe a greater role in EU politics. I've long argued that the EU suffers from a "democratic deficit" and thus needs more democracy . . . but how? Buruma has similar thoughts:

Europe must be fixed politically as much as financially. It is a cliché, but nonetheless true, that the EU suffers from a "democratic deficit." The problem is that democracy has only ever worked within nation-states. Nation-states need not be monocultural, or even monolingual. Think of Switzerland . . . . But democracy does require that citizens have a sense of belonging.

Is a stronger sense of belonging possible? Can Europe draw upon common traditions beyond its national differences for the sense of belonging needed to make a democracy work well enough for a greater sense of belonging to develop? Buruma also wonders:

Is this possible in a supra-national body like the EU? If the answer is no, it may be best to restore the sovereignty of individual European nation-states, give up on the common currency, and abandon a dream that is threatening to become a nightmare.

But there is a price to be paid for such a break-up:

Still, even if disbanding Europe were possible, it would come at enormous cost. Abandoning the euro, for example, would cripple the continent's banking system, affecting both Germany and the affluent north and the distressed countries in the south. And, if the Greek and Italian economies face difficult recoveries inside the eurozone, consider how hard it would be to repay euro-denominated debts with devalued drachmas or liras.

Quite apart from the financial aspects, there would be a real danger of throwing away the benefits that the EU has brought, particularly in terms of Europe's standing in the world. In isolation, European countries would have limited global significance. As a union, Europe still matters a great deal.

What, then, can be done? Buruma speculates:

The alternative to dismantling the EU is to strengthen it –- to pool the debt and create a European treasury. If European citizens are to accept this, however, the EU needs more democracy. But that depends upon a vital sense of European solidarity, which will not come from anthems, flags, or other gimmicks devised by bureaucrats in Brussels.

For starters, affluent northern Europeans have to be convinced that it is in their interest to strengthen the EU, as it certainly is. After all, they have benefited most from the euro, which has enabled them to export cheaply to southern Europeans. While it is up to national politicians to make this case, the EU's governing institutions in Brussels, Luxembourg, and Strasbourg also have to be brought closer to European citizens.

Perhaps Europeans could vote for members of the European Commission, with candidates campaigning in other countries, rather than just in their own. Perhaps Europeans could elect a president.

Buruma sees the difficulty, but reminds us of the stakes:

Democracy may seem like a mad dream in a community of 27 nation-states, and perhaps it is. But unless one is prepared to give up on building a more united Europe, it is surely worth considering.

We find Europe caught between a potentially impossible deeper union and a recognizably catastrophic threatening crack-up.

Which will it be?

Addiction: Tolerance and Withdrawal

2011-12-13T05:06:00.001+09:00

Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow

Intolerable Withdrawal?

Adolph Northen (1828-1876)

My Advanced English students recently handed in their final essays on a topic labeled "My Addiction."

Early this semester, we had read in our textbook a short article on addiction and learned that two key elements of genuine addiction are "tolerance" and "withdrawal." The article explained these quite clearly -- the former being the tendency over time to need more and more of a substance or behavior to obtain the same satisfaction and the latter being the painful physical and emotional symptoms associated with cessation of a substance or behavior.

This final essay was the second rewrite of the assignment. For their first essay, I had asked students to write on their 'addiction' -- prior to reading the article. The results were predictable. Most students called their habit an "addiction." We then read the article and learned the crucial elements "tolerance" and "withdrawal," and I asked the students to rewrite their essays with a definition paragraph in the body of the essay to clarify what an addiction is. Though not all students did so, most complied, but then failed to apply the two elements to their own 'addiction' to determine whether it was truly an addiction, or not.

I therefore had them rewrite again, telling them clearly what to do. I also warned them against using dictionary definitions and exhorted them to stick to the book's explanation. Most students complied, but a few didn't, including one clueless student who had previously included no definition paragraph and who then proceded to write the following explanation for the tolerance and withdrawal characteristic of an addiction:

If people rely on something, symptoms of tolerance and withdrawal begin to show. Tolerance has the meaning that 'tolerance is the practice of permitting a thing of which one disapproves, such as social, ethnic, sexual, or religious practices' in the dictionary. And it is causes that people are even more dependent on. This is the starting point in the addiction. Withdrawal has the meaning that 'A withdrawal may be undertaken as part of a general retreat, to consolidate forces, to occupy ground that is more easily defended, or to lead the enemy into an ambush.' When people ban dependent, this result(withdrawal) appears. And it is causes that make difficult to stop addiction.

I wrote above that this student was "clueless," and that judgment may have seemed harsh, but readers can now see that I wrote accurately. I had warned students that anyone who didn't include a definition paragraph using the textbook's explanation would get zero out of ten points, but I gave the student a 5.5 since the terms "tolerance" and "withdrawal" were used more or less correctly when this same student went of to discuss an addiction to a smart phone.

But how one can know the terms well enough to use them with roughly the correct meaning, yet define them formally using entirely different definitions lifted from a dictionary, entails a blindness to intellectual insight that I'll never comprehend!

At least, the essay offered an amusing diversion after dozens of similar definitions . . .

Poetry Break: "Illegal"

2011-12-12T06:03:00.001+09:00

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Poetry Foundation

I've long liked Tennyson's sharp, concise poem "The Eagle":

The Eagle
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

But despite liking it, I want to contradict it with a parody, a "paradiction":

Illegal
He grasps the rag with crooked hands;
Closed to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd by an assured whirl, he stands.

The wrinkled skin upon him crawls;
He washes plates from mounting walls,
And like a blunderdolt he falls.

That'll likely raise the hackles of some sensitive souls, but I worked as a dishwasher for three years, and I've sometimes in my life had to support myself as an 'undocumented' laborer, so I've got street cred and can compose this sort of poem.

If I feel like it . . .

Niall Ferguson for the euro?

2011-12-11T08:11:00.001+09:00

Niall Ferguson

Homepage

I see Niall Ferguson, usually a critic of the EU project, seems implicitly to support a monetary role for the European Central Bank, if I read his recent Newsweek column correctly: "The Fed's Critics Are Wrong: We Need to Avert Depression" (December 5, 2011). In that column, he supports monetary easing:

In normal times it would be legitimate to worry about the consequences of money printing and outsize debts. But history tells us these are anything but normal times.

Ferguson isn't just speaking about the US Federal Reserve:

[A]larmingly, German Chancellor Angela Merkel reiterated her opposition to monetary easing as well as to the creation of common "euro bonds." Her latest proposal is that each European state should set up a national debt-reduction fund.

In Ferguson's view, the politicians are setting out to repeat a bad stretch of history:

People often forget that the Great Depression . . . [had] two halves. The first half was dominated by the aftermath of the 1929 U.S. stock-market crash. The second half, which made the depression truly "great" in both its depth and its extent, began with the European banking crisis of 1931. To understand . . . you need to know this history . . . . [and] read Milton Friedman and Anna Schwartz's Monetary History of the United States, the single most important book about American financial history ever written . . . . [as well as] Barry Eichengreen's Golden Fetters: The Gold Standard and the Great Depression . . . . Friedman and Schwartz argued that the stock-market panic of 1929 turned into a depression because of avoidable errors by the Fed. Instead of easing monetary policy by cutting interest rates and buying bonds, the Fed tightened. The result was a catastrophic chain reaction of bank failures, which caused the money supply to contract by approximately a third, and economic output with it. Eichengreen's book tells . . . [how] the rules of the gold standard forced central banks to transmit the American shock around the world. Then an increasingly polarized political atmosphere made it impossible to reach agreements about the enormous war and reparations debts that weighed down European governments. Despite multiple international conferences, the global financial system collapsed. Countries recovered only when they abandoned the gold standard and focused on job creation.

Not only are political leaders like Merkel opposed to monetary easing, some politicians think that a return to the gold standard would provide 'real' money. Ferguson is relieved that central bankers understand economic history:

We are indeed fortunate that at least the world's leading central bankers have studied this history: not only Ben Bernanke but also the heads of the Bank of England, the Bank of Canada, and the European Central Bank.

But he worries about the world's political leaders:

The bad news is that so few politicians and voters understand what . . . [the bankers] are trying to do, or why. The even worse news is that central bankers by themselves may not be able to stop our depression from turning great.

Ferguson doesn't come out and directly state it, but if I read him right, he's saying that the euro needs to be saved and the only way to do so is to give the European Central Bank power over the eurozone's monetary policy.

An EU critic coming to the EU's rescue . . .

War and Peace?

2011-12-10T08:00:00.001+09:00

NPR Logo

My old Ozark friend Pete Hale sent me tidings of great joy for the holiday season: Peace On Earth.

I heard part of a "TOTN" [Talk of the Nation] interview on NPR [National Public Radio] today with Steven Pinker and Joshua Goldstein, on how much less violent the world is than, well, it used to be. Goldstein I don't know of, but I know Pinker is a monster [in the best sense of that word] and I've followed some of his stuff over the past few years. I might well have to get his book on this subject (they each have one out respectively) . . . . Anyhow, during the interview they talk about how the world may well be as non-violent as at any time in recorded history now; international economic connectedness being a huge driver, and an interesting bunch of other likely factors. Goldstein in particular dwelled on how the UN has really gotten GOOD at keeping peace (I swear, it almost seems quaint and odd to imagine an organization actually getting better at doing something over time, but clearly it does happen upon occasion . . .), and that it's made a real and evidently lasting difference.

Pete is referring to the books by Steven Pinker (The Better Angels of Our Nature) and Joshua Goldstein (Winning the War on War), both of which argue that the world has never been more peaceful. Readers with an interest in this issue can go directly to the NPR site and read the interview by "Conan the Nonbarbarian" of these two contrarians, for I'm just citing here a passage relevant to a recent post on the EU:

CONAN: Steven Pinker, Harvard college professor of psychology. And also with us, Joshua Goldstein, a professor emeritus of international relations at American University. You're listening to TALK OF THE NATION from NPR News. And this email from Michael in Spanish Fork, Utah: Looking at what's going on right now in Europe, one can't help but think that 70 years ago, similar issues were resolved with tanks and airplanes. In my opinion, economic interdependence has done more to mitigate violence than anything else.

GOLDSTEIN: Absolutely. The European story is just miraculous after centuries of bringing the world some of its biggest, most bloody conflicts. People there, it's not all economic. That's part of it, but people deliberately set out to integrate the continent, to make the countries dependent on each other and to build a common culture of Europe. And today, that French German border that was fought over with huge fortifications and massive armies crossing back and forth, now that border consists of a single sign by the side of the road that says Germany or France. By the way, you're crossing a border, which barely is a border. And this is remarkable, it's the dog that didn't bark. The thing that didn't happen, the war in Europe . . . that we don't pay attention to because it didn't happen, but it is the story, the things that are not happening that could have happened or that in the past would've happened . . . .

PINKER: Yeah. And for all the criticism that greed and capitalism and profit and materialism are subject to, we should remind ourselves that they're historically often better than rectifying historic injustices, promoting national or religious supremacy, bringing the kingdom of God to earth, and all kinds of spiritual motives that can do a lot more damage than people just wanting a good material life for themselves.

In light of the threatening collapse of the Euro Zone, this might focus a few minds on what's at stake if the Eurocrats fail . . . assuming that Pinker and Goldstein are correct, of course.

Hitchens feeling a little down in the mouth . . .

2011-12-09T03:57:00.001+09:00

Christopher Hitchens

Photo by Michael Stravato

(The New York Times)

Image from Vanity Fair

I read a poignant passage by Christopher Hitchens in a Vanity Fair article, "Trial of the Will" (January 2012), which he has written on his experience with treatment for his esophagal cancer:

I am typing this having just had an injection to try to reduce the pain in my arms, hands, and fingers. The chief side effect of this pain is numbness in the extremities, filling me with the not irrational fear that I shall lose the ability to write. Without that ability, I feel sure in advance, my "will to live" would be hugely attenuated. I often grandly say that writing is not just my living and my livelihood but my very life, and it's true. Almost like the threatened loss of my voice, which is currently being alleviated by some temporary injections into my vocal folds, I feel my personality and identity dissolving as I contemplate dead hands and the loss of the transmission belts that connect me to writing and thinking.

I'm no Hitchens, but on those mornings when I also feel a hitch in my style and can't type quite so normally as I'd like, when the progressive decline we call aging makes a premature visit just to remind me that it's out there lurking in my future, when I wonder how much time I've still got left to enjoy posting my right-hand thoughts for myself and the random reader who stumbles across these blog spots, I can almost find myself able to imagine how the man feels.

A bit morbid, I suspect . . .

The Religion of Pieces . . .

2011-12-08T04:59:00.001+09:00

Haraam Cucumber?

Bikya Masr

Just when you thought that the news couldn't get any weirder, the Egyptian-based news source Bikya Masr reports that "[a]n Islamic cleric residing in Europe said that women should not be close to bananas or cucumbers, in order to avoid any 'sexual thoughts.'"

In the report compiled by Manar Ammar, "Islamic cleric bans women from touching bananas, cucumbers for sexual resemblance" (December 6, 2011), we learn "that if women wish to eat these food items, a third party, preferably a male related to them such as their . . . father or husband, should cut the items into small pieces and serve."

Why? Well, because "these fruits and vegetables 'resemble the male penis'" -- though apparently not the female penis -- "and hence could arouse women or 'make them think of sex.'"

Right. We all know just how easily women can be led into thinking about sex. The thought would never occur to men, of course. That's why the cleric "also added carrots and zucchini to the list of forbidden foods for women."

Better not let this cleric know about certain mushrooms.

Personally, I would add peanuts, not for their appearance, but because the word "peanuts" sounds too much like "penis." For that matter, the word "penis" sounds too much like "penis" and should also be banned. In the interest of pure thoughts, this blog will henceforth refer to it as "that-thang-that-must-not-be-named." Hmmm . . . or maybe not. A long-handled name like this might make a woman think of "that-thang-that-must-not-be-named." Oops . . . this is getting hard. Um . . . I mean "difficult."

But how is one "to 'control' women when they are out shopping for groceries . . . if holding these items at the market would be bad for them"? Apparently, "[T]his matter is between them and God."

At last, a sensible remark from the cleric! If only he hadn't let himself come between women and God in the first place . . . a point that could be applied to Islam generally.

Merkel the Marathoner

2011-12-07T03:44:00.001+09:00

Pheidippides

First Marathon Runner

Wikipedia

Angela Merkel has compared the euro crisis as a "marathon," according to a report by Nicholas Kulish and Alan Cowell: "No quick fix for crisis in euro zone, Merkel says" (International Herald Tribune, December 3-4, 2011):

Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany, a central player in efforts to rescue Europe's single currency, on Friday ruled out a rapid solution to the euro zone's debt crisis, comparing the process to a runners' marathon and saying it could take years . . . . "Resolving the sovereign debt crisis is a process and this process will take years," Mrs. Merkel said . . . . Marathon runners, she said, believe that their efforts become particularly difficult after the "35 kilometer mark . . . . But they also say that you can get to the finish if you are conscious of the magnitude of the task from the very start."

I'm not going to hazard a suggestion on how the European Union should resolve its euro zone crisis, but I will say that a "marathon" is not the most useful analogy. Merkel takes the analogy rather literally, too. She speaks of its "magnitude" and apparantly means 42.195 kilometers, for she refers to the "35 kilometer mark." Merkel's view of this economic crisis is too static. She imagines a fixed timeline for the crisis, with a clear beginning and a clear end and precisely 42.195 kilometers from the former to the latter. But this crisis is not static; it is dynamic, and if the EU does not run more quickly, then the race could extend indefinitely . . . until the euro's collapse, of course.

We might also want to remember that Pheidippides, the first marathon runner, died upon finishing his run . . .

South Korea Cracks Down on Funny Howling Shleep Demons

2011-12-06T03:52:00.001+09:00

Engrish Papparazzi

Schlepping Around with a Camera

Photo by Jin Lee

CNNGO

My diplomatic childhood friend Deva Hupaylo, recalling that I like beer and that I'm living in Korea, put two and two together -- she always was good with numbers -- and sent me a link to this CNN report along with the advice that I can "make some beer money this way."

The CNNGO report, titled "Korea Tourism Organization wages war on 'Engrish'" (December 1, 2011), doesn't post the author's name, though the photo is by Jin Lee -- who I assume is the photographer "Jin Lee." The article is short, so I'll post it all:

Looks like Engrish.com -- the snarky website showcasing error-riddled English signs in Asia -- won't be getting as many submissions from Korea.

How awesome is this? Korea Tourism Organization (KTO) is offering to reward photographers who submit snaps of muddled signs at tourist spots.

The prize? A gift card of ₩50,000 (approximately US$45) that can be used at any vendor that accepts credit cards -- otherwise known as free money.

Although there are no hard-and-fast rules about what constitutes a "tourist spot," you can't go wrong with the usual foreigner hotspots of Myeong-dong and Itaewon.

To enter, create an ID on the Visit Korea website and submit a photograph of the garbled sign, along with its location. Although the event site is only displayed in Korean, foreigners are also welcome to participate in the event.

Submissions will be accepted for signs with mistakes in English, Japanese and Chinese.

Rather bizarrely, the event does not apply to mistakes on road signs, restaurant menus and guidebooks, due to the fact that these categories are overseen by other departments and this particular event is being hosted by the Tourism Service Improvement Team at KTO. The latter will then pay to have the signs fixed.

The contest runs until December 14. The 20 winners will be announced on December 22 on the Visit Korea homepage.

It's permissable to submit multiple entries with one ID.

Unfortunately for me, the website is in Korean, and I just know that my wife won't be sympathetic to a request that she sign us up for this contest, so I suppose that I'll just have to leave the job to those Korean papparazzi reported on by Choe Sang-hun: "Help Wanted: Busybodies With Cameras" (New York Times, September 28, 2011).

But some of you are still thinking, "Actually, Deva put one and one together . . . ." Fair enough, but not sufficiently idiomatic, and I never claimed to be good with numbers myself.

Greatest Line Ever!

2011-12-05T06:20:00.001+09:00

Nik Cohn

New York Times
Photo by Amy Arbus

December 2, 2011

I just came across the greatest line ever! I was reading Mark Rozzo's article on Nik Cohn for the New York Times, "Nik Cohn's Fever Dream" (December 2, 2011) . . . but first, I should note that Nik's father, Norman Cohn, wrote the great book The Pursuit of the Millennium, a study of millenial sects and their link to twentieth-century totalitarinism, which I read as a graduate student at Berkeley, back when my career was going to be that of a religious studies scholar. Nik himself could have had a career as a scholar -- having grown up among books -- but a chance hearing of rock music blaring from the open doors of some cafe in Derry, Ireland turned his life upside down. Or maybe downside up?

Either way, he quickly became a chronicler of rock music, focusing intently upon the present moment and making a lot of stuff up . . . or so he admits now. He must have been sharp-tongued back in those halcyon days, for Kit Lambert, manager of The Who, reportedly said of Cohn -- and this is the great line:

"If he did write your obituary, you'd be better off dead."

Sublime wit! By the way, Cohn -- like the John O'Brien whom I introduced yesterday -- likes the Irish writer Flann O'Brien! No relation, by the way, to John . . . or to Nik (not that you'd imagine there was).

And here's one final line of my own just so I don't end this post with a parenthesis . . .

Good News from Korea Literature Translation Institute . . .

2011-12-04T06:31:00.001+09:00

John O'Brien and Kim Joo-yeon

Korea Herald

November 30, 2011

I see from a recent Korea Herald article by Claire Lee, "American to publish Korean literature series in U.S." (November 30, 2011), that John O'Brien, founder of Dalkey Archive Press, has signed an agreement with Kim Joo-yeon, director of the Korea Literature Translation Institute (KLTI), to publish a Korean literature series in English. The plan is to publish 25 in a series simultaneously. That sounds like good news for my wife and me since it opens up the possibilities for publishing one of our translations! But wait . . . what's this? Dalkey Press is looking for a specific sort of literature?

Q: It's been said that you would use the word "subversive" for a one-word description for the kinds of books Dalkey publishes. What's the reason behind this and under what criteria did you select your choices for the upcoming series? What would you say to those who think such "unconventional" works' translations would be harder to market?

A: Years and years ago I was asked in an interview to find one word to describe the books that Dalkey publishes, and the closest I could come to a one-word description was "subversive." What I intended by "subversive" is that a reader is presented with something unpredictable in terms of character, style, and structure. The books that we publish usually make demands on the reader, but demands that I think good readers want from fiction. But yes, these kinds of books, whether translations or books originally written in English, are indeed harder to market, and this is due to the harsh reality that literature in general is harder to market in the United States, partially as a result of the ever-shrinking book-review space in newspapers and magazines. So, this is a challenge for us, and has always been a challenge. Readers look to Dalkey Archive books in order to find fiction that's different and satisfies particular aesthetic needs. The books that we selected for this series are ones that we believe at in keeping with the other books on our list, and it is a very impressive list of major authors from this century and the past one.

Subversive. Hmmm . . . have Sun-Ae and I translated anything subversive? Well, there is Jang Jung-il, but he might be too subversive, maybe even subversive. And he might belong to a different era already.

If you want to learn more about Mr. O'Brian, his literary tastes, and his vision for Dalkey Archive Press, the Los Angeles Times has a same-day, two-part interview in its "Jacket Copy: Books, authors and all things bookish": "John O'Brien of Dalkey Archive Press, Part 1" (July 16, 2009) and "John O'Brien of Dalkey Archive, part 2" (July 16, 2009)

Speaking of "Backslider's Wine" . . .

2011-12-03T05:30:00.001+09:00

Vernon Oxford

You Tube

. . . here's Vernon Oxford's version of Michael Martin Murphey's barroom lament:

Backslider's Wine

As the rain ruins my alibi,
I'm down to telling you my troubled mind.
It's not the sun-bright path
That bade me leave my home.
It's that fine Backslider's Wine.

My momma sings out in my memory.
Son, don't drink no red-eyed shine.
Fight for your rights
But just don't fight the past,
And do not drink Backslider's Wine.

I took myself to be a strong and loving soul
Till I found myself,
Face down on a barroom floor,
Crying o God what has become of me.
I dare not drink Backslider's Wine no more.

My momma sings out in my memory.
Son, don't drink no red-eyed shine.
Fight for your rights
But just don't fight the past.
Please don't drink Backslider's Wine.

And please don't drink Backslider's Wine.

This a bit different from my memory of the version sung by Jerry Jeff Walker, which I heard 35 years ago and loved but cannot locate on You Tube. I'm particularly uncertain of the line "But just don't fight the past," specifically "the past," which might be "the path" or even "to pass," and I'd appreciate any correction from some attuned soul with better ears than mine. But whatever the precise version, I reckon I can accept this honky-tonk one by Vernon Oxford since the fellow was born in the Arkansas Ozark town of Rogers.

Besides, I don't even know if Walker sings it like Murphey originally meant it . . .

In the future . . .

2011-12-02T03:34:00.001+09:00

Moore's Law

Extrapolating Future History

Wikipedia

Given my intense interest in history, I've sometimes worried that I don't pay sufficient attention to the future, so today's blog entry will be devoted to rectifying any deficiency on that score. Let's start with a prediction by noted futurologist David Byrne:

"In the future, everybody will think about love all the time."

Hmmm . . . I already do, so that future is now. Uh, wait, I'm confusing love with . . . oh, never mind. Let's get back to the future. Here's my prediction:

"In the future, dogs will be genetically engineered to speak."

So instead of barking at strangers, they'll just yell at them. That'll be weird . . . for a couple of days, after which it'll seem utterly normal.

Readers are welcome to add their own futurological predictions while I go off to finish grading those long research papers . . .

Massurealist Wine: Not Your Old "Backsliders Wine" . . .

2011-12-01T04:52:00.001+09:00

No, not "Backsliders Wine," but wine for drinking to the greater glory of God! The images below were sent by the surrealist artist Terrance Lindall, who's possibly drinking this fine wine as he works on his illustrations to accompany Milton's Paradise Lost, which you see in the background.

Here's what Terrance had to say:

James Seehafer, one of the brilliant protagonists (πρωταγωνιστή) of a very 21st century art movement, sent me a holiday case of his Massurealist wine. I am not sure if he owns the vineyard. Probably does, a fashionable gentleman of the world that he is. The label shows his signature shopping cart.

The other side explains the thesis of massurealism. and bears his Osterreich massurrealist postage stamp.

The label is also signed by James in silver.

Altogether it is a beautiful production!

You might find it interesting to read about this new idea in the arts. You can go to Wikipedia here: Massurrealism. I wrote an article about it a few years back. on Massurrealism and the Death of Art. It is posted on another brilliant surrealist's web-site (that of Bienvenido Bones Banez Jr.).

You can also go to the massurrealist web-site: Massurrealism.

Conveying this email from Terrance is about all that I have time for today, for I'm trying to finish grading 26 research papers of 20 to 25 pages each!

Michael Totten Interviews Ramez Atallah on Christians and Muslims in Egypt, Part II

2011-11-30T02:24:00.001+09:00

Ramez Atallah

General Director

The Bible Society of Egypt

Photo from Urbana

On November 17th, I posted an entry about Michael Totten's interview with Ramez Atallah on "The Christians of Egypt, Part I" (November 15, 2011). Totten has since posted part two: "The Christians of Egypt, Part II" (November 27, 2011). As I noted with my first posting on Ramez Atallah, he is a Protestant Christian and the General Director of the Bible Society of Egypt, and he has some interesting things to say, several of which were counterintuitive to me.

The most surprising thing in part one was his assertion that the West should not focus on human rights specifically for Christians, despite their oppressed condition as second-class cititzens, for Muslims would think that Christians were being favored over Muslims. He also stated that the Christians of Egypt could live with the Muslim Brotherhood, but not with the Salafists, a surprise to me since I figured that both Islamist types were bad for Christians, but Atallah made a distinction. Go read that first interview if you want to know more.

In part two, Atallah also has some interesting things to say. Particularly noteworthy is his remark about the difference between Islam in an Arabic and in a non-Arabic country:

Islam in an Arabic-speaking country is very different from Islam in a non-Arabic country . . . . Like I told you before, Islam is very close to people's identity, like your gender is for you. This is most true in Arabic countries because Islam is Arabic. They are intertwined. The language and the religion are intertwined. Arabic is the only language in the world that has been frozen for 1400 years. If you ask any child here what his hardest subject is in school, invariably he will say Arabic. You as a Westerner may scratch your head and wonder how Arabic can be the hardest subject in school in an Arab country, but it's because the language we speak and read in Egypt is so different from classical Arabic . . . . Exactly. And how many kids did you know who liked Latin in school? . . . And it's only a written language now. That's exactly what kids are doing when they study Arabic. We have this old language that is very far from what we read and speak every day. It is imposed on us. There is this mystique about it, that we have to know it and live it. Arabs are more closely aligned to Islam because their language, their culture, and their faith are all one.

Atallah picks up on a point that he made earlier, in part one of Totten's interview, and clarifies that the West should support human rights in Egypt rather than focusing on the rights specifically of persecuted Christian, and he explains why:

My point is, what will the government listen to more? Will America get a better result by pressing for freedom for Christians or freedom for Muslims? If you pressure Egypt only for Christian rights, Muslims here will say, "if they're your people, take them with you." But if Americans care about my Muslim friend's wife, the Muslims will be tongue-tied. They won't know how to argue with you about that.

Atallah makes some interesting points, and since he's a Christian Egyptian who's lived in both the West (Canada) and the Islamic world (Egypt), he's a man whose opinion should be carefully considered, particularly when he tells us:

I need you to please understand that Muslims hate it when the West speaks up for Christians. They absolutely despise it and we become the victims.

That is a crucial point that would never have occurred to me, and knowing it would make reading this interview worthwhile even if Atallah had said nothing else of importance.

But, of course, he does say other interesting things . . .

Linguistic Disability: Not an Excuse?

2011-11-29T05:32:00.001+09:00

Google Translate
The Real Expert

Wikipedia

In reaction to a recent article by Daniel Pipes at National Review Online, "Arabist Snobs: Languages are helpful, but don’t guarantee good analysis" (November 22, 2011), a dispute broke out over at the Marmot's Hole concerning the necessity of knowing the language of a country before passing oneself off as an expert, with some commenters implying that without knowledge of the language, an individual would have almost nothing of value to say, and suggesting that anyone who's lived in Korea for a decade or more really has no excuse for not knowing the language. Being one of those without excuse for my linguistic ignorance, I chose to take up the gauntlet, and wrote:

Some of us came to Korea at an older age, are very busy with work, and perhaps have little talent for learning foreign languages.

That describes me.

Of course, I don't claim to be a Korea expert . . . though after being with a Korean woman for nearly twenty years, living constantly in Korea for over ten years, teaching Korean students almost daily for over ten years, reading about Korean issues daily for over ten years, working with my wife as a translation team for articles and books from Korean into English for nearly ten years, and serving off and on as a Daesan Foundation judge concerning the literary quality of translated Korean literature for about five years, among other things, I might occasionally venture an opinion about Korea.

I'd also add that if we were to limit ourselves to expressing opinions only upon topics that we’ve studied deeply enough to be considered experts, we wouldn't have much to say, nor would there be much intercommunication across boundaries of expertise.

My friend Hamel, who is brilliant at languages and speaks flawless Korean, responded:

[I]t might not be unreasonable to expect that [such] a person would know more than taxi/supermarket Korean.

I replied:

Hamel, just read the first part again:

"Some of us came to Korea at an older age, are very busy with work, and perhaps have little talent for learning foreign languages.

That describes me."

Those of you with a gift for foreign languages simply have no experience with how difficult learning a foreign language can be for some of us.

You object that "it might not be unreasonable to expect that a person would know more than taxi/supermarket Korean."

Perhaps not, but life is not always reasonable, nor are talents reasonably distributed across populations.

Just try to imagine something for which you have no talent and which you find deeply frustrating. Perhaps math or chemistry or analytic philosophy. Could you master it? Perhaps . . . if you made it your consuming passion. But doing so would require all your time and energy.

For some of us, learning a foreign language is like that.

I don't doubt that those individuals with great linguistic ability, who can pick up a language within a year or so, are baffled at those of us who can't learn a language without years of intensive work, but there it is.

I'll just have to keep relying on Google Translate . . . and on Sun-Ae, my beloved Wortschatz.

Wherein we visit Benjamin Hale at Fortnight Journal . . .

2011-11-28T05:00:00.001+09:00

The Mysterious Mr. Hale

I have the above image from Fortnight Journal, a project that explains itself here, beginning with these words:

Fortnight is a non-profit, multimedia online project that documents promising members of the "millennial generation." By featuring 14 contributors each edition from 14 distinct disciplines, Fortnight showcases young people who will define the ideas of tomorrow. In doing so, we document an important shift: Millennials are the first generation to grow up with the Internet, yet will be the last to recall a time when it did not exist . . .

There's a lot more to read on that if you're so inclined, but perhaps you're wondering how I learned of this site. Did I spend hours surfing the internet for sites featuring Ben Hale? No. I received a head's up from Ben's father, one of my high school friends from back in the Ozarks:

I happened upon some interesting stuff of Ben's last night, collected at something called the Fortnight Journal, itself a pretty interesting piece of work that I plan to poke around in more if/when I ever get all the stuff currently in front of me read/watched/listened-to and digested, etc. Anyhow, I just listened to this audio piece that he logged there, and liked it a lot. I think I can remember him describing the bulk of this tale to me several years ago (you'd think something as flipped out as this would have more of a "Oh, yeah, he DEFINITELY told me about that!!" stature in my head, but, all I can say is, he's got a lot of stuff like this that he talks about when he and I are around each other, and, often they get talked about after a half a bottle or two of wine has been expended . . . so.), and I believe the whole thing is by and large coming from real experience in Iowa City. See (or hear in this case) what you think.

Well, that sounded intriguing enough for me to investigate further, so I clicked over to the FJ and listened to Ben read the piece that Pete recommended. This required about 40 minutes, but if you're in a hurry, a transcript exists for busy folk like you. The story involves a doppelgänger. And a larger mystery. And for some reason, the voice reminds me of Bruno Littlemore's manner of speaking . . . though more evolved. Anyway, the story's titled "Epistemological Promises," and it's a sort of metafiction -- as we used to call such things back in the 1980s -- in which Ben Hale plays himself caught up in a mystery that eventually gets solved without getting resolved. The story begins in a mundane manner:

I attended, and this semester I’m currently teaching at, Sarah Lawrence College, a tiny liberal arts school in Westchester County. While at Sarah Lawrence, I took a writing class from the novelist Brian Morton, who was one of the best writing teachers I’ve ever had. It was a class where the personalities of all the students in it just had a way of meshing well together, and I still have some great friends that I met in that class. Brian became a great friend, and a great help to me in many ways later on. When Brian moved from Brooklyn to a house in Westchester near to the Sarah Lawrence campus, I built a lot of bookshelves and furniture for him, and even wound up babysitting his two young kids. So I was pretty close with Brian at Sarah Lawrence . . .

I'll leave the rest for interested readers or auditors. Like Pete, I recommend it. Oh, I nearly forgot. There's also a video interview (cf. the image above) of Ben talking about Arkansas and his earliest memory, which is of lying as a baby in a buggy bumping along as he looks up into a blue sky and suddenly being fearfully aware of the infinite depth up there, or what seemed boundless, I suppose, and falling into terror at the possibility of falling . . .

Though there would be an intriguing irony in falling from the corrupt earth into the pristine heavens.

How the "Occupy" Protests Really Started . . .

2011-11-27T03:59:00.001+09:00

Caffeinated Protestor

"Dammit! I said 'two shots', not 'two extra shots'! You see what too much caffeine does to me!"

Frozen Ozark Waterfall

2011-11-26T05:43:00.001+09:00

November 2011

Photo by Tim Ernst
Available at Tim Ernst Poster Prints

Ozark weather must be turning cold, at least in pockets of higher altitude in the Boston Mountain region if this image above photographed and posted by Tim Ernst can be believed, and I believe it can since he doesn't do photoshopping. Note the blue glow at the top of the frozen falls. This indicates light from above refracting down through the ice. My use of "waterfall" and "falls" is perhaps not quite correct since this can't be much of a drop, not more than a few feet, I estimate. Your judgment may differ (and should differ, as I now learn from Cousin Bill, for this falls has a twenty-five-foot drop, roughly eight meters!). Anyway, I post it this cold morning in Seoul because I'm feeling a bit homesick . . . as the video to these lyrics will reveal if you click on the title:

Ozark Mountain Jubilee
Recorded by the Oak Ridge Boys
Written by Scott Anders and Roger Murrah

I hear the rooster crowing
It's a frosty morning
I can almost see the sign
Going so fast I can't stop
I'm just a stone's throw from Little Rock
Heading for the Missouri line

Don't need a map to get there
You can get there from anywhere
When you're going in your head
I can see the arms outreaching
Just like the day I was leaving
It's been oh so many years

Let me get on the Frisco Silver Dollar Line
Take my time
And see all I can see
Fiddler rosin up your bow
We'll have our own
Ozark Mountain Jubilee

If I can't be a favorite son
I'll be the prodigal one
Cause I been gone too long
Oh how the years have flown by
Oh how I realize
How much of me is gone

Let me get on the Frisco Silver Dollar Line
Take my time
And see all I can see
Fiddler rosin up your bow
We'll have our own
Ozark Mountain Jubilee

Ozark Mountain Jubilee . . .

Nostalgia, I suppose, is the label to apply to these feelings, but I try not to be self-indulgent. I just want to remind myself of where I come from . . .

Terrance Lindall - Paradise Lost Drawings from 1979

2011-11-25T03:14:00.001+09:00

Yesterday, Terrance Lindall sent me several images of Paradise Lost drawings dating from 1979. I hadn't realized that his artistic interest in John Milton's epic poem went back so many years, but already in the latter seventies, he was working on images representing scenes from the poem -- the same time as his work for Heavy Metal magazine, which suggests that art critics and future art historians as well as Milton scholars should study Terrance's Milton illustrations in the context of his 'secular' art, or vice-versa. But today, let's just look at some of his Milton works, and perhaps watch a few videos.

The first image sent -- whose original is in the Wickenheiser Collection and which is discussed by Terrance in this video -- is Eve and Apple and Snake:

The second image sent -- whose original is in the Yuko Nii Foundation Collection (and which might appear on the video linked above) -- is Eve 2:

The third image sent -- whose original is somewhere -- is Satan on Foal 2:

The fourth and final image sent --whose original is someplace or other -- is Raphael Full:

I'm not actually sure that "Full" is part of the title, but such would make some sense if Raphael had just eaten with Adam and Eve . . . I guess. But I've probably misunderstood. More images from 1979 are to be seen in this mostly 'Satanic' video. Indeed, Terrance goes on to talk in this video for about eight minutes about his rough sketches from 1979 that later became some of the paintings we've looked at on this blog. Certainly worth listening to . . .

Anyway, I feel privileged to post these on today's blog entry. Never back in the seventies when I first encountered some of Terrance's secular artwork did I ever imagine that we would one day become acquainted.

Ah, the miracles wrought by the internet . . .

Swept Away . . .

2011-11-24T04:36:00.001+09:00

"The Man Who Sailed His House"
GQ October 2011

True Story of Hiromitsu Shinkawa
By Michael Paterniti

Illustrations by Yuko Shimizu

"Later, lost far at sea, when you're trying to forget all you've left behind, the memory will bubble up unbidden: a village that once lay by the ocean . . ."

With these words begins the story of Hiromitsu Shinkawa, a man who, two days after the Japanese tsunami, "was found, alone, riding on nothing but the roof of his house," nearly ten miles out at sea. I remember reading of this man in the news at the time, something like the rumor of a distant miracle, the report of a very lucky man who had survived the tsunami, but Paterniti retells the tragic tale as though it were our own poignant memory.

Hiromitsu Shinkawa's home survived the earthquake, as he and his wife discovered in returning from work immediately after the shaking had ceased, and they had sufficient time to head for higher ground, but did not, trusting that their property lay far enough up from the sea to be safe even if a tsunami should strike, which it does, a wave so large beyond all expectations that it comes to sweep everything away, even us:

And that's when you know you've been caught out, that you've squandered what time you had, that you must trust this house of concrete you've built to stand up to the sea. Your wife joins you on the second-floor terrace, reporting that she, too, saw the neighbor's house wash away. "We should run," she says, but you say, "It's too late." And then: "We'll be fine." Her arms circle your waist and lock there, while you stand stock-straight, gazing at the mountain, without daring to look back at the sea. These will be your last words to her -- We'll be fine. And you've already departed your body when everything seems to break beneath your feet and a roaring force crashes over you.

You never see your wife again, as you, improbably, survive. I owe a hat tip to my friend Malcolm Pollack, without whose link I would probably never have read this "almost unbearably poignant tale of the Japanese tsunami."

How do you like them apples, Mister Hiss?

2011-11-23T02:52:00.001+09:00

Visionaire Issue 61: Larger Than Life

Marina Abramovic

If only Eve had been more like Lilith, she might have said, "Hell no, I don't want none of your stinkin' apples, Mister Hiss! I've a hunger of a different sort."

I saw this image of Marina Abramovic by Martin Schoeller in the New York Times, posted in a Suzy Menkes article, "Thinking, and Literally Looking, Very Big" (November 21, 2011), and just couldn't let pass an opportunity to bring in Milton's Paradise Lost . . . sort of.

The image comes originally from the magazine Visionaire, and you can click on a loud, flashly website to investigate further if you like that sort of thing.

Ms. Abramovic is a Serbian performance artist based in New York City . . .

Pinokio: More Art from En-Uk

2011-11-22T04:04:00.001+09:00

Pinokio

My artistically inclined son has recently posted an intriguing image and 'explanation' on his art blog. The image is the one above, titled "Pinokio" and thereby distinguished, sort of, from the literary figure Pinocchio, yet sharing with the latter some generic characteristics, as we see from En-Uk's description:

This drawing is called "Pinokio." I made this drawing because I read Pinokio a lot when I was young, and because it is kind of funny that if you lie then the nose gets bigger. The pinokio that I drew is blind. If you look at the eyes, then you can see that his eyes are closed. I think this pinokio is ugly. This pinokio is from En-Ukistan, and there are a lot of pinokios there. Ugly pinokios, and handsome pinokios . . . I think En-Ukistan is the best place to live. I wish some people would come to En-Ukistan. This pinokio is a boy, but pinokios are really hard to distinguish as man or woman. It's a hard life for pinokios. If a pinokio wants to become a person, it has to eat grass for 2000 years, but they usually die before the 2000th year. Well, I don't have anything to say anymore, so I guess bye!

Apparently, En-Uk read about Pinokio a lot when he was younger, but he must have been reading stories in Korean because I didn't know anything about this, which would also explain En-Uk's transliteration of the name, rather than the correct spelling "Pinocchio." Interestingly, En-Uk has worked in some Korean mythology, an allusion to the foundational myth of the Korean people, according to which, a bear and a tiger asked the god of the heavens for permission to become human, but only the bear succeeded in the assigned task of eating solely garlic and mugwort for 100 days and becoming a woman, who then married a son of the heavenly god and gave birth to Dangun, the first Korean.

This art post received a couple of amusing comments, the first by our artistically gifted friend Dario Rivarossa:

Very nice story, and . . .
I read Pinokio a lot when I was young

. . . hope you will still be reading it now that you are an old man. It is a book full of wisdom.

My wife and I were also both amused that twelve-year-old En-Uk would wax nostalgic about his youth. As for the second comment, it comes from the warped mind of another artistically gifted friend, Kevin Kim:

I can imagine two Pinocchios telling lies for hours and hours, growing their noses longer and longer, and eventually engaging in amazing nose/sword fights.

Depend on Kevin for some image inventive and bizarre! For readers wishing to try their hidden hand at equally amusing remarks, click over to En-Uk's Art Blog and type away!

The Pathfinder -- No, not James Fenimore Cooper!

2011-11-21T05:21:00.001+09:00

Pete Hale's Website

I've posted several times on Benjamin Hale's novel, The Evolution of Bruno Littlemore, and I intend to post more as soon as I have time to get back into re-reading it once this busy semester's over, but I've not posted about the creative work of Ben's father, my old friend Pete Hale. He's a physicist with expertise in lasers and goes by his business name Charley Hale -- just in case any readers are interested in doing business with him -- and he's currently reworking his website now that he's started his own small business, Pathfinder Research LLC, as he recently explained:

I'm increasingly gearing up my little website to get reasonably serious about selling my existing little laser R and D product, the "CoolCard" (I'm realizing you may not know about that site, it's down in my "main" site, which I'm also not sure you know of -- it's an amateurish effort at best to date, but gets the nominal job done at present, I think . . .) (mainly I need to get back in there and tone down the font size I used, which a smart-ass friend or two have told me, appears to be sized for the "vision impaired photonics community" -- ha, yeah, I guess it is . . .) (this BTW plays into the tired old lasers/photonics joke that runs, "Warning -- Avoid Laser with Remaining Eye" -- heh); I'm thinking I should make it possible for the dozen or two people on earth who NEED a CoolCard, to "buy it now" with a credit card . . . we'll see. I hate to see a % go to some bank, but, if it actually results in more sales, I reckon it would be worth it. The CoolCard has a storied history; I made the thing up (I can't quite bring myself to say "invented") in 1991, I find recently in my old notes I've had to dig up, and I did in fact sell about 30 of the things back in the mid-90's and up to about 2000 when I just got tired of trying to deal with it and way getting too busy at "real work" anyhow. But now in my ever-dicey new world of self-unemployment, I'm revisiting it big-time. It really is a very useful thing to folks out there in the world who deal with infrared lasers of a wide variety, so, I'll see what another concerted push might yield. And I definitely need to increase the price, lordy everything's gone up since the 90's!

As you can see by the red-fonting that I've added above, Pete is clearly a man who loves parenthetical remarks! Indeed, he apparently writes in parentheses, occasionally interrupting them to make a main point! I now see where Ben got his experimental literary style . . . and his interest in science.

Anyway, Pete -- or rather, Charley, since we're now discussing his business -- invented a cool device that he calls a "CoolCard" and describes here:

The ONLY hand-held infrared laser beam location and spatial evaluation technology for laser sources operating at wavelengths beyond 1.7 μm.

Well, I think that we can ALL use one of these, except for when we're dealing with wavelengths this side of 1.7 μm, which I'm usually not. But even if you don't need one at all (not even for wavelengths beyond 1.7 μm), check out this photo of Charley's CoolCard:

You see where the late Steve Jobs got his idea for the iPod's design . . . unless Charley was also influenced by the Braun T3 Pocket Radio designed by Dieter Rams. But I think Jobs more likely to have been directly influenced by Charley's device since both have a screen, unlike the Braun T3.

And we see that it really is a "cool" CoolCard (though a bit thick for a "card") . . . if we consider the designs of Rams and Jobs cool . . .

Baylor University publishes my opinion . . . sort of.

2011-11-20T04:41:00.001+09:00

Baylor Magazine
Fall 2011
Vol. 10, Issue 1

Some time back, I noted that my undergrad alma mater wanted my opinion on a question to which the above statement promises an answer. Apparently, Baylor didn't want just my opinion:

When we asked readers in our last issue to answer one simple question -- "Why does the world need Baylor?" -- we really didn't know what kinds of responses we would get. We were pleased to hear from every part of the Baylor family: alumni (young and old), faculty, staff, parents and even current students. And while many referenced Baylor's distinct place as a university that combines strong Christian faith with rigorous academics and research, that wasn't the only message we heard. The following pages give you a glimpse into how some of your fellow Bears responded.

Somewhat to my surprise, my response was printed in the hard copy. First, however, allow me to remind readers of what I wrote, which ought to be read carefully, with some attention to nuance:

Baylor University can be significant for the world if it successfully accomplishes three things that it's been attempting ever since I studied there in the latter 1970s. It must continue its commitment to the goal of being a great teaching institution. It must strengthen its commitment to the goal of being a great research institution. It must maintain its commitment to the goal of being a great Christian institution. Holding to these three will not be easy, for the tendency of other Protestant Christian universities, as they have developed into significant, respected centers of education, has been to lose their focus as Christian institutions, eventually secularizing themselves. Some might say that the attempt to reach the highest intellectual levels while remaining Christian is like trying to square the circle, for intellectual inquiry is an open-ended search for truth, whereas Christian doctrine is grounded in an unchanging revelation of truth. If Baylor can manage to do this, and also continue as a great center of teaching, then it has something significant to offer the world.

That also appears in the same format in the electronic version of Baylor Magazine, and I find my words factual, even matter of fact, and sedate. On page 24 of the hard copy, however, the same words have a slightly different appearance, a fine-tuning of my tone that subtly re-shapes the implications of what I say:

Baylor University can be significant for the world if it successfully accomplishes three things that it's been attempting ever since I studied there in the latter 1970s. It must continue its commitment to the goal of being a great teaching institution. It must strengthen its commitment to the goal of being a great research institution. It must maintain its commitment to the goal of being a great Christian institution. Holding to these three will not be easy, for the tendency of other Protestant Christian universities, as they have developed into significant, respected centers of education, has been to lose their focus as Christian institutions, eventually secularizing themselves. Some might say that the attempt to reach the highest intellectual levels while remaining Christian is like trying to square the circle, for intellectual inquiry is an open-ended search for truth, whereas Christian doctrine is grounded in an unchanging revelation of truth. If Baylor can manage to do this, and also continue as a great center of teaching, then it has something significant to offer the world.

The large bold font makes me appear to be raising my voice, of course, but more to the point, it puts all four phrases into the same voice, as though there were no nuance of distinction, whereas two different voices are used, the latter voice being that of a somewhat skeptical commenter who awaits to taste the proof in the pudding. As the text stands in this hard copy, I sound like a full-throated enthusiast for this as Baylor's mission to the world. My wife read it and remarked that I sound rather "pious."

I don't mean to complain, though, for I'm always fascinated to see what editors do with texts, such also being one of my own jobs . . .

Jeju Island: One of the New Seven Wonders of Nature?

2011-11-19T06:12:00.001+09:00

Horsehead Nebula

Wikipedia

Readers who keep up with Korean affairs will have heard the 'wonderful' news that Jeju Island is ahead in the running for one of the top seven natural wonders in a contest known as the "New7Wonders of Nature." The winners are determined by counting up votes received by telephone. Many non-Koreans who've visited Jeju Island will testify that the place is lovely and charming, yet demur that it might be one of the top seven wonders of nature. The issue has become quite controversial and is the subject of some rather heated debate over at the Marmot's Hole. I've grown weary of the chauvinism of many of the earthlings who gather at that rodents' watering hole, so I finally posted my genuine reaction:

I don't know why so many commenters persist in touting the relative merits of other spots around the world compared to Jeju Island. It's all so provincial.

The Great Red Spot of Jupiter is pretty neat for a persistent anticyclonic storm, and for my money, it's a greater natural wonder than anything on earth and surely deserves to be among the top wonders in the solar system. This storm has lasted for at least 181 years and possibly longer than 346 years, and it ranges from 24,000 to 40,000 kilometers east-to-west and 12,000 to 14,000 kilometers north-to-south, large enough to contain two or three planets the size of Earth!

But would I reckon it as one of the top seven? Ridiculous! While it's obviously better than Jeju Island, it isn't nearly as stunning as the rings of Saturn, and even those don't qualify among the seven greatest.

Besides, why're we limiting ourselves to just our little corner of the universe? The Horsehead Nebula is better than either Jupiter's Great Red Spot or Saturn's rings!

The egregious fact that Jeju Island won out over the truly awesome wonder that is the Horsehead Nebula simply proves just how biased this contest was. At 1,500 light years distant, who could afford the phone calls that would quickly mount up astronomically in cost? Even so, I think that the voting time should be extended by 3,000 years to allow any beings that might inhabit the Horsehead Nebula time to cast their vote.

It's only fair in such an unfair scam.

And that's how I truly feel about this issue!

Gypsy Scholar

On the frontlines "of this great Argument" -- finding myself among the New Milton Critics!

Paul Berman on Václav Havel's "screwy ideas"

Paradise Lost: "Fruit Uncropt and Fruit Cropt"

Ozark Spring House: Mild, Rainy Winter Day

The Polyglot Alexander Arguelles: Living on "unemployment checks and Korean translation work"

The Ironic Pitfalls of a Public Intellectual: Niall Ferguson on the the Blight of Divorce and Illegitimacy

Terrance Lindall and the Death of Art . . .

Poetry Break: "The Love Song of Hamel the Mammal"

Student Thank-You Note With Sketch

Kuwaiti Prince Abdullah al-Sabah Converts to Christianity?

The NoZe Comes Knocking

Appreciative Note from a Student: Research on Jean Webster

Condoleezza Rice to Baylor Students on Career Choice, Footnote by Gene Autry

Truth in Advertising?

Cousin Bill visits his parents . . .

Benjamin Sommer and the Johannine Divine Name applied to the Son

Williamsburg Circle of International Arts and Letters

Jakub Grygiel on the EU and European Identity

Expecting Rain . . . a "Hard Rain"!

Arrived: Bodies of God!

Paul Simon's 'Christian' Interests?

Terrance Lindall: Milton's Satan 'inspiring' the Serpent . . .

Dylan on Cash . . . Or?

Crystal Bridges Museum: A World-Class Museum in the Ozarks?

Step Aside, Girls' Generation, Here's Me N Ma Girls!

For the Love of a Warlord

Hair: "Do-Re-Mi"

Don't you lecture me!

John Milton: "The end then of Learning . . ."

Tilda Swinton

2011 Year's End: Chance Encounter with Bruno Littlemore!

Thomas F. Farr: Blasphemy and Democracy in the Islamic World

China must "break the tyrannical spell cast by Mao Zedong"

En-Uk's "Green Tangerine"

Maggie Thatcher, Milk Snatcher!

Václav Havel: Living in Truth

Christmas Greetings from Terrance Lindall

Merry Christmas!

Francis Beckwith﻿ on Hitchens

Roger Cohen on Christopher Hitchens

Sheikh Nader Tamimi: Let the Sheikh speak . . .

Christmas Presence . . .

Kim Jong-il: Revolutionary Art of Death

"Korean is the world's most superior language"

Terrance Lindall's Lost Bifolia . . .

Christopher Hitchens: Requiescat In Pace

Korean Unification Gang . . .

Sheikh Ahmad Abu Quddum: "There is indeed a clash of civilizations . . ."

Ian Buruma on Europe's Crisis

Addiction: Tolerance and Withdrawal

Poetry Break: "Illegal"

Niall Ferguson for the euro?

War and Peace?

Hitchens feeling a little down in the mouth . . .

The Religion of Pieces . . .

Merkel the Marathoner

South Korea Cracks Down on Funny Howling Shleep Demons

Greatest Line Ever!

Good News from Korea Literature Translation Institute . . .

Speaking of "Backslider's Wine" . . .

In the future . . .

Massurealist Wine: Not Your Old "Backsliders Wine" . . .

Michael Totten Interviews Ramez Atallah on Christians and Muslims in Egypt, Part II

Linguistic Disability: Not an Excuse?

Wherein we visit Benjamin Hale at Fortnight Journal . . .

How the "Occupy" Protests Really Started . . .

Frozen Ozark Waterfall

Terrance Lindall - Paradise Lost Drawings from 1979

Swept Away . . .

How do you like them apples, Mister Hiss?

Pinokio: More Art from En-Uk

The Pathfinder -- No, not James Fenimore Cooper!

Baylor University publishes my opinion . . . sort of.

Jeju Island: One of the New Seven Wonders of Nature?

Francis Beckwith on Hitchens