"One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star." Nietzsche
June 01, 2007
February 22, 2007
The ultimate hipster
You know, there's a lot of hipster talk. It kind of cracks me up, therefore intrigues me, but not to the point of actually reading about it, except on blogs, of course. So I have a vague idea about what it means to be a hipster and some of the cultural features of hipsterdom.
In a moment of karma (while reading blogs and watching quality children's programming), I had a point of revelation. Who is the ultimate hipster?
Spud, from Bob the Builder.
Bob the Builder is all about the team. "Can we fix it?" and the Team replies "Yes, we can." And everyone harmoniously works together to get the job done. The Glorification of the Team. Except for one problem that occasionally causes things to go awry. Spud is not a team player. He is counter-culture. Not only that, often he intentionally interferes with the team's efforts, especially if they cross his own desires.
Interestingly, in the Americanized Bob the Builder, Spud is the only one whose accent is left in his original British dialect, further highlight the cultural differences between Spud and the Team.
And Spud dresses like a hipster. Skinny. Close-fitting clothes. Spare yet unique. A scarf for extra flair. In stark contrast to his counterparts who are in fit shape and wear sensible work clothing (except for the machinery, that is). And Spud has an inflated head. heh, heh.
I haven't seen enough Bob the Builder to really get a handle on Spud's character, since our tv channel reception tends to be a bit wobbly. But these are some observations so far.
October 21, 2006
broader issues?
There was an article in the Times today about the Gallaudet protest. The headline reads "Turmoil at College for Deaf Reflects Broader Debate." (An aside: it's technically not a college, rather a university; granting graduate degrees and all that.)
So, guess what the broader debate is, according to the Times: cochlear implants.
No kidding! Far too much time is devoted to the cochlear implant issue in this article. Granted that is a somewhat controversial issue, it bears zero relevance to the main issue of the protest, the fact that Fernandes is an ineffective leader, especially of a university.
Kind of makes you wonder if a little spinning isn't at play?
Do read: Why is the Gallaudet Community protesting?"
It makes me kind of sad. For many people, their only contact with the protest, and, by extension, Deaf culture, will be the Times article, which is so off the wall.
October 17, 2006
"How America changed at 7:46 Tuesday"
I love the Christian Science Monitor! Who can resist a headline like that? It's downright poetic!
So America's 300millionth citizen was born. Though no one is sure who s/he is. Just the Census Bureau prediction. You know what I love about the article? It immediately launches into a discussion of diversity, economic, and environmental concerns. It's cautiously optimistic; there's a bouyant feeling when you think about Baby #300,000,000 lying all bundled up in a blanky and a diaper in a hospital somewhere. All too soon, however, the realities begin to siphon through this effervescence. What about the economy? the diverse legal status of America's workforce? and natural resources? These aren't problems that will go away.
As life in America becomes more complicated, it's a fight to live a simple life. What did we do before paper towels and prepackaged salad?
Currently my personal battle in the fight Live Simply is the quest for new dishcloths. I've been using the same ones since we were married, about five and a half years now. They're rag-bag worthy. (Yes, I have a rag-bag, too.) I cannot find a simple dishcloth in a store to save my life. It's all about the sponge now. You use them until they're gross and then throw them away. If you have a nice neat stack of dishcloths and towels, you can wake up in the morning to a clean sink and a fresh cloth and towel. I guess you could argue about the power and water that's used to clean the cloths. Maybe it isn't all that more economical in the end. Whatever. I like my matching cloths and towels even if they are totally worn out. So there. So much for my quest to Make Them Matter. I'm writing myself into a hole. Just stop!
Anyway, back to the Monitor, there's a brief series about this new landmark in our nation's social status.
September 28, 2006
Starbucks and Aldo
Currently pondering how much the Starbucks logo and the Aldine mermaid/siren thingy look alike. Coincidence? Subliminal message?
August 31, 2006
camel's milk and war rhetoric
The Christian Science Monitor is one of my favorite newspapers. While the rest of this country's banal media is obsessing about JonBenet Whatever, you get headline articles like this: "A new use for camel's milk: sell it abroad." It is about how nomads in Mauritania no longer have to sell off a camel for extra cash, selling the milk is proving not only financially beneficial to them but providing extended benefits to the whole community. Oh, where is Mauritania? I didn't know either. In fact, I don't think I'd ever heard of it before. It's a largish country in W. Africa, south of Morocco and north of Senegal. I just love that article about camel's milk in Mauritania gets to be up front in at least one newspaper in this country!
The other thing I love about the CSM is how thoughtful their articles are...not just columns or editorials. Even basic news-reporting. Today's paper had an article about the current status on the Iraq war rhetoric. Apparently, it's not about terrorism anymore (though that's still present; just not enough to build a rhetorical campaign on), it's about ideology. No kidding!! *sigh*
Anyway, so what's your book report about?
May 31, 2006
in baby sign news
(I just got comment spam advertising a place to go to order essays. Yea, you can order an essay so that you don't have to write one. Hmm. I wonder if I can order a thesis...)
Back in my previous life when I was commuting to grad school 85 miles each way almost every day, I had the little things in life to keep me sane: my little rituals that I did every day. I always filled my car with gas first thing in the morning(where are you, $1.35 a gallon!?!?), I saved my travel mug full of coffee or tea until mile 30 (because then I would have had to go to the bathroom before I got to school) and drank it along with a granola bar (how I wish I had Kashi back then). And I always listened to Morning Edition on NPR, except when news would be so ad nauseum the same thing (like an election or a stupid war in a Middle Eastern country) that I couldn't take it, but that was only occasionally. Listening to Morning Edition was like a cup of coffee, just part of the morning. Okay, so maybe it's a little cliche. Whatever.
It's really hard sometimes to be staying at home with the boy now. Sometimes, I just look at myself and am like dude, I'm a stay at home mom and it's so surreal. One of the hardest parts is having to impose my own schedule, and not having one I can slide into, one like a handy semester.
There's a radio in the kitchen. I've been better about our morning routine since I've been back from mad travels. I'm showered, and Ellis and I are both dressed by the time we go down for b'fast. And I can listen to Morning Edition on the radio while I empty a yogurt container into my hungry boy's mouth and simmer a pot of oatmeal for myself.
So anyway, on Morning Edition this morning they had something about how more parents are using signs with the young children affording them something to communicate with before they can say words, alleviating some frustration. This isn't really news, but it is noteworthy, as it is spreading in popularity.
The report kind of approached it weird, though. They started with a baby sign language class in the background, with quips from the teacher. And that sort of became the definition of normal. That is, parent wants to sign with baby, parent and baby sign up for baby sign language class. The author of the story on Morning Edition did say something about how lower-income families can't afford these expensive sign language classes and how they (whoever "they" are) are trying to make resources more available. This whole scenario struck me as weird. Yea, it's helpful to take a class if you want to learn ASL hardcore as a language. But there are so many simple, straightforward places to learn the few signs to you need for the purpose of baby signing.
Am I missing something about educated middle-class? Taking classes, signing up for this and that? Is that the norm? this gets kind of expensive rather quickly. I was a little disappointed in the radio report, because I felt like it gave a nuance to what is available for someone wanting to sign with their baby, a nuance with a price tag that is not accesible to everyone, and a price tag that simply doesn't have to be the case.
March 31, 2006
File under wish I had more time to blog about this
Yesterday morning on NPR they had a brief story about how Csections are up in the U.S., because women like the ease of scheduling their births and avoiding long labors. I realize the issue is complicated. My personal opinions are against that attitude toward Csections as unnecessarily putting the baby at risk. I think it's an irresponsible use of Csections, which I think should be viewed as emergency/life-and-death situation procedures. Anyway.
The thing I was disappointed in, though, was NPR's slightly nonchalant/slightly in favor of this attitude toward Csections. Choosing to interview women who chose that route based on faulty information they received: like vaginal delivery will give you gall bladder problems. (?)
Recovery from giving birth is no picnic without surgery. I can't imagine a Csection would improve things on that account. I can't even imagine what recovering from being shot in the back with big long needle is like (considering I was a total wimp when it came to getting over my pre-college tetanus shot). Any more added onto what I was recovery from (induced labor and stitches from an episiotomy) just seems awful.
So lots of personal bias in this post. Not enough time to siphon through it and read around a bit on what NPR was up with. (totally confusing sentence. sorry)
March 27, 2006
Mommy Persecution
Before we got kicked out
Originally uploaded by katiek2.
My wonderful, talented artist friend katiek (and mom of two extraordinaire) got kicked out of a public exhibit at the High Museum in Atlanta. The reason? no kids allowed. Apparently, the artist, who was there, doesn't like kids.
What's up with that!?!?
That's her pic of her two kids at the exhibit before they got kicked out. (seriously, who could kick out Josiah and Eden!? Aren't they the cutest!?)
I'm just trying to find a category in my head to fit this in, but it's not working.
It's really a travesty.
I feel like if I were more political science-y I could say some insightful things about culture and society, but right now, I just feel the need to highlight this craziness!
September 27, 2005
Beethoven and deafness
Maybe I should've posted this yesterday, but I was too busy, zipping off to Lancaster to visit my family for the rest of the afternoon.
In her comments yesterday, my mom ponders I just wonder is it easier to never have heard, than to hear and lose it?.
Beethoven had hearing. He was an accomplished musician at an early age, playing the piano deftly. As a young man, he began to lose his hearing. He wrote the following in 1802, when he was 32 years old. It is now known as the "Heiligenstadt Testament." In it he reflects to his brothers on his hearing, mourning and tormented by its loss. (I've highlighted certain portions in bold.) A year later, he wrote his Third Symphony, "Eroica" and five years later, Symphony No. 5. Legend has it (and I don't have the time or resources to double check at the moment; it's a nice story, at any rate) at the performance of his last symphony, the Ninth (you know, 'ode to joy'), he couldn't hear the applause and a member of the orchestra had to turn him around to see the exuberance of the audience. If he had lived now, there probably would've been help for him, but one can only imagine the great music playing inside that man's head.
For my brothers Carl and [Johann] Beethoven
Oh you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me. You do not know the secret cause which makes me seem that way to you. From childhood on, me heart and soul have been full of the tender feeling of goodwill, and I was ever inclined to accomplish great things. But, think that for six years now I have been hopelessly afflicted, made worse by senseless physicians, from year to year deceived with hopes of improvement, finally compelled to face the prospect of a lasting malady (whose cure will take years or, perhaps, be impossible). Though born with a fiery, active temperament, even susceptible to the diversions of society, I was soon compelled to withdraw myself, to live life alone. If at times I tried to forget all this, oh how harshly I was I flung back by the doubly sad experience of my bad hearing. Yet it was impossible for me to say to people, "Speak louder, shout, for I am deaf." Ah, how could I possibly admit an infirmity in the one sense which ought to be more perfect in me than others, a sense which I once possessed in the highest perfection, a perfection such as few in my profession enjoy or ever have enjoyed.--Oh I cannot do it; therefore forgive me when you see me draw back when I would have gladly mingled with you. My misfortune is doubly painful to me because I am bound to be misunderstood; for me there can be no relaxation with my fellow men, no refined conversations, no mutual exchange of ideas. I must live almost alone, like one who has been banished;
September 25, 2005
swirling and curling
My thoughts. They're swirling and curling. Now they're starting to keep me up at night. Insomnia is becoming more and more frequent. Struggling to go to sleep. Slipping in and out of sleep. Finally relief when Ellis wakes up, providing me an activity, a reason to be awake. Even if it's just to watch him roll-over and to set up right again, then to watch him fall back asleep.
Sleep is so precious, yet it is now also sacrificed. Everyone sleeps but me. Lately I've been feeling slowly drained and emptied. I'm tired. Looking into my baby's trusting eyes, I gladly give up a good night's sleep, an evening's relaxation, a day's work for him. But even he's asleep. It's my stupid thoughts that are keeping me up. At the end of the day, I've poured myself empty. Do I have to empty myself into the night, too? This has been such an exhausting year.
September 12, 2005
good thoughts
I appreciated Bill McClay's comments about Katrina's aftermath.
It's usually at this point (or sooner) in the game that I check out of a political discussion (as the hurricane has gotten to be). Nobody really can say anything. Everybody can find some evidence or twist some story to prove whatever they want to prove, so I don't really believe anybody. And since I don't really care to be on the front lines collecting my own data, nor do I want to read around enough of what everyone is saying to start to find the patterns, trends, and similar agendas to make sense of it all, I just check out. But every once in awhile, I stumble on some interesting thoughts that don't annoy me.
February 22, 2005
Blogging 'bout the war
Musicologist Bob Judd has started a blog about a Christian response to the war on Iraq (n.b. nothing about musicology). I'm very glad to read his comments. It's no surprise that I'm not a war fan nor a Bush fan, but I generally stay away from said topics because what I read is largely polemical and unthoughtful and annoyingly visceral. (I'll even plead guilty to having my moments.) What I appreciate about Bob's posts so far is that they are thoughtful, informed by a deep appreciation of Scripture and desire towards Christlikeness, and exactly what I would say if I could! :-) I hope his comments can start to bring this much needed aspect into these discussions in Christian circles. The Blogworld is a Smallworld, after all.
January 20, 2005
My Civic Duty
So I turned on the TV right after the solo and right before George said his vows. Then I watched the speech, listened to some of the band music and commentaries, and went off to teach my class. So I watched the main part of the inauguration. All I could think of was how cold everyone must've been sitting out there...and the poor Marine band with the cold metal instruments!!
I don't feel like I can articulate very well the problems and unsettlings I felt upon listening to the speech. I can offer some gut reactions, and keep thinking:
It's no news that I'm not a fan of Bush, and this morning did nothing to change it. It kind of freaked me out. Basically he could've titled the speech "Freedom for the Whole World," and the thesis could be: "If we want freedom in our country, we have to make sure that the whole world has our kind of freedom, or somebody might try to infringe on our freedom." Now I used the same word, freedom, repeatedly in my distillation of the thesis. Bush uses freedom, liberty, and democracy as synonyms, so you could re-read the statement as: "If we want democracy in our country, we have to make sure that the whole world has our kind of democracy, or somebody might to infringe on our democracy." It's a security thing, after all. Don't you want to be secure!? Export freedom and democracy today!!
I'm all for freedom. I'm glad I live in the U.S. and enjoy the freedoms I enjoy, but this idea of exporting a Western form democracy is freaky. It's a form of imperialism or colonialism essentially. It's the same idea that was behind the British Empire of the 19th/early 20th c. Taking the initiative to export your way of government is not necessarily a constructive way of living out one's ideal of Freedom=Good.
What was even more scary was Bush described this as the goal of U.S. policy!! Taking our Freedom and our Democracy to the ends of the world. Like he's spreading the gospel or something (only not). The GOAL of U.S. policy!??!?! The chief end of our government is to spread our government all over the world? That's what the speech said to me, and I wasn't too keen on that idea, because the consequences of this idea will essentially follow.
Bush said that it essentially our Moral Duty as a nation to uphold Freedom all over the world and that this Duty would underpin U.S. policy. So if tyrants stand in the way, knock 'em down. Tyrants are against Freedom, and we are for Freedom. It's a clear definition of good vs. evil.
But I don't think it is just that clear.
This may be part of the problem I had with the speech. Bush used very lofty, abstract, idealistic language. He spoke in the most general of terms. Throughout the speech he talks of Freedom, Democracy, and Liberty, but I still don't have a clear sense about what he means by those words. Democracy is probably the easiest to understand because we the working picture of government to fall back on, and I can only assume that he means something like our gov't when he says Democracy. But Freedom and Liberty? Those are big words with a lot of meaning, and from listening to his speech, I wonder if perhaps I see those words in slightly different shades than Bush does. I would have to think a bit further before I try to explain that difference, though.
Bush does say that when Democracy is exported all over the world, it will likely take on different shades as it encounters different cultures. I'm not sure if he understands what that means; I don't think anybody does. It might sound good as an idea, but none of us have a picture of how this looks. It's not happening in Iraq.* If anything Democracy is clashing with that culture. Democracy is essentially a Western institution. As far as I understand it,** it assumes things about the nature of an individual and that individual's function in society that is distinctly Western and humanistic. Every time Democracy flourishes in Western culture (Greece, the Enlightenment), it's with a very humanistic understanding of humans, how each human has rights pertaining to him/herself because of their humanity. Not every culture shares this essential part of the Democratic ideal.
Bush spent a few words talking about Freedom at home, not nearly as much as he talked about it abroad, which I thought was kind of weird, since he's the President of the U.S., not the President of the World. The stuff he said was kind of banal, predictable, and didn't really mean anything. Yea, who would disagree with better healthcare, retirements, education, housing? He didn't give me a better understanding about he saw those things happening, though, just that they should happen. (duh.)
The tone of speech didn't help me understand what he was going to do these next four years to make the U.S. a better place (except for knocking down the tyrants of the world), because he used such airy language. I did get somewhat of a better understanding of where he's coming from idealogically, though, and I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or not.
I mean, you can't say, "I hated his speech, because I don't want other countries to have Freedom." Freedom is good thing, right? I'm not down on Freedom. I'm glad I live in the U.S. and enjoy the freedoms I do enjoy. I'm just not sure if our national leader to be implementing this ideology in the practical way that he is.
At least it's a 4 year term, and not like a king, where he'd rule for his lifetime.
*After the speech the TV guys kept talking about "a rock", and I was like "what rock? what are they talking about it?" Then I realized they were saying "iraq". :P
**wh. may not be a vast understanding, since I spend most of political ponderings on monarchies of the Middle Ages
December 31, 2004
The end of the Year as we know it
It's the last day of 2004, and I feel like I ought to say a few introspective things or something, but all I can think of is--WHAT!? Already?!. Deep, huh? Yikes. When I was a kid I used to feel a bit more apocalyptic at the end of a year, feeling very acutely that one thing was irrevocably ending and another door of unknowns was opening. And when you're a kid, years are bigger, because they're longer. I feel less so now. I'll got to bed tonight and wake up tomorrow, same as I always do while God continues to bless the orbiting of the planets and rising of the sun.
What is time, anyway? It's a construct that humans have made in order to help them organize the passing of their lives. It's the end of a year for me, but not for the Chinese. So it doesn't seem all that gigantic after all. I do enjoy the chance to celebrate. We do need holidays to help us mark time. And I do enjoy getting a new calendar sometime next week when they're 80% off.
Nevertheless, a significant marker along the march of time is made in our little world. And I'm thankful for a lot of things this past year. God continues to provide for us, no matter how faithless we may be. And He's given us a baby to look forward to. I have a wonderful husband. And I'm very content. All these things and many more are huge blessings that I don't deserve, and I can only praise the Lord for His continued goodness, faithfulness, and mercy.
And I think I'll go to bed early tonight, because this baby He gave me sure does wear me out. :-) So Happy New Year!!!
December 14, 2004
My semi-annual trip to Walmart
I have already outlined several reasons why I hate Walmart, the last time I went there in August. I only a couple of times a year, because it takes many months to build enough optimism to return.
It does NOT save time! and it does NOT save money!
I don't know why I bother. Today I thought I would go, because it's supposed to be super cheap, and Christmas needs to be super cheap right now. So I loaded up with a list of various cookie-making, homemade-present making, and household supplies, and headed out to Walmart. I also thought it be would more convenient to go there since I needed grocery items and non-grocery items.
When I was in highschool, my friend Krista and I used to go to Walmart, get a bag of popcorn and wander around the store munching away. I thought to myself as I entered the store today, "I'm going to have a good attitude about this. I'll my popcorn and munch relaxedly through the store." Just getting a bag of popcorn is complicated. Of course, I wanted warm, fresh popcorn, so I went up to the counter. The lady in front of me took forever, because the woman behind the counter was making her order unnecessarily uncomplicated (they were out of hamburgers). After awhile it was finally my turn. I calmly asked for a bag of popcorn, and the woman asked if I wanted to taste it first. This seemed odd. Is there a reason I should want to taste it? She said, "It's sweet popcorn." I tasted a kernel. Sure enough. Gross. Not at all my ideal of the perfect snack. I did not like it. I wanted buttery and salty. Crushed and deflated and popcornless, I had to face shopping alone.
And, after wandering and wandering and wandering, I still come away with items on my list unfulfilled. They are so often OUT of things or just don't stock some things. After about 20 mins devoted just to finding the Christmas lights, I found a small corner with the few remaining strands of lights. Folks! It's the middle of December! It's time to have Christmas lights!! Not everybody buys theirs in October! I also couldn't find instant espresso powder (not too surprised), Andes mints, or Hershey's kisses wrapped in red and green foil.
All told, I spent well over an hour...probably close to 2 wandering around that horrid store. It does not save time. Especially when one is fervently looking for items they don't have.
It also does not save money. I usually do my grocery shopping at Whole Foods. It has a reputation for being pricey. Yea, some things cost a bit more. But I find, if you shop right (and cook right), you can be just as economical. I was surprised how some things weren't cheaper at Walmart. Now given the choice: would you rather buy something organic and all natural or something plastic and processed when they're the same price!? Walmart bills itself as being a total price saver. It's not. I could find the same value at Target--which is more organized, better stocked, cleaner, and friendlier.
Here ends my rant of the day.
November 06, 2004
Another Political Post: I'm on a roll now.
Even though I said the other day that it would be my one political post, I have continued thinking, and I would like to write about a few things that have come up over the past couple of days and that I think are quite relevant for Reformed Christians to think about. And since I have laryngitis, I'm not much good for talking about anything at the moment *croak*.
If the election had been about terrorism or the war in Iraq, I think Kerry would've won. Too much misinformation has been exposed lately about Bush's handling there, that I think undecided voters wouldn't have voted for him. But as the exit polls and the general political analysis since the election has shown, it wasn't about terrorism. It was about morals.
It struck me quite forcefully the other night. All of a sudden in a moment of epiphany, I remembered those videos we watched in "Self in Society" (core class at Cov, now, thankfully, extinct) about the Christian Coalition. They elected George W. Bush. They've been mobilizing for decades, and he is their Promised One. We really should be surprised that Kerry got so many votes. He, after all, represents the "Liberals" (read the "Anti-Christ").
The Christian Coalition provides a face for so many voters out there. Whether implicitly or expliticly, it has influenced the entire evangelical community deeply.
What is the Christian Coalition?
Continue reading "Another Political Post: I'm on a roll now." »
October 21, 2004
every person of spirit wants to ride a white horse
We have some family members who live their life in the business sector. We love them dearly, but sometimes when we expect the casual intonation of familial greetings, we get phrases that take us aback and that provide general amusement. For instance, has a family member ever called you to "confirm your call"?
It was recently suggested to me to read Strunk & White's Elements of Style on an annual basis. While I am in the painful process of revising a paper, I will do anything. In an effort to overcome "reviser's block", I picked up my copy this morning and started perusing.
Another segment of society that has constructed a language of its own is business. People in business say that tone cartridges are in short supply, that they have updated the next shipment of these cartridges, and that they will finalize their recommendations at the next meeting of the board. They are speaking a language familiar and dear to them. Its portentous nouns and verbs invest ordinary events with high adventure; executives walk among toner cartridges, caparisoned like knights. We should tolerate them--every person of spirit wants to ride a white horse. (Elements of Style, 4th ed., 82.)
This paragraph made me laugh out loud.*
*In my effort to have a little sport with another sector of society, I, in no way, intend to demean, to belittle, or to make light of in any way their valuable contribution to society--she said portentously.
October 19, 2004
On Writing
I am in the process of doing some polishing on the Hildegard paper for the conference this weekend. I had gotten it worked up as best I could, reworking it a fair amount since its initial incarnation as a term paper for the bane of my life Medieval Latin class last spring. In fact, I was starting to feel a little proud of how good I was getting at rewriting my own work--until I asked a professor to read it through for me.
Somehow I can't seem to get over the initial shock of seeing my work come back to me in pieces. ("Oh, my poor baby, let me coddle your shattered shards!") But in the end, it is always so much better. I am also realizing that this isn't necessarily a reflection of the worth of my work (or me, though I do my best to keep the two distinguished).
The background for such sensitivity towards my writing is based on my days as a deluded lower-classman in college. One day I woke up in my fourth (of five) year and realized that all this time I didn't really know what a thesis was! For nearly the majority of my college career I had been fooling myself into thinking that I knew how to write until the day I realized that, well, quite simply, that I didn't.
Writing is a craft. It is not something that is learned like one's multiplication tables, existing in defined parameters which one need only master. Writing is like building a ship. (Bear with me, now, we're on a Horatio Hornblower kick.) We start out learning how to build a raft--the 5 Paragraph Essay. Eventually we may move on to the row boat--perhaps the SIP. To think that we can jump from a row boat to a frigate is simply unrealistic. And as the boats become bigger, the boat-builder enlists more help. The wood tempers over time, and so do our words.
Because I have launched a row-boat, I think I can write, as if I have reached a moment of arrival, and perhaps it is not inappropriate to think of it as arriving, but only at a landmark along a long path.
I hope I never outgrow the sense of needing another's eyes to remeasure my planks. Learning how to write is an unfolding that I have barely begun to grasp. It is more than subjects and verbs and direct objects placed neatly in a row, rather it is conversation that exists along various stages of completion but always in a state of incompletion, for I will never have the final word.
October 04, 2004
To Mark the Spot
Two years ago from today I started blogging.
You can't read the first few months of my blogging, because I didn't import from Blogger when I switched to Covblogs. (Well you can, but I was preparing to import and then decided not to, so it's hard to read, and it's pretty dumb, which is why I decided not to import it).
Blogging isn't like just normal journaling. At least it isn't for me. Part of the reason I didn't import my early blogging days is because in a sense I hadn't found my "voice" yet. I didn't really have anything interesting to write for myself or for other people. The case has sometimes been made that our blogs are for ourselves. But I think if one is going to publish something on the world wide web, even if only a small audience stops by, there should some awareness that you are writing for readers outside yourself.
In fact, maybe that's what has been missing from journals growing up, why sometimes I roll my eyes at their breathless quality (because I know my life is more interesting than what I recorded on those pages). Quite simply, I've been missing readers, and the blogging medium has given them to me. Oh, thank you, my dear ones!
Maybe the impulse to share is with all journalers. This need is illustrated in such cliches as "Dear Diary". We all know the book can't hear the author or respond, nevertheless the book is addressed by a term of affection. The book is anthropomorphized into a reader. Many journalers will speak of their books in the fondest of terms. (See L. M. Montgomery's Emily books for a really dramatized version of this.)
And even better, the book becomes the reader you want it to be. The diary can be regarded so affectionately, because it is the creation of the author. The author can fall in love with the Book/Reader because he/she has made it in their image. (I've said more regarding the "Pygmalion" syndrome.)
Blogging is different, though. There are real, live people reading, and if I want to have a relationship with my computer screen, that's okay, but I have to understand that everyone else will know, too. However, "Dear Lighted Display Unit" doesn't really have quite the same ring as "Dear Blank Pages Waiting to be Filled." I can't SEE the memory on a blog account, but I can see the beckoning of blank pages, which is probably why I still am so passionate about buying blank books, regardless of their fill potential.
Because of this public nature of blogging I think I've been forced to become a better writer. (At least, I hope so!) And I hope I continue to develop, which is part of the reason I blog.
In other news, check out what the unique medium of a blog can be used for: A blog conference on 11D about work/family issues (and work often meaning "academic work").
UPDATE: Continue the conversation on Hackenstar's blog.
September 25, 2004
Music and Journalism
Recently a complimentary first issue of a magazine devoted to classical music happenings in New Orleans made it into my mailbox. Curious, I perused it a little detachedly. Small features of different programs were peppered throughout the publication. My eyes alighted onto an article briefing describing the program of an early music group here in NOLA (they're not that great, but I was curious to see what they were performing).
I quote directly: "It includes songs of troubadours and touveres, the traveling French minstrels of the 12th and 13th centuries, focusing on the works of Guillame Dufay, who is regarded as the first of the troubadours." I'm not kidding!!
Two glaring mishaps are staring at me in unblinking ignorance. The first I can forgive somewhat if I choose to read "the traveling Fr minstrels of the 12th and 13th centuries" as a phrase in a series rather than apposition with troubadours and trouveres, who were not minstrels and may not have been itinerant. Minstrels were a completely different social group of people pretty much on the equivalent of slaves/servants.
The second mistake is simply inexcusable for any publication that considers itself to be taken seriously. That would be the phrase, "Guillaume Dufay, who is regarded as the first of the troubadours." Guillaume Du Fay (this is now the accepted spelling of his name) was not a troubadour. There is no plainer way to say such. Du Fay lived from 1397-1474, a far cry from the 12th century! The author of this article is confusing Guillaume Du Fay with Guillaume IX, duke of Auquitaine (a patriarchal figure in the line to the great Eleanor, wife and mother to kingS). The confusion is obvious, they have the same first name. That's like confusing my sister Mary with the Blessed Virgin!! In order to hammer home the absurdity of this statement I will make an analogy from the world of art. Saying that Du Fay was the first great troubadour is like saying that Picasso was the first to use perspective in his paintings, a natural confusion since his name and Donatello's both end in "-o".*
My other encounter with music and jounalism comes from The New Yorker. I've never been a fan of Alex Ross, and he hasn't done anything to ingratiate me yet. What really bothers me about him in addition to writing that is frankly undergraduate** he has no idea what historical scholarship is about. In an issue from a couple of weeks ago he brought up some of the biography problems that have been perpetuated about Shostakovich. Having written a Shostakovich paper within this past year, I was familiar with the works he was talking about. An enthusiastically Soviet-opposed fellow by the name of Volkov portrays to the Western world a probably more subversively minded Shostakovich than was actually the case, which is old news to the musicological world.
Ross quotes the findings of musicologist Fay:
There is no signature on the first page, it turns out; that claim was something other than the truth. Instead, there is a signature on the third page, which perfectly overlaps with a bland essay that Shostakovich published in 1966. Fay subjects the entire document to Sherlockian scrutiny, noting that a couple of the recycled pages had been doctored to remove datable references.
Sherlockian scrutiny? How about every day scholarly research. Oh, if he wants he can call it Sherlockian scrutiny, but it's really what one would expect for this kind of historical research.
Then Ross starts to shine through in the way that just irks me:
To dismiss Fay’s evidence is to disregard a great artist’s right to speak in his own voice. If Shostakovich had known what was going to be printed under his name, he might have hated Volkov with a passion that not even Joseph Stalin inspired in him.
I love how he posits emotions onto Shostakovich. It's such a warm, fuzzy thing to do. Frankly, the artist can speak with his own voice nowadays, because he's dead! Even what is unarguably his words will always be reinterpreted through our interaction with it. It's naive to think that a historical figure has an unadulterated voice in the present. Oh yes, they have presence, but it's a presence in our world, here and now, not then, and we can't help but bring our here and now to the page when we read what he said.
Ross draws up a bit some of the exchange between Fay and other scholars and notes: "Perhaps the so-called “Shostakovich Wars” are ready to end, and a more evenhanded assessment can begin." Umm? Wars? Scholarship is about argument and counter-argument. That's how we learn things.
When Ross talks about Shostakovich's Fourth Symphony, I frankly don't see him being much better than Volkov:
If the première of the Fourth had gone ahead as scheduled, in the fall of 1936, the composer might have met the same fate as Abram Lezhnev. At the last minute, however, he withdrew the symphony. In its place, he produced the angrily affirmative Fifth, and bought another forty years of life. Shostakovich’s urge to defy authority was always tempered by an instinct for survival.
S's "urge to defy authority"? his "instinct for survival"? the "angrily affirmative Fifth"? These are the words of Volkov. Sure, Shostakovich wasn't devoid of these emotions, but they are highly subjective, problematic, and qualified by the vast amount of conflicting literature out there. I find it odd that Ross spends half the article bashing Volokov and then committing the same crimes.
No, I still maintain my stand. I'm not a fan of Alex Ross. And I wonder if classical music will ever fare well in journalism.
*I'm not asserting that Donatello was the first to use a perspective. Just drawing the comparison of a relatively similar time gap between the two Guillaume's in question.
**I don't mean to insult undergraduates. But I would expect better from a staff writing at the New Yorker.
August 19, 2004
stolen
Rachel has posted a great poem on her blog. I'm stealing it from there, because, well...I'll tell you later...after you read it:
a place in Phillythere's nothing like being young
and starving,
living in a roominghouse and
pretending to be a
writer
while other men are occupied
with their professions and
their possessions.
there's nothing like being
young and
starving,
listening to Brahms,
your belly sucked-in,
nary an ounce of
fat,
stretched out on the bed
in the dark,
smoking a rolled
cigarette
and working on the
last bottle of
wine,
the sheets of your
writing strewn across the
floor.
you have walked on and across
them,
your masterpieces, and
either
they'll be read in
hell,
or perhaps
gnawed at by the
curious
mice.
Brahms is the only
friend you have,
the only friend you
want,
him and the wine
bottle,
as you realize that
you will never
be a citizen of the
world,
and if you
live to be very
old
you still will never
be a citizen of the
world.
the wine and
Brahms mix well as
you watch the
lights
move across the
ceiling,
courtesy of
passing
automobiles.
soon you'll sleep
and
tomorrow there
certainly
will be
more
masterpieces.by Charles Bukowski
What I love is how the poet is projecting himself as a younger version of writer/artist so the "I" becomes "you". And you can't help wondering if you perhaps he makes this shift out of a sense of personal frustrating (i.e. "I will never be a citizen of this world) or if he does this to touch a chord in the reader (i.e. "You...that's right I'm talking to you, kid...you will never be a citizen of this world".). I kind of like both.
So why would he say this to "you, kid"? To encourage the kid to press on with his gift? he/she has special insight into the world? [see how we struggle with 19th century baggage?] or perhaps to say to the kid--"well, you want to see the world in a particular way? and you're going defy the norms of society to live a life that allows to indulge in your perspective? well, I got news for you. It's a lonely life you've chosen. You'll never belong. You can't have it both ways. And the world won't feel sorry when you're cold and starving because you're not making money, because you chose that life."
The latter, though the less romantic, is the one I prefer. It's a bit sardonic, but it touches the poignant chord of reality. Anyone who chooses a profession that is not economically viable should resonate with this chord.
When I graduated from college, the world seemed so ripe with possibilities. A couple years later, I'm still optimistic, but the weight of debt, people my age buying houses while I still live in a 300 sq ft apt, cars falling apart...heavy washes of reality. It's hard to reconcile the idealist I am, the chaser of a beautiful life, with a rack full of bills and a staggering amount of debt. And being the tortured soul that I am, I think about this, justifying my choice to myself, and chasing after grants and fellowships to fund my choice. Sometimes I wonder, should I give up? get a job writing computer manuals? Who knows. Every year I'm in, though, the deeper I go. I love not being a "citizen of the world". The world is boring. Though, secretly sometimes I feel like the person in the corner downing punch and pretzels at a party wondering if it's too early to leave yet.
But I can rest without too much angst, because in a very real sense I am not a citizen of this world and am happy to live faithfully now "in the days of my sojourning", knowing that my work isn't for me and not the place where I find fulfillment.
August 05, 2004
real life
There was this commercial on TV tonight while I was watching Simpsons advertising a local career training college. The thesis of the commercial is "if you want to earn more, you have to learn more." What a farce!!
[I actually just wrote a lot more, but decided to delete it...I'm leaving you with my gut reaction.]
June 16, 2004
linkage, homeschooling, and feminism
I've glanced at this blog a few times over the past few months found it through link on Apt. 11D. (it never ceases to amaze me...this wide world of links...)
The thing the initially struck about "this woman's work" was that she homeschools. But not for the reason that I and so many people I know were homeschooled. She does it out of feminist convictions (the ensuing discussion to this entry is also very interesting). Apparently feminist homeschooling is a whole category I had never realized existed. It makes sense, and I'm intrigued about how people phrase why they do things.
I'm not a feminist in my scholarship, wh. is the primary arena of my familiarity with it. Nor am I politically. (I don't think I'm much of anything politically...except mostly uninformed.) But from what I get from this woman's statements is that her reasons for homeschooling are 1) everybody in the family ought to be in the arena that is most suited to their happiness and personal development and 2) sex doesn't determine gender roles. I guess I would agree with both of these, though perhaps the first one a bit more qualifiedly in that happiness in a family will come from obedience and submission to the gospel. But I do know that in my own experience, I was much happier and, I'm sure, developed in my own, wh. was completely different than the classroom, when my mom started homeschooling me in 2nd grade. My 1st grade year is still a painful memory. I just needed to run around. I was quite happy to return to school in 6th grade after I had run around for awhile.
So does this make me a feminist? Probably no more than believing that capitalism is not as helpful for those of us employed in non-commerce enterprises makes me a communist. (Though I do believe there is a little communist drummer-boy beating a faint, but steady drum-beat somewhere....)
I hope this woman posts more on homeschooling. I find her perspective really interesting and completely different from the homeschooling picture I have in my head.
June 01, 2004
what's new?
I added a sort of embedded blog to my dad's website, so that he can have kind of updates/newslettery thing if he wants. I decided to go with Blogger, since it's in cohorts with Google now, hoping to make his site more "googleable". I'm very proud of myself for figuring all this out. I even pasted the "search this site" Google thing in.
Reading about Google is kind of interesting. I've been learning a tad about search engines lately, first of all in how things get listed for searchability. Then yesterday I perusing a recent Chronicle of Higher Ed. at the library, and there was an interesting article about "why some scholarly archives elude search engines." I, probably along with a majority of Americans who don't have library degrees, rely on Google as the first step to searching anything online. I guess I've always assumed that Google searches everything and that the more specific you are about search words, you will eventually find the kind of sites you are looking for. In fact, Google doesn't really search sites themselves, it actually searches other search engines, like Yahoo or AltaVista or Lycos or AOL. (Actually Yahoo and AltaVista are the same.) And they all point back to this sort of vortex of cached sites, or at least, that is the most sense I can make out of it...I'm not spending huge amounts of time coming to complex understanding of all this.
But anyway, back to Google and libraries: It is really surprising what actually isn't searchable by Google. Unless the site has gone through the complicated process of finding a place in the "big box of available websites" (as I think of it), chances are, it won't be found. So back the Chronicle article, there's a ton of information on the web that Google just doesn't find, because it hasn't found a way into the "big box". Web crawlers and what not don't always know what to do with scholarly types of information. Even if you were to Google verbatim the name of the online database, you woudn't find it, because it's not in the "big box."
This post doesn't really have a thesis, but if it did, perhaps it could be "ask your librarian", as some would have it. Or "be more creative in searching". Or "don't trust Google." Or whatever... But this post doesn't have a thesis. And I'll probably still go to Google for every day searching.
April 27, 2004
a Latin moment
We all know Psalm 23 "the Lord is my shepherd, etc..." Well, I'm sitting here perusing through the Vulgate looking up something for my paper, and I cruise on over to Psalm 22 (the numbering system is a little diff in the Vulgate). At first I thought I was in the wrong spot but then I realized I wasn't. I expected to see "Dominus meum pastorem est" or something to that effect, but what I found was "Dominus regit me". It's a perfectly legitimate translation. "Guide" and "lead" are meanings for the verb regere, though I usually associate with what a rex does rather heavy-handedly. The mental picture evoked all my life from the words of the Lord as my shepherd nurturing I His feeble sheep conjure up a slightly different image from I, humble servant submitting to my King and Ruler, though that is also a very appropriate image. In fact, it sort of makes me ponder how I read this Psalm. See, Latina est gaudium et utilis.
April 14, 2004
new look
I've given the blog a new look, wh. I like to do periodically. I think the picture and colors on this one more reflects my current state of affairs...brain hurting work with shades of gray and blue. The statue, btw, is a famous one in Aix.
April 08, 2004
my encounter with WORLDMagBlog
After hearing that it's better than the Mag, I decided to go on over and check out WORLD Mag Blog. It's a blog with postings by many of WORLD's regular writers. It's also a blogging portal for the fringes, pastors, students, or people who are in general likeminded politically and culturally with WORLD Mag. In fact, the few blogs I perused that are hosted by WORLD Mag Blog are virtually indistinguishable from the WMB.
I know I'm cynical, so I was just going to bow out and not be bothered by anything. But post on a particular blog called Blog9 caught my attention as being particularly germane to a post I made last week.
It was about the WORLD Journalism Institute and a recent runin with reporters, which has motivated them to modify their purpose statement:
The new "Why We Exist" section of the WJI website says that "Christians, joining those of many persuasions in the newsroom, can be beneficial in accurately understanding and reporting the events of the day."
What flashed out at me was the idea that "Christians...can...accurately understand...", especially the word "accurately". Just so that we're clear on what the word "accurate" means, here's a definition, brought to you by the Oxford English Dictionary: Exact, precise, correct, nice; in exact conformity to a standard or to truth. With this definition in mind, I wonder how the powers that be at WJI can actually think they can report news accurately.
We have Truth revealed to us in Scripture, and even then, we can only depend on the Holy Spirit to help us see that Truth. We have to admit that we are human, with human failings at understanding. Thus to think that we understand the Truth so well that our news reporting stands in "exact conformity" to it is a pretty lofty idea indeed. Even using the clichéed, Calvinistic "eyeglasses of Scripture", what we have is merely a perspective on the world. Notice how well the word "perspective" fits with the eyeglasses metaphor.
The WJI is all about words and how they use them. At least, that is what I hope journalism is about. In this case, I do believe they should reflect a little more carefully. "Carefully"...hmm...maybe that would make a nice substitute for "accurately."
April 02, 2004
reflections from Latin class today
Yes, another post about Latin. I've given up trying to understand every nuance, every twist of grammar in every sentence of the assigned homework. It's way too stressful. I'm enjoying my class still, just not allowing it to take over my life.
These past two weeks we've been reading Abelard and Heloise. Last week Abelard's Historia calamitatum and this week Heloise's "Letter to Abelard." I've always heard of their infamous love affair, but this was the closest I've gotten to actually reading anything about it. Reading Abelard first was really eye-opening to the situation. He was a jerk. His basic account of the event was that he had heard that Heloise was one of the most educated women (more like teenager) around and he thought so highly of himself that he was going to try to seduce her. So he goes to her uncle and gets permission to live in their house, be her tutor, and punish her if he deems her negligent in her lessons. The rest is history, as they say. He does indeed seduce her, they secretly marry, she has a son, her uncle enraged has Abelard castrated, she enters a convent, and they are separated for a while, though he does help her and some nuns later. Her response in her letter? to continue to profess undying love. While reading it, it almost seems like a cruel joke that he has seduced her so thoroughly. Everyone in my class was profoundly disgusted. Not one of us saw the tragic romance of it all that seems to follow the story of Abelard and Heloise.
We were having a discussion today about how she could have continued to love him when he as much as told her that he was primarily interested in seeing if he could get her to bed and never expressed any sentiments of true affection. Later, upon considering the context of their relationship--that Abelard was nearly 20 years than she, and that he was her teacher, and that they both valued learning very highly--, I began thinking about how intensely personal the teacher-student relationship really is. It is not unheard of for professors to marry their students. There is a body of literature and movies that reinforces this picture. The teacher gives so much, enlivens parts of the mind that were previously unknown. The eager student is susceptible to these awakenings and depends on the teacher for them. The student craves the teacher's approval, and the recipe is set for the exchange to become even more personal, to gain erotic qualities.
So the picture must have gone for Abelard and Heloise. Heloise was well-educated and very sharp. Abelard's avant-garde scholasticism must have been quite appealing, and when he left the door open for her to come closer, she must have entered willingly.
Another couple in literature that probably strikes us less sharply is Edmund and Fanny in Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. They are first cousins, her family poor, his rich. His father invites Fanny to join their family when she is still a child to give her some advantage. When she arrives she is very shy and cringes not knowing how to behave in her new circumstances. Kind-hearted Edmund takes her under his wing, instructs her in all that is good, moral, and discreet in a very Jane Austen-y kind of way. Her gives her books to read and literally shapes her complying mind. She very much depends on him. After growing up and a tumultuous time of ill-fated suitors, they find each other. Or rather, he finds her. She's been waiting for him. And they live happily ever after. I recently listened to Mansfield Park on tape, and even though the whole of the book finds conclusion in the happy union of Edmund and Fanny, I was a little weirded out by his marrying what was basically his creation, not to mention the fact that they were first-cousins, but that point didn't seem to bother people back then.
On the other hand, is there a couple who finds true love and meeting of the minds without the intensely personal sharing and giving of learning? When I reflect on Chris's and my marriage, I know this is true. Our first conversation had nothing to do with each other. We were talking about art, economics, and philosophy. We admired each other's ideas, and as we shared these very personal aspects of our lives, it naturally turned into a profoundly personal connection.
Perhaps there is always a sense of creation between two people in a couple. The "Pygmalion" syndrome? Where you give of yourself into the other so much that you help "create" the other, and that is when you fall in love with the other: when the other has part of you in it, and the other becomes your creation. And then you fall in love with your creation. Perhaps my class was a bit too harsh on Abelard.
On a completely different note, though Latin has been a rather stressful aspect of my life this semester, I'm coming back for more. I think I shall audit another Latin class. My really fab Latin prof from last sem is teaching an all Cicero class, and she is quite amenable to my being a spectator (I can't go through the stress and time of preparing translations for each day). I'm feeling excited because first, I love this prof; second, it's Cicero, and I just wouldn't feel properly educated without some exposure to Cicero, esp. when he had such an impact on Renaissance thinkers (and that is my area of specialization, if I can ever get past all this course work).
March 16, 2004
on cookbooks
I'm very circumspect when it comes to cookbooks. My view is that you need one constant standby (I highly recommend The Joy of Cooking, which will answer almost any question except those concerning mixed drinks). After that there are myriads of "special interest" cookbooks covering various cuisines, genres, diets, etc. From my perusals on the internet and in bookstores, about 80% of these are unnecessary. If you know the "basics" you don't need these books. For goodness' sake, how many different cookbooks are out there that tell you to mix basil, olive oil, sundried tomatoes, and pasta? Anybody knowing their ingredients could tell you that without the book. A book like The Joy of Cooking will help you know your ingredients. Perhaps I'm generalizing a bit, but you get my basic sentiment.
However, there are the few gems out there. The ones that challenge how you've conceived of the combinations of food for particular end results. I guess depending on your culinary experience every book inspires different things per person.
I unwittingly stumbled upon such a book last Friday. A quick glance proved it to be above the sundried tomato pasta kind of book, so in a moment of impulse, I bought it. It was on the bargain table at the Barnes & Noble at the Student Union. Upon later perusal, I surmised to my enjoy, that this was the kind of book that was going to change my life as I now know it. This book? the Cook's Encyclopedia of Soups, published by B&N. Full color photography on every page and fantastic soup recipes. The two soups I made over the weekend (Roasted Red Pepper and Brocolli Almond) were stunningly simple and remarkably tasty. The cost of this treasure? $8. I think I will get my money's worth.
February 18, 2004
student life
Erica posted on her site about an all-nite Shakespeare read at Wellesley where they read the entire works of ol' Bill outloud non-stop until they hadn't gotten all the way through. At first it sounded like a pretty good idea, but then I got to wondering, how did CNN get the story? What kind of solipicistic student group would contact CNN to show them what a cool thing they did? We used to have Shakespeare reads at Cov all the time (or at least I was invited to them all the time). No they weren't 'read the oeuvres complets in one sitting' sessions, but nevertheless they were Shakespeare reads. I'll bet a bazillion liberal arts colleges have enthusiasts gathering around the fire on a winter's evening participating in the rites of the Anglophone's Homer. But really? Report it to CNN?? And then...they reported to the Guinness Book of World Records to see if they had made a world record. Now I think that's positively narcissicistic. Why can't they just read it, for crying out loud? It would've been bad enough if their student newspaper reported it, but CNN and Guinness?? I threw a rotten pumpkin off the Bluff in the middle of a foggy night once...can CNN please post a story about that?
February 06, 2004
truth be told
The following I originally wrote in an email to a friend, so, sorry, Stina, if you're reading this and expecting somethign new.
I've been struggling lately with the proper amount of historical skepticism. Obviously, we can't know things wie es eigentlich gewesen. And in a sense, we can't really have historical truth. Yet, at the same time, I feel like I'm living a dualistic lifestyle. One 'life' says, "I believe in God the Father Almighty, etc.." and the other says "We can't have historical truth." _I_ am postmodern. I learned about modernism in school, but it's a thing of the past, and I'm finding that part of the my societal context that has influenced me is that there is an element of instinct that is postmodern (in a broad, cultural sense, not really in an academic sense of the word). So how can I as a Christian reconcile my belief that there is Truth with the appropriate amount of historical skepticism!? I suppose that's the million dollar question, and one that was proposed to us in Historiography class. I feel like everything I learned at Covenant was so easy to say but unrealistic in the everyday academic department. I don't remember half of all that jargon from the mountain. And what I do remember, I'm frustrated with. Marsden is passe. His thesis is unsatisfactory and for a generation beyond my own. I am probably one of the most skeptical people in my department YET I'm the only one that believes in eternal Truth. How can this be?
November 06, 2003
why Communism is appealing
I've been basically immersed in 1940's Soviet Russia for the past couple of weeks as I write a paper with a significant portion devoted to Shostakovich's Symphony No. 7. What is striking about the communist system is that everyone has an equal place. People are fighting the Nazis in the trenches, but the government knows that not everyone is gifted to carry a gun and shoot the enemy. So they get everyone to use whatever gifts he/she has and devote them to the war effort. This includes the composers, who are asked to write inspiring tunes to keep up the morale of the soldiers. Writers are asked to write, composers to compose, painters to paint, engineers to engineer, soldiers to fight, etc. Everybody has an equally valid place in society.
Now I realize that this ideal pales in terms of the reality of the situation, and that the content of the art that the cultural sector was asked to produce was in many instances propagandistic and not at all what they would have preferred to produce. For instance, Shostakovich was not allowed to experiment with the twelve-tone method or anything else deemed too dissonant by Stalin, literally, on pain of death. But reality is beside the point.
The point is that our society does not value the cultural sector like the communist society does (or did, I guess). Music and art are superfluous, evidenced by the fact that they are the first to be cut in any financially struggling school. The work of scholars and humanists is shoved into a corner, throwing enough pennies to let us keep our heads in dusty manuscripts. Meanwhile, the sciences are held up high as bastions and preservers of society. A $100,000 piece of equipment breaks in the chemistry department, and it is replaced the next day. While in the humanities we can't even get one of those things that projects your power point presentation from the laptop to the screen on the wall. If you say, "I am an historian," the result is glazed looks and "yes, but what do you do?" or "I wish I got spring break."
This is true in our little Christian circles, too. Being a scholar is not as equally valued as being a missionary or in the nebuluous "in ministry." God has given us different gifts. You'd think of all societies, the Christian one would be the most welcoming of the multifarious gifts bestowed on humans. On one hand, I don't really care what other people think of my profession. I enjoy it and strive to do it to the best of my ability. I mean, there's not much I can do about the fact that probably at least half the people at my university don't even know the discipline of musicology exists. What I worry about is just the overall cultural mindset the devalues the cultural and scholarly sectors of life. But, there's not much I can do there either. So I guess I'll go back to my paper...
May 27, 2003
art as power
The New Orleans art museum has a special exhibition contrasting the lives of Jefferson and Napolean...the dealers of the Louisiana Purchase. The Christian Science Monitor has a great article that is fashioned as a report, but also raises important historical questions, such as the use of art by Jefferson and Napolean to portray a certain image of themselves as ruler.