blahg blahg blahg

Final Paper

2006-04-30T12:27:00.000-07:00

“Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,
that would not let me sleep: methought I lay
worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,
and praised be rashness for it, let us know,
our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
when our deep plots do pall: and that should teach us
there’s a divinity that shapes our ends,
rough-hew them how we will,--

Thus Hamlet makes his transformation from the morbid, indecisive intellectual obsessed with the physical grotesqueness of death, into the transcendent prince. Throughout most of the play, Hamlet struggles with his dilemma, entirely uncertain of everything. In fact, if it were not for his uncertainty, then Hamlet would make for a very short play; Hamlet would probably have gone right out and killed Claudius and been done with it. The transformation of the character, of course, is the nature of Shakespeare’s drama, and the reason why he is venerated to this day.
This paper, however, is not entirely about the transformation of Hamlet. The reason I bring it up is that, for me, Hamlet’s life-changing recognition is of deep personal interest, and echoes in my own life experience. And that is the focus of this paper; in reading or watching Shakespeare, every individual must have some moment of perfect recognition at some point, based on the plot or the actions of the characters. That is why Shakespeare is Shakespeare, because he shows us all of human nature, and his work can resonate in each of us. But first, let me explain my own illuminating passage.
A few lines after the opening to this paper, Hamlet says to Horatio,
“Not a whit, we defy augury: there’s a special
providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,
‘tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be
now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the
readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he
leaves, what is’t to leave betimes?

It is that very moment that Hamlet has completely made the realization that, regardless of what action he takes, he can only lose in the end, so he overcomes his doubts and worries about everything, and chooses to do what he must do. He abandons his fixation with death, and focuses his attention on the task before him. This speech from Hamlet made me recall something Albert Camus wrote, which seems almost like a paraphrasing:
“The will is nothing. Acceptance, everything. On one condition: that, faced with the humblest or the most heart-rending experience, man should always be ‘present’; and that he should endure this experience without flinching, with complete lucidity.”

I compare Albert Camus to Hamlet because both of them said things I found profoundly interesting. The transformation of Hamlet is, for me, the most insightful occurrence in Shakespeare’s works, because that character’s transformation is in many ways a mirror of my self. Though it took me a while to recognize the weight and substance of Hamlet’s character, it led me to finally realize the truth about Shakespeare.
Whenever I had to study Shakespeare in an English class, I was disinterested more often than not. Of course, I thought some of his plays were entertaining, but what really dragged me down was the analyzing of all the different meanings. It seemed as though Shakespeare was a whole lot of highfalutin intellectual garbage, and, frankly, it bored me. It got to the point where I flat out said I did not like Shakespeare. I clung to this attitude more or less until I finally recognized Hamlet’s transformation (I had read the play three or four times without ever seeing it). I suddenly saw Shakespeare in a new light. I really liked Hamlet! And then I realized why my teachers always tried to teach me all those little quirks and details in the plays, and I realized why so many people loved Shakespeare for reasons I could not understand: Shakespeare has something for everyone.
Even though I was not interested in much of the character interactions and transformations in other plays, discovering my interest in Hamlet made me realize that throughout Shakespeare’s catalogue were hundreds of insights and recognitions, which were of profound interest to other people. Someone preoccupied with the difficulties of love and loss would be deeply moved by the play Romeo and Juliet. Somebody upset about the irreverence and disrespect of his children would find particular value in the character of King Lear. Whether it be Love, or Loss, or Death, or Sorrow, or Joy, there is something to be said about every aspect of human nature, which is why Shakespeare is the greatest of them all.

My poor play

2006-04-03T18:16:00.000-07:00

Why is Titus Andronicus so reviled?

All these scholars keep saying that Titus Andronicus is awful. They say that it almost couldn't be written by Shakespeare because it's so bad. Just the other day, Dr. Morgan said that Titus Andronicus was Shakespeare's worst play.

I liked Titus Andronicus.

It was highly entertaining. And, furthermore, I thought the human interactions in the play, regardless of how vile, were entirely feasible in real life. The interaction between the characters was, at times, sublime, and some of the plot turns were remarkably complex.

There, I said it. I liked it. Take that, all you Shakespeare snobs out there.

I think this is true

2006-04-03T18:03:00.000-07:00

She's the Man

2006-04-03T17:33:00.000-07:00

Okay, check this one out:

Everybody has a secret... Duke wants Olivia who likes Sebastian who is really Viola whose brother is dating Monique so she hates Olivia who's with Duke to make Sebastian jealous who is really Viola who's crushing on Duke who thinks she's a guy...

This is a short tagline for the recent movie, She's the Man.

Need I say more?

What a ripoff.

Titus Andronicus in Gladiator

2006-04-03T17:18:00.000-07:00

When I started reading Titus Andronicus, I was struck by how similar it was to the film Gladiator. The farther along I read, the less similar they seemed, but at the beginning there was a lot.
Here's what I saw when I began, with the main points higlighted:
A Roman general is victorious in war against the Goths. This general is in every way loyal to Rome. As he returns to Rome, however, the Emperor dies, leaving a brat of a son as a potential emperor. The general is offered the position, but does not want the post, regardless of the prestige. Even with his ultimate sacrifice and loyalty to Rome, the general is betrayed and persecuted by the ungrateful aristocracy in his homeland. Thus, the true barbaric nature of Rome is revealed.

This introduction to Titus Andronicus is soo similar to the plot of Gladiator. But, as I read on, the two became more and more different. In Gladiator, the general Maximus (played by Russel Crowe) turns out to be a much more honorable man than Titus. Furthermore, the story of Gladiator goes in an entirely different direction after the initial betrayal bythe new emperor. Still, I get the feeling that the movie may have been partially inspired by this play.

This one may be a stretch...

2006-04-03T17:07:00.000-07:00

But it's something, right?

One day in class, when we were finding links between modern culture and Shakespeare, the term "the usual suspects" came up. Where did this term come from? Someone suggested the film, The Usual Suspects. Actually, the name of that movie comes from Casablanca, a movie with Shakespearean elements, when an investigator says, "round up the usual suspects."

Well, having seen The Usual Suspects, there was one thing that could possibly be related to Shakespeare. Probably 99% of people who read this will say, "No way," but, like I said, this is a stretch.

The main guy in The Usual Suspects was a man named Verbal Kint. Verbal is a very clever man, and throughout the movie, he manages to outwit several police investigators as well as several career criminals, just by talking. Well, Kint sounds a lot like Kent. In King Lear, the character Kent is also a very skilled speaker, and makes a complete fool out of Oswald with his words. So Kint is based off of Kent! Right?! Verbal Kent!!
Uhhh...yeah.
I said it was a stretch.

Topic of the Semester:

2006-04-03T16:57:00.001-07:00

Shakespeare's lasting influence.

Not really coming up with anything creative to write about, so
why not explore Shakespeare's lasting influence in modern film?

To begin...

In class, we discovered the main difference between tragedy and comedy; at the climax of the play, when all the major characters are together, either everyone dies, or everyone lives (in general). If everyone lives, then it's a comedy!

The movie Friday is all about a guy's weekend in the 'hood. Basically, a whole lot of tension builds between the main character, Craig (Ice Cube), and some other guys in the 'hood who don't like him. In the very last scene, EVERYBODY is out on Craig's lawn in the middle of the night, and Craig's enemies attempt a drive by shooting. Miraculously, nobody gets killed; all's well that ends well. There is even a "fool" character, a local thief, who makes his exit by stealing the bully's bike and saying "I'm a steela not a keela!" A surprisingly Shakespearean movie!

2006-03-09T19:00:00.000-08:00

Travel: Get Thee to a Play

Newsweek
March 13, 2006 issue - All the world may be a stage, but many of this year's best productions will be mounted in Stratford on Avon this spring. England's Royal Shakespeare Company is launching The "Complete Works" festival in the Bard's hometown. Starting April 23 (Will's birthday), the yearlong festival will feature all 37 of Shakespeare's plays and all his poems.

The RSC's many theaters, as well as the surrounding streets, will be filled with all things Shakespeare, including a free outdoor film festival and the sonnets set to music by artists like Natalie Merchant. The RSC is staging 23 of the productions itself, while companies from such places as India, Japan and South Africa will contribute 30 more, including an American "Hamlet" featuring tiny ninja figures (Ophelia drowns in a glass of water). Our picks: "The Tempest," starring Patrick Stewart; Ian McKellen in "King Lear"; "The Baghdad Richard" featuring an Arabic cast, and a musical version of "The Merry Wives of Windsor" starring Judi Dench.

Buy tickets to the festival at rsc completeworks .co.uk. Prices range from $9 for standing room to $95, with discounts for students and families. Tip: RSC members get priority booking, so consider joining for about $62 (www.rsc.org.uk).
Stratford on Avon is about 100 miles north of London, but don't try a day trip, since you'll still be in the theater when the last train leaves ("www.centraltrains.co.uk). Check into the Shakespeare Hotel, which dates back to 1637 (from $240; macdonaldhotels .co.uk) or really splurge at the Menzies Welcombe Hotel (www.menzies-hotels.co.uk). But, as King Lear said, "Nothing comes from nothing," so start planning now.

Never thought of that before

2006-02-04T20:46:00.000-08:00

Our recent guest teachers made me realize how important it is to actually see Shakespeare performed. The Shakespeare experience is so limited on paper. When I see people doing (or interpreting) his plays I become so much more involved. I think I will try to rent a movie this weekend, to see what I've been missing!

English 432 ejournal Starts Here

2006-01-13T14:55:00.000-08:00

Hooray for Shakespeare.

Final Paper

2005-12-07T15:38:00.000-08:00

For a (short) sample of the song, click here, then click on the "Play Sample" icon next to #36, If I Was Santa Claus. (ok it's either #36 or #66 they keep changing it on me)

For complete lyrics, click here.

When I signed up for this class, I did not really know what to expect. I was not sure what aspects of Biblical and Classical traditions would be emphasized, and I did not even slightly know what they had to do with each other. When the semester began, I learned how different they really were. The moral, altruistic world of the Bible was altogether the opposite of the individualist, amoral, Pagan world of Classical mythology.
And yet, this was still only my preliminary impression. As time passed, and we delved deeper into both sides, it became more and more clear to me that the two traditions were not so different after all. Even though the classical world is mostly hedonistic and indifferent, it is not without principles; classical heroes are often bound by feelings of love and loyalty, which can be construed as Biblical. And then there is the book of Ecclesiastes, which seems out of place in the context of the rest of the Bible. It is concerned with the impermanence of life, and the necessity of an ephemeral happiness, not the eternal consequences in the afterlife.
Yes, there was more lurking under the surface of these two seemingly opposite world views. When I first glimpsed their most obvious characteristics, it was like looking at two great nations, completely separated in ideology, and constantly at war with one another. But each tradition was ultimately more complex than it first appeared. Both have a fair share of stories to represent their values, but neither has a “summary.” There is no narrator, no guide, to say “This is what we mean.” Although there are several stories that seem to have clear messages in them, I was ultimately left to my own interpretation after reading them.
As we probed further and further into stories and myths, it slowly dawned on me that, rather than two separate monoliths of belief, the two traditions were like twins separated at birth and raised in completely different circumstances. But, for all their cultural and environmental differences, they are still conjoined by that ancient primordial bond: the human condition. Even though the two traditions largely represent different ideals, they inevitably have their share of similarities, and the reason they are similar is that they both come out of human experience. Nobody can devote one’s self strictly to one tradition or the other, because both have a ring of truth that echoes in real life.
The foremost example of this comes to mind: the stories of Job and Prometheus. In these stories, we witness a primary difference between Classical and Biblical thought. When God finally confronts Job, Job bows to the grandeur of that awesome power, knowing himself to be insignificant in comparison. However, when Zeus accosts Prometheus, Prometheus raises his lip in defiance, and is thus chained to a rock for all eternity, but nevertheless remains defiant. The stories have entirely different outcomes, but their origins are the same; both Job and Prometheus question the divine will, and that is why we all have a little of Job and Prometheus inside us. Furthermore, we all have a tendency to either submit or revolt to the powers that be, whether by fear of the consequences and acceptance of inferiority, or in the name of justice and the spirit of revolution. Both stories grew out of the same human ambivalence, and one story could not exist without the other.
What really got me thinking about this was one day when I was listening to a Hip-Hop song, of all things. It is called If I Was Santa Claus, by a group called Atmosphere. These are the (partial) lyrics, which mainly support my point:

If I was a rich man,
I’d buy you some shoes,
Tall boots, for all the dirt you walk through.
And what would that do?
Enable you to deal?
Without schooling you on how to touch what’s real?

And if I was a smart man,
I’d tell you everything that I knew,
And give it to you every time you need a talking to.
And what would that do?
Teach you my guidelines?
So you could be a cheerleader at your game on the sidelines?

And if I was a driver,
I’d keep my headlights on,
To see the difference between right and wrong.
I’d wear my seatbelt, even when I’m in park,
Cause I don’t trust the other fools
Who cruise through these parts.

And if I was a better cook,
I’d hook up a feast.
Set a table full of food for the children to eat.
I’d encourage the nourishment,
So we can breathe with the knowledge
That we got something accomplished

And if I was Santa Claus,
I’d fight for the cause,
Wouldn’t expect nothing in return.
I’d give you everything you want,
I’d be everything you need,
You could take my hand,
And I could take the lead.
….
And if I was you,
I wouldn’t hear a word I said.
Wouldn’t trust nothing to start it up inside my head.
I’d make a conscious effort to live,
Instead of trying to kill the monsters
That reside underneath the bed.
….
And if I was a wise man,
I’d climb to the top of the mountain peak
To think about strength versus weakness.
I’d find a point that rests a couple of feet above your head,
And figure out how I could try to help you reach it.

And if I did have a choice,
I’d never want to live forever.
Just let me have a voice so I can make my points.
I can’t imagine running a race
With no finish line.
Just let me keep my pace and make the most of my time.

I love giving,
But I’m bad at receiving.
The truth is I prefer to be the one bleeding.
But I’m a paranoid
That stays between play and work,
Cautious and aware, cause I’m afraid of being hurt.

Which brings me to the issue,
And that would be this:
How often must I ask myself why I exist?
I feel like a freak,
This world is a circus,
Just trying to find myself,
As well as my purpose.

And if I was Santa Claus,
I’d fight for the cause,
Wouldn’t expect nothing in return.
I’d give you everything you want,
I’d be everything you need,
You could take my hand,
And I could take the lead.

This song eloquently sums up the ambivalence we feel in our lives between Classical and Biblical wisdom. The speaker, who’s name is Slug, is constantly switching between the two life views. As “Santa Claus,” he would live for others, fighting for the cause without expecting anything in return. He would feed the children of the world, and prefers self-sacrifice to rewards. His main goal would be to help others. On the other hand, he has a Classical streak in him which recognizes that people need to be individuals who serve their own needs. After all, if we rely entirely on the help and wisdom of others, then we have nothing to call our own, and we are effectively not living our own life. Furthermore, he has a sense of the indifference of the world, and an inherent mistrust of others. And finally, the last part of the song (If I did have a choice, I’d never want to live forever…how often must I ask myself why I exist) could come from both traditions. He is accurately depicting the Classical notion that we have but one life to live, but at the same time his existential angst could have come directly out of Ecclesiastes. But the most interesting line is this: If I was you/I wouldn’t hear a word I said/Wouldn’t trust nothing to start it up inside my head/I’d make a conscious effort to live/Instead of trying to kill the monsters/That reside underneath the bed. Essentially Slug is advising a third, invisible wisdom, which is to reject conventional wisdom and all its “monsters” and to simply live life according to one’s own standards. Even though we arguably live life in the image of our Classical and Biblical traditions, there is something to be said for individual perspective, which has nothing to do with broad social and cultural standards. After all, someone could live his or her life entirely in the image of Jesus or Odysseus or Iphigenia, and never even realize it.

Speaking of New Yorker cartoons

2005-11-22T16:18:00.000-08:00

By George Booth (click image to get a bigger view)

Reflections

2005-11-18T17:56:00.001-08:00

It's amazing to me that in literature people always seem to know what they're talking about and say what they mean.

In today's world, communication comes so quickly that we hardly have time to process what is being said before coming up with a response. Maybe it's just me, but whenever I'm having a conversation with somebody, it seems my mind is divided into two parts: one part is for absorbing and dissecting what is said to me, and the other part is an immediate response mechanism. What's frustrating is that the two almost never work in conjunction with one another, and I rarely say what I mean. In other words, what I'm saying is in no way a reflection of my true thoughts and personality. The worst part is that I spit out randomly generated responses that are usually 'acceptable,' even when my personal philosophy goes against the grain of what I'm saying. By the time I've worked out the true meaning of what someone has said to me, and my real reaction to that meaning, I've already said something stupid and it's too late to correct.

Real life example: a classmate compliments my tiger pencil, which is both stylish and green, and expresses her desire for a similar pencil. So I give her my tiger pencil. She says: "maybe we can make this a sacred object of the class" (a Sexson project). I automatically respond: "Yeah we could pass it around."

My generated response was in automatic agreement, while my more primitive cognitive functions were still grinding out a real answer. No! No! we should not share the pencil with the class! Though an object can be sacred to a group in group functions, a private gift from one person to another will only lose its sacredness if it is shared amongst the masses! Don't share the pencil! It is for you alone! This is an example of an automatic response gone dreadfully wrong.

Does anyone else have this problem? Am I just too slow for the pace of normal human interaction?

11/28

Glad we straightened this out Valerie.

12/05

Holy crap somebody commented on this post who wasn't in our class and wasn't selling insurance. Maybe I could sell this to the Chronicle. Take a look at "1 comments."vvv

Some Responses...

2005-11-18T14:48:00.000-08:00

I have read some interesting posts recently...here's what I think...

Sunny Rae - I realize...

I also do not find a great deal of inspiration in the Bible. Many of the stories have practical wisdom in them, but like a lot of practical wisdom these days, my reaction is often "duh. I know." Furthermore, the "divine intervention" explanation of things is antiquated. Though divine explanations were helpful to our ancestors, we know better about a lot of things now. The Bible is not misleading, it just needs a 21st century update to account for all the things we understand better. Concepts such as evolution and cosmic origins do not contradict the existence of God, and maybe some modern additions, if not revisions, to scripture would be beneficial to modern audiences.

Mick - Ishmaelites...

Structured, hierarchical, organized religions like Christianity are indeed a problem in our world. Whenever a religion can be used to justify the oppression of one class by another, it is a corrupt religion. Christianity is a classic historical example of this. Ever since the rise of church power, waay back in the day, Christians in general seem to have grown more and more distant from their roots. It is surprising to hear Fundamentalist Christians in America preaching their moral agenda and using the Bible and the words of Jesus as evidence, when those documents really have nothing to do with their cause. As for other Christians I know, they're either in it for Christmas presents or they're just not particularly religious.

I am also alarmed by the direction this world is heading, Mick. Although I think it will be a while before the system fails, I can definitely see the rips in the seams. We are slowly moving towards a global economic, environmental, social, political, and religious crisis of "Biblical" proportions. I am not positive in thinking that the situation will improve in time. Humans are notoriously difficult to change, and once we are set in our habits, we tend to stay there. While some of me hopes that we will recognize the signs, I am more inclined to believe that a massive, seething problem is developing bit by bit, which we are shielded from by institutions like popular religion. As long as people keep making babies and maintaining their habits, as is their wont, the population will continue to increase exponentially, our natural resources will dwindle, and the discrepancy between rich and poor will increase. But there is still hope. Even though the Christian system is no longer effective, some of the most fundamental beliefs and truths of that religion are indestructible. If enlightened individuals, regardless of religious affiliation, continue to resist the state of things, we may yet have the foresight not to fall in our own trap. Maybe we can recognize the signs before it's too late.

And if not, doesn't the Bible tell of an Apocalypse? Though the world as we know it may end, I don't believe it can end completely. Humanity shall endure, and we can only hope to learn from our mistakes and begin again.

Jillian - Frye Lightbulb #3

Jillian, all I want to know is, how do you know if you truly love someone? When teenagers say "I love you," don't you think that there's a little part in them that really believes it, or at least wants to? What is "true love?" An acceptance of commitment? If only love were as permanent as the relationships created in its name...

Words of Power

2005-11-15T13:47:00.000-08:00

"Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!"

This is probably the coolest thing ever said. The greatest power of words is to fill us with dread. Here are some other great phrases:

"From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth, until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside." - Gandalf, Lord of the Rings

"It's the end of the road, Galvatron." - Rodimus Prime, Transformers the Movie

"And you will know my name is the LORD, when I lay my vengeance upon thee!" -Sam Jackson, Pulp Fiction

"Because I am the MOM, that's why!" - Sunny Rae

I need some more of these. Anyone know any powerful words?

Ok let's clear something up

2005-11-10T00:19:00.000-08:00

pes·si·mism n.
1. A tendency to stress the negative or unfavorable or to take the gloomiest possible view.
2. The doctrine or belief that this is the worst of all possible worlds and that all things ultimately tend toward evil.
3. The doctrine or belief that the evil in the world outweighs the good.

Why Ecclesiastes is not pessimistic:

Is it pessimistic to deny that existence has meaning? If so, then why?? Why is it pessimistic to view death as an end, and not a gateway to another life?

After all, what is so damned optimistic about the rest of the Bible? Humanity in general is cast in a rather dim light throughout, and we're always getting plagued for this and banished for that and obliterated for something else. If we're all a bunch of sinners and assholes, even with the hope for heaven (or threat of hell), there is not much optimism for what we do on earth. It seems all we can do is pray and be righteous (acceptable) and hope to God that we're not struck down while watching the dirty shows on late night TV.

So it's all been done. So nothing's original. So we won't be remembered after we're dead. Does this really surprise anybody? This is the first part of the Bible where things start to get objective and make sense for me. If you ask me, real pessimism is in feeling gloomy about death and our fleeting existence, not in accepting them for what they are. Im' really in Camus mode right now so I might as well quote him:

"If there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life."

So much of Christianity is focused on life after death. In fact, Christianity is a faith of renunciation, in that it renounces this life for another. That, to me, is real pessimism, the belief that this world is evil and wrong and we are trying to escape from it. Well it is evil and wrong a lot of the time, but that is no excuse to renounce the potential of humanity or the gift of being in the world. Optimism is in accepting existence for what it obviously is (temporary and meaningless) and doing what we can with what we have.

Okay now that I've gone and read Ecclesiastes over again, I concede it's a little pessimistic, but only because the writer is so pessimistic about everything. The ideas are not pessimistic, but he goes on a little too much about how bad things are in the world and how insignificant we are. If you read through all the moping there's some truth in it.

If it's all so futile, then why bother coming to class?

2005-11-09T23:30:00.000-08:00

If you haven't read The Stranger, by Albert Camus, go get it from the library or bookstore or someplace. Read it! I've read it six times. Dr. Sexson has his top 100 book list and I have my top 1 book list. The Stranger, by Albert Camus.

SPOILER ALERT: below is a very significant passage in the novel

Meursalt is visited by a chaplain in his jail cell while he awaits execution:

"He seemed so certain about everything, didn't he? And yet none of his certainties was worth one hair of a woman's head. He wasn't even sure he was alive, because he was living like a dead man. Whereas it looked as if I was the one who'd come up emptyhanded. But I was sure about me, about everything, surer than he could ever be, sure of my life and sure of the death I had waiting for me. Yes, that was all I had. But at least I had as much of a hold on it as it had on me. I had been right, I was still right, I was always right. I had lived my life one way and I could just as well have lived it another. I had done this and I hadn't done that. And so? It was as if I had waited all this time for this moment and for the first light of this dawn to be vindicated. Nothing, nothing mattered, and I knew why. So did he. Throughout the whole absurd life I'd lived, a dark wind had been rising toward me from somewhere deep in my future, across years that were still to come, and as it passed, this wind leveled whatever was offered to me at the time, in years no more real than the ones I was living. What did other people's deaths or a mother's love matter to me; what did his God or the lives people choose or the fate they think they elect matter to me when we're all elected by the same fate, me and billions of privileged people like him who also called themselves my brothers? Couldn't he see, couldn't he see that? Everybody was privileged. "

Doctrine of Retributive Justice

2005-11-07T14:33:00.000-08:00

Black Sabbath
War Pigs-

Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction
Sorcerers of death's construction
In the fields the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
Poisoning their brainwashed minds
Oh lord yeah!

Politicians hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out to fight?
They leave that role to the poor
Time will tell on their power minds
Making war just for fun
Treating people just like pawns in chess
Wait 'til the judgement day comes
Yeah!

Now in darkness world stops turning
Ashes where the bodies burning
No more war pigs have the power
Hand of God has struck the hour
Day of judgement, God is calling
On their knees the war pig's crawling
Begging mercy for their sins
Satan laughing spreads his wings
All right now!

2005-10-31T12:11:00.000-08:00

Time to understand the HORROR!
Time to understand the MONSTER!

From what grave did I come?
From what evil mixture was I compounded?

NO ONE is SAFE!

Happy Halloween

THIS entry has NOTHING to do with CLASS

2005-10-28T23:17:00.000-07:00

But I wrote it anway.

Whenever I'm buying beer at a convenience store, the clerk asks for my i.d. I like to hesitate and say, "Uhhhh....I forgot it." Then they look sort of uncomfortable and say they can't sell me beer. At that point, I say "just kidding here it is" and give them my drivers license. Pointless, yes, but I like to make their job exciting.

What a trickster.

Sigh

2005-10-26T22:36:00.000-07:00

Well, last night i wrote a very long and thoughtful entry in my ejournal.
Of course, my internet malfunctioned and the whole thing was lost.
Anyone else experience this?

Anyway it involved Sartre's quote: "Hell is other people"
Does this surprise anyone?
Makes perfect sense to me. Hell is here, on earth. We made it.

2005-10-17T22:46:00.000-07:00

2005-10-17T22:45:00.000-07:00

2005-10-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

2005-10-17T22:30:00.000-07:00

good times, good times

Heaven

2005-10-16T23:41:00.000-07:00

In class, we've been noting some similarities and differences between Biblical and Classical traditions.

One difference is that the Biblical tradition is largely concerned with morals, whereas the Classical tradition is not.

One thing I'm curious about is the origin of heaven and hell. In Classical tradition, existence after death is a sort of un-life, without sensation. However, in Christianity, our experience after life is determined by our earthly actions. We could soar up to heaven or plummet down to hell; we get our comeuppance.

Admittedly, I'm not much of a Bible scholar. What I want to know is, did this notion get started in the Bible? It doesn't seem like anything from the Old Testament, so where does it come from? And why?? Do heaven and hell exist to motivate us to lead moral lives? What motivates us more, the promise of heaven or the threat of hell? Or maybe they exist to give consolation to those frustrated by injustice in the world...wicked people may thrive and prosper here on earth, but eventually they'll suffer. Maybe heaven and hell were the tools of early church leaders to scare people into believing, and to excercise power over believers.

And another thing...God is good and Satan is evil...When we die, we are judged by our actions, and we go either to Heaven, the realm of God, or Hell, the realm of Satan. Supposedly (and like I said, I'm no Christian scholar), God rewards us in heaven for being good, and Satan tortures us in hell for being bad. What doesn't make sense to me is, if Satan is evil then why does he punish us for being bad? Shouldn't Satan reward people for being evil? If I've learned anything from George Bush, it's that when you're down in the polls, you shouldn't turn on your base .

Maybe God and Satan are really in on it together, and the whole good vs. evil thing is just an act.

Hell

2005-10-15T22:35:00.000-07:00

In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all day
But tomorrow there’ll be hell to pay
People listen attentively
I mean about future calamity
I used to think the idea was obsolete
Until I heard the old man stamping his feet.
This is a place where eternally
Fire is applied to the body
Teeth are extruded and bones are ground
Then baked into cakes which are passed around!
Beauty, talent, fame, money, refinement
Top skill and brain
But all the things you try to hide
Will be revealed on the other side!
Now the d and the a and the m
And the n and the a
And the t and the i-o-n
Lose your face, lose your name
Then get fitted for a suit of flame!

-Squirrel Nut Zippers, Hell

What's in a name?

2005-10-12T12:00:00.000-07:00

Dr. Sexson says we should conversate amongst our ejournals. So here goes...this is in response to Valerie's fascinating and brilliant entry about the meanings of names.

Spencer- From a surname which meant "dispenser of provisions" in Old French.
Theodore- From the Greek name Θεοδωρος (Theodoros), which meant "gift of god"
Ward- From a surname meaning "guard" in Old English.

Valerie Anne Dowbenko is a nice name, and it has some powerful meanings. I can't make much sense out of what my name means. I guess it could be cool, in an abstract way. It takes some imagination to put them together into anything meaningful. I really like what my middle name means (gift of god!), and my last name sounds good too (guard). My first name leaves something to be desired.

What Valerie is saying makes sense: our names represent who we are, a combination of the old and the new, given names and familial ones. We inherit a name, which belongs to our ancestors and their deeds, but we also have a name which is uniquely ours. Therefore, we have attained the means to accept or refute the legacy of our ancestors, and are not bound absolutely to them.

I deny that I am doomed to become my parents. Personality development may begin with the family, but who we ultimately become is determined by our experience in the outside world. Not a day goes by that I don't find ten differences for every similarity between me and my parents. Furthermore, I am not bound to any accomplishment or failing associated with my family. In fact, as a unique individual, with my own life to live, what right do I have to be even remotely associated with those strangers' actions? I cannot accept credit for the actions of others. I am a separate entity, doomed to my own fate.

Valerie says that in the powerful words of her name, she gains the freedom to deny accountability for the deeds of some ancestor. In my opinion, she is not accountable in the first place, and so what freedom is she gaining? A name associates us with our ancestors, but that is the limit of its power over us. There is no need to seek freedom, because, by virtue of our inviolate rights and existence as individuals, we are already unalterably free from their actions.

God's Will Be Done part 2

2005-10-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

The Bible was written over a thousand years; pieces of it came out of different cultures and ages. The entirety of the Bible cannot be viewed as a book with a message, but as a collection of stories from many different sources.

But why shouldn't we look for a 'moral' in the Bible's stories? After a lot of thought I came to this conclusion: in the writing of anything, it is impossible not to convey some sort of message. After all, words are the way we express ideas. Despite the author's intentions, something is transmitted from writer to reader, whether it be a clear moral point or abstract image. Writing without message either does not exist or has very little substance, the basest form of the descriptive...See Spot...See Spot Run.

I find one story of the Old Testament very interesting: the sacrifice of Abraham's son. It seems to me that if there is a simple meaning of the story it would be that the will of God is more important than the will of man. Both Abraham and society must accept God's will. But what is society's reaction to Abraham's attempted murder? God speaks only to Abraham, so the rest of the world is oblivious to this divine mandate.

Kierkegaard says that a person whose sense of doing God's will is what gives his life meaning will be understood ONLY to the extent that his actions conform to universal ethics. But what if the action contradicts what ethics demands, as in the case of Abraham's sacrifice? What should someone in Abraham's position do?

This story represents a powerful force in the Christian faith: the belief in the importance of carrying out the will of the almighty. However, another strong aspect of Christianity is a respect for universal rules and standards for people. Do these things ever contradict each other in real life, as they did for Abraham?

This is part of a book review for Jon Krakauer's book Under the Banner of Heaven, in which a pair of men commit murders because they heard the voice of God:

In 1984, Ron and Dan Lafferty murdered the wife and infant daughter of their younger brother Allen. The crimes were noteworthy not merely for their brutality but for the brothers' claim that they were acting on direct orders from God. In Under the Banner of Heaven, Jon Krakauer tells the story of the killers and their crime but also explores the shadowy world of Mormon fundamentalism from which the two emerged. The Mormon Church was founded, in part, on the idea that true believers could speak directly with God. But while the mainstream church attempted to be more palatable to the general public by rejecting the controversial tenet of polygamy, fundamentalist splinter groups saw this as apostasy and took to the hills to live what they believed to be a righteous life. When their beliefs are challenged or their patriarchal, cult-like order defied, these still-active groups, according to Krakauer, are capable of fighting back with tremendous violence.

This is an excellent book, and ties directly into the story of Abraham's sacrifice. Here is an excerpt in which the author is addressing the conflict of religious belief and public approval:

“…if Ron Lafferty were deemed mentally ill because he obeyed the voice of his God, isn’t everyone who believes in God and seeks guidance through prayer mentally ill as well? In a democratic republic that aspires to protect religious freedom, who should have the right to declare that one person’s irrational beliefs are legitimate and commendable, while another person’s are crazy? How can a society actively promote religious faith on one hand and condemn a man for zealously adhering to his faith on the other?” (p. 294)

The story of Abraham can be described as 'just a story', but it carries deep meaning to many people who believe in divine intervention in mortal affairs. It seems sometimes as though it were possible to read the Bible in two ways: as a detached observer, analyzing a historical and cultural archive, or as a devout believer, absorbing a very literal and very demanding guide to life.

God's Will Be Done!

2005-10-01T13:49:00.000-07:00

Last class, we came to the conclusion that in giving a moral to a story or parable, we are in fact merely reducing the story to 'the point', which is in fact missing the point. The point is, the story is the lesson, and the lesson is the story. Explanations, morals, and analyses are just doctrine. The main thing to take away from the story is the story itself, not the 'message.'

Jennifer (I think it was Jennifer...) had something interesting to say about this: If the purpose of reading is not to discern a moral, then what is the purpose? Do we read simply for information and entertainment?

What a question. There are so many styles of writing in the world, and every style has its own objective. We read scientific publications and texts for pure, unadulterated information. For entertainment purposes, we read magazines or popular novels or literature. But underlying all forms of writing there is one question: is the author making an attempt to convey a specific message?

It is this question of the author that really divides all works of literature. In the case of Robert Frost, his poetry did not convey a specific message, and could not be summed up in "bullet point" form. His poetry conveyed the beauty of words and imagination. There is no doubt that Robert Frost was not pursuing an agenda. However, not everyone writes like Robert Frost. In the case of propaganda literature, it is obvious that the author is conveying a specific message to his or her readers.

I think that, depending on the motives of the author, any piece of poetry or prose can either divulge a moral or completely avoid one. So where does the Bible fit in? I think that, based on the fact that we can find a moral so easily in so many stories, it is logical to assume that whoever was writing had some sort of message to convey through words, and was not writing simply for the sake of entertainment, information, or art.

Of course, the Bible had many authors, so some stories can be read which are without a clear moral message. On the whole, though, it seems that the authors of the Bible were trying to define morals and ethics through their stories, so it is possible to apply "morals" to some stories without taking away from the stories themselves.

2005-09-24T00:10:00.000-07:00

Literally Shmiterally

2005-09-19T15:58:00.000-07:00

Well, today I spoke about a show I watched on the Discovery Channel, called "Biblical Science" or something like that. The presentation was on whether or not Noah's flood could ever have happened. On hand to debate the Biblical myth were a host of scientists and ark-seekers. Ultimately, the show came to the conclusion that there's not enough water in the world to "cover all the land in water," and for that much rain to occur would be physically preposterous. Furthermore, said the narrator, all claims of finding the ark were likely false.

Dr. Sexson immediately smote the Discovery Channel with His wrath. "Those scientists are wasting their time!" He roared, in words which came hurtling down on our trembling mortal heads like lightning bolts of denunciation. It's not literal! It's a story! I almost sacrificed a goat right then and there.

Upon returning to my hovel, I pondered today's lesson. Why would the hapless television producers make an effort to point out the literal impossibilities of the Bible? Indeed, to take the Bible literally is a waste of time, as the true messages come in the form of metaphor. But maybe, just maybe, I thought there could be a good reason for it.

There are a lot of people out there who naysay the Bible, for the reason that they have taken it literally. It would do these naysayers good to read the Bible metaphorically. And yet, on the other side of the coin, there are a lot of Biblical fanatics, who ALSO take the Bible literally! Wait a minute...even the believers are reading the Bible wrong!

Since this is the case, then maybe the television show I watched was not a wasted effort. It would be worthwhile for many a good Christian to reflect on the metaphorical value of the Bible rather than the literal meaning. I've been listening to fundamentalist Christians say dinosaurs still exist because of the description given of the garden of Eden. Even my program, as it was winding up, said something about not missing the forest for the trees. Scientifically disproving
Biblical events, though seemingly missing the point, can be useful simply for the reason that it forces us to read the Bible metaphorically.

2005-09-19T15:55:00.000-07:00

Theodicy

Language

2005-09-19T15:12:00.000-07:00

"The awareness of language may begin with ordinary consciousness, but it soon becomes clear that language is a means of intensifying consciousness."

-Frye, p.28

Is language really the intensifying of consciousness? Where did language begin? Some would say that we learned to speak out of a desire to communicate. Certainly, language is a method to express ideas and opinions. But is that really why we talk? Language is a very imperfect machine. Words rarely if ever capture true essence or meaning, even when supported by various adjectives, adverbs, etc. Even carefully thought out sentences can seem ambiguous. True, language is useful in communicating thoughts. But maybe, given the loose interpretation of words, language has evolved, not as a way to express thought, but as a way to conceal thought. Not to inform, but to deceive. The British poet Oliver Goldsmith wrote, "The true use of speech is not so much to express our wants as to conceal them." French statesman Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand is credited with saying, "Speech was given to man to disguise his thoughts or to help him hide his thoughts." Could language, which was originally created as a way to intensify consciousness, have evolved into a thing which twists thoughts? How else could words still be so vague and ambiguous, after millenia of development? By this time, language should be so intricate and precise that it leaves no doubt as to the meaning of words. Certainly, given the vague, roundabout communications of politicians, businesspeople, and lawyers these days, it would seem that language is somewhat underdeveloped.

2005-09-19T15:09:00.000-07:00

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
He was driving down the alley in a noisy yellow Ford
With one hand upon the throttle,
And the other on a bottle
Of Petes Blue Ribbon Ale.

I'm with Socrates

2005-09-19T15:05:00.000-07:00

"For Socrates, real justice, the justice to be reached by dialectic, not rhetorically, can exist only in a different world from this. But where is such a world, if the word where in fact applies to it? Is it another world, or the world we enter at death, or this world after a revolution?"Frye, p. 14
Last summer, I was driving peacefully in my car. All of a sudden, I was pulled over by a police officer, who claimed I had failed to stop at a stop sign. I told him he was full of it, that I hadn't run any stop signs. Predictably, he gave me the ticket anyway.Later on I went into the courthouse. I went to the desk and gave the lady my ticket. She said I owed $160.
With every other ticket, I had grumbled, paid, then shut up. But this was too much. Not only was the amount of the fine ridiculous, I also had no sense of ever having broken the law. I was going to court on this one.I got my court date a few months later. I came to the courtroom, and there was the fat, greasy policeman himself. Sitting next to him was a dumpy lady with thick glasses, a city prosecutor. I had waived my right to an attorney, simply because I didn't know what was going on. I didn't expect to be prosecuted. In the back of my mind, I kind of saw myself coming into the courtroom, having a nice heart to heart with the judge, maybe joking with him a little bit, then going home after getting everything sorted out.
I lost the trial. The frumpy prosecutor got the cop on the stand and proceded to ask him hundreds of insignificant questions about how he defines a stop, where he was at the time, what I had done, etc. My argument was that, although I may not have come to a "regulation" stop, I had braked, looked both ways, and was clear to proceed. Besides, how many people come to a full stop at an empty intersection?
The legal system in this country is based entirely on rhetoric. An ambiguous law exists, and the victor of a trial is the side that uses the most skillful rhetoric in relation to that law. Had my trial been dialectic in nature, I have no doubt that I would have won. I was fined simply because I had broken the letter of the law. I made a "rolling stop." This was apparently enough basis to fine me 160 dollars and jack up my insurance rates. MY point was that, although my stop was not "full and complete," I had clearly made an effort to stop, and I never put anyone in danger. If I blasted past the sign and nearly clipped a pedestrian, then I would certainly be to blame. But I didn't hurt anyone, I didn't even come close!
In a dialectical trial, I would be permitted to discuss the logic of the law and the validity of the fine. Unfortunately, neither the letter nor the spirit of the law may be questioned, and I'm 160 bucks poorer for it.

212 journal starts here

2005-09-19T14:57:00.000-07:00

Hello

Welcome to my e-journal.
This is my first entry. I hope you enjoy reading it.

I certainly enjoyed writing it.

In the weeks to come, dear reader, you will witness amazing things happening on this page.
Feats of journal writing that defy description. You will say, Wow! Awesome! I wish I thought of that first! Trust me, it will be neat.

But right now I'm going to watch tv.

Stay tuned!

Enough chitchat Mr. Ward

2005-06-22T10:59:00.000-07:00

Paper #2: Topic#1: What I know about myth that I didn't know before/what difference does it make?

Myth is the imprint of humanity, embedded in our collective consciousness. It is the blood which runs in our veins, the force of destiny, and the window through which we can perceive the mysteries of the human condition.
One thing I have learned this semester is that myth is an inextricable aspect of all our lives. This is a fact I would not have believed before this class, because I could not have fully understood the statement. The word ‘myth’ is a powerful word, but its connotations are ambiguous. Before taking this class my perception was that myths were valuable only in that they could be used to understand antiquated perceptions of the world, or as children’s stories. I believe this notion of myth is widely held these days; the constant pressures of science and religion to convert people to singular modes of thinking has led our civilization to dismiss the ancient stories as quaint relics. Even one of the definitions of the word, from the American Heritage dictionary, is: a fiction or half-truth, esp. one that forms part of an ideology.
The trouble is that people these days take things too literally. No one is willing to look beyond the monsters and the magic, which clearly do not exist, to see the metaphors, the singular meanings of the stories, which still ring true in our lives. Myths are taken at face value any more, which makes them easy to dismiss as fantasies.
One concept that struck me as intriguing is the intertwining of Myth and Reality. As people have developed through the ages, their myths and legends have developed alongside them, and have been left behind like footprints, a record of human experience. In this way, we cannot separate life from myth. Perhaps without myth, life would continue, but it would be a life shrouded in darkness, devoid of meanings, memory, or explanations. And without life, what would there be to mythologize? They are two sides of the same coin. Life creates the constants, the difficulties and obstacles we will forever face, and myth records how we have faced them. Myth is like a cast made from the original shape of history.
There are certainly flaws to this argument. If myth could explain everything, then we would no longer need to make decisions for ourselves. All we would need to do is look up our life in a textbook, and base our actions on the behaviors of the characters in the stories. The single greatest flaw of the myth is that it cannot account for all individual reactions to difficult situations. Heracles made his own decisions. So did Odysseus, and Prometheus, and Gilgamesh. But the things those heroes did are not necessarily what we would do in the same situation. This is what distances myth from our own experiences, the realization that we cannot mimic the deeds of the heroes.
This was probably the greatest reason why I had little faith in the power of myth in my life. It seemed a world too distant, too alien to have any relation to me. But it was not only my personal opinions that created this rift. I believe that the influence of myth is facing an increasingly stiff resistance from the forces of society. In this world, children are not brought up to think of themselves as heroes. They may be told positive things, that they are special and unique, to raise their self –esteem or some other personal value, but the overbearing certainty is that from the day we are put in school, we are expected to become functioning cogs in an elaborate machine.
How are we supposed to equate ourselves with the great heroes in myth, when we live in a world where the mundane is encouraged? Not just encouraged, but standard. We are bred not to recognize ourselves in those heroes, and so the events in our lives, which parallel theirs, go unnoticed as common occurrences. We face the same monumental tasks, but to compare oneself to the might of Achilles or the bravery of Odysseus is hard to do. What were Oedipus’ thoughts and emotions when tragedy struck him down?
I once believed that it was impossible to equate oneself to the mighty heroes of myth, because they came from a time when such adventures as they had were possible, in illo tempore. But I was suppressed with the common notion that the individual is not important, that heroic deeds were out of the scope of the common man. At last it has become clear that the heroes in myth are not gods, but men (or women), and their actions, sacrifices, and tragedies are mortal. Every hero story is an echo of reality. It is not the actions of the hero so much as the situations they face which strike a chord in our being. Those archetypal difficulties of love, war, and strife are permanent aspects of the human condition, and we face them every day. When one is faced with tragedy, the point is not to see oneself as Oedipus, but as a facet of Oedipus, the embodiment of human suffering, and wonder how he felt. If we try to learn from myth, then we can realize that we are not alone in our dramas, and it can help us through difficult times; we become greater people. But if we chose to ignore myth, then we are left only with the linear tome of history to explain human action, and that is a difficult route to take, and will lead to no greater enlightenment of why things are the way they are.

Bad Days

2005-06-18T21:21:00.000-07:00

I was reading Daniel Lockhart's journal entry about bad days. It was very positive, and it made me feel good about things. His attitude is that he doesn't even have bad days, that bad experiences are only speed bumps on the road to good days.
I wish I could be so upbeat.
When I have a bad day, brother, I know it. I've had great days, and I've had good days. I've had days that were just so-so. Some days start great then disintigrate into chaos. Some days start crappy and work their way up. But every now and then, I have a really, really bad day. Nothing good about it.
Now I understand that attitude is everything. Every day has the potential to be good if we look at it the right way and all that. We face obstacles constantly that could bring us down, but we overcome them, so there's no need to worry. Things will always be better in the morning. Life gives you lemons, so make lemonade.
But come ON. There are some days that, no matter what you do, it just feels like the whole world is laying its shit on your shoulders. Think about the story of Job, and all the misery he put up with. He may not have said anything bad about God, but I bet he was thinking 'Man, this was one awful day'. What about the Jews in Hitler's concentration camps? I doubt they had any good days. I don't have any experience to compare to that, but I've had some lousy days.
Make no bones about it, I agree with Daniel for the most part. A good attitude is how bad days turn good. And strangers can really help a guy out when he's in trouble. But strangers can also penalize, rob, beat, and kill you. I'm saying right here that bad days DO exist, and sometimes the only option is to try and weather the storm and hope your luck turns around, because at that point having a good attitude about all your misfortune doesn't make any sense.

06/06/2005

2005-06-06T17:49:00.000-07:00

Tragic Pet Stories

After today's class, I reminisced about the various animals to pass through my life. I had some great pets, but one by one they all met with their 'sparagmos'. Below is a brief chronicle of the decline and fall of a few of my animal companions:

Cats

My family has been through a number of felines. We are now on our third generation, a pair of ungrateful beasts: two unhealthy looking farm cats with dubious backgrounds named Ivan and Stumpy. However, I vaguely recall the first noble line, three sturdy cats who made the journey with us from California to Montana, back when I was a young lad of three years.
Guido, Smokey, and Earl were their names. They were a gray tabby, a Himalayan, and a Calico, respectively. Of the three, only Smokey met with a kind fate, passing away peacefully of old age in his sleep.
Guido and Earl, on the other hand, were done in under much grislier circumstances.
Young Earl was outside one cold night. A resourceful cat, Earl searched out the warmest possible place where he could curl up for a long sleep. That place turned out to be the engine block of my father's pickup. This would not have been a bad idea, but it turned out my father had to go somewhere early the next day. In the morning, he went out to warm up the truck, completely unaware of Earl's precarious position. Poor Earl ended up caught in the serpentine belt, a bad place for a cat.
Guido's fate was no less gruesome. He was also an adventurous type, often making jaunts into our field to hunt mice and gophers. One summer a local farmer came by. Our field is a potent source of alfalfa, and the agreement with the farmer was this: he would hay our field, and in return for this service he would keep some of the hay for himself.
So one sunny summer's day the farmer drove up with his haying rig. The responsibility of our family was to make sure all the pets were inside. All of them were accounted for, except Guido. The man was already out in the fields, so we just hoped for the best. As you may have already guessed, Guido lost the battle with the hay swather.
For a picture of a hay swather, click here.
Those two fine mousers, bless them both, met their maker in true Agamemnonic fashion.

Fish

I had a fish tank in my room in high school. For the few months I kept it, I witnessed the brief lives of at least sixteen fish. I don't know if the water was too cold, the pH not balanced, the food too plentiful, or the surroundings too depressing, but one by one they all went belly-up. The only one to survive more than a few days was my proud accomplishment as a fish-keeper. He was a little black and red fellow. I named him Jaws, and he was the only fish who lived long enough to earn a title. Even though he was surrounded by mayhem and death, Jaws kept paddling around his tank. He was the sole reason I kept the tank for as long as I did. Jaws lived for at least three weeks, but perhaps the constant turnover of roommates was more than he could handle. I doubt he had time to make any friends before I scooped out their decaying corpses. So it came to pass that one afternoon I came to visit my fish, and found him stuck to the water pump. He had apparently decided to end it in the morning, because there were deep grooves in his pale body from being sucked into the grate for so long. That's all I have to say about that.

Dog

This is not a tale of gruesome dismemberment or suicide. This is just a sad story.
Our dog Lucy was a fine girl. She was a very polite, well trained little border collie, and you couldn't ask for a sweeter dog. She had also journeyed with us from California to Montana, though she outlived the cats by a number of years. In fact she lived to be a very old dog. But as with all living creatures, as she grew older her body began to deteriorate. Her shiny black fur got dull and gray. White cataracts gradually clouded her vision. A hard tumor developed in her hip, and she had a more and more difficult time walking. Her little body got smaller and bonier.
When Lucy had her seventeenth birthday, she was a very old dog. She was completely blind, her tumor was swelling, and she spent most of the day sleeping in her dog bed. When she did limp around the house, she relied purely on her still keen border collie sense of smell.
We knew that Lucy's time was coming to an end. With winter rapidly approaching, my father knew that he would have to dig a grave for her before the ground froze solid. So he went out to our backyard and found a quiet spot by the fence behind two pine trees, and started digging.
He had been working about an hour, and a medium size hole was starting to develop. But then, who should come along, limping and panting, but old Lucy herself. This old blind dog, who could barely get around the house, had stumbled outside, through the yard, and pinpointed my father in a remote corner, digging her grave. She of course could smell him, and she came bumbling over with her tail wagging, as if to say 'Wat'cha doin? Can I help?'
This broke my father's heart.
Lucy died not much later. It happened one night, when she was in great pain from her ailments. My parents rushed her to the vet, to put her to sleep, but nobody was at the vet's office. There was nothing they could do. She died wrapped in blankets in my mother's arms, staring at her questioningly with her blind old eyes.

Words of Wisdom

2005-06-06T16:21:00.000-07:00

"Ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself. I mean, it is easy for me to put on a show, and be cocky...I can show you some really fancy movement...but to express one's self honestly, not lying to oneself...and to express myself honestly, now that my friend is...very hard to do."
-Bruce Lee

2005-06-04T14:40:00.000-07:00

Glorfindel and the Balrog

.........

2005-06-03T10:21:00.000-07:00

Technology makes life more efficient??
Hogwash, that's what I say.
Confound this e-journal. It despises me and my feeble efforts to manipulate it.

Mytho-logic-al

2005-06-02T11:54:00.000-07:00

I was reluctant to be the anti-myth guy. I don't like being an advocate for anything, because I'm rarely a hard-liner. I've spent most of my life seeing both sides of a lot of things, so its uncomfortable for me to speak for one line of reasoning. My arguments aren't very convincing, because I keep thinking of ways I'm wrong. I wouldn't make a very good lawyer.
Anyway, I would like to write my opinions. I like myths, I'm for them, I think they are important. On the other hand, I'm against the idea that myths should have too much control over our lives.
This is why I think myths (some myths) should not be taken seriously:
I believe the popular opinion is that myths are simple stories from long ago that explained the world to people in more naive times. They are harmless, even charming stories that reflect how our understanding of the world has grown over time. In general, if you ask anyone on the street if he or she believes in myths, the answer will be 'no'.
Maybe the word 'myth' has the wrong connotations, because the power of Myth is alive and well today. Something which has always puzzled me is how modern people accept some myths as 'truth' and reject others as 'myths'. I am thinking mainly in the area of world religion. For some reason, there are multitudes who will unquestioningly accept the fables of the Bible without batting an eye, but ask them if they believe in any of the Greek gods, and they will laugh out loud, and call them 'myths'. They are ALL myths! Why do so many people not understand this?
People have to believe in something. But there are so many fanatics in this world, religious zealots I mean, who are willing to kill and be killed for a MYTH. We need to reconsider the meaning of this word, because it wields more power than we realize, and it can be more destructive than good.
Why we cannot be rid of the myth (why myths are good):
What is this world without myth? We have come a long ways in the areas of Science and Technology. People are increasingly secular and skeptical. In a lot of ways, we have grown up. But there is so much out there which is unexplained. Every big question the ancients tried to answer in their myths, from the beginnings of time, to the meaning of life, to the mystery of death, remains unanswered. Without myth and legend, we are left in a cold world of explanations and circuits, which can only go so far to ease our discontent. I can reach the other side of the world in less than a day, I can make myself heard from miles away. I could plug myself into a computer with a heater and a refrigerator and never see the light of day again. But this mystery of life, of what happens and what is going on, will always gnaw at my mind. Science has created more questions than it has answered. This is why we will always need myths, to explain the unexplainable, and to give us solace and guidance in this dark world.

2005-06-02T11:46:00.000-07:00

Albert Camus

The name is s-p-e-n-C-e-r

2005-05-31T20:50:00.000-07:00

The Myth of Sisyphus

Last week at some point the myth of Sisyphus was mentioned. Sisyphus was one of the mortals punished by the gods for disobediance. Unlike Prometheus, whose liver was pecked out every day by an eagle, Sisyphus was doomed to roll a rock up a hill. When he reached the top, the rock would roll back down and he would start over. Prometheus suffered an unspeakable punishment. But Sisyphus' task was not so outlandish, and can even be compared to our own lives. Albert Camus wrote an inspiring essay about the myth of Sisyphus, which I found very interesting. You can read it here at The Myth of Sisyphus.

Once upon a time, there was a group called 3

2005-05-31T12:40:00.000-07:00

But then the group defied the gods, and was smashed to little bits.
Here are four myths by three people:
By Spencer Ward

Hopi

The world was created by Tawa, the sun spirit, who regretted the emptiness. Spider Woman also helped. Spider Woman created all the creatures in the First World. When it became clear that managing the whole world would be a lot of work, Tawa and Spider divided themselves into smaller gods to run everything. From Tawa came Muiyinwuh, god of all life germs, and from Spider Woman came Huzruiwuhti, goddess of gems, silver, and material wealth. Then came other gods, and also the Death God appeared, who was not created, but came from bad magic.
Then Tawa and Spider Woman had the idea to make the world be between the above and below worlds, on the shimmering waters. So they created the earth, and Spider Woman made all the creatures. Then she made humans, to rule over the creatures, and divided them into clans. Each clan was given a name: Puma, Snake, Antelope, etc., which is how the Hopi tribes came to be. She gave man and woman responsibilities. The man was to weave blankets and hunt game. The woman was to build the house and take care of the family.

Inuit

The Inuit say that the earth was created by Raven, who was really a man with a Raven's beak. When the earth was churned up from under the sea, Raven thrust his beak into it and fixed it into place. The first land was a little island where Raven lived.
The Inuit also believe in one supreme goddess, named Sedna. Sedna was a beautiful girl who was very choosy about her suitors. One day, a seabird paddled up in a kayak and promised her love and luxeries. Sedna ran off with the bird-man, but all his words were lies. She was miserable. When Sedna's father rescued her, he killed the bird, and the two of them escaped. But the other seabirds chased after them and caused giant waves with their wings. Sedna's father, afraid for his life, threw Sedna overboard to appease the birds. Sedna kept grabbing the side of the boat, and each time her father cut her fingers off at a joint. Each time her fingers fell in the water, they became the animals familiar to the Inuit. When her fingers and thumbs were all gone, the birds flew off, and her father helped her back in the boat. She was angry. When they got back home, Sedna got her huskies to eat her fathers hands. He woke up cursing, and suddenly a big hole opened up, and they all fell into the underworld, where Sedna rules the living and dead to this day. She controls all the animals, but since she was mistreated, she is an angry goddess, and needs to be appeased by the tribal shamans. Only then will she send her animals to the people.

Japan

In the beginning, everything was mixed together in a great swirling mass. As time went on, the lighter elements rose to the top, and the heavier ones sunk to the bottom, creating the sky and the earth. From this chaos a reed arose, which was Kunikokotatchi, the first goddess. Several other gods later appeared, and two of them were Izanami and Izanagi. These two looked down at the oceans and decided to find land to inhabit. They thrust a jeweled spear into the depths, and when they pulled it out, some earth dripped down and created the first island of Japan. Izanami and Izanagi went down to the island and built their house there. Then they went their separate ways to explore. When they met again, Izanami said 'my what a fine man I have found'. Then they had their first child, but he was an ugly little leech-child, so they sent him away on a reed boat. He later became Ebisu, god of fishermen. Izanami and Izanagi couldn't understand why their child was deformed, so they inquired to the other gods. They were told that, in order for their children to be well, the man must speak first. So they went their separate ways again, and when they met, Izanagi said ' my what a fine woman I have found'. Then they gave birth to the other eight islands of Japan. And then Izanami gave birth to the gods who would shape the earth, but as she gave birth to the fire god, she was badly burned and died.
Izanagi was so angry, he cut fire into three pieces with his sword. Then he went in search for Izanami. He found her in the underworld, but she had already eaten there, and could not return. Izanagi lit a torch with his a tooth from his comb, and saw her decaying and covered with maggots. Izanami was furious, and she sent evil spirits after Izanagi, who ran all the way back to the pass between living and dead. He threw down a huge boulder to block the way. Izanami yelled at him, saying every day she would kill 1000 people and take them away. Izanagi replied that every day he would make 1500 babies.

Huron

In the beginning, a goddess fell from the sky. Loons saw her falling and caught her, but couldnt' carry her, so they yelled at the other animals to help. They ended up putting her down on turtles back, but she needed land to live on. Several of the creatures volunteered to swim to the bottom of the ocean to get some earth. Otter, muskrat, and toad went down. Otter and muskrat came up, but they didn't have any earth. After a while, toad finally surfaced, and in his mouth was some earth. They put it on turtle's back, and to this day turtle is supporting the world. In time, the goddess became pregnant with twins, one good, the other evil. The good twin was born normally, but the evil one came out his mother's side, killing her. Then they went their separate ways. The good twin made all the animals useful to people, while the evil one made bears and wolves of monstrous size. Eventually, their mother came to good twin in a dream, telling him evil twin had to go. Good twin could only be hurt with a sack of beans, and evil twin could only be hurt by an antler. They fought, and eventually evil twin was defeated, and turned into evil spirit. He went into the far west, and now rules over all that die.

These myths are all similar; they are all in the old tradition. A goddess is always very important in all of them. Some have a male god as well, but he is never in a position of greater power.

Seen, Done and Said (paper 1)

2005-05-27T16:06:00.000-07:00

How we make things sacred - seeing, doing, saying

Humans have been giving inanimate objects special importance for as long as we have been around. We give these otherwise mundane things meaning because they have had an impact on our lives.
There is one thing I own which I have explicitly made sacred. It is probably the only posession which has ever truly meant something to me. Between my watch and my hand I wear a beaded bracelet, which I suppose could be called my talisman. It is a symbol of strength to me, and me alone. The story goes like this:
The bracelet itself is not remarkable. It is just a loop of brown beads. It belonged to my ex-girlfriend, back when we shared an apartment on the south side of town. Sarah and I had been living together for the better part of two years. We had a great time together, but spend enough time with anyone and they will wear on you. So it came to pass that I was moving out, and we were breaking up. Any time that happens, emotions run high, and I was feeling completely miserable. In particular, my self esteem was shot, and I felt like a failure.
As if my life wasn't bad enough, one day the bathroom sink clogged up. It always had a hard time draining, but it wasn't draining at all any more. It was full of murky, soapy water. I cleared out all the stuff under the sink and put a plastic container under the basin. Then I unscrewed the pipe and fished around the drain with a pen until some debris began to loosen. Out dropped the bracelet, along with a torrent of sink water. Then I screwed everything back together. The whole process, which I thought would be difficult, took five minutes and made almost no mess.
I rinsed the bracelet off and showed it to my girlfriend. She said I could keep it. So now I wear the beads on my left hand. It is a reminder of how I fixed the sink. I need only to look at that bracelet to remember that I can accomplish things. I can stand on my own two feet.
I inherited the bracelet in the last days of our relations, a time when I was feeling weak. I held on to it like it was the only solid thing left in the world. Time has passed, and I have learned a lot about life. Things and people we love will come and go; nothing is permanent. Now, the bracelet is a symbol of my strength. Even though that part of my life was dying, a new chapter has begun, and I will always endure.

Ainulindale - The Music of the Ainur

2005-05-26T08:03:00.000-07:00

My favorite

In class we have been discussing the various myths of creation from around the world. I was reading some of these myths, and I remembered my favorite one. It's not a real myth from any specific culture, but it is very similar to the old Celtic belief that the world is held together by an all-embracing music. It is J.R.R. Tolkien's 'Ainulindale', the first chapter of The Silmarillion, which is the history of Middle Earth before the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.
Ainulindale begins: 'There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Iluvatar; and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made. And he spoke to them, propounding to them themes of music; and they sang before him, and he was glad. But for a long while they sang only each alone, or but few together, while the rest hearkened; for each comprehended only that part of the mind of Iluvatar from which he came, and in the understanding of their brethren they grew but slowly. Yet ever as they listened they came to deeper understanding, and increased in unison and harmony.'
The story goes on a lot longer, and I will place a link to a slightly more complete reading here. It's a little confusing, but it is an amazing myth for anyone interested in the beginnings of Tolkien's world. Ainulindale explains the creation of the world as the work of the Ainur's music, and the origins of men and elves as Iluvatar's children (the dwarves are another story). Most importantly, Ainulindale explains the presence of evil in Tolkien's world, by introducing Melkor, Sauron's predecessor and superior. The story is much too complex for a journal entry, so I'll end by recommending The Silmarillion to anyone interested.

Umm...notes?

2005-05-24T15:19:00.000-07:00

Some notes for the last few:

Mnemosyne: mother of muses/memory
The word 'myth' is from the greek word mythos, meaning story
An epiphany is required- some sort of 'aha'
Myth is the precedent for every action
Etiology - how things came to be
EVERYTHING IS TESTABLE
Anamnesis - to remember
Amathia - to forget
Eros - the force (god) of love
en-theos - possessed (god inside)
SEXSON NEVER LIES
Sparagmos - torn to shreds (it happens)
Archetype - image or pattern which is universal
Stereotype - cultural convention
Tawa - Hopi sun spirit
Poesis - origin of poetry, to make stuff up
In illo tempore - the great time, when time didn't matter
Psyche means soul
Incest is important in mythology
MARRIAGE is DEATH
Marriage is also rape
Marriage sucks
Myths of creation:
latest: Male god speaks
before: goddess dismembered by male warrior
before: goddess created world with help from dragon consort (or serpent)
before: goddess did it by herself
CYCLES
Death and rebirth - the gods of vegetation
Initiated - happy, Uninitiated - unhappy (maybe, depends)
Gnosis - knowledge
Anything is sacred if we make it that way

Myth Happens

2005-05-22T18:18:00.000-07:00

'All life is displaced myth'

I wish life could be so simple.
However, I don't think myths describe all life, or that all life becomes myth. Maybe the statement would be more accurate if it went: 'All myth is a partial displacement of life'.
I don't believe that our lives are so ordinary that everything has already been done. Perhaps in a general sense we can look back in history and see that nothing is original. Harry discovers a star he's never seen, but that star has been recorded by astronomers for thousands of years. Lucille's true love leaves her for another. She's not unique, that sort of thing has happened to millions of other broken hearts. Robert believes in God. Ivan does not. Helen doesn't believe in anything. Every thought, action, accomplishment, and epiphany, no matter how startlingly new or different to our experience, can be attributed to someone else in history. In this sense, our lives are nothing more than the repeating pattern of history. In this sense, every facet of life already has a myth behind it.
The only problem I have with this theory is the intrusion of individual experience. Throughout all time, humanity has faced every possible situation, and has responded to each situation in every possible way. But no two people have ever seen the same situations, reacted the same way, or been in the same circumstances. Throughout this stream of consciousness we all experience, every individual reacts in certain ways to the myriad decisions he or she faces in everyday life, which influences the path that individual takes. In this way, we are all unique.
A myth is important because it explains a small aspect of this enormous labrynth of life. There is not a myth for everything. One could say that there is, because people live lives, and their experience makes myths. But to attach myth to all human experience would remove all value of the word; when all life is myth, then there can be no Myths. We all have lives to lead and truths to learn. Even though I walk the worn path of history, I am constantly discovering things which are new to me, if only me. It is that individual experience which is unique to me of all people, and it will never be ubiquitous.

Welcome this is journal entry #1

2005-05-21T10:52:00.000-07:00

An Early Memory

One of my first memories was not of disobeying my parents. It was much grander than that, perhaps the hallmark memory of my rebellious youth. You see, it was not just my godly parents I upset, but the entire system, especially the part imposed on preschoolers. What follows is a tale of intrigue, suspense, betrayal, and most importantly, freedom.
I was a quiet sort growing up. I lived with my parents and younger brother somewhere in middle or southern California, but not in the city. We lived by a dirt road in a pleasant ranch house with a big lawn and a garden, away from hustle and bustle. We only had one neighbor closeby, at least to my limited perception. I was about three at the time, so my scope of the world extended about a mile in any direction, at the most.
As I came of age, my parents thought it would be a good idea to introduce me to the world. My mom took me into town and put me in some kind of daycare/preschool. I didn't want to go, but it was a small group of kids, and the teacher lady was nice. It wasn't bad, and I got used to it.
Then one day for some reason I had to go to a new school, in the city. Unlike the other place, which was part time, I had to be here all day (at least it felt like it). It was also much bigger, and there were many rooms with lots of kids, instead of the one room I was used to.
At lunchtime, after we ate, everyone spilled out onto the playground, which was a huge yard. This was the time when the sheer number of kids was most apparent. There must have been hundreds. I've never liked big groups, and on top of that there were only five big wheels to go around. The only time I got to ride one I was told my time was up after five minutes and I had to share.
That was the last straw. I couldn't handle the place. I had a big wheel at home I could ride all day. The yard was surrounded by a high chain link fence, patrolled by armed sentries, but in one corner of the big playground a hill sloped upwards. At the top of the hill stood a tree, and behind the tree was the farthest corner boundary, where for some reason the fence was only half as tall as anywhere else.
I had made one friend in my time there, a boy named Jeffrey who shared my views on the big wheel problem. I found him and told him to follow me. We climbed up the high hill to the tree and hid behind it. I looked to see if anyone was around, but nobody played on the hill. They were all down on the pavement fighting over big wheels. I made my move.
The fence was easy to climb. My small hands grasped between the metal links well, and before I knew it I was over the top. It was only about five feet tall. When my feet hit the free ground, I looked through the fence at Jeffrey. His eyes were wide, and he looked absolutely terrified. I realized I hadn't told him my plan yet. I asked him if he was coming. He ran away.
Abandoned by my companion, I found myself alone and on the run. I told myself it didn't matter, that Jeffrey wasn't the sort for this kind of thing. He would have been a liability. Without further ado, I started walking down the sidewalk. I could see the kids still playing down below. The guards swung their nightsticks in a bored sort of way, standing lazily in the shade. I had escaped unnoticed.
Soon I passed the main school building, and I found myself walking along a row of houses. On the other side of me were cars racing along the street. I'd never seen so many cars before, and I wondered how people were supposed to get across. For the first time, I felt a little intimidated. Nevertheless, I pushed on.
After a while I couldn't see the school anymore. I was coming over a hill, and I could see endless buildings and trees below me. As I was passing a yellow house, I looked and saw an old man sitting on the porch. He looked at me curiously, and asked me something about what I was doing. I don't remember what happened next, but I found myself back at the school with the old man. My mom was there, and all the people who worked there were looking for me.
Things worked out differently than I had planned, but they still worked out. I never had to go back to that place. I'm not sure if it was because I had made my point to my mom, or if they wouldn't let me. In any case things were back to normal. I remember a lot of things about that day, but the one thing I can't is what I planned on doing on the outside. I don't remember having any sort of destination, except home. I suppose I was just a born rebel.