Hasty Judgment

I meant to post this last month:

Jan. 19, 2008
Denver had about 4 inches of snow again last night, so, instead of riding my bike, I walked to the Civic Center bus station at the head of 16th Street and took the free bus down to Wynkoop St., which is at the other end of the 16th Street Mall. The bus is designed mostly for standing, although there are some seats. A young man was sitting in the only seat near the front when I got on, and some people were still crossing the street in front of the bus. One of them was an elderly man with a cane and a hat emblazoned, “WWII Veteran.” He boarded the bus slowly. The young man offered him the seat, but he said, “No, I can’t sit. Go ahead and sit down.” Maybe his knees hurt and he had difficulty getting up again after sitting.

It occurred to me that, if I had boarded the bus about two blocks later and had seen the young man sitting while the veteran stood, I would have been annoyed that people are so discourteous. Just goes to show how ready I still am to jump to conclusions about people on the basis of inadequate information.

Giving up theology?

I have several times considered giving up my pursuit of theology, for the following reasons:

• Why write something that few will read, fewer will see as a positive contribution, and will otherwise sit on a dusty shelf, which is already weighed down by uncountable books?
• My writing is stuck, anyway.
• I am puzzled regarding how I can use it for others.
• The problems regarding such topics of interest as justification and the nature of the Adamic covenant are mountainous, complex, and probably insoluble.
• The people already discussing said topics keep generating more material than I can keep track of, much less read.
• And what’s the point?

The last item is the most important: Why study theology? I have often pursued it because of a fascination with its beauty, as I have occasionally pursued mathematics. Both involve systems of complexity and beauty, with intricate problems to be solved. Theology can be pursued as a science, adapting the mode of study to the object studied, enabling the student to see God more clearly and appreciate him more deeply.

Solving problems, gaining insight, helping others see—these are good goals. But if these activities change so that they treat God as a problem to be solved more than the Lord to be loved and obeyed, and if they treat other people as needing to be corrected more than to be served, then the whole enterprise needs serious re-adjustment.

Further, science and mathematics are not the only, and perhaps not the best, paradigms for applying to theology. Considering that the Bible consists largely of poetry, poetic prose, dramatic narrative, nightmarish visions, parable, and very little of what we would call sustained logical argument, perhaps the theologian who emphasizes analytical essays needs a great input of non-analytic theology.

And why not give up theology? The biggest reason is that it has profoundly changed for the better the way I see God and other people. For example, before I went to Aberdeen to study, I thought that theology and ecclesiology were what united any given body of believers. What we believe and how we organize ourselves is, no doubt, important, but these criteria do not distinguish the Church from a political party or fraternal club. What unites us as Christians is Jesus himself. It is his faithful activity, and not our poor attempts (largely failures) at obedience. This change in perspective came embarrassingly late in life, but I’m thankful that it came at all.

St. Paul’s own theological letters often break out in doxology. That’s where all theology should culminate.

The Brewery Where I Go to Church

This is the brewery where I attend church in Denver. Actually, it has been converted to a student center that serves the colleges in Denver, and they rent major space to City Presbyterian Church. Today was my third day to attend services there. They have two services each Sunday, one at 8:30 and the other at 11:00, with Sunday School between. Great preaching!

T&T

Hunting Brambles

“No, there are no brambles in the park,” said the locals, “brambles” being the Scots word for blackberries.

Unconvinced, he nonetheless took the boy out to look for brambles. The boy needed a day out, an adventure, so off they went to see for themselves. The boy held the basket and his older friend’s hand.

Was the sky overcast that day? Memory paints it thus, but “overcast” is the default setting for Aberdeenshire skies, except in high summer. Since bramble season is runs form June through September, the skies may well have been clear. In any case, it wasn’t raining, which meant that it had been raining recently and would be again soon.

Down past the Post Office and General Store, to the corner and catty-cornered across to the church, past the yews and stones in the church-yard, then into the playground of the Park. At the opposite corner of the Park, behind the soccer field stood a copse of pines and larches, holding the suspicion of brambles. The companions chatted about whatever weighty matters filled the world of a 3-year-old. They were dressed against the chill and did not notice it.

The copse was tall and light-filled. The undergrowth admitted paths, and did indeed contain brambles in full fruit, sweet, black, plump, ready for eating and baking, should any berries remain from immediate consumption. And, yes, there were plenty for then and later. They plucked and ate and filled the basket. Are there ever enough berries in the world? Maybe not, but that day’s crop filled the basket with enough for a pie later. The boy spilled the entire contents once, as boys of that age may be predicted to do, but the outing was about adventure, not efficiency. Between them they picked up the spillage, and the boy, aware of his appointed task, carried the basket safely from the copse to his parents’ flat above the General Store and Post Office, rewarded with their approval and with blackberry crumble for desert.

The older friend later wrote some papers in Scotland, but their significance has faded when compared with that hunt for brambles.

Sunset over the Rockies, seen from Sloan’s Lake

Fading of sunshine explodes in a glory,
splits fragments of orange,
to robe the high peaks in imperial purple.
Above and below shout the shards of bright sunlight from heaven,
declining from sight yet proclaiming the victory won, ever winning,
no darkness can counter,
though the interim threatens to drown all our hopes
in the fear of abandonment.
He will return, righteous, reigning, resplendent.

Thursday Sunset

The route to King Sooper’s (grocery store) from the house where I am staying in Denver goes around Sloan’s Lake. Last night’s trip to the store and back occurred just after sunset. As I drove along the east side of the lake, the sunset above the mountains was brilliant orange, the lake was brilliant orange, and the mountains between water and sky were deep purple. Ab-so-lutely, gob-smackingly amazing. The colors lasted 5 or 10 minutes. What a gift, to have seen this and to remember the One who made it.

Meaning of Life? 1

If our chief end is “to glorify God and to enjoy him forever” (Westminster Shorter Catechism 1), then it’s very natural to ask how any particular person can use that axiom for direction and meaning in life. Does it indicate what to do, or just the manner of doing it? It implies that I must not do that which God forbids, but it doesn’t tell me whether I should be a plumber or a banker, whether I should live in Denver or London, or whether I should spend this moment praying or shaving. Or does it?

When we ask for direction or guidance or meaning, we ask amid a complex of dynamic circumstances. It does us no good to ask abstractly, because that isn't where we are. We are “in the middle of things” (in media res) and “on the way.” We have at our hands a specific set of resources and responsibilities. We are connected to these friends and loved ones. We are in the hands of this God.

God tells us to come to him for wisdom (James 1:5). He is our Father, our Creator, our Redeemer, and therefore our chief point of reference for the deep questions like this. Prayer and bible study orient us towards him. They orient us to the contours of reality. They begin to transform the illusions that we have inherited from our culture (both inside and outside the church) into true vision. Thus prayer and bible study, done both corporately with the church and privately, are necessary media for drinking the wisdom of God.

How shall I seek his glory? He has put specific tasks in front of me. Some of them are mundane and we often perform them almost automatically: pay these bills, pick up bread and milk at the store, call Mom and Dad to keep in touch, call this list of friend who have been so kind, etc. Others tasks require much harder decisions and work: I am looking for a job, so do I stay in Huntsville or do I move to Denver to look for work? What preparations do I have to make for either route? How can I do this with minimum disruption to others?

Between the prairies of the mundane and the valley of the shadow of huge decisions lie the rolling hills of creativity. Negotiating them requires that we have some relief and leftover energy from climbing through the life-altering decisions, but they offer their own refreshment in return for work invested. I have been editing a book that a friend is writing. That’s one example. Writing this blog is another. And there are some projects that I have started and left hanging unfinished. Friends that have seen my outlines for those projects have encouraged me to continue, so I hope to start them up again. As it happens, the friend’s book, this blog, and several of my own projects all have explicitly theological aspects. Other activities that may not look especially God-ward do, in fact, relate to him because all of life comes from him. Painting, jogging, reading a good book, singing, baby sitting, and other simple activities can glorify God and give profound joy to others and to us.

Another clue about finding the specific goals of one’s own life comes from I Cor. 12 and Romans 12. God gives us gifts, spiritual and otherwise, for building up other people, not for promoting ourselves.

Conclusion: When we apply our gifts to opportunities for serving other people in joy, we will find that we also have grown. If we aim for self-fulfillment, we will find emptiness. If we aim to fulfill others, we will find, as a side effect, that we also have been filled.

Sonnet

In response to a haiku, composed by Jeff Goldstein at proteinwisdom, I wrote the following:

“St. Paul Addressing Conservatives about Modern Immorality”

They multiply transgressions of the law.
Imagining the darkness light, they twist
God-given wisdom into foolish mist
that leads astray. This gold they turn to straw.

And, not content to maim themselves, they draw
more people to this death-perverted list,
compounding pain, becoming but the grist
for God’s relentless mills, as Moses saw.

But you self-righteous Christian Pharisees,
repent of lovelessness, and from you knees
beg pardon. Jesus, who took our disease
and sin upon himself, reveals the truth and grace
of God. His wrath will fall in its due place.
His love will leave of sin no smallest trace.

Not great, but a gratifying effort.

PCA Rpt on FV and NPP; Comments

The Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), at its 2006 General Assembly, appointed an ad hoc committee to study the Federal Vision [FV], New Perspective [on Paul, NPP], and Auburn Avenue Theology." Their report can be found here.


Jeffrey Meyers lists 30 reasons not to approve the report.

Strength of Character in Jane Eyre

John Eldredge, in his book Wild at Heart, claims that men want three basic things in life: beauty, an adventure, and a fight. By comparison to that claim, Jane Eyre seems to be relatively feminine, since it lacks the element of fight. Jane, the character, does not seek a fight, does not seek to impose her view of the world on others, does not try to kill dragons or build a kingdom.

As an example of a more masculine Bildungsroman, look at the recent movie Batman Begins. The adolescent Bruce Wayne opts for revenge when the killer of his parents is paroled. When someone else kills the murderer before Wayne can, Wayne retreats from his home city and wanders the world until a mentor finds him and takes him to the headquarters of the League of Shadows for philosophical, emotional, and physical training. Wayne thus gains a strong sense of identity and integrity, as a result of which he refuses to join the League, returning instead to Gotham to follow his own pathway as the Batman.

Although Jane Eyre, especially by comparison to Batman Begins, is a feminine book, it is not pink and fluffy. Jane becomes a remarkably strong character who displays unusual insight into her own nature and a determination to be faithful and true to the responsibilities laid upon her. The book charts her growth from immaturity into that strength and integrity. The romantic interest of the book revolves around Jane’s growth, her integrity, and her struggle to be faithful to herself and to those around her.

At the beginning of the book a new friend, Helen Burns, challenges Jane’s attitude toward those who have mistreated her. When Jane on p. 48 (All quotations from Jane Eyre in this essay cite the paperback Bantam Classic edition / March 1981) comments, “If she struck me with that rod, I should get it from her hand; I should probably break it under her nose,” Burns responds (in part), “It is far better to endure patiently a smart which nobody feels but yourself, than to commit a hasty action whose evil consequences will extend to all connected with you: and, besides, the Bible bids us return good for evil.”

On p. 50 we see a continued interchange, in which Helen Burns, in all kindness and friendship, explicitly labels Jane’s attitude as heathen and un-Christian:

“But I feel this, Helen: I must dislike those who, whatever I do to please them, persist in disliking me; I must resist those who punish me unjustly. It is as natural as that I should love those who show me affection, or submit to punishment when I feel it is deserved.”

“Heathens and savage tribes hold that doctrine; but Christians and civilized nations disown it.”

“How? I don’t understand.”

“It is not violence that best overcomes hate–nor vengeance that most certainly heals injury.”

“What then?”

“Read the New Testament, and observe what Christ says, and how He acts; make His word your rule, and His conduct hour example.”

“What does he say?”

“Love your enemies; bless them that curse you; do good to them that hate you and despitefully use you.”

Over the course of several, Jane watches Helen embody that attitude in her own behavior and responses to appalling injustice and neglect. Her serenity and even affection for those that mistreat her astound Jane. By the end of the novel, about nine years later, we see these same qualities in Jane.

But the mature Jane avoids an extreme that seems at times to endanger Helen. Jane does not become a doormat for the abuse of others. Like Helen, she accepts the responsibilities that are hers, but, by the time she has left Lowood school, she has also learned to distinguish between the true responsibilities laid on her by God and the expectations of others. She has also learned not to be dismayed or deterred by the refusal of others to love her or to carry out their own responsibilities. Those situations cause her pain, sometimes deeply, but they no longer cripple her as they did when she was a child. Her speech (pp. 29 f.) at age ten to her Aunt Reed, who has just called her a Liar, shows her impatience with the injustice of others:

“I am not deceitful: if I were, I should say I loved you; but I declare I do not love you: I dislike you the worst of anybody in the world except John Reed: and this book about the Liar, you may give to your girl, Georgiana, for it is she who tells lies and not I.”

Mrs. Reed’s hands lay still on her work inactive: her eye of ice continued to dwell freezingly on mine.

“What more have you to say?” she asked, rather in the tone in which a person might address an opponent of adult age than such as is ordinarily used to a child.

That eye of hers, that voice, stirred every antipathy I had. Shaking from head to foot, thrilled with ungovernable excitement, I continued–

“I am glad you are no relation of mine. I will never call you aunt again as long as I live. I will never come to see you when I am grown up; and if any one asks me how I liked you, and how you treated me, I will say the very thought of you makes me sick, and that you treated me with miserable cruelty.”

Thus Jane at ten. Nine years later, when Mrs. Reed is dying, Jane returns to a house that was no more hospitable than before, calling Mrs. Reed “aunt” (p. 225) and “Dear Mrs. Reed” (p. 226). Even after Mrs. Reed confesses that she had prevented Jane from being adopted by a wealthy uncle who her to live with him, she fetches Mrs. Reed a glass of water and says (p. 227), “Love me, then, or hate me, as you will, … you have my full and free forgiveness: ask now for God’s and be at peace.” Jane has learned who she is and has learned how to act on the basis of that knowledge with integrity and compassion.

I once drank a lemon-lime soda, thinking it was straight lemonade. It tasted awful. When I realized that is was a soda, and not the juice drink, it tasted good. Our perceptions of an experience are often affected by the expectation we begin with. Readers who expect or demand an adventure with life-threatening drama, villains to be defeated, and conquests to be won by force of might and cleverness will likely be disappointed by Jane Eyre. The heroine’s circumstances are occasionally life-threatening, but they are more a matter of endurance than sharp conflict. “Adventure” is too outgoing a label for the episodes of the book, and even the cruelest of its characters does not merit the title “villain.” This book lacks the fast pace and the high energy to which current movies have accustomed us, and so it will lose the audience that demands that level of action. But its examination of character-building and of the interplay of personalities gives valuable insights into a wisely lived, Christian life, whether the reader is male or female. Its depth and breadth will broaden the receptive reader.

Three Aspects of Hamlet

The Senior English teacher at a local high school invited me to lecture on Hamlet. I am no expert, and I have no credentials in the area other than my admiration for the play and the time and thought applied to it. The notes for that lecture follow.

Please note that the references to lines of the play will vary according to the edition you use.

Three Aspects of Hamlet
Read more!

[Lecture, Nov. 9, 2006]

Introduction:

We will examine the concept of self, integrity and duplicity, and Shakespeare's use of language in the play. Notice Hamlet's remark in I.ii.76, "Seems madam! nay it is: I know not 'seems.' " We will use this passage to illustrate these three aspects of the play.

I. The Concept of Self in Hamlet

The play contains many dramatic elements, such as murder, treachery, incest, royal succession, etc., but is the play really about any of these? Prince Hamlet himself is the heart of the play. Who is he? What will he become? Norrie Epstein [The Friendly Shakespeare] claims that this is " a play about writing a play" (p. 328). That is, it allows us to watch Hamlet the prince write out the course of his own life.

When Hamlet considers himself, what is this "self" that he is? The first line of the play is a tense, "Who's there?" We will be asking and answering that question for the rest of the play.

A. Hamlet's concept of self is dominated by the mind, the inner man.
1. Notice Hamlet's contrast between outward "seeming" and inward reality in I.ii.76-86, where he contrasts his outer clothes and actions with "that within which passeth show."
2. Also, in II.ii.255-257 and 260-261, Hamlet comments to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern that the inner attitude shapes one's experience or evaluation of the outside world. While all of us experience this to some degree, Hamlet's wording is very strong.

B. Hamlet seeks truth and honesty in his relations with other selves. See II.ii.174-179, where Hamlet wishes that Polonius were at least as honest as a fishmonger.

C. Yet the self is essentially cut off from others.
1. Hamlet's distrust of those around him has led him to claim [II.ii.316-324] that "man delights not me." Two factors undermine the reliability of this claim: (1) He may not trust Ros. and Guil. enough to be completely honest with them; and (2) he may not be accurately assessing himself here. He is, after all, somewhat confused.
2. Still, as the play progresses, Hamlet cuts himself off from almost everyone except Horatio in his search for truth and his own role, and Horation is not the help that Hamlet needs.

D. The self, thus cut off, tends toward despair.
1. Hamlet is already melancholy and depressed at the beginning of the play because of the unseemly haste with which his mother has remarried after the death of Hamlet, Sr., and because of her astonishing (incestuous?) choice of Hamlet's uncle Claudius as her second husband. See, for example, I.II.129 ff.
2. Through the second act, and with no one to trust, Hamlet's depression deepens amid the court intrigue. See II.ii.219-221.

E. A New Kind of Hero?
1. Norrie Epstein comments (pp. 328 ff.), 'Hamlet is a play about writing a play, Hamlet's inner drama, in which he struggles to become a new kind of hero. ... [He] is torn between the furious medieval avenger, who "out-Herods Herod," and the thougtful modern hero, who doesn't go around killing stepfathers upon the advice of a ghost, who may or may not be trusted.'
2. We see the tension in his struggle clearly in II.ii.575-634. Hamlet is paralyzed for the moment, although the following scenes show him in a flurry of activity. He wants to do right, but he doesn't know what that is.

II. Integrity and Duplicity in Hamlet

A. Again, in I.ii.76-86, Hamlet portrays himself as honest, “I know not ‘seems.’” He dismisses “actions that a man might play” as insignificant compared to “that within which passeth show,” but it is not long before “play” instead of honesty characterizes Hamlet’s actions.

B. A play is a “seeming,” and Hamlet uses a play-within-a-play as a tool to arrive at truth. The actors who arrive at the castle will put on an old play that they know well, The Murder of Gonzago, and Hamlet will add some lines to make it fit recent events in Denmark. He hopes that the King’s outward reaction will display guilt or innocence of Hamlet, Sr.’s, murder.

C. Hamlet’s own life becomes another play-within-a-play. He wants to be the “new kind of hero” described above, acting on truth, but he uses duplicity to arrive there. He also fakes insanity, but sporadically. Which actions are from his sanity, which from his faked insanity? Is the faked insanity becoming the real thing? It’s hard to tell.

D. Almost everyone else in the play is playing a “seeming” part. Ophelia and Horatio are probably exceptions. Polonius advises Reynaldo on how to use deception to spy on Laertes.
Is Gertrude deceiving or self-deceived? That is, was she part of the plot, or is she just trying to insure her survival and Hamlet’s by ignoring inconvenient realities? Claudius is in a completely dishonest position, having stolen his brother’s life, throne, and wife. He sends Hamlet to England under the guise of diplomacy, but with the intent of having him killed there. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern – how honest are they?

III. Shakespeare’s Use of Language
Shakespeare skill with language shows up in several different ways.

A. In I.ii.68-75, Hamlet’s mother, Gertrude, advises him to stop mourning for his father. The time for mourning is over, and death is common. Why does this death “seem so particular with” Hamlet? Like many other adolescents, Hamlet focuses on the otherwise negligible word, “seems,” and makes a major fuss over this minor word, thus diverting the conversation from “why do you wear black” to the hurt he has inside.

But look at this conversation from Shakespeare’s point of view instead of Hamlet and Gertrude’s. It is as if Shakespeare were a master woodworker making an elaborate and ornate chest of drawers from fine wood, with ornate carving and complex design. He picks up an inconsequential splinter from the floor, and from that splinter he carves a perfect, complete miniature of the whole chest of drawers. This is what he has done with language. He has picked up an otherwise inconsequential word from Gertrude’s motherly question, and he turns it into a miniature version of the whole play. What is the difference between what “seems” in the play, and what is real? The prince spends the remainder of the play trying to find an answer to that question.

B. Building an image of words, then blasting it. In II.ii.316-324 Hamlet gives a beautifully worded description of what it means to be human, then says that he just isn’t interested in it.

C. Sudden, odd pictures. In II.ii.397 Hamlet describes his occasional insanity by saying, “I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.” His madness is as changeable as the wind, but why bring up the hawk and the handsaw, besides the alliteration?

D. In II.ii.471, ff., the extended description of the fall of Troy plays on words that could have two different meanings (e.g., “arms” as part of your body or as weapons) and combines them. He combines the idea of a warrior and his coat of arms by saying that Pyrrhus becomes coated in his own heraldry, changing from “sable” (i.e., black from the ash of burning Troy) to “gules” (i.e., red from the blood of his victims). The clarity of the picture, the overlay of different senses of language, and the choice of power words give Shakespeare’s language its power.

E. Comparison of Shakespeare to a distillery. The result is more potent and more pure. Shakespeare makes every word bear its own weight and support the intent of the whole composition.

F. Pages 228 ff. in The Friendly Shakespeare give examples of phrases that were first written by Shakespeare that have passed into everyday speech in English.
i. Brevity is the soul of wit.
ii. Neither rhyme nor reason.
iii. The primrose path
iv. Eaten me out of house and home
v. Till the crack of doom
vi. Dead as a doornail
vii. An eye-sore
viii. Wear my heart on my sleeve
ix. Budge an inch
x. Knock, knock! Who’s there.

A Christmas Meditation on John 15

Jesus not only became one of us - he has also united himself to his people so that his life and nature become ours. He gives himself to us as our abiding place, and there we give ourselves to him and to each other, in love. We have our being and our iedentity in him. He gives us life and causes us to bear fruit. Our abiding is thus at once active and restful.

In him we also are targets of trouble. The Incarnation plunged Jesus into our troubles, and now we share his. The world hates and resists him, and therefore us. And all of this is at times painful and troublesome. But it is all in the hands of a loving Father, our vine-dresser, who only allows such adversity as will cause us to bear more fruit.

Look around you. The people around you also are targets of trouble. Some are in great pain, even if they do not show it. Love them. Be gentle and thoughtful. Listen very carefully with your ears and heart. Let them see their Savior's love in you.

Here we see Christ, who for us and for our salvation became flesh, that we might be joined everlastingly to him, our Vine. Thus we partake of his nature, which is love, and bear its fruit, which is also love. Thus we are greatly beloved of God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Trollope Still Speaks!

Anthony Trollope's novel The Warden gives the following description of a fictitious 19th century English newspaper called the Jupiter, describing its headquarters as "Mount Olympus" :

Who has not heard of Mount Olympus—that high abode of all the powers of type, that favoured seat of the great goddess Pica, that wondrous habitation of gods and devils, from whence, with ceaseless hum of steam and never-ending flow of Castalian ink, issue forth fifty thousand nightly edicts for the governance of a subject nation?

Velvet and gilding do not make a throne, nor gold and jewels a sceptre. It is a throne because the most exalted one sits there—and a sceptre because the most mighty one wields it. So it is with Mount Olympus. Should a stranger make his way thither at dull noonday, or during the sleepy hours of the silent afternoon, he would find no acknowledged temple of power and beauty, no fitting fane for the great Thunderer, no proud façades and pillared roofs to support the dignity of this greatest of earthly potentates. To the outward and uninitiated eye, Mount Olympus is a somewhat humble spot—undistinguished, unadorned,—nay, almost mean. It stands alone, as it were, in a mighty city, close to the densest throng of men, but partaking neither of the noise nor the crowd; a small secluded, dreary spot, tenanted, one would say, by quiet unambitious people at the easiest rents. “Is this Mount Olympus?” asks the unbelieving stranger. “Is it from these small, dark, dingy buildings that those infallible laws proceed which cabinets are called upon to obey; by which bishops are to be guided, lords and commons controlled,—judges instructed in law, generals in strategy, admirals in naval tactics, and orange-women in the management of their barrows?” “Yes, my friend—from these walls. From here issue the only known infallible bulls for the guidance of British souls and bodies. This little court is the Vatican of England. Here reigns a pope, self-nominated, self-consecrated—ay, and much stranger too—self-believing!—a pope whom, if you cannot obey him, I would advise you to disobey as silently as possible; a pope hitherto afraid of no Luther; a pope who manages his own inquisition, who punishes unbelievers as no most skilful inquisitor of Spain ever dreamt of doing—one who can excommunicate thoroughly, fearfully, radically; put you beyond the pale of men’s charity; make you odious to your dearest friends, and turn you into a monster to be pointed at by the finger!”

Sound familiar? See the full text of the chapter here. Trollope extends his mock-awe of the Jupiter for several paragraphs.

Book Reviews: "Derrida" and "Leven Thumps"

If one must be awake at this time of night, then a hot drink without caffeine offers both the comfort of sipping and the possibility of slumber to follow. In this case, the beverage is Celestial Seasonings' "Mandarin Orange" - not that you are really interested in my liquid intake, but here it is for the record. Help yourself, the water is still hot.

Introducing Derrida (Collins and Mayblin, Totem Books, 1996) looked like a comprehensible introduction to this philosopher (or anti-philosopher, take your pick), so I picked it up used for $4. It's part of a series by Totem Books, heavily illustrated, and not quite 200 pages. If you can imagine a comic book that focuses on philosophic disputes, you have a pretty good idea of the approach this book takes. Other topics in the Introducing series include Kant, Wagner, Quantum Theory, and Astrology.

Derrida is associated with the development of post-modernism and especially "deconstruction" in literary criticism and philosophy. The biggest idea behind all of it seemed to be that writing can always be misunderstood, be it ever so carefully couched in clear diction and specific context. Surely that is a grotesque oversimplification that would make Derrida cringe, but that was the impression it made on me. But then, it was only writing, and I may have misunderstood it.

Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo (Obert Skye, Simon & Schuster, 2005) was much lighter, but it had better pictures and a faster story line. Skye probably won't make the impression on modern literature and criticism that Derrida has, but he's more accessible. It's not a great book. Although the author occasionally uses some very funny wit ("And the flags that only days before had hung majestically on the top of local flagpoles no longer looked majestic, they looked like multicolored pieces of cloth that had climbed up and tragically hung themselves."), even there the wording could be tighter. The disasters are a bit overdone, the bad guys are often two-dimensional, and I'm not sure if the repeated expressions of confidence in "fate" to provide what the good guys need are merely vacuous or intended to be funny. I gave the author the benefit of the doubt and took it for humor. I still didn't see quite enough development of the central characters to make them deeply likeable, but they're nice enough kids and they have potential.

T&T

Product Review

Put down the glass of whatever you're drinking, unless you want it spewing out your nose, when you read this review of Tuscan Milk.

H/T Sharp As A Marble

T&T

Religious Irony

A friend of mine who pastors a church suggested the following as a gift to first-time visitors:


This illustrates the irony in which his mind usually lurks. Yes, he affirms that God created the world (and specifically that creation is in Christ, through him, and for him), but the current debate between creationists and evolutionists can use a bit of humor and self-deprecation.

Movie review: "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels"

"English Breakfast" may sound inappropriate for late evening, but I opened a fresh tin of loose tea this morning, so I'm celebrating it. You can have some toast with cream cheese and fresh tomato slices with it.

The bathroom walls still need a bit of patching. The first application of joint compound has helped smooth some of the rough spots, but there is plenty of work to be done.

I just finished watching "Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels" (1998) (rated R), a crime comedy of errors, written and directed by Guy Ritchie. Good entertainment value, good balance of tension and comedy, very tightly knit. It has a very similar style to "Snatch" (2000), also w&d by GR, and some of the cast is in both movies, notably Jason Statham, Alan Ford, and Vinnie Jones. No Brad Pitt in this one. Both have good entertainment value, balance of tension and comedy, and a story so tightly knit it could be a bullet-proof jumper.

So, does the tea have too much caffeine for this time of night?

Tire-d

Sorry I'm late. Let me go put the water on.

There, that shouldn't take too long. Today's brew is Celestial Seasonings' (R) "Perfectly Pear" white tea. Yeah, yeah, "If it's white, how can you see it?" Once it's ready, you can tell for yourself.

On my way to the river yesterday, I noticed that a tire on my car was almost flat. It must have been flatter than I thought, because driving it about 6 blocks to a service station to inflate it chewed up the inside of the tire so much that it couldn't be repaired. The new one took about 2 hours to put on and it cost about $ 120.

The paint on my bathroom walls is mostly in the same bad shape that the ceiling paint was. About 70% came off easily, and the other 30% sticks like glue. I think the best approach will be to leave the paint that wants to stick, and use joint compound or spackling to smooth out the edges.

The new shut-off valve to the toilet also has a slow leak at the join to the cast iron intake line. I forgot to brush the rust off the old pipe threads before putting the Teflon tape and new valve on.

Just a minute, the kettle is whistling.

Ahh, that's better. As you can see, the "white" tea has a very pale amber tint. According to "About.com", it's called white because "the leaves are picked and harvested before the leaves open fully, when the buds are still covered by fine white hair." Also, "White tea is similar to green tea, in that it's undergone very little processing and no fermentation. But there is a noticable difference in taste. Most green teas have a distinctive 'grassy' taste to them, but white tea does not. The flavour is described as light, and sweet." The light and sweet flavor go well with the vanilla and pear flavorings that Celestial Seasonings (R) has added to their mixture.

The Triscuits (TM) are gone, so we will have to make do with stale saltines and soft cheese.

T&T

Boat Repair and House Repair

Come in, the water has just boiled, and this afternoon's tea is Ceylon Black with a bit of mango flavoring. I also have Tricuits(TM) and Laughing Cow(TM) cheese, so help yourself.

The washer is running because I got wet in the river today, helping a friend get his sailboat onto a trailer. The drive train on his outboard had seized up, so he sailed it to the boat ramp, where a mechanic removed the old drive train and installed a new one. The afternoon was pleasant enough - the temperature hovering in the mid-90s, but low enough humidity that a breeze and shade kept us cool.

You will notice that most of the floor has been removed from the bathroom. Some friends helped me tear out the old tongue-and-groove flooring, because it had some rotten spots in it. The subflooring is good, and some friends will help me put down a new floor later this week. That will involve laying down plywood, backer board, and ceramic tile. Have you ever tried to match 50 year old almond ceramic tile with what's available today? On my budget there isn't much choice but to buy off-the-shelf and hope no one notices the shade difference. I'm putting down a black border along the edges, so maybe that will help.

The paint was peeling off the ceiling, and once I started scraping, it came off in sheets. Some of the wall paint is like that, too. The local home supplies store sold me something called "Gripper" that goes on as a primer, and some paint to go over that.

I may come up with a theological question to ponder later, but I'm sapped just now. What's up with you?

T&T

Tea as a conserver of time

Glad you stopped by. Neither of us has as much time as we would like, but a casual cuppa can do wonders for the day. Oolong or Earl Grey? Good, I'm in the mood for Oolong, too. Milk or lemon? Sugar? Here you are. The only biscuits I have are store-bought chocolate chip cookies, but they're okay.

Now: tell me what's been on your mind lately. We have time - and tea.

T&T