Apparently, every year at King William's College on the Isle of Man, students sit a general knowledge test. For the delectation of trivia-lovers (nay, ophiophiles) out there - but mostly for me and my dad, here is the 2007 quiz.
We've discovered - through trial and error (and checking our answers...) that there is a method to this madness, a pattern in the chaos: the answers are all themed in the sections. The first two sections are titled, thereafter, you have to find the link yourself ... for example, section 11 is 'hearts'.
In the first 20 questions Nas and I answered 2 correctly.
When general knowledge creates a general headache ... bang here for relief.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
rousing seneca
This + this = ?
I don't understand why, in times of anxiety and national 'stress' (can a nation be stressed out?), the police and judicial powers are allowed - nay, encouraged - to be LESS rigorous in their own internal methods - LESS accountable and transparent. How exactly is that supposed to make me, concerned citizen, feel MORE secure?
Why are we still living in a Foucauldian world of knowledge economy where we, the public, find ourselves in permanent debt?
I hate rhetorical questions.
I don't understand why, in times of anxiety and national 'stress' (can a nation be stressed out?), the police and judicial powers are allowed - nay, encouraged - to be LESS rigorous in their own internal methods - LESS accountable and transparent. How exactly is that supposed to make me, concerned citizen, feel MORE secure?
Why are we still living in a Foucauldian world of knowledge economy where we, the public, find ourselves in permanent debt?
I hate rhetorical questions.
Monday, January 28, 2008
wrotten language
I'm all for destabilizing meaning in language - upsetting the assumptions that underwrite our most treasured (and hence, buried) cultural narratives - hey, most of my research is in service of that project. I thoroughly enjoy watching such attempts in practice as well - kind of an artistic culture-jamming at the foundations of 'culture': language. But I admit that I do believe that intentionality has to be part of it: ignorant errors or profit-scrounging don't count.
Vegetables that are 'trans-fat free!'; low-fat fried chicken; 'lite' sugar ...
And today, on Facebook, ad advert for 'accurate and ethical [psychic] readings'.
What exactly makes them 'ethical'?
Vegetables that are 'trans-fat free!'; low-fat fried chicken; 'lite' sugar ...
And today, on Facebook, ad advert for 'accurate and ethical [psychic] readings'.
What exactly makes them 'ethical'?
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
no movie for the masses?
I saw the new Coen Bros. film last night with some friends at the local rep cinema - I had my doubts about seeing it, stemming mostly from my own squeamishness - I just don't do realistic violence well. It's not the blood and guts of it all - I can sit happily through candy-violence like Tarantino's questionably 'good' films - it's the representation of cruelty. In Se7en for example, the depiction that kept me awake for weeks (literally, ask Nas) was Sloth - I was horrified to the point of insomnia that someone, regardless of how deranged, could do that to someone - something - else. In passing, I hate Se7en so I'm not going to provide a link to it.
Hey, I'm a softie from way back. I've learned to live with it. RSPCA and NSPCC ads on the telly make me cry.
But this film didn't - and I believe it purposely set out to minimise direct emotional impact. I disagree entirely with this review - the suggestion that this film - or any film - is 'not for the masses' is incredibly insulting. What masses? Me? That guy over there? What the reviewer implicitly means is people who 'won't get it' - in other words, people who are not them... People who lack the singular mental capacities and experiences that allow the critic to 'get' the 'real meaning' of a film, book, piece of art ... I thought this film was remarkable in its applicability. No one is spectacularly good in this film, but then, no one is spectacularly bad. Yes, I include the enigmatic Anton Chigurh - played to a growly, menacing perfection by Javier Bardem. I'm not going to offer any totalising reads of this film cause I don't have one. I don't think that it is depressing in that nihilistic cop-out that is so often applied to McCarthy and his depictions of the collapse of 'codes of honour'. I do think that the tension in the film is masterfully handled at every level. The use of mirrors and doubling extends through every layer of the narrative - and the usual Coen Bros. densely layered homages to their own celluloid history and to American pop-culture broadly thrilled my inner-nerd (not so inner, you say?). I particularly liked the shot of Tommy Lee Jones busting through that motel door, fully expecting to meet Chigurh and his own end, and facing only his shadow, doubled in the light from the parking lot, recalling the gunslinnger pose of so many westerns and Andy Warhol's iconic Elvis-as-cowboy print.
Mostly, I loved the use of landscape and - damn - I love those accents.
I grew up with the stereotypical northern (Canadian) disparagement for (American) southern accents. They belonged to country music and questionable morals: gunslingers, cowboys, and a wildness that didn't belong (or no longer belonged) in metropolitan, progressive, liberal (central - I now know) Canada. It signified conservatism and the 'establishment', ignorance, and simplicity in men; promiscuity, lax morals, and dullness in women. Generally, in mainstream television and popular representation when I was growing up, the comic relief and the really bad baddies had those southern twangs. The 'good' example might be Uncle Remus who I only met in Disney's Song of the South - or, more recently, Firefly, in which the old South-based planets are more human, familiar, and sympathetic than the industrial-techno-complex 'modern' planets. And like most stereotypes, mine was developed in complete isolation from any real-life example. In the film, however, they are a perfect counterpoint to the acrid harshness of the landscape; even Chigurh's voice is like molasses, dark and dripping, slow and certain. I suppose that that is just as stereotypical. And really, I just love the sound the way some people like a northern English accent, or southern Scottish, or northern Irish, or German, or Quebecois, or Sydney ... or Cape Town, or Cairo ... you get the picture.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
local wide web
what follows is the review of my local neighbourhood, entirely cut and pasted from the interesting and somewhat scary website: http://www.upmystreet.com/
you can try it with your postcode (in the UK, at least - i didn't try any Canadian/international ones). i especially like the last line.
Neighbourhoods fitting this profile are mainly found in Inner London and Outer Metropolitan areas such as Croydon, Harrow, Southall and Ilford. Here is an overview of the likely preferences and features of your neighbourhood:
Family income Medium
Interest in current affairs High
Housing - with mortgage Medium
Educated - to degree High
Couples with children Medium
Have satellite TV Low
These are metropolitan white-collar populations with high concentrations of ethnic minorities.
People are generally younger, typically under 40. There are some single parents, but most households comprise single people renting and sharing flats or terraced houses. The accommodation is small, often only one or two bedrooms. Around 35% of the population is black or Asian. Both minorities occur in broadly equal proportion across this type.
The level of education is above average, and jobs tend to be managerial or clerical. Levels of students, people working in the Public Sector and unemployment are all somewhat above the national average.
These people do not need cars given their urban lifestyles. Instead, they will get about by walking and using public transport. They tend to go to coffee shops, and lunch in pubs or restaurants on a regular basis. They may also spend time in an art gallery or going to the theatre.
Relatively high numbers have cable TV and DVD players. Reading, and sometimes religious activity also play a part in their leisure activities. They have some interest in current affairs and might be readers of The Guardian, Observer or Independent.
Increasingly they will use new technology such as telephone, PC and mobile phone for banking purposes. Many would like to upgrade to gold and platinum credit cards. More realistically, others are planning to pay off their debt.
This is a description of the type of neighbourhood to which this postcode has been matched, it is not a description of the postcode. The overview describes characteristics frequently found in these neighbourhoods. Since most postcodes include a mix of people we don’t expect everyone there will fit the description perfectly. Learn more.
you can try it with your postcode (in the UK, at least - i didn't try any Canadian/international ones). i especially like the last line.
* * *
Often, many of the people who live in this sort of postcode will be singles and sharers living in multi-ethnic areas. These are known as type 21 in the ACORN classification and 1.68% of the UK’s population live in this type.
Neighbourhoods fitting this profile are mainly found in Inner London and Outer Metropolitan areas such as Croydon, Harrow, Southall and Ilford. Here is an overview of the likely preferences and features of your neighbourhood:
Family income Medium
Interest in current affairs High
Housing - with mortgage Medium
Educated - to degree High
Couples with children Medium
Have satellite TV Low
These are metropolitan white-collar populations with high concentrations of ethnic minorities.
People are generally younger, typically under 40. There are some single parents, but most households comprise single people renting and sharing flats or terraced houses. The accommodation is small, often only one or two bedrooms. Around 35% of the population is black or Asian. Both minorities occur in broadly equal proportion across this type.
The level of education is above average, and jobs tend to be managerial or clerical. Levels of students, people working in the Public Sector and unemployment are all somewhat above the national average.
These people do not need cars given their urban lifestyles. Instead, they will get about by walking and using public transport. They tend to go to coffee shops, and lunch in pubs or restaurants on a regular basis. They may also spend time in an art gallery or going to the theatre.
Relatively high numbers have cable TV and DVD players. Reading, and sometimes religious activity also play a part in their leisure activities. They have some interest in current affairs and might be readers of The Guardian, Observer or Independent.
Increasingly they will use new technology such as telephone, PC and mobile phone for banking purposes. Many would like to upgrade to gold and platinum credit cards. More realistically, others are planning to pay off their debt.
This is a description of the type of neighbourhood to which this postcode has been matched, it is not a description of the postcode. The overview describes characteristics frequently found in these neighbourhoods. Since most postcodes include a mix of people we don’t expect everyone there will fit the description perfectly. Learn more.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
leaving Bro-town and other departures
This is my last weekend library shift. I'm really going to miss working here; of course, I will keep working here in other capacities for as long as I can cling (legitimately or otherwise) to a library card - it's just too good a library to give up ... But I will miss the backroom privileges ... and the quiet weekend mornings ... and the afternoon sun slanting into the reading room:
The issues and returns/enquiries office that I work in is all rich wood and bespoke shelving and I love it. Especially compared to the concrete and carpet of the Edward Boyle Library - which, I'm sure has its own charm to which I am not partial. In the sunshine, the reading room is glorious: sounds are sharp on the wood floors and desk but the air is rich and dusty. It is exactly the kind of space I thought I would have as a post-graduate student. And I'll miss my weekend team cause it was all so very casual and lovely. And I'll miss all the chocolate biscuits ...
In other news, I've done my first online shopping - for clothes (I'm an old hand at online bookshops!). I'm very excited. My friend recommended a UK company, Howies, which was having a sale, after I was complaining about the lack of options in the city centre: H&M (yuk and the shop is a tip), M&S (disappointing in that department store way), Primark (no, nay, never), Principles (Hah!) ... There is a Arkadash shop in Headingley, which is fantastic. I'm trying out another resolution - buying fewer clothes but of better quality (and therefore, I appreciate, more expensive). I was inspired by a woman I heard on CBC radio while I was home over Christmas who resolved for a year to buy nothing 'made in China'. I have problems with this seemingly arbitrary restriction, it is true that in Canada (or at least the Golden Horseshoe bit of it) it is increasingly difficult to find anything NOT 'made in China'.
It's strange because as much as I object to the gung-ho push to globalisation, particularly in the soft-sell, sentimental rhetoric that cloaks the deepest, darkest, most horrifying economic bottom line, I also would not advocate isolationism in any sense really. It's a thinker. But that being said I do find it easier simply to stick to clothing, food, and other products that I can at least stand behind in terms of my own ethics - which as I pointed out in an earlier blog are alright really.
The issues and returns/enquiries office that I work in is all rich wood and bespoke shelving and I love it. Especially compared to the concrete and carpet of the Edward Boyle Library - which, I'm sure has its own charm to which I am not partial. In the sunshine, the reading room is glorious: sounds are sharp on the wood floors and desk but the air is rich and dusty. It is exactly the kind of space I thought I would have as a post-graduate student. And I'll miss my weekend team cause it was all so very casual and lovely. And I'll miss all the chocolate biscuits ...
In other news, I've done my first online shopping - for clothes (I'm an old hand at online bookshops!). I'm very excited. My friend recommended a UK company, Howies, which was having a sale, after I was complaining about the lack of options in the city centre: H&M (yuk and the shop is a tip), M&S (disappointing in that department store way), Primark (no, nay, never), Principles (Hah!) ... There is a Arkadash shop in Headingley, which is fantastic. I'm trying out another resolution - buying fewer clothes but of better quality (and therefore, I appreciate, more expensive). I was inspired by a woman I heard on CBC radio while I was home over Christmas who resolved for a year to buy nothing 'made in China'. I have problems with this seemingly arbitrary restriction, it is true that in Canada (or at least the Golden Horseshoe bit of it) it is increasingly difficult to find anything NOT 'made in China'.
It's strange because as much as I object to the gung-ho push to globalisation, particularly in the soft-sell, sentimental rhetoric that cloaks the deepest, darkest, most horrifying economic bottom line, I also would not advocate isolationism in any sense really. It's a thinker. But that being said I do find it easier simply to stick to clothing, food, and other products that I can at least stand behind in terms of my own ethics - which as I pointed out in an earlier blog are alright really.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
the law is an ass
In December 2006, 5 women were killed around Ipswich in the run-up to Christmas. The case is just coming to trial now - and being reported on now, in (you guessed it!) The Guardian. So I read with interest the highlights from the prosecution's opening address (which will continue for another couple days). Then this:
'The prosecutor, [Peter Wright QC] who told the court that he would probably spend today and part of tomorrow outlining the case against Wright, went on to say that all five victims had resorted to prostitution to fund their drug addiction.
He added: "In each of their cases, this decision was ultimately to prove fatal."'
Um... what decision? Their decision to become drug addicts? (I thought that 'no one said "I want to be a junkie when I grow up"'?) The decision to turn to prostitution to fund their habits? While possibly showing poor judgement in both cases, neither of those decisions was 'fatal'. Does Peter Wright QC actually mean to suggest that these women somehow had a hand in 'deciding' their deaths? Last time I checked, murder kinda took that decision out of the victims' hands ...
So I'm confused. I think it is enough that 5 women had to die in order for one death to be taken seriously (how many in Vancouver again?). I think these remarks are callous and reveal a continued unwillingness to consider these women as victims of a crime; they insist implicitly that these women were inviting such atrocities through their lifestyles. None of these women decided to die. To suggest anything otherwise is disgusting.
'The prosecutor, [Peter Wright QC] who told the court that he would probably spend today and part of tomorrow outlining the case against Wright, went on to say that all five victims had resorted to prostitution to fund their drug addiction.
He added: "In each of their cases, this decision was ultimately to prove fatal."'
Um... what decision? Their decision to become drug addicts? (I thought that 'no one said "I want to be a junkie when I grow up"'?) The decision to turn to prostitution to fund their habits? While possibly showing poor judgement in both cases, neither of those decisions was 'fatal'. Does Peter Wright QC actually mean to suggest that these women somehow had a hand in 'deciding' their deaths? Last time I checked, murder kinda took that decision out of the victims' hands ...
So I'm confused. I think it is enough that 5 women had to die in order for one death to be taken seriously (how many in Vancouver again?). I think these remarks are callous and reveal a continued unwillingness to consider these women as victims of a crime; they insist implicitly that these women were inviting such atrocities through their lifestyles. None of these women decided to die. To suggest anything otherwise is disgusting.
India
I still don't want an ID card and I continue to ponder my responsibility as a citizen of this big, wide world. But I have a new thing: India. Nas and I have decided to go to India - not now, or even soon, maybe next September? maybe if we don't find permanent posts right away, we could move there...?? Or at least, move somewhere new and slightly warmer than Britain. Without ID cards.
So yes, India. I have never been particularly interested in the sub-continent - mostly because most of the people I've met who professed a deep and spiritual connection to India were annoying, inarticulate, and smelt slightly of patchouli and sandalwood. I know people, on the other hand, who really do love India and maybe being around them has infected me - or overcome my unfair bias against a country based on fairly limited (and limiting) perspectives. Or I could be completely honest and reveal my own superficiality and admit that it was The Darjeeling Limited ... India was the most sympathetic and stunning character in the film. And yes, part of me really does want to go to that India - you know, the clean, pressed, incredibly polite, but thoroughly modern and sexy India; a fictional construct so appealing that I would watch the film over and over again just to get to know her better. Mostly cause that India is risk-free: no poverty, no strays, no questions - just a pret-a-porter spiritual awakening.
I've never been anywhere that really confronted me with difference - and I cry at NSPCC and RSPCA ads on the telly (especially the latest RSPCA one). I don't want to discover myself - or India - I just want to see it for myself. And everything seems to be pointing that way for me lately - like mentionitis with a whole country... Maybe we'll love it and never come back! Maybe I'll hate it and be a horrible combination of the worst traits of a Canadian and British tourist.
So if anyone has advice, please send it along. Or contacts. Or rupees.
So yes, India. I have never been particularly interested in the sub-continent - mostly because most of the people I've met who professed a deep and spiritual connection to India were annoying, inarticulate, and smelt slightly of patchouli and sandalwood. I know people, on the other hand, who really do love India and maybe being around them has infected me - or overcome my unfair bias against a country based on fairly limited (and limiting) perspectives. Or I could be completely honest and reveal my own superficiality and admit that it was The Darjeeling Limited ... India was the most sympathetic and stunning character in the film. And yes, part of me really does want to go to that India - you know, the clean, pressed, incredibly polite, but thoroughly modern and sexy India; a fictional construct so appealing that I would watch the film over and over again just to get to know her better. Mostly cause that India is risk-free: no poverty, no strays, no questions - just a pret-a-porter spiritual awakening.
I've never been anywhere that really confronted me with difference - and I cry at NSPCC and RSPCA ads on the telly (especially the latest RSPCA one). I don't want to discover myself - or India - I just want to see it for myself. And everything seems to be pointing that way for me lately - like mentionitis with a whole country... Maybe we'll love it and never come back! Maybe I'll hate it and be a horrible combination of the worst traits of a Canadian and British tourist.
So if anyone has advice, please send it along. Or contacts. Or rupees.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
one of these things doesn't belong
I realise that this blog is becoming a running reaction to The Guardian - it being the news source I read most frequently (or at all...). I will find some other source of commentary I promise. But for now, this scared me cause I think, for the first time in my life, I am the object of an article like this.
I am a foreign national.
And I don't want an ID card.
I wouldn't want a Canadian ID card if I lived in Canada and the scheme was reversed (giving ID cards to citizens). I like how they have turned it around here though - suddenly not as much reaction when the target of this nationalistic, jingoistic branding is resident aliens - or 'foreign nationals' since we're being so PC about it.
I've never felt like I didn't belong here. And I've never before felt like I might not want to.
I am a foreign national.
And I don't want an ID card.
I wouldn't want a Canadian ID card if I lived in Canada and the scheme was reversed (giving ID cards to citizens). I like how they have turned it around here though - suddenly not as much reaction when the target of this nationalistic, jingoistic branding is resident aliens - or 'foreign nationals' since we're being so PC about it.
I've never felt like I didn't belong here. And I've never before felt like I might not want to.
Monday, January 14, 2008
the principles of the thing
A friend of mine says that people always think 3 things about themselves: 1) they are a good friend, 2) they have a good sense of humour, and 3) they are good in bed. Not spectacular in any category but I think most people would have to be really stripped down - psychologically - before they give up on these things. Of course, that is more pithy saying than actual fact - I've never conducted any kind of poll to back this up. But it rings true. To me.
Which is the point of the moment: the other thing that most people would generally 'admit' to is thinking themselves generally all right really. Again, not in a spectacular way - but at heart, all right really. That is, the very best of intentions + the usual time/money/energy equation which leads to can't-be-bothered-at-this-moment but will certainly do something about it on the weekend... Hey, I'm not about to claim that I'm any different. In my heart I am the most ethical of ethical consumers - my home a veritable shrine to sustainable living principles. In reality, I don't make the time nor save the money - body and mind at rest certainly resent the initial push to move in any direction.
It's not that I think that there is a moral absolute that I'm failing miserably to meet. It's just that morality and ethics are impossibly difficult to tease out. Can I be less accountable because my bank balance determines my purchases? Does that excuse buying Fairy washing-up liquid (every bubble a dead fish or destroyed habitat) for 99p rather than the extra 90p for Ecover? What about less directly economic concerns? or at least ones that don't affect me directly? What about the more difficult issue of political and ideological support? And just how far down the rabbit-hole can I go? The question of fair-trade, especially around clothing and household products - formaldehyde in my furniture? - is something I haven't even broached. How long can I claim that it's pointless for me to consider it, as we don't own our house?
In short, can I be a little bit good? And can't I lie-in just a little bit longer?
Which is the point of the moment: the other thing that most people would generally 'admit' to is thinking themselves generally all right really. Again, not in a spectacular way - but at heart, all right really. That is, the very best of intentions + the usual time/money/energy equation which leads to can't-be-bothered-at-this-moment but will certainly do something about it on the weekend... Hey, I'm not about to claim that I'm any different. In my heart I am the most ethical of ethical consumers - my home a veritable shrine to sustainable living principles. In reality, I don't make the time nor save the money - body and mind at rest certainly resent the initial push to move in any direction.
It's not that I think that there is a moral absolute that I'm failing miserably to meet. It's just that morality and ethics are impossibly difficult to tease out. Can I be less accountable because my bank balance determines my purchases? Does that excuse buying Fairy washing-up liquid (every bubble a dead fish or destroyed habitat) for 99p rather than the extra 90p for Ecover? What about less directly economic concerns? or at least ones that don't affect me directly? What about the more difficult issue of political and ideological support? And just how far down the rabbit-hole can I go? The question of fair-trade, especially around clothing and household products - formaldehyde in my furniture? - is something I haven't even broached. How long can I claim that it's pointless for me to consider it, as we don't own our house?
In short, can I be a little bit good? And can't I lie-in just a little bit longer?
Thursday, January 10, 2008
beyond means
We went to the champagne bar in town at the posh new Electric Press building in Millenium Square last night. It is really really nice. I could get used to that being my regular watering-hole ... someday! As the end of an otherwise kinda crappy day, it was perfect. Actually, it wasn't a crappy day - I just didn't get any sleep the night before as I had an existential breakdown due to exhaustion and decided that there was no point in being worried about anything because the vast majority of people are assholes. Why should I care? I know, really deep and profound revelations do happen at the oddest hours ... I should add another resolution:
* read positive news
The point being, I was exhausted and had to spend the afternoon at an induction meeting for the university I'm working for this semester. I'd been fixated on these woolen trousers I found in the city before Christmas and planned to buy them yesterday afternoon. They weren't there and trying on other trousers made me doubt the advisability of me being publically visible at all. I know - again, I demonstrate such poise ... I have my moments. Had I been alone, I would have crept home and gotten over it eventually. Luckily, Nasser had come with me and rather than laughing at my sudden reversion to the kind of person that I detest, talked sternly to me until returned to sense. Then we returned the world to our own norms by having some sushi.
The reason we were at the champagne bar - Epernay - and living so above our current means was to meet my new work colleagues, one of which is a very dear friend. They are lovely and I am reassured (but still nervous) about being a real university instructor out there in the wide, wierd, and wonderful world of academia. Nasser came with me - he more than deserved a expertly poured martini having finished and submitted his PhD thesis over Christmas - for which I was glad. Silly cocktails taste better in his company (and yes, if you are curious, stars sparkle more brightly and I am wittier and more brilliantly beautiful when he is there too).
Such senitmental admissions remind me of a song Nas played for me the other day - 'Every Day is Christmas'. It's online and I'm too lazy to link it here. It is THE sweetest song I've ever heard - completely without ennui, malaise, or melancholy. I love it.
* read positive news
The point being, I was exhausted and had to spend the afternoon at an induction meeting for the university I'm working for this semester. I'd been fixated on these woolen trousers I found in the city before Christmas and planned to buy them yesterday afternoon. They weren't there and trying on other trousers made me doubt the advisability of me being publically visible at all. I know - again, I demonstrate such poise ... I have my moments. Had I been alone, I would have crept home and gotten over it eventually. Luckily, Nasser had come with me and rather than laughing at my sudden reversion to the kind of person that I detest, talked sternly to me until returned to sense. Then we returned the world to our own norms by having some sushi.
The reason we were at the champagne bar - Epernay - and living so above our current means was to meet my new work colleagues, one of which is a very dear friend. They are lovely and I am reassured (but still nervous) about being a real university instructor out there in the wide, wierd, and wonderful world of academia. Nasser came with me - he more than deserved a expertly poured martini having finished and submitted his PhD thesis over Christmas - for which I was glad. Silly cocktails taste better in his company (and yes, if you are curious, stars sparkle more brightly and I am wittier and more brilliantly beautiful when he is there too).
Such senitmental admissions remind me of a song Nas played for me the other day - 'Every Day is Christmas'. It's online and I'm too lazy to link it here. It is THE sweetest song I've ever heard - completely without ennui, malaise, or melancholy. I love it.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
2008
This will be a great year. I am sure of it. I'll admit that my resolution - not to allow myself to become overly anxious on a daily basis - has already been tested: by the stressed-out students at the library, by the train on the way home from BSECS in Oxford, by going to BSECS in Oxford rather than just coming home after Christmas, by new jobs and old jobs, by the fact that bills in any form make me break out in a cold sweat even before opening the envelope... But in spite of all that, it's going to be a great year.
Cause it was a wonderful Christmas - admittedly, it was a strange Christmas. I haven't been home with just my parents and sister since I was about three years old. The house was so quiet. But it was lovely nonetheless - dad and I found the most perfect tree, which exactly fit the traditional tree-corner (well, as traditional as possible as it was only the third Christmas in my parents' new house!); mum still made the same amount of Christmas food - which meant loads of extras for us! And we got to plan my sister's wedding - well, I got to offer jewels of wisdom that may or may not make it to the final cut... And the completely girly joy of shopping for dresses...! Nothing like a summer wedding to keep me running this year (August = bare arms...).
Classes start in two weeks.
Other resolutions:
* publish thesis as articles
* become model of multitasking, organized academic not unlike supervisor
* become stunning example of fitness and poise
* listen more/talk less
* read A LOT
Realistic. Definitely.
I also didn't get to see nearly enough of people in Canada - I never do really. My big huge impossible resolution will be to sort out how to make Canada and England closer together - geographically I mean. OR rob bank - buy island - forcibly move all friends and family to island where we live happily ever after. Possibly change first part to 'win lottery'? I should start playing...
Cause it was a wonderful Christmas - admittedly, it was a strange Christmas. I haven't been home with just my parents and sister since I was about three years old. The house was so quiet. But it was lovely nonetheless - dad and I found the most perfect tree, which exactly fit the traditional tree-corner (well, as traditional as possible as it was only the third Christmas in my parents' new house!); mum still made the same amount of Christmas food - which meant loads of extras for us! And we got to plan my sister's wedding - well, I got to offer jewels of wisdom that may or may not make it to the final cut... And the completely girly joy of shopping for dresses...! Nothing like a summer wedding to keep me running this year (August = bare arms...).
Classes start in two weeks.
Other resolutions:
* publish thesis as articles
* become model of multitasking, organized academic not unlike supervisor
* become stunning example of fitness and poise
* listen more/talk less
* read A LOT
Realistic. Definitely.
I also didn't get to see nearly enough of people in Canada - I never do really. My big huge impossible resolution will be to sort out how to make Canada and England closer together - geographically I mean. OR rob bank - buy island - forcibly move all friends and family to island where we live happily ever after. Possibly change first part to 'win lottery'? I should start playing...
Friday, December 14, 2007
School's out
It's the last Friday of the regular term and the library is very quiet. The staffroom is full of mince pies, christmas cake (with cheese, which my friend assures me is a delicious northern tradition!), and home-baked cakes and biscuits (fundraising drive). It's less full than it was as my break was last hour...luckily I found a fiver in my wallet and donated to fill my tum.
Yesterday I had my viva (defence) and passed with 'minor corrections' - which means typographical and editing errors. It was the hardest exam I have ever sat. My examiners were brilliant - they were interested and engaged with my work and made me feel totally comfortable while ripping it to shreds. In all honesty, about half way through the viva, I really did believe I would be given a pass with minor deficiencies - or majors (the dreaded referral). I was shocked when my internal recommended that I be awarded the degree pending editorial corrections.
It was exhausting as well - but I really really really enjoyed it. I didn't expect it to be that difficult but I'm glad it was because I can honestly say that I was put through my paces and earned this degree. My supervisor was so lovely as well - and we had a brief chat after the viva in her office about how quickly the four years went by - she said it felt like yesterday that my proposal landed on her desk...! I have been very fortunate in my supervisor: she has been so supportive throughout my degree. This degree has cost me a lot - financially and emotionally (I have been checking for grey hairs and none yet!) - but I can honestly say that it was worth it twice over and I would do it again - just for the friends we have here and the life we've made, if not the agonizing self-doubt and hair-tearing stress of PhD life.
So here I am, at the end of traditional education - and thankfully, it is no 'end' at all.
Yesterday I had my viva (defence) and passed with 'minor corrections' - which means typographical and editing errors. It was the hardest exam I have ever sat. My examiners were brilliant - they were interested and engaged with my work and made me feel totally comfortable while ripping it to shreds. In all honesty, about half way through the viva, I really did believe I would be given a pass with minor deficiencies - or majors (the dreaded referral). I was shocked when my internal recommended that I be awarded the degree pending editorial corrections.
It was exhausting as well - but I really really really enjoyed it. I didn't expect it to be that difficult but I'm glad it was because I can honestly say that I was put through my paces and earned this degree. My supervisor was so lovely as well - and we had a brief chat after the viva in her office about how quickly the four years went by - she said it felt like yesterday that my proposal landed on her desk...! I have been very fortunate in my supervisor: she has been so supportive throughout my degree. This degree has cost me a lot - financially and emotionally (I have been checking for grey hairs and none yet!) - but I can honestly say that it was worth it twice over and I would do it again - just for the friends we have here and the life we've made, if not the agonizing self-doubt and hair-tearing stress of PhD life.
So here I am, at the end of traditional education - and thankfully, it is no 'end' at all.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Skinny latte, with wings
I love it. If I drank skinny anything I would make this my new motto. I might just get a t-shirt with this blazoned across the front - and back. Could I use this at Timmy's next time I'm home? It might be worth a try. I know that there is a lovely lingo associated with diners in North America - I know this because diner culture is a fond topic of conversation in our house. I was unaware until this morning that coffee culture was developing its own...
I wonder, as I ponder, whether moving back to Canada will be anything like what this chap has experienced in moving back to England. Of course, I didn't leave Canada due to frustration with the political/cultural climate - in fact, I'm more frustrated with the politics of Canada since I left. But it's interesting to think about. What would I find different?
I wonder, as I ponder, whether moving back to Canada will be anything like what this chap has experienced in moving back to England. Of course, I didn't leave Canada due to frustration with the political/cultural climate - in fact, I'm more frustrated with the politics of Canada since I left. But it's interesting to think about. What would I find different?
Saturday, December 01, 2007
December One
24 Days until Christmas. I wish I had an advent calendar. I know Green&Black's does one with lovely chocs. Next year I'll get one. And hang it beside the door. Growing up (which makes it sound - horribly - as though I've grown up), we always had ours in the sunroom. Advent calendars and doors are somehow welded together in my mind.
As it's December, I suppose atheism is as good topic as any. I'm touched that Benedict has agreed to meet Muslim leaders to discuss common ground - he was, it's reported, particularly impressed with the insistence in the letter on the 'twofold commandment to love God and one's neighbour'. Well, it really is time that someone pointed that out to most of us. I'm equally confused, however, by his latest encyclical, in which he turns his vitriol from other religions to atheists.
Not content with even the Guardian's upstanding reportage, I spent some time doing a bit of light research while sitting at the desk waiting patiently for inquisitive minds. I do love the Catholic church for their records - truly, it's amazing what they are willing to commit to print. There is learning there; nothing can exist for that long without some kind of progression, I suppose - progress all the more startling considering that in Humanis Generis (1950), Pius XII thought it necessary to remind his flock that
"if the Supreme Pontiffs in their official documents purposely pass judgment on a matter up to that time under dispute, it is obvious that that matter, according to the mind and will of the Pontiffs, cannot be any longer considered a question open to discussion among theologians" (sec. 20).
But I digress - and return to the latest encyclical, Spe Salvi.
I'm really rather intrigued with Benedict's repeated insistence on the 'performative' nature of the Christian message (secs. 2, 4, 10 for example). But that's another digression. I do find myself nodding in agreement with Benedict's point regarding how the 'political conditions of the kingdom of reason and freedom [are]...ill defined': 'reason and freedom seem to guarantee by themselves, by virtue of their intrinsic goodness, a new and perfect human community' (sec. 18). Dalton Trumbo said it better in Johnny Got His Gun (a new edition of this has been published - go, gentle reader, and read): freedom is just a word. Sure, so is 'reason'. For that matter, so is 'faith' or 'hope'. I want to be convinced by - or willing to believe in - Benedict's discussion of human freedom (secs. 23-25). It is striking and rather eloquent - indeed, it stands out from the rest of the document in eloquence, which some of his prose lacks. I'm not, however, because the Church has forgotten, in spite of Benedict's belief in the performativity of the Gospel, that their own actions - their performances of doctine, instances of praxis - make it clear that the 'freedom' espoused is too narrow, too rigidly defined. Too broad a definition of 'freedom' or 'reason' doesn't actually seem to be a problem for the RC church. By human, read 'white, Christian, heterosexual male'; by freedom, read, 'to live as a white, Christian, heterosexual male'.
I'm curious however about his tacit insistence on the schism between 'science' and 'love'. Indeed, it seems to me that he does not clarify these terms anymore than the professors of 'freedom' and 'reason' explain their terms. Earlier in the document, Benedict's ideas put me in mind of Curtis White's essay in Harper's, 'The Idols of Evironmentalism', which I've already blogged about here. It feels as though this initial separation between 'science' and 'love' marshalls atheists and Christian believers into opposing sides by section 42.
It is one thing to critique pure reason for providing no more, if no less, certainty than faith; it is another to lump together science, reason, and atheism as bulwarks against the felicitous performance of the Christian message of hope.
But let me end with love and Saint Augustine: 'Love, and do what thou wilt: whether thou hold thy peace, through love hold thy peace; whether thou cry out, through love cry out; whether thou correct, through love correct; whether thou spare, through love do thou spare: let the root of love be within, of this root can nothing spring but what is good' (In epistulam Ioannis ad Parth). How unbounded a vision does this offer of the potential of human goodness? How opposite from the 'love' that reads this and finds in it justification for cruelty, tyranny, and punishment.
As it's December, I suppose atheism is as good topic as any. I'm touched that Benedict has agreed to meet Muslim leaders to discuss common ground - he was, it's reported, particularly impressed with the insistence in the letter on the 'twofold commandment to love God and one's neighbour'. Well, it really is time that someone pointed that out to most of us. I'm equally confused, however, by his latest encyclical, in which he turns his vitriol from other religions to atheists.
Not content with even the Guardian's upstanding reportage, I spent some time doing a bit of light research while sitting at the desk waiting patiently for inquisitive minds. I do love the Catholic church for their records - truly, it's amazing what they are willing to commit to print. There is learning there; nothing can exist for that long without some kind of progression, I suppose - progress all the more startling considering that in Humanis Generis (1950), Pius XII thought it necessary to remind his flock that
"if the Supreme Pontiffs in their official documents purposely pass judgment on a matter up to that time under dispute, it is obvious that that matter, according to the mind and will of the Pontiffs, cannot be any longer considered a question open to discussion among theologians" (sec. 20).
But I digress - and return to the latest encyclical, Spe Salvi.
I'm really rather intrigued with Benedict's repeated insistence on the 'performative' nature of the Christian message (secs. 2, 4, 10 for example). But that's another digression. I do find myself nodding in agreement with Benedict's point regarding how the 'political conditions of the kingdom of reason and freedom [are]...ill defined': 'reason and freedom seem to guarantee by themselves, by virtue of their intrinsic goodness, a new and perfect human community' (sec. 18). Dalton Trumbo said it better in Johnny Got His Gun (a new edition of this has been published - go, gentle reader, and read): freedom is just a word. Sure, so is 'reason'. For that matter, so is 'faith' or 'hope'. I want to be convinced by - or willing to believe in - Benedict's discussion of human freedom (secs. 23-25). It is striking and rather eloquent - indeed, it stands out from the rest of the document in eloquence, which some of his prose lacks. I'm not, however, because the Church has forgotten, in spite of Benedict's belief in the performativity of the Gospel, that their own actions - their performances of doctine, instances of praxis - make it clear that the 'freedom' espoused is too narrow, too rigidly defined. Too broad a definition of 'freedom' or 'reason' doesn't actually seem to be a problem for the RC church. By human, read 'white, Christian, heterosexual male'; by freedom, read, 'to live as a white, Christian, heterosexual male'.
I'm curious however about his tacit insistence on the schism between 'science' and 'love'. Indeed, it seems to me that he does not clarify these terms anymore than the professors of 'freedom' and 'reason' explain their terms. Earlier in the document, Benedict's ideas put me in mind of Curtis White's essay in Harper's, 'The Idols of Evironmentalism', which I've already blogged about here. It feels as though this initial separation between 'science' and 'love' marshalls atheists and Christian believers into opposing sides by section 42.
It is one thing to critique pure reason for providing no more, if no less, certainty than faith; it is another to lump together science, reason, and atheism as bulwarks against the felicitous performance of the Christian message of hope.
But let me end with love and Saint Augustine: 'Love, and do what thou wilt: whether thou hold thy peace, through love hold thy peace; whether thou cry out, through love cry out; whether thou correct, through love correct; whether thou spare, through love do thou spare: let the root of love be within, of this root can nothing spring but what is good' (In epistulam Ioannis ad Parth). How unbounded a vision does this offer of the potential of human goodness? How opposite from the 'love' that reads this and finds in it justification for cruelty, tyranny, and punishment.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
librarian, vent thyself
There are times when I truly hate - with an aspirated 'H' - the general public -- even when that 'general public' is the fairly select demographic of a university student body (though 'fairly select' when, apparently, over 50% of A-level students scored in the highest grade range is dubious). I truly do believe that the university must be an institution open to all - anyone who wants to learn should be welcomed.
But that's the catch - wanting to learn. Not simply filling a chair (and the university's coffers), making use of the 10% discount at some high-street shops, and getting quicker access to a surgery. And I do - call me rather pedantic - believe that wanting to learn does not get compartmentalised - wanting to learn should be all-encompassing, not goal oriented; that lovely, sadly anachronistic, anti-utilitarian desire to learn for learning's sake. If you want to learn, you learn - you learn everything and anything that can be taught. Okay, this sounds like I expect everyone to be an expert in everything - impractical at best. Allow me to try to explain.
Learning - again, this is all from my perspective (um...obviously! it's my blog) - requires interest; I cannot teach an uninterested student. At best, they will recite back to me, with no real learning, what I have said in seminar, or what they've read from some secondary source. I don't particularly care, in the long run. But there are few people more boring to spend time with than those without interest - curiosity - critical engagement - enthusiasm. And that bleeds into all things. If I can teach one thing in any course, it is always just to be interested in something - anything but be interested and take responsibility for that interest: feed it, satisfy it, increase it.
Huh. Well this is going to sound silly. But see there's this alarm that goes off when someone tries to use their student ID more than once within a certain time period at the campus library. Okay - I know - silly. But when you are working at that station for an entire hour and that bloody alarm goes off every 10 minutes...well, by the half-hour you are ready to strangle the next reader who sets it off. And I especially love the ones that go through and turn around to let their friends through - the very reason the time delay was installed. Why unleash this particular rant here? Because it seems to me that someone at university would have the sense to see that there is a reason that EACH student has a unique ID. I also particularly enjoy the student that stands there, zombie-like, repeatedly passing his card over the sensor as it beeps merrily away...
I say nothing of those to whom the entire concept of a 'library' belongs to a brave new world. Nor of those who confuse 'customer service' with 'customer servants'...
I really am going to be the most crotchety old lady one day...
But that's the catch - wanting to learn. Not simply filling a chair (and the university's coffers), making use of the 10% discount at some high-street shops, and getting quicker access to a surgery. And I do - call me rather pedantic - believe that wanting to learn does not get compartmentalised - wanting to learn should be all-encompassing, not goal oriented; that lovely, sadly anachronistic, anti-utilitarian desire to learn for learning's sake. If you want to learn, you learn - you learn everything and anything that can be taught. Okay, this sounds like I expect everyone to be an expert in everything - impractical at best. Allow me to try to explain.
Learning - again, this is all from my perspective (um...obviously! it's my blog) - requires interest; I cannot teach an uninterested student. At best, they will recite back to me, with no real learning, what I have said in seminar, or what they've read from some secondary source. I don't particularly care, in the long run. But there are few people more boring to spend time with than those without interest - curiosity - critical engagement - enthusiasm. And that bleeds into all things. If I can teach one thing in any course, it is always just to be interested in something - anything but be interested and take responsibility for that interest: feed it, satisfy it, increase it.
Huh. Well this is going to sound silly. But see there's this alarm that goes off when someone tries to use their student ID more than once within a certain time period at the campus library. Okay - I know - silly. But when you are working at that station for an entire hour and that bloody alarm goes off every 10 minutes...well, by the half-hour you are ready to strangle the next reader who sets it off. And I especially love the ones that go through and turn around to let their friends through - the very reason the time delay was installed. Why unleash this particular rant here? Because it seems to me that someone at university would have the sense to see that there is a reason that EACH student has a unique ID. I also particularly enjoy the student that stands there, zombie-like, repeatedly passing his card over the sensor as it beeps merrily away...
I say nothing of those to whom the entire concept of a 'library' belongs to a brave new world. Nor of those who confuse 'customer service' with 'customer servants'...
I really am going to be the most crotchety old lady one day...
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
pillow talk
Now I'm not saying that laughter can't be part of great sex. Not just the low-in-the-throat, seductive chuckle - real belly laughter. To laugh like that heralds comfort and security - a recognition of the intimate relationship between the sacred and the profane (bedfellows always).
Writing sex scenes is difficult I'm sure - particularly in print where there is no picture/soundtrack to direct/manipulate the viewer. Bad sex in film would be a topic and competition all its own. Consider the difference between, say, Don't Look Now (one of the best sex scenes on celluloid) and...um... Titanic, or Baz Luhrman's Romeo + Juliet (both contenders for the worst sex scenes of recent film).
Anyway, this is what stimulated this particular ponder - a close contender for my all-time favourite literary mock-competition (which is this one).
Writing sex scenes is difficult I'm sure - particularly in print where there is no picture/soundtrack to direct/manipulate the viewer. Bad sex in film would be a topic and competition all its own. Consider the difference between, say, Don't Look Now (one of the best sex scenes on celluloid) and...um... Titanic, or Baz Luhrman's Romeo + Juliet (both contenders for the worst sex scenes of recent film).
Anyway, this is what stimulated this particular ponder - a close contender for my all-time favourite literary mock-competition (which is this one).
Furthermore
As we played mancala last night, we discussed the event in Sudan that I blogged about yesterday. Which gave me more to ponder. I think now I was too harsh on this teacher and perhaps blame should be more fairly apportioned round. I'm not recanting completely but it seems to me, on further reflection, that a good old fashioned sit-down and chat would have been more appropriate than an arrest. And as Nasser points out, it is possible that the reportage, even in such a worthy rag as The Guardian, might not have the whole story.
So there. A lesson in pondering any ponderable at least twice before professing.
My bedside book right now is Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich. I'm not sure how to work it into my research profile - but I will find a way. I'm working slowly but surely towards theology and literature - it's not so far from law and literature in many ways (which I'll go into later...). Anyway, my paper in January at BSECS is about hagiography and historiography in Sophia Lee's The Recess and I'm hoping to look at how Mary's Catholicism, which is never overtly referred to in the text, emerges through Lee's strategies of writing...Obviously, I need to think more on this...
My viva is in two weeks.
So there. A lesson in pondering any ponderable at least twice before professing.
My bedside book right now is Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich. I'm not sure how to work it into my research profile - but I will find a way. I'm working slowly but surely towards theology and literature - it's not so far from law and literature in many ways (which I'll go into later...). Anyway, my paper in January at BSECS is about hagiography and historiography in Sophia Lee's The Recess and I'm hoping to look at how Mary's Catholicism, which is never overtly referred to in the text, emerges through Lee's strategies of writing...Obviously, I need to think more on this...
My viva is in two weeks.
Monday, November 26, 2007
A bear by any other name
This is a disheartening story in many ways. My initial reaction was one of slightly weary annoyance: honestly, it's a freakin' teddy bear. But then I took myself to task, shook myself from my library-induced lethargy and pondered a while (in between dealing with readers' questions and checking out books).
Now my annoyance is turned onto this teacher. I just cannot believe that she is unaware of the level of sensitivity that situations like this demand. This is not the first time that an issue like this has made the news in the past few years. While my initial reaction remains - I cannot understand that level of devotion to a name (surely there are people bearing the prophet's name whose lives constitute a slur on his memory - in the same way that not everyone named 'Jesus' is likely to be a saint) - it is not my faith and I am not called to understand it. I would like to believe, were I in this teacher's place, that I would be aware of the culture in which I am working and living.
It's a teachable moment badly missed. I think it would have made a lovely lesson to ask, when a child suggested 'Muhammed' as a name for a teddy bear, why they thought it would be a good name. What does the name mean to them? Given it's popularity as a boy's name, perhaps whoever suggested it had a brother called Muhammed or a father or uncle, or was so called himself. I'm wondering if, from there, it might be an interesting way into teaching them a culture/history/religious lesson on the spot. Why couldn't the bear be called Muhammed? What does the name mean? What does it mean to hold something sacred? I appreciate that I'm likely oversimplifying it and I don't teach young children and it's a very complex and large problem. I also think that that is crap. I'm particularly interested in the way that this teacher is implicitly absolved because she tried to teach the children a lesson about democracy instead...
And I will not countenance any whining claims that this is 'PC gone mad'. Few statements - usually accompanied by a liberal toss of the head and stamp of the foot - irritate me more. This has nothing to do with political correctness and everything to do with sensitivity and tolerance. I know that some reactions to this serious - but innocent - lapse in judgement will cause problems as well - there will be people (apparently there already are) who wait for events like this to excuse or explain violence. And that's a shame too. More than a shame. But I think that it is a separate issue and what I'm interested in now and shall go off and ponder is how big the world has become and how much more is demanded of us when we go out to play.
