2010.12.31
151 Days Remaining

01. So we're down to the final 4.5 hours of 2010 as I type these words (according to my computer, synced to the official US time, it's 19:29. As I'm drafting these remarks I find that many of them are negative in tone or tenor, and so I'm going to revise this (the negative elements will be included, but hopefully not predominant). So, here on the eve of the calendar's turning, let me start with some positive notes, aesthetic, academic, and emotional.

02.01. I recently heard the Arcade Fire's new single, "Modern Man," which very nicely exemplifies a type of music that I find very compelling, sound-wise. Another example of this is Concrete Blonde's achingly lovely and somber (a personal favorite - and their best known song) "Joey." Somehow this music is all dark colors clearly visible and articulate in my mind's eye; it feels strong to me, despite lyrics that are often sad or troubled. I think that there is something dignified about it, rock and roll that isn't shouting or bright but solid. And, to balance out the darkness, last night I overheard my parents watching Wes Anderson's stop-motion film The Fantastic Mr. Fox (based off of a kids' novel by Roald Dahl); the closing credits ran over the song "Let Her Dance" by the Bobby Fuller Four. I can't find a full version on Youtube, but an abbreviated one is here. This is one of the best rockabilly songs I've encountered, and currently emblematizes for me the brightness and joyousness that rock and roll can achieve. So, dark and bright, I love them both. Not a bad way to end one year and start the next, with good music.

02.02. The author of my favorite fan-fiction, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, also published an online essay (very short) on the 12 Virtues of Rationality. They are worth reading, they actually exemplify many of the things that I've been striving to articulate and develop in my own approach to the world as a child (and, I hope, a productively maladjusted one) of the Enlightenment, and which I try to impart, as intellectual values, to my students.

02.03. I had lunch today with Aurelia, at the very nice "Extreme Pizza" restaurant that has only recently opened at the lower end of North Market Street in Wilmington (for those who know the area and are interested in trying it out, it's on the 100 block, just north of Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd). And, before that, I spent a while on gmail chat with Belisarius (aka "Awesome Man" on his own blog: http://www.loudhandle.net/ where I am known as "Shrewsbury"), and was remarking about the ways I have been made a member of several families in addition to my biological one. I spent part of the afternoon talking to Selena and hanging out with her kids, Iunia and Euander, and then at my parents' house chatting sporadically with Momula. Sometimes it is worth remembering that we are surrounded by love, even if at any given moment we don't feel its immediacy. Hugh Grant delivered a surprisingly moving opening voice-over to the film Love Actually, in which he points out that none of the cut-off and frantic phone calls made during the events of 911 were motivated by hatred. In those last moments for all of those people, they wanted to speak with the people they loved more than anything else. Here, at the end of the year, I find it worth remembering that I am lucky to be cared for by so many people, and to care for them.

03. I am not a fan of New Year's for a number of reasons:

03.01. I dislike the disjunction between the civil calendar and the natural world's cycles. As I've remarked earlier, I'd prefer the New Year to coincide with my Yule celebration on 21 December - but that would necessitate reworking the calendar en toto, which project's success would require socio-cultural efficacy far beyond my pay grade. The gap between Christmas and New Year's is actually ritually marked in several folk calendars in Europe as powerful but dangerous: visiting, fortune-telling (when better to predict the future than when it is literally about to begin?), haunting, and demons about in the countryside. But all of that depends on living in near proximity to people, gathering together and playing. In my experience, these final days of the year are more of a winding-down, and feel like they're empty instead of full.

03.02. As a child I far preferred Christmas and found the actual celebration aesthetically and emotionally dull. Not being a drinker, nor a partier in general, New Year's Eve parties have never particularly appealed to me (the few I've been to in my adult life have all confirmed this repeatedly). Again, if I could gather together many of my people, perhaps it would be different. But the holiday itself doesn't particularly inspire me. I find the Solstice much more amenable to such an idea.

03.03. Dick Clark frightens me.

04. This has been a strange and, in many ways, sad year for me and far too many of my people, and for far too many people anywhere. I think that is why the only New Year's song that I have ever particularly liked is on my mind a lot right now: "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve" (performed by dozens of singers and groups over the past several decades) is about hope and taking chances for better outcomes. Here's the Persuasion's take on it.

05. So, as the New Year sweeps over the globe today/tonight, I hope that 2011 will be a better year for us all.

Christimasse Hath Made An End, Welladay Welladay

2010.12.28
Days Remaining: 154

01. First off, a belated declaration of Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate it. Second, a now one-day-late (I started writing this post yesterday, but did not finish) Happy Birthday to my sister, Selena, who is 31 years old as of yesterday. My first memory of Selena ex utero was waking up two mornings after Christmas, having just turned 4, and finding my parents were gone. My maternal aunt (who lived up the street from us at that time) was at the house instead, and I knew that my mom had had the baby. I'd been waiting excitedly for a little brother (this was before ultrasounds made determining a fetus' sex commonplace), already having a little sister (who was then just shy of two years old). When my aunt called my mom to tell her I was awake, my mom told me that I had a little sister, Selena. Wanting a brother instead (I already had a sister, after all), I began to cry. My aunt only made it worse by pointing out that her child, my cousin, was a boy, and so I had him.

02. Thankfully, despite such an inauspicious beginning, Selena has never been a disappointment, and in fact is both extremely accomplished and a very good person. I am very happy and proud to be her brother, and am eternally grateful that she shares her kids' (Iunia and Euander) lives with me. It's strange to reflect on the fact that I remember the day she was born, and now I can remember the days her children were born in turn.

03. Saint Stephen's Day (or Boxing Day, or Second Christmas) is now over, and the holiday season proper is drawing to a close (with the last hurrah of New Years still to come, of course). Christmas was very nice this year, with my family gathering in Wilmington (between Selena's and my parents' houses - only 4 blocks apart) for the various festivities.

04. My favorite part of Christmas is actually Christmas Eve. Starting my sophomore year of college I began a personal custom which still survives, albeit in attenuated form nowadays, of driving around to my friends' homes, dropping off presents and visiting, before heading to my parents' house for the family's gift-exchanges over a buffet dinner. The circuit of visits has decreased steadily as people have moved away from Delaware (and, on a memorial note, as my honorary grandparents have both passed away - they were always the final stop on the circuit, and are still missed anew each Christmas Eve) or developed conflicting schedules that make visiting on that day very difficult to arrange.

05. I had originally intended to post more about Christmas Eve and related festivities, but to be honest I'm not in the mood to continue in that vein. There was a (relatively) heavy snowfall on the night of the 26th, and I shoveled my parents' driveway in the morning before heading over to Selena's house to say goodbye to my brother and sister-in-law (they were returning home to New Hampshire), and then I went to Iuno and Romulus' house to shovel their driveway. I had a lovely time hanging out and talking with them through the afternoon (including a delicious home-cooked lunch), and then returned to Wilmington, where eventually I went back to Selena's house for birthday cake (a Carvel ice cream cake, from which I abstained though Iunia and Euander loved their pieces - Iunia in particular enjoyed having blue-dyed tongue and fingers). Today I had lunch with another friend (blog-name currently in process) at Groucho's sandwich shop in Newark, DE. I haven't seen her in some time, and it was good to have a long conversation on both personal and macro-level topics. Then I poked around on Main Street for a bit, ran into Iunius' mom at the local bank, and headed to Wilmington to watch Iunia and Euander while Momula prepared to attend the viewing and funeral services for one of her former neighbor's fathers. That sounds grim, but from what I gather the bereaved was very happy that my parents attended. Meanwhile, I hung out with Selena and the kids for a bit, then went to Target, Barnes & Noble, and Borders (because why go to one when there are two bookstores?), before heading back to my parents' house.

06. Why the blow-by-blow account of my day? Because I'm thinking right now. A lot. And I'm thinking about things that I don't want to post yet (if at all), and so the event-listing is a way of either distracting myself or reminding myself about the segregation of day-to-day decisions and the larger decisions that I'm in the midst of deciding. I need a job, come May. I need to figure out what to do next with my life. I'm seeing a therapist for various issues (she was originally the marriage counselor for me and my ex-wife, and I liked her enough that I stayed on as a solo patient/client). She and I discussed all of the big changes coming, back in October, and she recommended that I give myself a break, with a clear deadline, before engaging with them (preferably a deadline after the divorce was finalized). That's coming up with January 1, and then the wheel has to start turning again. I don't know what to do, to be honest. For the month of December there was one academic job in my field (at least for the areas of my larger field in which I'm trained) available, and the description makes it clear that they would like someone with a Philosophy degree (because many schools handle Religion under the Philosophy Departments). It's been that bad for a while now, and getting worse.

07. I like my job now. I know it isn't a long-term job. But this is the kind of thing I like to do. And I'm good at it. But there aren't jobs available. I've looked at the education jobs (preferably high school teaching) in Delaware, and there aren't any for which I'm qualified, at least in the public school districts in or around Wilmington. The Pennsylvania districts, at least in counties near northern Delaware, thus far are not looking so hot either (though there are many more of them, so I've got to go through the list completely). The Delaware Charter schools are also turning up no leads. I don't think I'll be teaching in any capacity next year. That kind of breaks my heart. It also, on a less sentimental note, terrifies me, because this is what I've been doing for years now, and what I'd prefer to continue doing. And we are not, in economic terms, in a good place for switching careers wildly.

08. What am I good at? I don't really know. That sounds halfway ridiculous as I say it in my head and look at it on the screen, but it's true. One would think that being generally intelligent, having a good memory, a love of being informed about (and able to contextualize) data, and a strong interest in most parts of the world around me would all count as assets, but in practical terms... I keep reminding myself that Abraham Lincoln and Harry Truman were failed businessmen and lawyers before becoming successful and world-changing individuals. But I'm not that tall, or that short. And, as the year is drawing to an end, the future is very unsteady in my view. Sigh.

Divorced

2010.12.21
Days Remaining: 161

01. Today I officially divorced my wife of 4 years and 2 months (to the day). I met my two witnesses at noon in Providence, RI, and we had a very nice Thai lunch. We went to the courthouse (arriving 15 minutes early) and at 2pm the bailiff let us into the courtroom. Once the judge came in we had to wait for a clerk to be sent up for the hearing, but once she arrived I went through the procedural questions (name, reasons for divorce, were there any children, etc.). This took approximately 10 minutes, then the judge (who, remember, was kind enough to come in on a day off especially for this hearing after the snafu on Friday) asked me a few questions, then my witnesses were sworn in and verified that I had lived in Providence for a year, and then he rendered his judgment (saying that divorce was granted).

02. I need to file the final paperwork (I have 30 days from today in which to do so), and cannot do that until I get the transcript from the stenographer, which will be available next week (when I'm in Delaware). So when I come back up to New Aldwych at the beginning of January I'll need to drive one last time to Providence, where I'll get the transcript, fill out the paperwork, and file it. And that will be that.

03. I had a moment of difficulty when the judge asked me if there was any chance of reconciliation and I said, "No." I don't think there is, but it was a moment of absolute, no options, no return. This was the right thing to do, but I still cried a little (very quietly, and my eyes dried out almost instantly) as the judge rendered judgment and said, "The Plaintiff's petition for divorce is hereby granted." I'm so sorry that this is how things between myself and my ex-wife ended up. I remember our first email exchanges, and part of me can't believe that, 5 years later, we've been married and divorced.

04. One of my witnesses (I haven't seen her since before the separation) asked if I had kept Mo, the orange-and-white cat we adopted, and I explained that I had let him stay with my ex-wife, not desiring to separate him from her cat, Jasper. I've talked a lot more about missing Herman, the best dog in the world, but I miss my little guy, Mo, a lot as well. He just wasn't a cuddling cat, ever, and so his day-to-day absence is felt in other ways. But today I miss my cat, and I miss my dog, and I even miss my ex-wife, and the life we could have had together in a different world.

05. I was right to get a divorce, and I still have never doubted that, but I'm so very sorry that it was the right thing to do.

The Longest Night Of The Year

2010.12.21 Winter Solstice
Days Remaining: 161

01. I think, as I've mentioned before, that the historical origins of Christmas have to do with marking time, particularly the Winter Solstice. That's tonight, at approximately 1138pm EST. We'll be as far away from the sun at that moment as we ever will in the solar year. Tonight is the Longest Night, the moment when the solar cycle reaches its furthest declension and the new cycle begins.

02. In my perfect world this is the night we'd celebrate Christmas (in fact, when Julius Caesar reformed the Roman Calendar, the Winter Solstice was on 25 December, which is why that date was the festival of Natalis Solis Invictus ("birth of the invincible sun"), and that festival is why the Christians in the 4th Century picked that day to celebrate the birth of Jesus (whose actual birthdate is completely unknown). In fact, since I'm not a Christian, this is the night I'd celebrate Yule. Since human calendars have drifted in relation to the astronomical calendar (which is far more reliable), I prefer to base festival dating on astronomical cycles. So tonight, for me, is the actual holiday. I'm not doing anything to celebrate it as such, but I paused at sunset as we move into the longest night, and if I weren't so tired I'd try to wake up tomorrow for sunrise as the astronomical new year starts.

03. Robertson Davies, the Canadian author, was Master of a college (Canadian universities are organized like British universities into colleges as housing, administrative and pedagogical units, unlike US universities where they're primarily administrative and disciplinary in nature) which had an annual holiday party (before everyone went home) called "Gaudy Night." He wrote a series of short stories (one each year) that were read aloud at the party, and they were collected after he died. Interestingly, in light of my earlier post about A Christmas Carol, they were all ghost stories, though none of them were Dickensian in character or tone.

04. The term gaudy is derived from the Latin gaudium and Old French gaudie, meaning "merry-making" or "enjoyment." There is a medieval carol entitled "Gaudete" which is the imperative form of the verb meaning "Rejoice!" In my imaginary alternate holiday, one of the other names for 21 December is Gaudy Night, the night for rejoicing as the year rolls on and anew. The longest night should be full of ghosts, singing, feasting and visiting. We should burn candles and bonfires as we appreciate the darkness for making the light all the brighter.

05. And, conveniently, we have 12 days from now until New Year's, so we could even have 12 days of Yuletide, officially.

06. And that's about it. Happy New Year to the Sun, and to us all.

On the Eve of the Shortest Day of the Year

2010.12.20
Days Remaining: 162

01. Just a minor amusing thing. There is an article on the "history of eggnog" currently posted on Yahoo's main page, and the author cites various other websites' accounts of why the drink is called eggnog. One of those other websites is the AARP, which in turn cites Mental Floss (http://www.aarp.org/food/recipes/news-12-2010/eggnog_what_you_need_to_know.html), where they discuss the fact that George Washington's recipe for eggnog included rye whiskey, rum, and sherry. What made me laugh out loud is that they then comment "nobody could tell a lie after having a few cups of that." I don't know why that struck me as so funny, but it was the sort of aside that I wasn't expecting, and is all the more appreciated.

02. Today I had a lunch meeting with the Philosophy Department of Baskerville College, at the nearby "Panda Buffet." It was very nice and relaxing, and we discussed various students' progress, overall course issues, and some of the intellectual debates that have arisen in and after classes this semester. It was very collegial and enjoyable, and underscored for me the ideal virtues of an academic department: camaraderie, shared intellectual interests, shared institutional interests (the classes and students), and the ability to work together, even informally.

03. Afterward, I spent some time on campus photocopying two Interlibrary Loan books which arrived last week and which are due back by 31 December (I won't be here then). The general atmosphere on campus (where most students have already left, though finals are not over until Wednesday at noon) was quietly festive, with people working but cheerful and the professors were all, grading notwithstanding, in fairly good spirits. It also helped the holiday mood that the sky was snowy-looking and lowering all day, though nothing actually fell.

04. And now I'm back in my apartment, commenting on rough drafts and collecting final drafts as they're sent to me. Tomorrow is the 2nd try at the divorce hearing. I'm meeting my two witnesses at noon in Providence for lunch, and the hearing is at 2pm. It shouldn't take more than 30 minutes, and then I should be back here by 4pm. And that will be that. Fingers crossed.

Thoughts on Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol

2010.12.19
Days Remaining: 163

01.01. One of my favorite personal habits during Yuletide is to read Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. I grew up with the general cultural awareness that most Americans (and English people) have of the plot and characters (including seeing film versions by Rich Little and at least parts of the George C Scott film), but I didn't actually read the book until I was in college. My sophomore year of college my roommate, Octavian, went home during finals period, leaving our dorm room to me for a week. One Saturday night I walked to the now-closed independent bookstore on Main Street in Newark, DE, and I found a copy of Christmas Ghost Stories by Charles Dickens (a 1992 St. Martins' Press collection of stories that were originally printed in a variety of separate books and magazines). I bought it and returned to my dorm room, where I read it from cover to cover by candlelight with the window open so a cold draft moved through the room (the candlelight and cold were major parts of the aesthetic experience which made that first reading especially memorable). Since that night, I've tried to read A Christmas Carol every year, preferably close to Christmas Eve (I hope that at some point, when they are older, I'll be able to read it to my niece and nephew on Christmas Eve, and share it with them). I have also begun to collect film versions of the story, and some years I have watched one version a night for several consecutive nights. It's always better at night, and with low (candles or Christmas tree lights are preferable) lighting. One of the casualties of the past few years is that, because the Christmas holiday was especially tense and difficult, I have not always been able to either read the story or watch the films. So I have made a point this year of trying to work the story into my schedule.

01.02. On Thursday night last week I watched the Robert Zemeckis/Jim Carrey computer-animated version of the story. I'm afraid that my response to this was less positive than I had hoped it would be.
First, the positives:

1. the scenery (whether urban London or the country side) was incredibly lovely,
   
2. the special effects were well-done,
3. the framing device (going into and out of a leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol) was, though not terribly creative, presented well.
   

Second, the negatives:

1. the animation of human characters was not quite right. They were firmly in the uncanny valley (a critical theory idea that says there is a psychological response point between comfortably non-human and fully human where things are not...quite...human and therefore are all the more disturbing - this is why so many people find mannequins or Howdy Doody and similar things to be upsetting or creepy. For more, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncanny_valley).
   
2. I also couldn't turn off my "that's Jim Carrey" awareness as I watched the film, perhaps because he has made a career mugging for the camera so when he acts all I can think is "that's Jim Carrey acting." I think he was miscast.
   
3. Finally, they changed the plot, as is very, very common in film adaptations. In this case, however, the change actually worked against one of the major themes of the book, which is to "walk abroad amongst one's fellow-men." This comes to the fore when Scrooge (in the book) is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Present. Their entire interaction is spent walking (or flying between walks) among people (Scrooge and Ghost are invisible) so that Scrooge sees other humans as something besides economic opportunities. In the Zemeckis film, Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas present fly over the city and get what the Ghost calls "a divine view" of people, which is nice, but misses the point of human sympathy and fellow-feeling.

01.03. Last night I watched the George C. Scott version of A Christmas Carol (conveniently available for streaming on Netflix). This is one of my favorite film versions of the book in general. I think that Scott does a very interesting Scrooge, one that acknowledges an interesting point that is often missed by other performances: Scrooge has a(n underused) sense of humor, and is very self-satisfied. On the other hand, this version underscores an intriguing problem for any film or stage adaptation: how to present the three Spirits in a way that is responsible to the book.

02.01. It should, on the face of it, be simple. First off, the three spirits are all versions of one another (imagine one being at three different stages of life), something that is often obscured in film versions (I'll explain why later). Second, they are all anthropomorphic (though Christmas Past presents some particular challenges). Third, Dickens actually gives detailed descriptions of all three. Fourth and finally, even where Dickens' description provides some ambiguity, film ought to be able to overcome or integrate them. But in all of these cases, interestingly, there has developed a sort of tradition about how to present them, and subsequent productions incorporate or respond to preceding ones, rather than to the text.

02.02. So, the three Ghosts:

1. Ghost of Christmas Past: is an old man or a young child (though the latter impression is primarily based on its size - it appears as if viewed from far away) with long, flowing white hair (and, despite being described as an old man, the skin is unwrinkled). Dressed in a white tunic, with the hems embroidered colorfully with "summer flowers," and wearing a lustrous belt; its arms, hands, legs and feet are all bare. Holds a branch of holly in one hand, and carries a (one imagines oversized) candle extinguisher under its arm. From the crown of its head shot a column of clear, white light. The primary complication with depicting this figure is that it literally flickers, the various elements of its body coming into or out of focus, and even disappearing momentarily (so that sometimes it seemed to have only one leg, at other times twenty, or was a body without a head, or a head without a body, and so forth). This, I have always thought, would have been incredibly difficult on stage (though I think one might be able to simulate some of it with the use of mirrors), but on film shouldn't be particularly difficult at all. (Interesting side note, many critics have observed that elements of this character's appearance are comparable to a blearily seen lit candle -the color, the lit top, the extinguisher nearby - and so there is a minor side-tradition of pushing that through into the visual depiction - in the Zemeckis film the Ghost is literally a vaguely anthropomorphic candle, which rather misses the other features Dickens describes).
   
2. Ghost of Christmas Present: the most often correctly depicted of the three, because this is where the British Father Christmas and the American Santa Claus show a common ancestry or type. This Spirit is a "giant" young man with dark brown hair, worn long (it is unclear if he is bearded in the written text, but the earliest illustrated edition, which had Dickens' approval, depicts him with a beard - which matches traditional British images of Father Christmas). He wears a dark green robe or mantle trimmed with white fur, which hangs open so one can see his chest. His feet, when visible, are (again) bare. He wears a rusted and empty sword sheath, and is crowned with a holly wreath, on which are several icicles (it's unclear if they hang down or are arranged to stand upright like a crown). He carries in one hand a brightly lit torch shaped like a cornucopia. As his time with Scrooge progresses (in the book they actually walk together, invisible, through the entire twelve days of Christmas, and part at midnight on Twelfth Night), he visibly ages, so that when Scrooge sees him last the Ghost's hair is gray.
3. Ghost of Christmas Future: Is actually not a skeleton, despite the very common decision to show his hands as claws or composed only of bones. In fact, this figure is best imagined as a concealed, younger version of the Ghost of Christmas Present (hidden because the future has not yet come). The reason so many people think it's a skeleton is that the only visible part of its body is a hand, which is sometimes described as "spectral." But that only means "ghostly" and is due to it being a Spirit. If anything, the emphasis on the hands of other two Spirits elsewhere in the text strongly suggest that this should be a young man's hand, made all the more incongruous for being matched to a terrifying tall, dark, entirely obscured figure.
   

02.03. Of these three, only the Ghost of Christmas Past has any features that would be particularly hard to depict (the flickering and the light shooting from the top of his head). But more importantly, we often miss the fact that these figures are all versions of one another. The Zemeckis film has them all depicted by Jim Carrey, but the depictions are so unmoored to the text (especially for Christmas Past) that one cannot see them as a part of a single continuity. In my ideal visuals for a film version, the same actor (who would be different than the person portraying Scrooge) would play all three, and that would neither be obvious (there would be no effort put into bringing this to the viewers' attention) nor would it be obscured other than by the different costumes and activities.

03.01. I'm always struck, upon re-reading A Christmas Carol, about how much Dickens' language has either shaped, or is congruent with, my own ways of thinking about the holiday (his repeated and varyingly oblique references to Christianity notwithstanding - Dickens' religion is a whole other topic). He repeatedly refers to the year as "rolling" or to Christmas as "coming round again," and the circular imagery resonates with my own thinking in that I consider this holiday to have its origins in paying attention to time, to the cycle of seasons, and to the ongoing alternation between darkness and light (if I had my way, we'd celebrate on 21 December, the Winter Solstice). This is one of the reasons why I emphasize the sameness (at different stages) of the Ghosts in A Christmas Carol: they're personified moments in history, the flickering indeterminacy of the Ghost of Christmas Past is the result of being all of the past combined into a single repository image (even if, according to the Ghost, he is there for Scrooge's past in particular). So even as we mark a turning point in the year, we also move forward in time, coming around again to a different version of the same point.

03.02. Dickens also emphasizes shared food far more than presents (the widespread practice of giving presents at Christmas time actually started, in an institutionalized fashion, around the same time Dickens wrote his book): feasting, dancing and games far more than gifts. And Dickens loved giving gifts, so this was clearly a deliberate choice on his part. As I grow older, I find that I prefer Dickens' version more and more; I'm not averse to giving gifts (and, had I the money to do so, would give them quite happily), but I enjoy the social gathering elements of the holidays more. My favorite part of the holiday is actually Christmas Eve, because I've made a point, for years, of going around that day and visiting with friends (those within driving distance) that day, and then spent the evening at my parents' house with my family. Christmas morning is devoted to presents for the kids, which I love watching, but in general I prefer visiting and spending time together to gifting.

04. And that's about it for now.

Divorce Update

2010.12.19
Days Remaining: 163

01. So, just to make sure everyone's up to speed, the divorce proceedings on Friday 17 December were unsuccessful because in September and October I was not provided with the correct forms by the Clerk of Family Court (with whom I've had other serious paperwork issues), and so did not know that I needed to have with me two witnesses who can swear to my having lived in Rhode Island for a year before filing. Upon investigation, the form that would have told me about this requirement is no longer regularly included in the Divorce Packet, and is available separately if one knows to ask for it. How one would do that without knowing that such a form exists is anyone's guess. The judge, who was very friendly and sympathetic, has agreed to reschedule the hearing for 2pm next Tuesday (21 December) provided I can find two witnesses. Since I don't know anyone in Providence, I asked my not-quite-ex-wife if she knew anyone in the area around Providence who would be willing to sacrifice 10 minutes of their time to swear that we lived in Providence (they literally need to be sworn in and then say, "Yes, he lived here for a year."). She was able to locate a former grad student at Brown and the now retired departmental secretary, so we're now all set. I'm going to lunch with my witnesses beforehand, and then that will be that.

02. This has been a very demoralizing experience all through, and entirely due to bureaucratic incompetence. From sheriff's offices that don't know where their county lines are located to clerks who don't know what information is needed to fill out forms to clerks who keep information out of public hands for no good reason, this has been an entirely needless nightmare. If everything had been properly organized and everyone involved were doing their jobs, I would have been able to successfully file in September, would have had time to line up witnesses ahead of time, and the hearing would have taken place last month. As it is, I'm now delaying my holiday departure to Delaware by a day to do the 2nd take on the divorce proceeding, have wasted an entire day in Providence, and (because money is tight this matters) am putting an extra 100 miles on my car with the extra trip. I'm exhausted, and ready to be done.

Why I Love Teaching

2010.12.15
Days Remaining: 167

01. My Philosophy of Religion class's final essay for the semester is to take any one of the (roughly 2 or 3 dozen) short essays we've read (all written by philosophers of religion, of course) and apply it to Santa Claus instead of to God. This is partly to illustrate a point I've made throughout the semester: that what we call "philosophy of religion" is really "Christian theology with the word 'Jesus' swapped out for the more generic 'God.'" This beggars the field, as most of what it struggles with is informed entirely by Christian tradition (with occasional parallels drawn from Jewish and Muslim philosophy, which is just cheating because they're all so closely related in historical terms). So the final essay is meant to show how problematic this all is if you apply it to a supernatural figure who isn't a crypto-version of the Christian God.

02. So far the students have been variously interested or excited by the topic, and I've had a few people send me ideas or the beginnings of drafts. This evening I received a series of preliminary notes and observations (not a draft yet) from one of my students who took the class with some trepidation because she'd never taken a philosophy course before. But she persevered through it, met with me several times outside of class to talk about what we were going over, sent me drafts of each essay asking for feedback, and she has a very solid B for the class (and I'm a hard grader). Her preliminary notes are for an essay applying Kierkegaard's idea of the leap of faith to Chris Van Allsburg's book The Polar Express. I laughed so hard I cried when I read her ideas, because it's brilliant. That book is, entirely unknown to me, almost audibly crying out for a Kierkegaardian analysis, and my student caught on and is writing that analysis. I love when my students do this sort of thing: suddenly use what they get in class to reveal entire new perspectives on the world around them. It's one of the nicest birthday presents I could have asked for.

2010.12.14
Days Remaining: 168
Days of Marriage Remaining: 3 (inclusive)

01. CLASSES ARE DONE! Only grading left to do! And I should have one class done by tomorrow morning! I'm so frigging tired.

02. Ahem. Last class sessions today went very well, and the students seemed in good spirits and several came up to talk with me afterward about the semester, which is always a good sign. They have been a good group, and I'm happy that several have enrolled in my classes next semester, also a good sign. I'll be very curious to see the Evals in January, especially for the two classes I had not taught before, Love, Death & Desire and Philosophy of Religion (I will not miss teaching the latter, but the former was fun).

03. It snowed this morning, but in the same way that it has snowed here recently: an hour or two of flurries, but no accumulation. It is, on the other hand, cold out. When I got into my car this evening to drive home, it was 20 degrees F outside. I have the heat on in my apartment, but the large, poorly insulated glass sliding doors are faintly radiating cold. I've lived places where it gets colder (we've had several days like this, though not consecutively), but not much. The coldest I've ever been was in Syracuse, where one day it was so cold the insides of my nostrils froze when I stepped outside. But this is probably getting close to that, I think.

04. I spoke with my Native American Religions class about the possibility, which I have been pondering, of trying to write a Native Americans' Religions textbook, to improve the available resources for those teaching courses like mine. They were actually very enthusiastic about it, and I shall ponder it further.

05. Iuno and Romulus sent me a replacement for my cell phone, which had become literally unhinged while driving back up here from Thanksgiving after Delaware (a hinge broke). It arrived and I picked it up today, and I'm very grateful for it, as talking on the phone had otherwise become an acrobatic procedure. I seem to have very poor luck with cell phones. It may be deliberate on their part, as I dislike the constant-availability they offer. I like the idea of not being potentially on call at all times.

06. And that's about it for now.

Winter Thoughts, Again

2010.12.13
Days Remaining: 169
Days of Marriage Remaining: 4 (inclusive)

01. The past several days, up until last night, have been filled with grading and reading essay drafts. This is due to a combination of procrastination on my part (some of it could have been done earlier) and the imminent end of the semester, wherein all is settled and final grades apportioned as dictated by the Dark Gods of December Judgment.

02. At least, that's how it feels as the days continue to dwindle. New Aldwych's version of the storms that hammered the midwest was yesterday's day-long torrential rain, which came down heavily enough to make a constant barely audible drumming noise on the roof of my building (I'm on the top floor) throughout the day. The winds howled off and on, whipping tree limbs around or sending what amounted to waves of rain against the windows and walls. That, and 50 degree F temperatures that lasted until this afternoon (though the thermometer is beginning to creep down to more seasonal levels as I type). I will admit that it did give me pause as I've been trying to jump start any sort of holiday cheer on my part. Rainstorms, although perhaps evocative of the of Emerson Lake & Palmer's "I Believe In Father Christmas," are not conducive to Yuletide imaginings, especially when accompanied by mild temperatures. So much rain...if only it had been colder and we'd had snow instead. Belisarius, also known on his own blog as Awesome Man, has had snow fall every day for the past two weeks (though, from what he says, no monster accumulation). Here, we had flurries last weekend, but no accumulation yet. It's warmer here, right now, than it is in Delaware. And I'm 4 hours north, roughly.

03. When I was a kid I hated being cold, and loved summer time. As I've aged I seem to be going through exactly the opposite process that many of my friends have experienced, and I've come to love and look forward to snow and winter. I think that this is due to a number of things, from the physiological to the biographical. I seem to be very poorly insulated, and I tend to overheat very easily. My various ex-girlfriends and soon-to-be-ex-wife all commented that sharing a bed with me is like sleeping with a radiator. I first noticed this in college during my Freshman year's spring semester. In March, when the days were warm but the nights were cold, I began to leave the window open and turn the fan on (so it blew on me) after my roommate fell asleep, because if I had blankets I'd quickly warm them up despite the influx of cold air. In fact, I really enjoyed the cold air, because it made the warm more distinct and comfortable. And from that point on, I've liked to be cold at night, if possible (the only caveat to that is that I'm not fond of air conditioning and what it does to my sinuses). That preference continues to this day, but my love of winter and snow came from living in Syracuse for two years. I was warned, regularly, about dealing with the lake-effect snow, but once there I loved it. I loved the shoveling (random fact: I like working outdoors in the cold), the way that it changed the darkness and light at night, the sight of snowfall every day (my second year there it snowed every day from January through April). So here I am, in New England, waiting for the snow to come. Only caveat: I need new snow boots. Other than that, I'm ready and pulling to go.

04. So, all of that said, I hope to always live someplace where snow is a distinct possibility, not a surprise. I'd prefer someplace where snow is expected on a regular basis. I love seasons, and the changes between them. The only place that I've ever been tempted to live where that isn't the case is New Mexico, and even there I'd like to be in the mountains where snow still might happen. I'm listening to a version of the "First Noel" by Bing Crosby, and he has various opening remarks (this was taken from a national radio broadcast) about not knowing if his listeners are in the "snows of New England" or the "warm, tropical beaches of the Florida coast." And that's the final piece: to me, this holiday is about winter. Yuletide that's warm and humid doesn't make sense to me, aesthetically. Give me the north, and winds and snow and cold, deep clear cold that makes the stars brighter and the morning all the more welcome. Give me the

05. Tomorrow is the last day of classes, and I'm very ready to be done. Not because the classes weren't enjoyable to teach, but because the semester has been exhausting. Come my divorce hearing on Friday, I'll be able to settle into grading and readying myself for Christmas, and the break will be very welcome. I cannot wait.

2010.12.11
Days Remaining: 171
Days of Marriage Remaining: 6 (inclusive)

01. Last Saturday, after returning from the Mashantucket Pequot Museum and posting on this blog, I randomly logged on to Facebook, something I normally avoid (except for a once-a-month check to see if anything important has come my way). Lucky for me that I did so, as my sister Selena had posted a note asking me to call her regarding a long-delayed present for Iunia and Euander. Last year I found out that the European toy company Playmobil produces annual Advent Calendars, and 2009's was one called "Christmas in the Forest" (you can see it online at http://store.playmobilusa.com/on/demandware.store/Sites-US-Site/en_US/Product-Show?pid=4155&cgid= ). I cannot recall if I purchased the calendars (one for each kid) myself or if I had my mom, hereafter known as Momula (married, of course, to Dadulus), pick them up for me at the wonderful toy store in Wilmington, Yo-Yo Joe's (http://www.yoyojoes.com/). Regardless, my brother Decius and his wife had already provided Advent calendars for last year (My Little Pony, I believe), so the Playmobil ones went into storage. Apparently last Saturday Selena and family did their outdoor holiday decorating, and Selena rediscovered the stored calendars. The kids were, perhaps unsurprisingly, very eager to open the presents, but Selena wanted my permission before they did so. So I called and gave them my blessing. Selena wrote about the opening on her blog (www.yestheykeepmebusy.blogspot.com), and she mentioned something I didn't know: that the calendars require assembly. So she had to put two of them together with the able assistance of the kids.

02. I really liked that calendar (they still sell it, if anyone else is interested) because of the emphasis on charity and the de-emphasis on anything particularly religious (no references, other than the date, to Christianity, Jesus, etc.). As a non-Christian who loves Christmas, it has become normal for me to wax and wane on how much I'm troubled by the explicitly Christian parts of this holiday. For those who say, "Well, it is Christmas," I can only point to history and the fact that many of the things we do at this time of year have antecedents (both calendrical and behavioral) from long before the alleged time of Jesus' birth. That's not to say that I think our modern holiday is entirely divorce-able from Christian history, but I think its origins are complicated and can be disentangled such that there is no reason why one has to assume there is an essence to it. On the other hand, because there is no essence, people can legitimately say they're celebrating it for any number of reasons (aesthetic pleasure, family and social tradition, theological identity, and so forth). All of them are actually found in people's reasons, and while many (especially, nowadays, Christian folks) claim that the holiday has A meaning, I think that history doesn't support their claims. It does, however, indicate that this holiday has been the subject of debate and contention for a long time, and that specifically Christian theological significance has become, in the past 150 years, one of the dominant ideas about it. But it's worth remembering that before 1800 many Christian denominations actually argued against celebrating Christmas, seeing it as nothing but a Christian veneer on a transparently non-Christian festival. I see no reason why the modern Christian claiming of the holiday is more legitimate than the 18th Century Christian rejection of it.

03. Anyway, I mention all of this because I love the holiday (though in my heart of hearts I wish it had a different name - I like Yule and Yuletide - and a different customary greeting - my preference would be Wassail!) and am really not feeling it this year. The past several years have not been good for Yuletide cheer in my household(s), although in the first year or two of my marriage there were more active attempts to engender it. The latter two years, though, not so much, and the holiday became nothing but a source of contention and even resentment. This year, so far, it's mostly kind of lonely and currently taking second place, emotionally, to the upcoming divorce hearing next Friday (the day after my birthday, of course). I spoke for a while with Romulus (who is recovering from his ankle surgery, and is very upbeat about it, both of which make me glad) about this on Wednesday, and he offered a great deal of moral/emotional support, which helped tremendously (that was a particularly difficult night, for some reason). One thing he said that I think was very apt and which coincided (strangely) with something in my Love, Death & Desire class is that he had simply decided to put on some Christmas music and act like he had the spirit, and then somehow that transformed into actually having it.

04. We've been reading existentialists in my Love, Death & Desire course, particularly Camus and Sartre (the seasonally merriest of the French depressing philosophers...), both of whom, despite their aggravating and depressing rhetoric and word choices, offer some interesting ways to think about having holiday spirit. One of the basic points of French Existentialism is that Existence Precedes Essence: we have no stable and ongoing core, and so we are constantly in a process of making and re-making who we are, formed out of the actual choices we make. We are what we do, basically. Romulus' point illustrates that very well, I think: by acting in a holiday mode, he was able to engender holiday moods.

05. I mention all of this because after talking with him I decided to be a bit more proactive and put on holiday music and maybe watch some of the TV specials that are available on Hulu.com, or films available for streaming on Netflix. I was particularly struck by an interesting dichotomy in them: some are focused on the idea of Christmas as being about Jesus' birth, and others don't mention that at all, instead they (thus far, usually) focus on Santa Claus. In both cases, though, whether it's baby Jesus or Santa Claus, the implications drawn are the same: generosity, good will, and joy. But the Santa-focused specials offer another interesting development. I'll use the Glee holiday episode as an example.

06. Though there were many subplots in the episode, one of the central ones was that one character, Brittany (a very, very psychologically and emotionally naive and odd character), still believes in Santa Claus. Her boyfriend, realizing this, tries to find ways to let her keep believing. But when they go to the mall Santa, her wish is that her boyfriend, who has to use a wheelchair, be able to walk. The mall Santa, in flagrant disregard for what should be standard policy, agrees. The boyfriend then gets another person to dress up as Santa and go to Brittany's house to tell her that Santa can't answer all wishes, and she's emotionally devastated. At the same time, the Glee Club has been struggling to find Christmas spirit throughout the episode despite major setbacks from everyone around them. The climax to both subplots occurs in sequence: the Glee Club carols the teachers' lounge (the only time I've ever liked the Who's Carol from When the Grinch Stole Christmas) and raises money for charity, and when they return to their choir room they discover that Brittany and Arty (her boyfriend) have discovered a "Rewalk" (a prosthetic device developed in Israel that allows parapelegics to walk for limited time while wearing a harness and leg braces) under Brittany's Christmas tree. Watching the episode, the viewer sees everyone trying to figure out where the Rewalk came from, and each option they think of is proven to not be the case. They eventually conclude, rather disbelievingly, that it was Santa Claus. But the viewer, with a different visual field, sees that the Football Coach (who had dressed up to tell Brittany that not all wishes are granted) is watching from the hallway, and it is left open to the viewer to conclude that the coach had provided the Rewalk (she's the only person seen who doesn't seem surprised by the Rewalk's presence). But this is never said directly or explicitly, and it remains an open question if the Coach was responsible.

07. Now, throughout the episode the only allusions to Christmas having a Christian religious meaning were oblique (primarily a Jewish character referring to the fact that her family doesn't celebrate Christmas), and the music performed was all secular holiday music. But belief in Santa was a major thematic focus, and was tied in repeatedly with the "magic" of Christmas. The Rewalk scene both confirmed that Santa is apparently magic and also that we make magic for one another (i.e., a human being, the Football Coach, had become Santa to grant someone's wish). Christmas is a place where performing miracles is the way to make miracles happen. This is, very weirdly, very much in line with the existentialist position I outlined above, and in line with Romulus' example/advice. This is, I think, why so many Christmas specials actually encourage us to be loving, caring, etc. in active ways: that's precisely how we become loving and caring, by acting out love and care (and it's one reason why there is such an emphasis in holiday specials to "keep Christmas with you" over the year: if this is a time when we're inclined to act more generously and lovingly, then it's a time when that sort of behavior can become integrated more easily into our everyday behavior).

08. My parents, Momula and Dadulus, used to have a caroling party each December 23rd, and I would dress up as Santa Claus for it (eventually in an incredible costume Momula made by hand, based on a description I wrote years before for a story). I loved doing it, and took it very seriously. I often thought about the moral issue that some people find in the Santa Claus idea: why lie to children about Santa existing? Doesn't it set them up for disappointment and set a bad moral example? But I think that's because we fall too easily into a very concrete idea of existence: if Santa Claus is "real," he is a physical being who lives in a physical house in the physical North Pole, etc. This leads to the problems of physics (see http://www.jimgeary.com/faves/joxe/JOXSCE05.HTM), which only work if one takes the idea as materially, concretely real. But if Santa Claus is real because we act him out, then "reality" is about behavior, not biological substance. And Santa is as real as we make him by being him. So, I say here, publicly (though not to everyone): I believe in Santa Claus. I've met him, several times. I've been him. And it was enough.

09. One final thought/topic for the day. I watched Christmas Eve on Sesame Street (the 1978 special) on Youtube (probably violating copyright by doing so, but my copy is packed away in a storage unit in Stanton, DE right now and not easily accessible). What always strikes me is a scene where Big Bird, who is concerned that Santa can't possibly fit down chimneys and therefore there will be no presents, is waiting on the rooftop of the apartment building where everyone lives. He wants to see how Santa Claus actually does it, but he eventually falls asleep. You, the viewer, see him sleeping, and eventually hear a faint jingling sound that grows louder, followed by a whooshing, crunching sound like hoof- and foot-steps, and then very clearly hear what sounds like a man getting out of a vehicle and walking towards Big Bird. At this point a human shadow comes into view, the person casting it moving to stand right in front of Big Bird. You never see who casts the shadow, and suddenly Big Bird wakes up. When he does, you see his perspective, and he's alone on the roof, but he says, "I just had the weirdest dream. I thought...but there aren't even any footprints." When he goes inside to warm up, and is discovered by the Sesame Street humans (who've been looking for him), they discover that Santa Claus has come to the apartments, though no one saw him do it. This is one of my favorite ways of depicting Santa Claus in film: by the effects of his presence, not by straightforward or direct witness. Glee touches on this in the scene I summarize above, because of course we never know if the Rewalk was purchased by the Football Coach. It's implied, but we don't know.

10. If we make Santa Claus real by being Santa Claus, we act like him by being mysterious and hard to pin down. We wear costumes, arrive and leave without anyone watching, disappear into another room from which someone else (not Santa Claus, obviously) emerges, and act without anyone knowing for sure it was us. We perform miracles, so that other people can believe in miracles, and if that is only because they don't see all the work backstage, it doesn't lessen the impact of the miracle. It doesn't matter if Dickens' Ghosts are real or just Scrooge's conscience finally waking up: what matters is that from that morning forth, he lives a different life.

11. I'm trying. It's particularly hard this year, and I know that that is true for pretty much all of us. I don't know anyone who isn't struggling this year (and that's often a struggle ongoing from last year). Most of us are short on money or security, many of us are caught in emotional conflicts or difficulties, and many of us are far apart from each other (and though I realize that we all have overlapping, not identical, social networks, I know very few of us are in close proximity to those networks' fullest development). If I had the money I'd give it away to everyone who needs it. If I had the emotional resources to bolster and comfort, I'd give it away to everyone who needs it. But I don't. It's cold outside, and the daylight dwindles a little further each day. But it only ends when we do, and sometimes we need to make the miracles we need to happen. I don't think of this as a theological truth so much as an empirical one: this is the time of year when the light comes back, and we just need to hold on until it does. And if that means acting jolly and merry in order to become jolly and merry, well, there are worse ways to act.

Thanksgiving and Hobamock

2010.12.04
Days Remaining: 178

01. This particular post has been continually deferred for the past week or so. I start bits and pieces of it, and then get distracted and do something else. It's now 805pm on Saturday night, and I would like to finish this before settling down for the night to read the novel for my Native American Religions course this coming week (Susan Power's very interesting The Grass Dancer).

02. Two Wednesday mornings ago, at 430am, I drove to Wilmington for Thanksgiving. Once more, the early morning (earlier, this time, due to it being a week day, than when I drove down for my mom's birthday party) trip took almost exactly 4 hours from door to door. Clearly my previous long-delayed trips to Delaware were avoidable if only I had been in the habit of leaving before the sun rises. Live and learn, I suppose. The trip back last Sunday, however, took approximately 7 or 8 hours due to traffic, all of which started in NYC (up to that point I was only going marginally slower than my trip southwards).

03. Thanksgiving is not my favorite holiday; until my mom and dad got together (when I was 15) I had never been a fan of turkey in any form. My dad's method of cooking turkey, however, changed that (he smokes it on a grill), and so my alimentary animus against Thanksgiving dwindled (it also helped that, as I got older, I came to appreciate mashed potatoes via gravy), though it never abated entirely. I still loathe stuffing and sweet potatoes and (shudder) green bean casserole. All of that said, this Thanksgiving was actually lovely. I stayed at Selena and Iunius' house, and Thanksgiving morning my various siblings and parents came over to have a leisurely breakfast (Pilsbury Cinnamon Rolls) and watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. I love spending time with the kids, and it seemed like everyone was very relaxed and having a good time.

04. Then the moving started, as we all helped mom and dad begin the move to their new house. We (several siblings and siblings-in-law + me) did 3 hours on Thanksgiving proper, then I did 6 hours on Black Friday (emptying the garage), then Selena and Iunius did an enormous amount on Saturday while I helped Aurelia and her fiance move into their new house (from Newark to Kennett Square, PA), then on Sunday Selena, Iunius and I did the rest (my eldest younger sister, Agrippina, helped throughout). On Saturday my parents hired professional moves to handle the large, heavy, wicked, difficult, frustrating furniture (the movers did a fantastic job, according to everyone who saw them work). So I participated in two moves in four days, and both were close to completion (only small things and cleaning left) when I drove home on Sunday. Moving is always stressful, and especially so over the holidays. I made it through with only minor injuries: several bruises on the insides of my arms (I'm pretty sure that was the filing cabinets, Aurelia - I shouldn't have been so stubborn about moving them myself!), a pulled muscle on the inside of my left knee (still tender), and a very sore right butt cheek (I have no idea how that happened). When I got back to New Aldwych on Sunday night I showered and then laid down to sleep for a very long time.

05. This past week has been fairly pedestrian, I suppose. I think a lot about the way that my life fits together, and one of my predominant working metaphors became clear to me this week: life as a filing system. I spend a great deal of time picking up ideas, images, words, texts, social interactions, etc., and then (an often even longer) time organizing them into a system. I have a bazillion bookmarks on my browser, for instance, thousands of PDFs of scholarly articles, thousands of books, hundreds of music albums, Word files, etc. My life is a library, and keeping it going in a clear fashion is a major undertaking. There are times when I wish I could somehow simplify it, but every time I stay in one place for more than a few days I begin to acquire books. This is what I do: I intake knowledge, either directly or in a deferred fashion (writing as memory-storage enhancer). Maybe what I love about teaching is the ability to share it again.

06. I was invited to sit in for a "Theories of Religion" senior-level seminar on Wednesday, which also involved lunch at a local restaurant (I had one of the tastiest chicken gyros I've ever eaten, which was nice). I really enjoyed it; the seminar was about 3 hours long, and it was very nice to be able to talk about theories of religion, their up- and downsides, and how to apply them to actual data with folks who know what we're all talking about (which, in this case, means the professor and the students).

07. Today I went to the Mashantucket Pequot Museum (which I heartily recommend: http://www.pequotmuseum.org/) with approximately 2/5 of the students from my Native American Religions class. Originally it was all 27 of them, but attrition (read: this is a Saturday near the end of the semester) slowly cut down those who could make it. Baskerville College (go hounds!) paid for it, which was nice. This was my 3rd trip to the museum in as many years, but I'm still always impressed by it, both as a museum and as a rhetorical statement by the Mashantucket Pequots (whose Native identity is still hotly contested among the larger population around here - it's astonishing how quickly and thoroughly anti-Native American stereotypes and sentiments flared up). Anyway, this time around the museum's exhibits were expanded so I got some new information, including a more detailed (though still sadly summary) discussion of pre-Contact Pequot ritual healing experts (powwows, as opposed to the pnieses, who seem to have been hunting and war-focused). The information was very sparse, but it included mention of the spirit being with whom powwows were most intimately connected, Hobamock (spelling of this name differs wildly).

08. Now, the northeast Algonquian-speaking Native American groups at Contact (1500s) gave us the word powwow, which has had two very different descendant terms that both worked in English, though one has fallen into disuse as much as the original meaning. The first was the expansion of the term powwow from the ritual expert to the healing ceremony (usually one with music and dancing), and from there to any ceremonial dancing ceremony. Thus one can find "Powwow Circuits" every summer; a cycle of dance ceremonies and competitions held on reservations all over the country, most of which are given by groups whose non-English language isn't Algonquian. The second meaning was again an expansion from ritual expert to ceremony, but it preserved the generally occult (religious or magical, depending on who is doing the talking) character of the word, and was used to describe a wide array (sometimes a "system") of folk ritual practices derived, logically given the Algonquian term, from German folk culture. This was due to a single book called Pow-wows, or the Long Lost Friend, a recipe and spell-book originally just called Der Lange Verbergorene Freund in German. Somehow, the English translator decided to append the word "Pow-wow" to it, and so the word now exists in American folk ritual practices, though it has dwindled in popularity with the rise of Asian, Egyptian, Near Eastern, Classical, and New Age influenced ritual systems.

09. Anyway, back to Hobamock. I was certain that I'd seen that name recently, and when I got home I did some poking around and discovered that Hobamock was the name (probably a nickname) of one of the Pilgrims' Native allies at Plymouth. He was a major opponent of Squanto's, and his name is often glossed as "mischief." That said, I had a great deal of trouble squaring that historical figure with the spirit being alluded to in the powwow exhibit at the museum. So, further digging confirmed that Hobamock is also a name for a spirit being relatively common among Algonquian-speaking Native groups of coastal New England (how far inland this went is unclear, but I would imagine most of the way since these groups were all in regular contact with one another). He is sometimes remembered in New England folk tales (Native and Anglo) as a sort of giant or tricky warrior, which is striking because in colonial times he was the figure most often translated as "Devil" by the Puritans! Turns out that he was a complicated figure, who often seems to have stood in symbolic contrast with the creator figure. The creator, for instance, lived in the southwest, and Hobamock was from the northeast (source of cold and wild winter storms along the coast). Creator's color was white, Hobamock's was black. So why was he the premier sponsor for powwows? Because, as I often emphasize to my students, that which can harm can also heal. The creator was pretty much a distant (physically and temporally) benevolent figure, and Hobamock was thought to be active in the world currently. He was often associated with snakes, but could change his shape and be invisible. He both caused and cured illness, and so when someone was sick the powwows would attempt to contact Hobamock and persuade him to remove the illness from the afflicted.

10. I mention all of this because this is a very common (as in, world-wide) way of conceiving divine power: as ambivalent. Apollo was as much a plague god as a healer in ancient Greece. The god of Israel smote and blessed, fairies can harm or help, Buddhist demons are benevolent so long as they're properly respected, and so forth. The desire to morally compartmentalize a deity into a "good" or "bad" frame is very much a theological imperative articulated by, in our culture, Judaic, Christian, and Islamic concerns with monotheism (where the only true deity is inherently good, and everything else is only as good as it serves him). So Hobamock (or Abbamacko, or Hobomok, etc.) illustrates what I think is a profoundly important theological corrective to Judeo-Christian expectations: the gods are neither good nor evil in much of the world; they're just powerful.

11. One thing that my students and I discussed today was the dearth of information on pre-Contact and early post-Contact Native American religions of the eastern seaboard. Even for groups with a history of their own writing and political independence (or successful resistance), such as the Cherokee, Choctaw, Creek, etc., the missionary activities of the Spanish and English were successful enough that we often have only fragments of what existed before. I think about the difference in Native American cultural products here in New England versus, for instance, in Oklahoma and points west, where the further west you go (until you hit Spanish mission country in California) the more likely you are to find people who grow up knowing the names and rituals associated with spirit beings (this is true even though the majority of Native Americans today are Christian). In Leslie Marmon Silko's (Laguna Pueblo) books, or N. Scott Momaday's (Kiowa Nation), or Susan Power's (Lakota), it's taken for granted that references to Changing Woman, or Tai-Me, or traditional ritual expertise, will be understood sufficiently to not be disruptive to communicating meaning. But no one here seems to have any living memory of Hobamock. It's all preserved in English historical writing, not personal memory. This is, to my mind, extremely sad. But the European invaders hadn't developed an idea of ethnography yet, and even if they had, the specific purpose of the specific invaders in New England was colonization and missionizing, not recording or understanding what was already there.

12. And that's about it.

Winter Is Coming

2010.11.19
Days Remaining: 191

1. My mom's birthday was this past Wednesday the 17th. Last week I couldn't mention these matters for reasons of secrecy. Now, however, I can post about all of this freely. My dad and sister, Selena, worked since July to organize a surprise party for my mom. My dad is not...adept...at keeping secrets, but he did this beautifully. Last Saturday I woke up at 430am and left New Aldwych at exactly 6am to drive to Delaware. There I met with my other sisters, my brother Decius and his wife and her parents (all friends of the family), and we drove together to the Wilmington-Western Railroad Station off of Kirkwood Highway. There we met with various other friends of the family. My mom had been invited to a train ride by my niece, Iunia, and so she thought it was going to be a nice afternoon with dad and my sister's family. When she arrived and we (all waiting in the caboose, which was reserved for the party) all yelled "Surprise," she was genuinely surprised. Even more enjoyable was that, due to the spatial layout of the caboose, she didn't see everyone at once, so she continued to be surprised for the next several minutes as she saw who was there. The train ride itself was lovely, and I enjoyed talking to my parents' friends and finally meeting Decius' in-laws, Lulula and Bubulus. After the train ride we returned to Selena's house, and then eventually went to my parents' favorite Italian restaurant in Wilmington, then returned to Selena's. I fell asleep during the hubbub, though I can't recall if it was between the train ride and dinner, or after dinner.

2. Sunday we went to breakfast and then hung out. My sister Agrippina brought her lovely dog, Lucy, to the house, and I got to hang out with her for a while. She's very charming and affectionate. Then I went to visit Iuno and Romulus (who is recovering from ankle surgery and is basically chair-bound for the next several weeks). Then back to Selena's house, where I had a very nice time talking with my those siblings and siblings-in-law present. We watched The Amazing Race together (it was striking how much of the watching was commenting on and critiquing the contestants), then eventually all went to bed. Monday morning we got up, Selena went to work, my mom came over and we all took Iunia to her kindergarten. Then I headed north, although I stopped at the local Jiffy Lube to get an oil change before actually getting on the road proper.

3. Some random observations from the weekend:
a. That day and start-time worked beautifully for getting to Delaware from New Aldwych. It took me almost exactly 4 hours, the travel time I've been saying for years is all the trip should take. In fact, I was tired and a little enervated when I actually got to Wilmington, so I stopped at a local Borders to stretch and walk around before going to Selena and Iunius' house. The trip back took much longer due to the fact that there was a lot of traffic, but thankfully no completely-motionless jams.
b. I have, for years, been buying toy animals whose purpose is to be played with by visiting nieces and nephews (when I was a kid I loved toy animals even before I loved Star Wars figures). Euander, especially, has developed a strong liking for toy animals. Though I have not lived in places where visiting is easy, the first time he came to visit I got the toy box out, and he made an animal parade all around the room, and for a couple of days after the visit was over I would find random animals throughout the apartment. I loved it; it's just what I wanted to happen. One of the big companies that produces these types of toys is Safarai, Ltd., and while I was in Delaware it occurred to me that their 2011 line might be advertised soon. So I got online and found a bunch of pictures of the various new animals (dinosaurs, dragons, mammals, etc.) and called him over. He was very excited, particularly by the three-headed fire-breathing dragon on the list. He asked about it several times, and Selena said that he had already asked Santa Claus for a fire-breathing dragon for Christmas this year. I was careful to point out that the pictures we saw wouldn't be available until after Christmas. Hopefully he'll remember.
c. Iuno and Romulus have two dogs, Kita and Libby. I'm allergic to Kita (though the severity of the allergies seems to fluctuate somewhat), and so when I visit them I have to avoid Kita, who is miserable being excluded from the room (though if she comes in and lays down far away from me it's usually okay - I feel very badly about all of this, she's a sweetheart, and my allergies are not her fault). I'm not allergic to Libby, however, and on Sunday afternoon/evening she came over and sat with me on the couch (sometimes next to me, sometimes on my lap). It was very, very soothing.

4. So, building off of those various observations, some general remarks. The new Safari, Ltd. figures are all pretty neat looking, from the dinosaurs to the modern mammals to the dragons. I have often observed, mostly when talking to Belisarius or Octavian or Iunius, that the animal toys nowadays are far superior (in terms of phyiological accuracy, detail, and variety) than those available when we were kids. This is also true of Star Wars figures, which are now much more detailed and more highly articulated (in terms of movement). I sometimes come across images (or even actual physical examples) of those figures, and I can't believe how much progress has been made.

5. For years I expected that, when the day came, I would be a cat owner. I loved dogs when I was a kid, and have had a fairly positive history with them, but my allergies were always a major conceptual barrier. But for several years now my allergies have either moderated (lessened) or modulated (no longer so consistent), and I've had good, directly-interactive, relationships with a series of other people's dogs, eventually culminating in my partial adoption of my ex-wife's dog, Herman. Belisarius has a lovely Basset Hound, Rosie, who will come and sit with me whenever I visit them, and Iuno/Romulus' dog Libby reminded me of her this weekend. My sister's dog, Lucy, is a total sweetheart, and my parents' neighbor's recently deceased (and greatly missed) dog, Chrissy, was also lovely. I miss Herman a great deal, and am still sorry that he and I got separated in the divorce. But in the long-run, some day, I think that I'll definitely be a dog owner again.

6. Update on the perpetual disaster that is the divorce process. I asked my ex-wife last week if the divorce papers had been served yet, as I hadn't heard from her about it, and she said no. The servicing-fee check I had sent, though, had been cashed. Then, I found the papers back in my mailbox, with a note saying "address not in our county." Back in September I had called the Tulsa Sheriff's Office to get the information I would need to send them the papers, and was informed that my ex-wife's address was in Wagoner County. So I called the Wagoner County Sheriff's office, the telephone representative of which confirmed that the address was in Wagoner. Thus began the ongoing back-and-forth of sending and returning papers. This time, it turns out that the address is in Tulsa County, but after speaking with Wagoner County Sheriff folks for about an hour on Wednesday, it became clear that they had no idea where exactly the county line was. In fact, even better, the Wagoner County Sheriff rep. with whom I spoke called around to other county's to see if they knew which county this address was in. There were multiple answers, but eventually we got consensus that it was in Tulsa. The downside is that, not counting Thanksgiving holiday, the Tulsa Sheriff's office has a 10-work days turn around time for processing papers. So the Wagoner County Sheriff's representative with whom I'd been speaking offered to take care of it, personally. I'm sending the papers back to the Wagoner County Sheriff, and they are going to call my ex-wife, who will have to drive (she agreed to this) a quarter mile into Wagoner County, where a Sheriff's Deputy will meet her and serve the papers. This should have been done and finished in October, mind you.

7. Classes are done for me until after Thanksgiving. When I planned this semester I had intended to attend the annual Society for Biblical Literature conference, which is always the weekend prior to Thanksgiving. However, as the semester progressed I decided to skip it this year due to time and money constraints, but I had already canceled classes for the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, so my students get a day off. I'll be heading to Delaware on Monday, where I'll stay through the following Sunday or Monday.

8. I just received my copy of Leslie Marmon Silko's Turquoise Ledge, and I'll be reading it over this weekend and into Delaware. I also heard an interview (on my still-beloved NPR - Republican criticisms be damned, and Juan Williams' dismissal being a real mistake on their part) with Salman Rushdie about his newest book, Luka and the Fire of Life, which is a sort of sequel to (or shares a world with) the wonderful Haroun and the Sea of Stories. It sound either banal or silly, but I love books. I love reading and I love stories. One of the least enjoyable parts of my current apartment is that, due to its very small size, there isn't actually a good place here to read (unless I'm reading from my desktop computer screen). Nonetheless, Silko is one of my favorite authors, and I've been waiting for the Turquoise Ledge for a month, so I'll make do.

9. And that's about it.

Solace of You

2010.11.12
Days Remaining: 198

1. No particular theme today, just a bunch of random stuff I've been thinking about over the past week. I figure for a Friday post, why not a grab-bag? If my story is disconnected and unorganized right now, at least we'll be able to see what I've been fragmentarily narrating.

2. The past few days I've had Yuletide on my mind; I've several times found myself almost playing Christmas carols on my iTunes, or humming them as I walk around. Christmas is my favorite holiday, and the past several years I sort of yearned for it earlier and earlier, probably as a comfort-seeking thing in the midst of my marriage. When my youngest sister, Silvia, had a stroke in December two years ago, and had surgery in NYC the week before Christmas, I spent an evening with her in the hospital, walking to her building across Central Park (Octavian used to live almost directly across the park from her hospital, and he and I had had dinner and hung out beforehand). After I left her hospital I walked to the subway station the long way (rather than taking a branch line and doing an exchange); it was the Winter Solstice that night, and I felt more serene in the cold, lamp-lit dark, walking through snow and over empty sidewalks, then, than I had for a long time before or since. I am not a huge fan of NYC (nice to visit, not interested in living there), but a snowy Central Park on the longest night of the year was something to behold. Today, while taking a break from grading (so much grading...) I poked around on Amazon.com and found a bunch of interesting Christmas albums that look interesting, most of them are by the Boston-based Christmas Revels but a few are by other groups, including two that are period-style Colonial American Christmas music, which I thought was neat. This is an exercise in what if, basically, frustration due to lack of funds, but I am balancing is and ought right now, to give myself something to aim for.

3. We had snow on the ground this past Sunday, though it burned off by mid-morning. I can't imagine living someplace where it never snows (or, rather, I can, but don't want to). Place is, in general, very important to me, but I am sometimes struck by how much my sense of "place" includes weather. Living in New England, excepting the obvious personal difficulties, has been very enjoyable, weather-wise. I like snow on a regular basis in winter.

4. Yesterday I had an uncomfortable incident in one my Philosophy of Religion class. (Due diligence: Belisarius heard about this in an email yesterday, so if you're reading, you can skip to topic 5, Catchpenny). As I've mentioned before, I open my classes with what I call "10 Minutes of Freedom" where the students can ask questions, or raise issues, about anything at all. Today I let that go far beyond 10 minutes because the majority of students (roughly 15 out of 22) were actively engaged with me and each other on the topics, and those particular topics were ones I found very interesting, namely the state of education in our society and, growing out of that, questions of how to effectively address problems on a campus (or in our society). I kept an eye on the class as this proceeded, because we were definitely cutting majorly into allotted class time for the actual topic (philosophical accounts of life after death - sounds interesting, really isn't). Then, when I said, "We really need to get to the readings now" I had a student stand up and make some sort of dissatisfied noise as she headed for the door (n.b. she left her belongings, so she wasn't ditching class suddenly). She then said, "I'm just really frustrated because we're not talking about the readings and we've got papers coming up and I'm just really frustrated" (I'm paraphrasing). I said, basically, "Well then, sit down, as we're going to go over the readings now." But she had to go to the bathroom. The moment she walked out, the rest of the students (who all looked very embarrassed) started back on the preceding topic, so I let them add final comments until the frustrated one came back in, at which point we went to work on the readings for today. So, I'm torn, basically, because I chose to let the off-topic conversation go on, and I spoke with several students after class who said that they actually found it really valuable. But on the other hand, it was a departure from my normal procedure and the class topic. On the third hand, the frustrated student had the option, at any point, of raising her hand and asking about the readings. I'm more annoyed that she said nothing until she made a very public scene, given that the whole enterprise was being driven by students asking questions and responding to them. But I'm also defensive about it, since this felt like an implicit ad hominem criticism of me, couched in terms of not preparing my students for papers they have to write (btw, they have two weeks to write the essays, during which time I take drafts and respond with lots of comments, so they're not simply cut adrift). Meh. I'll be chewing on this for a while.

5. Something else class-related (though very tangentially). I got an email from my Philosophy Dept. Chair forwarding a call for undergraduate essays for a special issue of a journal focused on love. My initial thought was that this would be great, but then as I read through the call I saw that they were looking for essays responding to a particular book, and when they gave suggested topics, it had nothing to do with my Love, Death & Desire class. I was, however, intrigued by the book they were organizing around, and so I did some poking (via the wonders of Google Books and Amazon.com), and found some very interesting stuff. I often, when I've taught a class for the first time, come to the conclusion 2/3 of the way through that I would do it completely differently if I taught it again. This is, so I'm told, fairly normal for professors (though I am something of an inveterate tinkerer - my classes are never completely identical from one offering to another). In this class's case, I took it over from a professor who is on medical leave; she's been teaching it for quite a long while, and it's an established part of the Philosophy Department's course offerings. Given that, I opted not to radically redesign it for this one semester, as I wanted the students to be able to engage with those who came before and after this semester on shared ground. I stand by that decision, but as often happens to me, I start to think of courses I teach as "mine," and with the stuff I found when motivated by that call for papers, I have been tinkering in my head with radically redesigning the course. Since this is my last year at Baskerville College, this is an entirely theoretical exercise, but I really enjoy course-building as a mental practice, so forward I go.

6. One of the most interesting things I discovered was that the very famous (and justly so) cultural and literary theorist bell hooks (deliberately uncapitalized as per her wishes) has been working on the idea of love in our society for some time (I knew her primarily for earlier work on deconstruction and postmodernism). From what I gather (there are several different books dealing with different aspects of this project of hers), she is suggesting that our society has been suffering from an over-focus on love as desire (and therefore selfish). Basically, we need to remember the other-focused type of love, love as acceptance and nurturing. She says this is a different type of love than desire, and one that we're sorely lacking. This struck a chord with me, because I've sometimes had moments when I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of how much I love the people in my life, and sometimes how much I love everything, how much beauty and value there is in the world and the people in it. I am, however, not following through on that in hooks' terms, because I don't use those moments as spurs to greater social activity. But I can feel, at least a bit, what she's talking about. There is so much hate and antagonism thrown around, and sometimes, she says, the best response is to love back.

7. And that's it.