Tuesday, December 13, 2005

A little snack

St. Nicholas brought us little packages of chocolate coins and peanuts in the shell. One of the roommates (P) stored hers at dachshund level, but in her room (she keeps the door shut). Yesterday B came downstairs with a handful of peanut shells and gold wrappers which she had found in a tidy little pile just inside our room (dachshund territory). Sam had taken the peanuts and coins, transported them to our room, unwrapped and shelled the goodies (the remains looked like the work of human hands), and enjoyed the spoils. But the big question is: did he carry them one by one until he had enough for a feast, or did he consume each item immediately after bringing it to his lair, and then return for more?

Monday, December 12, 2005

The Chronicles of Narnia

Mrs. Bear asked what the proper order of The Chronicles of Narnia was, so here we go:
1. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
2. Prince Caspian
3. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
4. The Silver Chair
5. The Horse and His Boy
6. The Magician's Nephew
7. The Last Battle
Narnia needs to be entered through the wardrobe, just like Wonderland and the looking-glass. Then, after you've read the first four books, it's so fun to be dropped back into "The Golden Age" (golden ages are always visited from a sadder time--otherwise you wouldn't feel the goldenness as much). And almost at the very end, you're suddenly back where it all started, and mysteries from the first few books make more sense. If you read it in chronological order (which Sapientiae Amator--following his general trend to the perverse--insists is best), you lose a lot of the mystery and delight.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

O food, where are ye?

I've been wandering around like a lost soul all today (apart from the time that I've been passed out, sleeping off my cold). The reason is that although I went to the store a few days ago and spent way too much money, I don't seem to have anything to eat. I bought Clementines, which I don't want to eat because the last three have tasted funny (that might be due to the cold, or else my rich inner life). I also bought cider to make mulled cider when friends come over, and a hot cup of the remains is now keeping me company. And I must have bought pickles, because my salt intake has recently skyrocketed. This is actually good, because my drinking problem had been getting out of control (again, due to the cold making my throat feel funny). My roommates have tried to get me to seek help ever since the time that I made them smuggle in 2-gallon containers of Ozarka when I was in the hospital, but I still think that I only drink because I enjoy it (I admit that I do over-imbibe at parties, but who doesn't?). Anyhow, I haven't been quite so thirsty of late, which means that my electrolytes are recovering.

I was just angrily asking myself why I had so frivolously spent my money when my self, in an injured way, reminded me of the pound of ground beef in the fridge. "There it is, lean, defrosted, totally ripe for being turned into taco meat (ideal for taco salads)." I was somewhat taken aback, but after further pondering, I've decided that I don't have the moral energy required to turn a pound of raw ground beef into seasoned taco meat. And I'm comfortable with that. The oracle at Delphi suggested knowing thyself, and since I've clearly accomplished that, it's time for a little rest, a little folding of the hands in sleep.

High level dissent

Perhaps the most amazing thing about Jung Chang’s and Jon Halliday’s new biography of Chairman Mao is that they were given access to what must have been extremely high level party archives. They quote Mao’s diary, personal letters, disillusioned poems from his second wife, high level telegraphs, etc. The telegraphs, especially the early ones, are usually to or from the USSR, so they could have just had access to the Soviet archives. (By the by, saying that the CCP was the USSR’s marionette before 1949 gives the CCP far too much autonomy). But many of the other things could only be in Chinese archives, and as they tend to be the most explosive evidence against the myth of Mao, it is clear that they have been well guarded. There is a note saying that the authors are unable to give a list of the Chinese archives which they consulted. They have clearly been allowed to see things which the official regime would not have allowed.

There are three options. The first is that the authors have lied. This seems unlikely, but perhaps someone who wishes to go through their massive bibliography could prove otherwise. The second is that there are high level officials who want to prompt liberalization, and allowed the authors access to force the regime to change. Something similar happened five or six years ago, when politburo memos from the Tiananmen Square protests were leaked to the west and published. The other possibility is that this is all incredibly involved strategic maneuvering planned by the heads of the party to manipulate the country and the world in order to increase China’s global significance. If Mao were still in charge, this would be the most likely option. And I think the present government would still be able to shame Machiavelli. A UN inspector was recently allowed to investigate charges of torture in China, and was also allowed to find evidence of torture. In the end the report was still favorable to the central government, though. It stated that the torture was continuing despite the central government’s efforts to stop it, and that the government had had some success, as torture was less common now than ten years ago. (The report is still a very good sign—the regime must know that the people will find out about it through the internet, so it seems like a true commitment to end torture.) Or perhaps a mixture of the last two options is best: that the authors were allowed some access, but were not supposed to have found as much as they did or to have been so merciless towards the cult of Mao. All of these options--except the first--would be really good signs for China.

Having said all of this, I can’t imagine that the CCP is happy with the book. It destroys their founding myth, and since Mao has never been censured (as Stalin was), this is a grievous blow. If people actually read this book (and it is extraordinarily readable), it will be a harbinger of a new sun over China.

Dramatic irony

I wrote a letter to the editor of our school newspaper recently, and the idiots published it with a paragraph break at the exactly wrong point, thus ruining all the irony which the letter had been building up to. They honestly could not have more inept, and it’s extremely frustrating to know that the maimed letter is sitting in the newspaper with my name under it. (But I do wish I had put the very last sentence in a new paragraph—it is a new topic).

However, my youthful joi de vivre did succeed in making them assume what no bartender or liquor salesman has ever since I turned 15 or so—that is, that I am younger than 21. When the letter appeared, it was signed by me, “junior.”

Exhibit A (straight from the author’s pen):

Dear Editor,

I gather that the article “Love and _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _” (November 23, 2005) is intended to refer to the recent mainstage production of “Love and Intrigue.” It is indeed admirable to have said so little, even when given such a small space. In fact, there are only two keys to the content: the eight blanks in the title (i-n-t-r-i-g-u-e) and the burbling about Schiller in the nether portions of the column. I can understand such coyness when reporting on a production on the hill that must not be named, but surely our author does not dread being put on a hit list if he gives facts sufficient to ascertain the subject of his musings.

He could have mentioned the magnificent costumes. Or the overtly slimy secretary and his boss, the subtley creepy prime minister. Or the pathetically eager father, who has lived without romantic love so long that he can’t understand his daughter’s need for it. Or the dramatic irony in the last scene, when center stage is occupied by the torn pieces of a letter which could avert the entire tragedy. In fact, the only thing we learn from our erstwhile critic is that he seems troubled by dialogue of more brawn than that of a reality TV show. Of course the play would have been better if all words of more than one syllable were elaborately pantomimed for the vocabulary-challenged. Good acting will always make up for the audience’s deficiencies. This is the kind of criticism which will challenge the Drama Department to rise on the stepping stone of its lesser self to become a better and higher thing.

Exhibit B (Poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio.):

[Everything’s the same up to the last three sentences:]

… In fact, the only thing we learn from our erstwhile critic is that he seems troubled by dialogue of more brawn than that of a reality TV show. Of course the play would have been better if all words of more than one syllable were elaborately pantomimed for the vocabulary-challenged.

Good acting will always make up for the audience’s deficiencies. This is the kind of criticism which will challenge the Drama Department to rise on the stepping stone of its lesser self to become a better and higher thing.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Pemberley

After JFK was shot he was rushed to Pemberley, where I have spent many happy hours sitting in uncomfortable chairs in overcrowded waiting rooms. Pemberley is usually populated by semi-catatonic residents and very poor people, so it is odd to think of Jackie Kennedy waiting in one of those chairs.

6th Floor Museum

I went to the 6th Floor Museum today. The 6th floor in question is where the sniper was when he shot JFK. Oddly enough, I found it very interesting, and I think one could easily find a Soviet Communist plot behind it all. Here are a few of the fishy things:

1. The three shots were fired within 5.6 seconds, but they were fired from a regular rifle, not a machine gun, so there would need to be time to reload.

2. Lee Harvey Oswald had been trained in the Marines, and held a rank of something like “sharpshooter” in rifle usage. Unfortunately, they don’t tell you if that rank was expert, middle, or immediately above footshooter. Apparently the range made accurate shots extremely difficult, particularly with a moving target (this is from one of my students who was in the army in his home country, and was trained in this kind of thing—part of the tour is where you look out the window to where the car was driving by).

3. Oswald defected to the Soviet Union in 1959, and became a Soviet citizen. Yet he was allowed to return to the United States in 1962, accompanied by his Russian wife. Nikita Khrushev had liberalized the USSR to a certain extent, but Russian citizens were still not allowed out on a whim.

4. Oswald was killed by a man who was supposedly enraged by the assassination, and who also wanted to save Mrs. Kennedy the agony of testifying in a trial. This is more believable because his work had made him particularly sensitive towards women’s emotional needs (he owned a strip club). His ties to mafia members just show that mobsters can be patriotic, too.

Now, I do think the museum was set up be people who like conspiracy theories. And unfortunately, they did not give the proofs that one would need to be fairly certain. And it’s true that I really like Communist plots, but I did go into the museum thinking that Oswald killed Kennedy without assistance, so it was a pretty dramatic turn-around.

Something fishy

Two days ago, someone pulled a dirty trick. The sidewalk looked about the same, but as soon as my paw touched it, I knew something was wrong. It was slippery, and I wasn’t sure if it was cold or hot—all I know is that I felt safer on the welcome mat. My person said it was just fine, but that it would be better to walk on the grass. She rushed away without thinking it through and before I could answer! But I had to follow her to make sure she didn’t get in trouble. Everything was very strange, and I don’t think she really understood. She never understands—that’s why I have to be so vigilant. It’s good that I was there, too, because the grass wasn’t there any more. Instead, there were sharp, crunchy little things—maybe they were strips of paper. It smelled a little bit like grass, but it also smelled like those white cubes my person puts in my water in the summer. Anyhow, my person insisted on walking all over the yard, so I decided to make the best of it. I took care of some pressing business, and then checked up on the local animal gossip (I have to make sure that the squirrels and birds aren’t getting into trouble.) But my mother always said that if I do my duty, I’ll never go unrewarded. (I’m lucky I had such a good mother! Otherwise, I’d never have known my duty towards my person and small animals.) And it’s true! Each of my good deeds was rewarded with A Possibly Tasty Something lying in the ice/grass. I’m not sure what they were, but I snaffled them up as quick as I could.

My person and I disagree about Possibly Tasty Somethings. She says that I should look at them carefully before eating them. But I just don’t feel comfortable seeing the world that way. I have to throw myself all the way into life. I can’t stop and sniff around it first. And if the Possibly Tasty Something turns out to be not-good for me, I can always throw it up in my bed. In fact, I like this part best. At night my person stays in the same place for so long that I get worried and sad. If An Actually Not Tasty Something escapes in the bed, she jumps up and gets really excited, and then I get happy, too. I love it when we can be happy together.

Sam (as dictated to Flannery)

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Back and Forth

Background: there are eight inches of snow back home.

Two days ago it was nippy even with a heavy coat on. Today the high was in the low 80s. There is a rumor of light snow tomorrow morning. At some point I will be excited by the mere presence of change. As it is, I will just brighten up the brown Texas landscape with a bit of envious greenery.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Okay

I haven't been able to find anything from Pope Benedict XVI re: Harry Potter other than an old letter from when he was cardinal, so I think it is a red herring. Everything that I said in the last post is worth pausing over, yet the worst case scenario is just that you might have to talk to your children about their reading (awful prospect) or else not base your own conduct on Harry's (if only I'd been told sooner). The most likely scenario is that his self-righteous posturings will become somewhat wearying after a while.

And in the putting-things-in-perspective department, the fact that J.K. Rowlings doesn't understand the difference between good and evil puts her in the company of the rest of our post-modern secular society. In fact, she's ahead of many since she seems to think there is a difference, even if she can't put her finger on it. So she is certainly no worse than your average newspaper, newsmagazine, etc., and as she is not peddling goodthink, she is significantly better. And although a child would easily become scarred by reading Ann Landers regularly, I really don't think anyone will be scarred from Harry Potter.