The confluence of events, or one might say, my wyrd, has conspired that on the very day I am attending a reconstructed live performance of Beowulf, I learned about St. Chad, who is the alleged patron of elections. Ever dutiful in my pursuit of truth, even at the cost of a delightful pun, I looked into this matter. According to truthorfiction.com, there is no patron saint of elections, which is suitable: elections, after all, in the hands of God, preferably via the High Priest using the Urim and Thummim. Saint Chad, or Ceadda, however, is a real person, probably the youngest brother of Cedd (also sanctified), Cynibil, and Caelin. The alliteration of the names is an Anglo-Saxon practice, but their etymology is Celtic, suggesting a mixture of (presumably aristocratic) Celtic blood into the Anglo-Saxon ruling class. All four brothers were ordained, and two (Ceadda and Cedd) became bishops. While the careers of the brothers bishop is worthy of note, the more important data here is the two domains of the paternally-connected patron saints. Ceadda became the patron saint of astronomy, while Cedd became the patron saint of interpreters. The vagaries of English diachronics ensured some confusion between the two, and either could be construed as Chad (note the later spelling), patron saint of elections.

I have been preparing for this evening's live performance of Beowulf by rereading passages from my glossed text of Beowulf. A glossed text is anathema to serious scholars, but has certain advantages. The reader is more engaged in the text than he would be when distracted by paragraph 11.17 of the grammar or technical terms. A glossed text might work better when the reader already knows the story. The glosses in this edition do not resolve the kennings, but rather allow the reader to familiarize himself with the typical components. The actual plot of Beowulf is spare, so much of the beauty of the poem is in the style. The constant variation of components for indicating the same item is a vehicle of poetic utility, but I do wonder if it is not the ancestor of some modern English style. Could the admonition of high school English teachers that one should not use the same word for the same concept multiple times in a row owe some of its force to the love of inventive language seen throughout classic English literature?

People's Republic of Parasitism

In the course of my daily wanderings, I acquired a New Amsterdam Times. The international section contained an article on the latest shipment of food and aid to North Korea from the South.

The amount of food is paltry compared to the needs of the country, but the international implications disturb me. Ordinarily, I would extol feeding the hungry as a virtue, but the discord between the North Korean philosophy of juche and the begging of the North Korean government is stark. The Kim dynasty uses foreign aid as a way to propagate its regime while claiming self-sufficiency. Although the Christian aid groups behind the food delivery have noble hearts, the North Korean distribution mechanisms ensure that the food will go to those whose loyalty matters rather than those who are the hungriest. The suggestion of localized distribution is ananathema to a regime which believes in power and half-hearted Potemkin villages. Clothe the peasants, not the emperor!

A Poem

Westfield dome on Friday night
Near the Playstation exhibit
Fools dancing to neon lights
To Mama Commerce is the profit.

Unto the Third Generation

In light of Kim Jong-Eun's promotion to four-star general and official heir apparent (as official as it's going to get, anyway) and the simultaneous promotion of his aunt, I started thinking about the inherent stability of hereditary tyrannies, of which the government of North Korea is an excellent example, and remain skeptical about the duration of the regime. Regencies are dangerous times for any dynasty, and military support during such times can be a destabilizing force. On the other hand, the North Korea military is in a favored position, so it might contribute to a stable regime.

The history of tyrannies, however, does not inspire optimism. Most tyrannies collapse in the third generation if they have not already been overthrown. There is no chance that the North Korean populace will rebel - in fact North Korea reminds me of Apokalyps - but power struggles are possible even within a one-policy state. The economic structure of the country is so damaged that I suspect it will collapse quickly and messily when the final straw is loaded.

The Doors of Perception

Oct. 21, 2010:
One of the items in the paper today (yes, I still occasionally read the dead tree daily) is the announcement that archaeologists have discovered . what may be the oldest door in Europe. The Methuselan mahogany is estimated at five thousand years old, and hails from Switzerland. The locale of the find is not surprising, since the lakes of the Helvetian Republic have revealed many archaeological treasures. The chief archaeologist, Niels Bleicher, describes the antediluvian door in somewhat effusive terms. Certainly, the door must have been sturdy to weather five millennia of environmental abuse, but I do wonder: how much of the description of ancient artifacts is in self-defense. I prefer stairs to cellar doors, and would hesitate to dismiss an artefact as insignificant due to its basic utility, but hoi polloi might well say, "Who cares? It's just a door, even if it is well-made." Yet it is the simple things of a culture that tell you the most: individually wrapped slices of synthetic cheese and unbiquitous redundant and downright insulting instructions tell you more about American culture than the the abstract of an ivory tower thesis on trash. The facile dismissal of ordinary things, although the result of knee-jerk anti-intellectualism, can lead to an equally erroneous reaction of overstatement. The archaeologists, in counteracting the public dismissal, place a greater emphasis than is warranted on their discovery. Although this reaction is not restricted to antiquarians (since everyone who believes in reincarnation wants to be a king, not a catamite), it seems that the more "ordinary" the object, the greater is this tendency.

2010 Canoe Trip

NOTE: This should have preceeded the post on camping in the redwoods.

Last weekend I went the annual canoe trip with the Junior Woodchucks. This account is of necessity redacted and changed to protect the names and identities of the (sometimes not so) innocent. Sadly, there are no postable pictures, even ones of yours truly. The Russian river was its usual temperature and color (warm and slightly green), and the contingent of Woodcraft Indians was smaller than I would have liked. This year, however, lacked the swarming invertebrates of last year's trip. Luch was absurdly early, as usual, but that's the boys' call, not mine. The pullout for the canoes was a little too narrow and steep, and there was not quite enough shade. I pulled some water from the river, trusting in my iodine tablets.

In many spots along the river, there was choice: overhanging bushes where thhe current ran, or shadeless shallows where it did not. Fortunately, I had recently and finally disentangled my broad-brimmed hat (not a petasos, sadly) from my travel wallet, which had had remained in such condition since my return from the western Mediterranean, so the spiders in the bushes did not get in my hair.

There were the usual mishaps characteristic of a river trip, but my new dry bag held up admirably. I did not witness every rescue and recovery on the trip, but the two incidents in which I was involved were resolved satisfactorily. In the former case, all the equipment was recovered, and soon the spirit of the unfortunate pair recovered as well. The latter case was harder, since it involved a swift current and large branch; more than one person lost their grip during the operation and had to fight their way back upstream, but eventually the canoe was freed from the embrace of water and wood.

Some other campers had rather unsportingly taken some of our spots when we returned to our campsite next to the Pomo general store, but I suppose some people just don't have a sense of fair play. In any case, we adapted and consolidated and still had enough table for our food groups. The campfire that night was short, since the skits were done according to food group rather than patrol. Everybody already knew the traditional songs, so I was not as creative as I could have been, but I hope I made up for that on Tuesday.

On Sunday morning, we did not continue down the river, as we once did, but we did have a Scout's Own by the river bank. The seating was uncomfortable, but we had a nice discussion of the wildlife we saw on the trip, led by our own Daniel Carter. A stone skipping contest followed the Scout's Own. The swarming insects through which the stones were bouncing had a peculiar obsession with purely vertical movement which still baffles me.

Merks and Turks

The integration crisis in Europe is continuing, both in France and Germany. The absurd and arbitrary nature of French clothing "restriction" has already been covered in this blog, but the most striking recent comment came from Germany's Angela Merkel, who claimed that the Turks in Germany must assimilate to Germany's Christian culture. The failure of assimilation or cultural synthesis is not in doubt, but what was most astonishing was this: that she claimed Germany's culture was Christian. Everything I have experienced and read about European culture suggests that Germany is not Christian, but secular. The Swiss incident earlier this year involving the minarets reinforces this impression. The French, of course, have turned secularism into a religion, although they have mellowed a little since the days of the Revolutionary calendar.

Recently I had a discussion with a friend, who is very religious and seeks the same. One of the attitudes which drives her batty is "culturally religious", in which the alleged member of a particular religion or sect does not hold the associated beliefs, but even ignores the practices. One cannot look into another heart, but one can examine the deeds.

When Merkel refers to German Christianity, she is using "Christianity" as code for "secularism". Although this secularism does not mesh well with the radicalizing form of Islam which the previously rather secular Turks have adopted, using the term "Christianity" is facile misdirection and as intellectually dishonest as American preachers who use "Christianity" as a term for the insidious "Gospel of Wealth".

Redwood Grove Camping

There's nothing quite like a redwood grove for camping. It might be a bit dark beneath the giants (even the new growth), but the canopy provides the closest thing to a good roof that you'll find in the wild. The sparse ground covering is a blessing when you are clearing the area for your ground cloth, and the patches of redwood duff, if you can find them, are delightfully soft. Redwoods, however, feed off the fog, so make sure you have good rain gear!

Beginner's Assyrian

My New Year's resolution is preceeding in fits and starts (sometimes precipitated by my absent-minded professor habit of forgetting where my books are, and sometimes by the plethora of projects on which I am working) but I have begun Beginners' Assyrian, trusting in the similarities to Biblical Hebrew to give me a leg up, not under any illusion that the differences would present challenges.

The first challenge, of course, was the gross mismatch between the radical-based Semitic morphology of the Assyrian language and the determinative- and syllable-based orthography of cuneiform. One of the motivations for the adoption, if not creation, of the Semitic writing system (I suspect) was this mismatch. It was as if the problem with English transcription and translation in both Chinese and Japanese were combined!

The second challenge was the Assyrian reduction of the proto-Semitic consonants under the influence of Sumerian, which possessed a radically different morphology. I had thought the non-pronounciation of 'aleph and 'ayin in Modern Hebrew (which I had been using as my model for pronouncing Biblical Hebrew) created enough difficulties. Assyrian, on the other hand, witnessed the collapse of six proto-Semitic consonants (and waw) into near-indistinguishable phonological effects. Since Assyrian is a Semitic language, however, the tridical structure applies, even if two of the consonants are so weak as so to disappear entirely!

The third challenge was the tendency towards vowel harmony in Assyrian, which appeared also in its sister dialect of Babylonian. Sumerian had vowel harmony, possibly mitigated by tonal differences, but even Hebrew shows evidence of morphologically-specific vowel harmony. Babylonian was the language that replaced Sumerian in that language's ancient heartland, aand thus experienced the greatest level of vowel harmony (although not to the extent that it destroyed the typical Semitic structure), and Hebrew experienced a very low level, but the effect on Assyrian lay between the two. One has to wonder how much of the vowel harmony within the Assyrian Empire was the result of the infamous deportation policies, which mixed many tribes who spoke similar Semitic tongues; thus they shared structural similarities but not necessarily vowels.