...Is Reverent

What does it mean to be reverent in a society with multiple mutually incompatible religions? One can't believe everything about all of them. Even if one does "mix 'n' match", as it were, some core idea is going to be central to your beliefs; and in a multi-culti environment, some cross-fertilization is inevitable.

Reverence starts first with respect for the beliefs of your family and community. Please note that this is not necessarily the same as your personal beliefs. This environment, nonetheless, for good or ill, affects your world view. You should strive to understand what your religion believes, no matter how bizarre it may seem to you, because without understanding you may falter on the next step. It is unlikely that everybody in your community believes exactly the same thing, and you should learn about religions and ideologies other than your own. (A book on world religions is handy at this juncture). You may find wisdom in unexpected sources. You will learn that often two people can reach the same conclusion from different premises, and different conclusions from the same premise, all while maintaining a human level of rationality. The key here is to understand that some people in your community sincerely believe and have reasons for their belief.

So after you've read up, ingested, and ruminated, what next?

Absolutes and Absolutions

            In the sixth book of Virgil's Aeneid, Aeneas the initiate finally reaches his father in the Underworld and is ready to learn the secrets of the cosmos. Aeneas needed no expiation, only the original Hell House exhibition, because he is, as the poet firmly insists, 'pius', The soul of Anchises, Aeneas' father, is contemplating the souls of the purified in a pleasant valley by the River of Forgetfulness. In this holy place, Here Anchises explains the cycle of expiation and rebirth, governed by the One Above All, the Unmoved Mover. This single governing force might seem at odds with the bickering pantheon of the Aeneid, but the trip through the Underworld has already demonstrated this rigidity is not part of the cosmology of the Aeneid. The world is vast and contains many perspectives, from the fading ghosts of the Stygian shores to the eternal torment of the Titans and irredeemable mortals, to the cleansing and reincarnation of reclaimable souls. Neither the Sibyl nor Anchises can claim absolute knowledge; the former received her knowledge from Hecate, of which only a part is revealed to Aeneas, and Anchises, as a virtuous soul, never suffered the torments of expiation.

            There is a possibility that a modern audience might see a monotheist element in Anchises' cosmology. Although this perspective is not entirely wrong, especially from a diachronic, or historical trend, view, the modern sensibility is far more based in dualism than that of the Imperial Roman period. The distance between polytheism and monotheism is not a bright line in the sand, but a continuum. Islam and Judaism are indisputably monotheistic; is Christianity? If it is, which sorts of Christianity does one include? The theological perspective in this portion of the Aeneid is somewhere between henotheism, in which there are many gods, of equal or near equal power ("thou shalt have no other gods beside me") and monotheism ("thou shalt have no other gods besides me"), in which there is one. But then, a cult into which one must be initiated in order to achieve rebirth is unlikely to focus on a plethora of gods; the most likely number is one, and it is unlikely to have more than three. The universalist perspective of Anchises' cosmology is a unifying one, designed to soothe Aeneas' constant anxiety from the continuous conflict in his life and an aspirational one for the future generations of Romans, including those who comprise Virgil's contemporary audience. Jupiter and Juno are currently at odds, but they will reconcile and share patronage of the Roman race; Venus will see her descendent Caesar conquer both lands, lads, and lasses; Neptune will allow his domain to become Nostrum Mare, "Our Sea," to the Romans. Yet  none of this is intended to deny the potency of the Roman pantheon in the preservation of republican and imperial power. The worship of the gods is essential for political stability, but spiritual comfort will be sought more and more in the belief in a unitary power, whether that be Augustus Divus or Sol Invictus.

Et In Arcadia Nos: The Hymn to Hermes and the Hymn to Pan

        The overall structure of the Hymns to Pan and Hermes are parallel; the comparisons serve as a scaffold to highlight the contrasts, Both exist within the framework of a Homeric hymn and therefore introduce a god from his birth and highlight at least one story associated with him. The structure of these two Hymns, however, is carefully parallel in cast and plot: the cast consists of a father, a mother, a divine baby, a god who takes the baby to Olympus, and Zeus, either alone or in council. The plot is as follows: the father 'mingles in love' with the mother; the mother gives birth to the baby; the baby displays divine characteristics; a god transports the baby to Olympus; the baby is accepted by the gods and gains a "Big Brother" among the Olympians.

        The similarities should be addressed first, so that the contrasts may be better understood. The conception and parturition of each god is couched in similar verbs of birthing and accomplishment of goals. Each god immediately displays characteristic powers: the art and invention of Hermes and the startling power of Pan. The action around the babies is characterized by swiftness: Hermes' motions and sojourns are described with many phrases denoting fleetness; the Hymn to Pan, because it is much shorter, incorporates more fleetness into the syntax and prosody than the extant vocabulary. Apollo brings baby Hermes to the throne of Zeus, while Hermes brings baby Pan to the council of immortals of which Zeus is the head. Both babies are ultimately accepted as gods (although Pan is not an Olympian) and both acquire a Big Brother among older immortals - Apollo in the case of Hermes and Dionysus in the case of Pan.

        The contrasts between the Hymns are many. The preconception, conception, and birth of Hermes use an extensive vocabulary of secrecy. Maia is a loner whom Zeus meets at night specifically when Hera is asleep. The grown Hermes, in contrast, has a wedding, a public event, to the daughter of Dryops. The here unnamed daughter of Dryops, perhaps Penelope (but not that Penelope), bears Pan in a palace, rather than the cave in which Maia gave birth - even if that cave was akin to a Gilded Age cottage! The onomastic patterns of the mother and the father also contrast: Maia in the Hymn to Hermes is a daughter of the otherwise unknown Megameidas and frequently appears by name in two declensions, while the mother of Pan remains unnamed save for her patronymic. Hermes, once he is born, is a classically beautiful god, whom Maia places in vain in his cradle; Pan frightens his mother so much that she immediately flees after she has borne him because she is afraid of his unlovely face and prematurely bearded appearance. The daughter of Dryops' increased vulnerability to the power of a god may be due to her potential mortal status: nymphe may refer to an immortal young woman or an ordinary mortal bride. Hermes, although he is a god, consorts with mortal shepherds such as Dryops, son of Apollo, Hermes' BFF. Perhaps, though, giving birth to the Arcadian Jersey Devil would throw off anyone, mortal and immortal alike. The way in which baby Hermes and Pan display their precocious adulthood also differs: Hermes remains a baby in size but indulges in adult activities such reiving, so much so that Apollo deems him competent for trial, whereas Pan displays adult features but has the characteristic lack of agency of a day old baby. This may be why the introductory segment of the Hymn to Pan where he is an adult is about the same length as the story of baby Pan panicking his mothers - the adult behavior necessary to characterize Pan is displaced to a portion where such behavior can be covered. 

        Baby Hermes' first trip to Olympus is as a prisoner for crimes which he has indeed committed, but Pan's first visit is a formal presentation. The gods who choose to act as Big Brothers to each baby also contrast. Apollo, as a god who values order, is a brake to Hermes' relatively chaotic nature, while Dionysus is an enabler to Pan's rustic partying. The humor in each Hymn is appropriate to the god: Hermes' humor may be occasionally crude but is always clever, while that of Pan is the world's worst game of peek-a-boo. The role of mortals in the Hymn to Hermes is extensive if secondary to that of the gods - the Old Man of Onchestus receives two divine visitations - but the roe of mortals in the Hymn to Pan, although mandatory due to Hermes' affiliation with mortals and immortals alike per his own Hymn, is reduced and backgrounded.

        The points covered above are by no means the entirety of the comparisons and contrasts between the Hymn to Hermes and the Hymn to Pan, but they are sufficient to demonstrate the interrelationship between the texts. This is particularly relevant if the Hymn to Pan is a later response to the older (but not much older) Hymn to Hermes. The study of these two Hymns would benefit from further examination of their shared vocabulary and even etymology.

Primary Sources (Greek first, English second)

Hymn to Hermes

http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0137%3Ahymn%3D4

http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0138%3Ahymn%3D4

Hymn to Pan

http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0137%3Ahymn%3D19

http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0138%3Ahymn%3D19

Dionysus, Semele, Bromius

 The anapest is a metrical foot that not only reflects its own nature of two shorts and a long, but also matches the initial syllables of the names of the Bacchic cult. Both Dionysus and Semele form anapests, as does Bromius, the most common appellation of Dionysus, under common metric conditions. Admittedly, Bacchius does not form an anapest. The question then arises: does meter dictate the names or do the names guide the meter, or is it a matter of reciprocity? Are there instrumental factors of which we are no longer aware? 

Heaven and Earth

 A feature of the myth of Dionysus which is likely to escape non-etymologists is the origin of the name Semele. Semele is an adaptation of the Thracian Earth goddess Zemele, cognate with the Greek word khthon, although it is not surprising the Greeks, hobbled by prejudice and the infant science of etymology, would not recognize it as such. Not only did the Thracian language lack the aspirated consonants (kh, th, ph) of Ancient Greek, but it was also a satem-language whereas Greek was a centum-language. This difference caused the sound which developed into kh in Greek to become z in Thracian. If Semele is Zemele, not a mortal but a god, then the union of Zeus and Semele is not a forbidden liaison between divine and mortal, but a union between heaven and earth, and Semele is the peer of Rhea or Demeter in the Bacchic rites by nature not merely by apotheosis.

A Singular Story

I have finished the Singular book When Men Become Gods about the FLDS communities on the borders of Arizona and Utah. The only time I was near those towns was back in grad school, when I went on an Episcopal mission trip to the northern edge of the Navajo Nation. That was an interesting trip, but it had nothing to do with polygamy. Polygamy is a fundamentally unbalanced social mechanism; the assignment of many women to one man excludes the other potential husbands from marriage unless you swap women around like oxen and she-asses. The assignment, and especially reassignment, of women, eviscerates any pretense of a system of family values; but there are politicians to the left of the FLDS who are equally hypocritical, if not on such a grand scale. Polygamy especially does not mix well with the founder effect, but perhaps a polygamist society could overcome this with overbreeding, the Eleventh Commandment as it were. In the backstory of the FLDS and its steady reduction to monarchy or tyranny, I was surprised that nobody brought up Samuel's denunciation of the concept of kingship.

Back to the Brigade?

Written on June 19, 2018. A follow-up post will arrive after sufficient research.

In recent years, there have been numerous groups that have claimed that the Boy Scouts of America have lost their claim to be "morally straight" and formed their own organizations. This is, of course, their right. The phenomenon is fascinating, but scarcely new. One feature I have noted that these organizations share are that they are implicitly or explicitly religious-based, specifically Christian, if not even more narrowly denominational. These groups are, in fact, correct in claiming that they hearken back to the early days of youth organizations, but they are wrong (for the most part) in claiming that this Christian youth group mentality was the purpose of the BSA.

Many of the original troops were groups of boys from the YMCA, which at that time was a Protestant organization, but the primary motivator here was threefold: first, that's where the boys were; second, that's where pre-built facilities were; third, the YMCA was already an organization committed to the moral improvement of young men. This was functionally no different than the current reasoning that encourages troops and crews to use church basements and social halls as meeting spaces. The perceived Protestant element was so strong, however, that the Catholic Church forbade its boys from joining until 1913.

The Scouting movement already established in England had addressed this issue: although the initial testing ground for the Scouting movement had been the resolutely Presbyterian Boys' Brigade, of which there were Anglican, Catholic, Jewish, and Pacifist iterations, the Scouting method was designed as a religiously neutral method of training boys, and the Boy Scouts, once founded, maintained that neutrality. The self-organizing principle ensured that many groups were religiously homogeneous, often because they were also units of the Boys' Brigade or equivalents. This was also a reflection of the more segregated religion of the day, except in the military, from which Baden-Powell came. Baden-Powell and Brigadier Smith, the founder of Boys' Brigade worked together for many years, but the split, one of many among the promoters of the booming youth program movement, was on the relatively passive role of religion with the Boy Scout organization. Baden-Powell was adamant that duty to God was a matter of individual conscience and therefore could not and should not be administered by external forces within the Boy Scout organization. Smith, whose initial inspiration to form the Boys' Brigade had come from the union of Sunday school and military drill, could not countenance such sloppiness. This was hardly the only ideological rift among youth leaders, but the military and political aspects are topics to be discussed another time.

It is worth noting that neither of the predecessor organizations in the United States, the Sons of Daniel Boone and the Woodcraft Indians, placed explicitly denominational requirements on their members. This ecumenicism (for non-denominational, sadly, has now come to mean "very specific denomination") carried over to the BSA, although it seems that many people could not wrap their minds around the concept except in terms of military training.

Nowadays there is an organization called the Troops of St George. It is Catholic, somewhat military ( partly through expediency of Army/Navy store supplies in Texas), and incorporates father-son elements similar to the YMCA's long-defunct Indian Guide program. The truly distinguishing paraphernalia, however, is the Rosary. Although the organization is not linked to the military, nor are troops within the organization required to practice drill, the assumption of a military rank system and the explicit religious element are a return to the days of the Boys' Brigade, or in this case, the Catholic Lads' Brigade.

https://troopsofsaintgeorge.org/troops/

https://boys-brigade.org.uk/

http://www.bgbrigade.com/

http://www.thefullwiki.org/Sons_of_Daniel_Boone

http://history.oa-bsa.org/node/3039

http://vintagekidstuff.com/yguides/yguides.html

Foundation

The Foundation series by Isaac Asimov is a seminal series in the history of science fiction. Unlike other series of its day, it is focused on dialogue rather than action. Although the Foundation series was not the first to be planned out.. The Lensmen series by E. E. "Doc" Smith has that honor, but whereas that series uses military escalation on an exponential scale to lead to the final confrontation between cosmic Good and Evil, the Foundation series shows a gradual plan to reduce the Interregnum between the First and Second Galactic Empire from thirty millennia to a mere one thousand years. The escalation in the Lensmen series is wholly military and quite repetitive, while the progression in the Foundation series takes abrupt turns but also maintains its central conceit. The later books of the Foundation series explore the fatal flaws of the previous Foundation books, but this post is about the first book, also called Foundation.

Foundation is a compilation of  the first four stories in this universe, plus a framing story that functions as an introduction. In-universe, there is already a framing device, the Encyclopedia Galactica, which manages to be simultaneously the most intriguing and the most frustrating reference guide created up to that date. It is a literary device that places much (but not all) of the exposition otherwise delivered in Golden Age science fiction by the designated mouthpiece, thus stopping the flow of the story, into a format in which exposition is expected but not conducive to a dialogue format. The inspiration for the Encyclopedia Galactica was Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, which does indeed have this style of dialogue. At the same time, however, the necessities of drama create lacunae where a real encyclopedia would be at its most useful.

The framing story, "The Psychohistorians" a recounting of the young mathematical star Gaal Dornick with the elderly and illustrious Hari Seldon, founder of psychohistory, is more substantial than many framing stories for other collections that followed. It fleshes out the nature of the Empire at the time of the foundation of the planet Terminus at the edge of the galaxy. The composition of the Encyclopedia, a massive undertaking in a Galactic society more than twelve millennia old, is used as the rationale for kickstarting the process of a shortened interregnum. Dornick, Seldon, and the Commissioner of Public Safety Chen are adequately sketched out for a framing story, but there is not extensive characterization. If you do want a fleshed-out version of the founder of psychohistory, you should read Prelude to Foundation and Forward the Foundation, two books written in the twilight of Asimov's life. The details of Trantor, the Imperial capital, have not weathered well scientifically, and were subject to revision by Asimov himself in the aforementioned books. The story is well-written, but does not have the punch that the individual stories have.

The second story in the collection and the first published, "The Encyclopedists", lays out the important concepts of the Foundation series. The Empire is losing control of the Periphery, although it has not yet admitted to it. Scientific research is dead - the current generation of 'scholars' considers reading the secondary sources adequate. Even the Encyclopedia Galactica is a compilation of previous knowledge - possibly an inspiration for the Library in David Brin's Uplift Universe? The Encyclopedia Foundation on Terminus, despite its own regurgitation, is actually in a better condition than its neighboring kingdoms, where technology appears to have gone into freefall. The characters of the Foundation series are neither heroes nor villains, but merely people who have convictions upon which they act. Salvor Hardin is not a good man, but he is the man Terminus needs. Pirenne, the chief Encyclopedist, is a straw man. Lord Dorwin not only shows the absence of original research in the Empire but also speaks with an comic accent that would be unacceptable today. The conclusion of the story is not really a conclusion - the deus ex machina, provided by a holographic Hari Seldon, confirms Hardin's authority over Pirenne's, but does not explicitly provide the answer to the Seldon Crisis (another concept which this first story fleshes out), a situation that has developed until there is only one solution. The story ends with the statement that the solution to this crisis is obvious; the answer is not given until the second story. This is fine in the current collected edition, but it would be enormously frustrating to contemporary readers who, one presumes, were not informed that this was the first part of a planned series! Thus "The Encyclopedists" is a framing story that establishes a new universe through two forms of exposition and does not contain a proper ending. And yet it sold well enough to justify a sequel!

The third story in the collection, "The Mayors", explores the use of religion as a coercive force. As stated above, the solution to the first story is given in the second: Terminus now controls the surrounding kingdoms by cloaking technology in the guise of religion. The upper classes of the kingdoms, in turn, control their populaces by using the technological religion. The older generation does not believe in the religion except as a means to power, but the younger generation, raised in an atmosphere soaked in this religion, is not so confident. Religion within the Kingdom of Anacreon becomes a proxy for a power conflict, in homage to Byzantine politics. The floating throne is also a Byzantine contribution (although the Byzantine mechanism was obviously not nuclear). Hardin, as a representative of Terminus, understands the power of religion in Anacreonian society and uses it to defuse the political crisis. Hardin's character has not changed in the thirty years since "The Encyclopedists". He is still a pragmatist leading a government that pretends to be idealist. The Regent of Anacreon, an ambitious man in the guise of a pragmatist, is strongly implied to have murdered the late King of Anacreon. The teenaged and as-yet uncrowned new King of Anacreon, Lepold I, understands the benefits of power but not the delicate balance that entails. This story, at least, ends with a proper conclusion.

The fourth story in the collection, "The Traders", takes place at a later time, when the states beyond the original Four Kingdoms have seen the dependence that the Foundation's religions have created within the Four Kingdoms. Several states have banned missionaries lest their states follow the Four Kingdom's descent. The principal of this story, Ponyets, a trader motivated by profit rather than patriotism or religious zeal, is not from Terminus, a reject from a seminary. The citizens of Termius still do not think of him as "one of them." Ponyets is sent on a mission to Askone, a region which forbids the use of atomics, the very technology in which the Foundation specializes. Fortunately for our protagonist, greed is universal and blackmail is a time-tested tool. The Askonian Grand Master would lose his life if he revealed the hypocritical source of his new wealth. At the same time, however, the scalability of Foundation technology, or rather, lack thereof, indicates that this brand of snake oil salesmanship can no longer be a primary tool in the rise of the Foundation.

The fifth story in the collection, "The Merchant Princes", shows the rise of the merchants over the mayors and the priests, exemplified by our protagonist, Hober Mallow. The Four Kingdoms no longer have any pretence of power - its governments are now part of the Foundation Convention and the nobles are disinherited. Mallow is dispatched to the Republic of Korell, a de facto hereditary dictatorship. Mallow passes a test involving a trespassing missionary using his knowledge of the Seldon Plan. This makes Mallow look bad to the Foundation populace but endears him to the Commdor of Korell. The limited power source of Foundation technology, a liability in "The Traders", is an advantage here, since the Commdor wants to sell atomic beads as jewelry, and an expiration date guarantees repeat customers. The more important feature for the Foundation universe in this store, however, is the realization that the Empire is still at the center of the galaxy and still powerful. Mallow visits Siwenna, a planet on the edge of the current Empire whose history illustrates the weaknesses of Imperial power - the generals of the Empire are more interested in stripping the provinces of raw materials than keeping order, so the general populace cannot rely on even a minimum of security. This story also features the first contact between the Foundation's miniaturized technology and the Imperial technology, which still uses bulky materials as though it still controlled the entire galaxy. The discovery of the existence and power of the Empire leads Mallow to the conclusion that the Foundation will not win against the Empire in its current political configuration, but first he must survive the legal challenge that his handing over of the false missionary has precipitated on Terminus. So there is another change in the government of the Foundation, and a shift from survival in a world of petty states to anticipation of a conflict with an equal or greater power which is not susceptible to the previously used means of control.

Since this is the Foundation universe, military force is less important than sociology, but the Imperial illustration of that must wait until the next collection, Foundation and Empire (one of the tricky aspects of the original Foundation trilogy has Second Foundation as the third book!).

Earth Days

It was a busy weekend, but that's normal for Earth Day. Although our merry band pioneered (pun intentional) the Good Turn, its adoption by the District and Council is a mixed blessing. The powers that be decreed that the Good Turn should take place on the weekend of Earth Day, so we went down to Milagra Ridge between South San Francisco and Linda Mar to remove Scotch broom. There were fewer of us than I had hoped, but I assume the absent contributed to Earth Day elsewhere. Scotch broom has vivid yellow flowers and is much prettier than the bane of my early service project days, ice plant, but it grows quickly and the native animals and insects do not recognize Scotch broom as a suitable habitat. The natural enemy of Scotch broom, sheep (Scottish or otherwise), are not a good solution, since they would eat much more than the Scotch broom. I remember when I first saw Scotch broom in its native Caledonian habitat - it took a moment to remember that in these lands it was not a weed to be exterminated. The sheep, with their heavy wool coats and tendency to block the road, were a much greater threat to humanity.

The ridge was steep, although not forbiddingly so, and covered in both Scotch broom and poison oak. Certain members of our party, being more sensitive to poison oak, were not eager to charge into the thicket, much less rig a hammock and nap there. I'm not terribly sensitive to poison oak, so I was not greatly worried, but the GGNRA volunteers had magic outerwear called TYVEK suits. These suits reminded of hazmat suits without helmets, but they were made of paper, albeit a sturdy kind. The clearing took more energy than I had anticipated, but the results of our labor were satisfyingly visible.

After we had finished our share of weeding, we hiked to the cliff edge and ate lunch. We could see Linda Mar, the controversial golf course, and Pacifica in the distance. The tunnel through the hill below us was not yet open, but its presence prompted much conversation. Our return to the city ended a simple outing, but one that has inspired the attendees.

On Sunday, I went to church, where one of our own, rather than the absent pastor, preached the Word. Apparently I am more comfortable than she with Atonement theology, but the ability to disagree is a wonderful feature of my home church. The one thing that really bothered me, however, and this is not the fault of the church per se, since the words were Bob Marley's, was the reference to "the Daughter" in the communion hymn. I have no problem with emphasizing the maternal qualities of the Godhead - it serves as a reminder that God "the Father" is way of describing God's behavior so that our finite minds can grasp it - nor do I object to the nurturing, maternal qualities of Jesus, who, after all, compared himself to a mother hen, and the Holy Ghost always seems too abstract (for lack of a better term) to cause gender-bending chaos, but I cannot understand why anyone would describe Jesus as "Daughter." Provocation? Perhaps I am looking at this through a prescriptivist lens, when it is meant as a stimulation to discussion.

After church, I went downtown for a concert at Notre Dame des Victoires (I had forgotten about the plural article). I stopped at the church, but not to pray - I could not see the crowd thronging into the church for the concert. As it turned out, the concert was in the school auditorium, not the church proper. I had never been inside NDV before, and never before had I realized how cramped the facilities were for jocks (I was a bookish child and would have been fine).

Romney's Run 2: Religious Rhetoric Run Rampant

As I was browsing the news this week, I noticed an Pew article that claimed Americans think there has been too much talk of religion in this election cycle. The sources for the article seem to have a rather limited view of the term "American," since it talks almost exclusively about supporters of Romney or Santorum. In short, Romney's supporters think that there has been too much rhetoric about religion, whle Santorum's supporters think that there has been too little. The difference between the two, it seems to me, is how far the individual supporter conflates religion and political ideology. Romney's membmership in the LDS is a stumbling block for many evangelical voters, but Romney's heretical tendencies (in the eyes of evangelicals) does not change the fact that the LDS is a powerful, monied, and socially conservative organization which evangelicals would otherwise love.

Even if Romney's views about the nature of the world are heterodox, Santorum's religious affiliations are also problematic. Perhaps Santorum does not feel quite as vehemently about non-Christians as the pastor with whom he recently associated. If, however, Santorum still desires the evangelical vote, a pastor who would rather expel those live in darkness than lead them to the light of Christ might not be the best companion in adversity. This is not a left-right matter: Obama, when he gets around to campaigning, should not associate himself with Louis Farrakhan. The subtext of this pastor's comments is racism, and there are plenty of non-white Evangelicals in the US who might be deterred from voting Republican a

The Illustrated Man

To call Bradbury a science fiction author is insufficient; it conveys an impression of fascination for technology which he lacks. Bradbury's prose contains a bucolic note, a nostalgia for a rural world long lost, one never known to the science fiction readers playing stick ball on the streets of New York. In this corpus, Mars is not so much a physical place as it is a metaphysical Faerie, and the fear, hatred, and misunderstanding of women by his male protagonists a reflection of an old-fashioned but stunted model of masculinity. The science takes a back seat to verbal magic.

The first story in The Illustrated Man, "The Veldt," is an effective evocation of the savagery in the infantile breast. "Kaleidoscope" suffers from the impotency of the characters (I hesitate to call them protagonists, since they do not and cannot effect any change.) "The Other Front" has some rhetorical power, but suffers from the attenuation of historical change - in this case, the elimination of Jim Crow. Perhaps this story would resonate more strongly for contemporary minorities. "The Highway" displays a nice prose style, but depends too much on the context of the era in which Bradbury wrote it. "The Man" displays the pros and cons of any mid-20th century story involving religion (always Midwest Christian, of course). The idea of the cosmic Christ is intriguing, but all writers who attempt it are too coy for the original audience and too obscure for the current audience. "The Long Rain," set on a Venus which serves as a complement to Bradburian Mars, is a depressing, if compelling, narrative, whose characters slowly decline in the fashion of military stories. "The Rocket Man" illustrates Bradbury's theme of emotional alienation, but may contain the truth of a sea widow's life. "The Last Night of the World" is a mood piece. "The Exiles" features a literal literary Mars. It shows Bradbury's use of Mars as The Other Place, an Aristotelian rather than Platonic externalization of censorship fears. "No Particular Night Or Morning" is the most extreme example of the theme of alienation - the protagonist cannot create emotional attachment to his past self or even what he has made. This ends as well as one might expect. "The Fox and the Forest" is a solid but not extraordinary fugitives-in-time tale, and does not cater to Bradbury's main strengths.

"The Visitor," once again set on Mars, this time a futuristic leper colony, shows the destructive impulse of forsaken men. The gynophobia of many of Bradbury's characters appears clearly here when the William's unusual talent becomes an analog for both food and sex and Williams himself is called "a wife," which means (in in-universe terms) he must be dominated and cannot be shared. "The Concrete Mixer" features an atypical Martian invasion, but I have yet to understand the theme. "Marionettes, Inc." is a fine horror story - I believe it was adapted for The Twilight Zone. "The City" is an effective Cold War-era horror story about revenge and death. The distance, however, is out of proportion to the theme, and might encourage the impression that science fiction writers have no sense of scale.

"Zero Hour" is a tale of children's sight where adults are blind. It is a warm and fuzzy tale with a cold underbelly. "The Rocket" is a bittersweet story of a father's love for his family and the sacrifice of his greatest dream. The last story in the collection, "The Illustrated Man," did not engage me - it is a rather weak framing device for stories that are considerably better and more effective.

Parish Retreat 2011

On the first weekend of November, I went on the St James parish retreat. I rode up after work with Petrina and Roger, so I missed the cocktail hour (it was an Episcopal retreat, after all). As we came up the driveway to the Bishop's Ranch, a strong unidentified smell overwhelmed me, Finally, I realized that the smell was manure – I'd not visited the proper countryside for so long I'd forgotten the smell! There were four groups at the Ranch this weekend – our group from St James, one from St Ambrose, a group called Women of Wonder, and an AmeriCorp group stationed at the Ranch for six weeks. Although we'd missed cocktail hour, we hadn't missed Compline. For those unfamiliar with the term, Compline is a Christian evening service, the last of the day, in which one reflects and winds down.


The morning was cold and misty, unlike many I remember from BREAD (at least the misty part – I've been at the Ranch when it's cold.). After an organic breakfast, there was a plenary session led by Anna Eng, whom I had met before, on the Art of the Relational Meeting – the sort that leads to progress towards a goal and that is sorely lacking in the contemporary political sphere. Eng's use of the term “agitation” for “stirring of the imagination” seemed a little strange, just as the term “enable” in the EDGE method acronym reminds me of Alcoholics Anonymous. The blacksmithing workshop had filled up well before, so I went on a hike with Ullrich the jovial German and several others. Since we were out in the field when we decided to take an extended hike, and the map was hardly to scale, there was some debate where we were. We took Treehouse Hill Loop to Turtle Creek Lane, and up the dirt road towards the lake (which I have yet to reach). We crossed Turtle Creek, but had to stop at the second ridge because there was a dead sow on a truck. Apparently the sow had been tearing up the grounds of the Ranch and the management had called the pig hunters from Swine Country (company name) to eliminate her. So we chatted a while, and I took some pictures for the Scouts. It had begun to rain, and we couldn't have reached Lower Lake and returned in time for lunch, so we headed back to the refectory. We passed the gate to the Russell Ranch, went past the Peace Pole (what a bizarre structure) and back to the refectory.



After lunch, during which I bought a book by an Episcopal female priest on Marian devotionals (the book itself is difficult to describe, especially since I have not started to read it properly), I chatted with a fellow parishioner. Our philosophies differed dramatically, as you might expect from a dedicated Scout leader and a conscientious objector. It reminded me a little of the Hard-Travelling Heroes, except that I'm inclined to side with Hal than Ollie. Later, I went to the Ranch House. I found Carole Jan Lee's book of show tunes on the open piano. I couldn't resist. After a few false starts, I chose a song and began to teach myself how to play “I don't know how to love him” from “Jesus Christ Superstar”. The song resonated with me, but I'm scarcely the first to empathize with the Magdalene. Even later, I played Bananagrams (R) with some other parishioners, but the faults of Scrabble (R) which the former game aims to correct seem to me the strengths of the latter.



After dinner, the main event was square dancing: square dancing is an excellent activity for a church retreat – it's family-friendly, but still allows every level of public behavior up to flirting. The man and women of each couple were of compatible height, but the very family-friendliness of square dancing made a right-and-left grand with six adults and two short children. The caller explained the origin of the periodic stomp: although stomping is extremely satisfying, its original intent was to remove the manure from your boot. After we had covered the basics, the caller taught the grand square. I was dragged (not wholly unwillingly) into the grand square with a woman I'll call Blonde, Busty, and Beaming for lack of an actual name. A grand square is quite complicated, and probably becomes more difficult with sufficient imbibing, but BBB and I managed our part well. Other couples were significantly more confused. H., one of our St James parishioners, injured herself during the Cotton-Eyed Joe that followed the square dancing and preceded the evening's closing waltz.

Father David led Saturday Compline, using a poorly mimeographed sheet from the infamous New Zealand Prayer Book. The New Zealand Prayer Book can be disorienting, since it incorporates Maori traditional oratory, which differs greatly from English rhetoric. The New Zealand Our Father is called a translation, but expands to much for me to call it such. It is an exegesis, and one which I would like to examine further before endorsing it.



After Compline, several parishioners retired to the ranch house living room to play the game Celebrities. I had never played this game before. It was something like a cross between Charades and Musical Chairs. The game mechanics were fine, but a combination of the age divide among the players and a paucity of contributors to the pot threw the match.



On Sunday, we attended a more conventional service in the chapel. Every time I have gone to the Bishop's Ranch, I have forgotten that it is a functioning parish church and has its own congregation. I kicked a ball around with one of the kids. Then it was time to go home to the city with Ryszard and Elia.

Romney's Run

There's been a lot of talk recently about whether Mitt Romney is Christian. Romney's membership in the Church of Latter-Day Saints does not endear him to the Evangelical Republican base. From the standpoint of the "mainstream" churches, also, Romney is not in fact Christian, since Mormons follow a second revelation of Jesus Christ, and a new revelation is the sign of a false prophet. The Republican reluctance to endorse Romney, however, is a bit surprising: the Evangelical Right is willing to work with non-Evangelicals and non-Christians in movements such as the pro-life movement. The confusion, it seems to me, stems from a conflation of two roles: the leader of the Republican Party and the President of the United States. It would be interesting to learn if the controversy over Romney in any way reflects the discussions during the Kennedy campaign.

Copts and Mobbers

The recent news that Egyptian mobs attacked a Coptic church distresses me greatly. The excitement of the Arab Spring has faded, when Egyptians were united against Mubarak, and normal, ugly political discourse has reasserted itself. The fundamental problem with many rebellions is the lack of a cause for which it is fighting. Attacks on Copts are not a new phenomenon in contemporary Egypt, but such rioting and unrest provides a pretext by which the allegedly provisional military government can cement its base or weaken its opposition. If the mobile vulgus is busy attacking non-Muslims (in which case Christians will have to do in the absence of Jews), then it cannot attack the true and established opposition.

Sales & Services

Written before the trip:

I'm flying to St Louis tomorrow for Archon. It's also Rosh Hashanah. I'm not Jewish, but I know how important the High Holy Days are in the tradition. I've also been listening to NPR, one of whose segments focused on the financial straits of members of synagogues. If I have understood the situation correctly, this is the time of year when many temples collect membership fees, partially via the sales of tickets to High Holy Days services, but many Jewish men and women who in better times readily paid for their tickets cannot pay this year. Although I'm sure it's a mitzvah to provide a ticket under these circumstances, the idea of selling tickets to a day of obligation is very strange. It's true that my Anglican tradition used to rent the forward aisles to various prominent families (including some of my ancestors), but the entire church was never declared off-limits to humbler and poorer congregational members in good standing! I find it hard to believe that the Jewish tradition would deliberately discourage Jews from going to temple, so I must be missing some element here that is clearer to one raised in the faith tradition.

Canoe Trip 2011

Recently, we went on the fall canoe trip on the Russian River. The group was a little top-heavy in terms of age, but bonding is bonding. The trip, sadly, is no longer a two-day water trip, although it is an overnight - every night you pitch a tent counts for camping! We embarked below the campsite, and headed out. I'd been practicing my oar strokes in a wooden canoe on a relatively sheltered part of Lake Tahoe, so it took a while to adjust to the current and a battered (but fortunately not leaky) metal canoe. My power was better than my control, but my old sailing instructor at Tahoe could have told you that. The water in the river was much higher than the warm, green, scummy ride of last year, and the riverine topography now included additional broad shallows that extended under the bushes. This is a trip on which I am glad I am shorter than the average Caucasian male! We ate a bit later than I had anticipated, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Yes, there were swamped canoes and at least one lost paddle, but nobody was hurt in the process.

The campfire in the evening featured songs, skits, and yells, including a canoe-themed skit. No doubt the boys , were they writing this, would spend more time on the campfire than I shall. The next day we awoke and breakfasted. Since we can no longer do the stretch from Asti to our campsite, Sunday has become a day for some early fall skill advancement, in this case knots. I trust this stood the Scouts in good stead at the next meeting, where they worked on lashings.

The Scout's Own format has evolved somewhat, and now there is a Scout perspective as well as a parent speaker. I like this structure, because it gives the Scouts ownership over the service (I don't know what else to call it) without obscuring the focus of this part of the trip. If the Scout's insight varies from the superficial to the profound, I could say the same of a sample of homilies.

Credo and Quechua

Recently, I went to a talk at St Dom's on changes in the English translation of the Mass (I always did wonder why the Catholic CHurch, which should know its Latin backwards and forward, translated the first word of the Creed "We believe"). All the talk of why the Creed uses "we" or "I" and how Christian know what they know made me think, and not just about the Creed itself. On Memorial Day, I took a road trip with a friend and a priest, a man of Quechua descent specializing in indigenous theology.

Now, Quechua is a tongue with both clusivity and evidentiality. Clusivity is a recurring linguistic feature of this blog; it's the difference between we = you and I (inclusive) and we = I, but not you. Inclusivity (and, I suspect, a desire to separate the Church from the "personal Jesus" Evangelicals) was the goal of the inaccurate translation of "credo" as "we believe". It seems to me that if the Nicene Fathers had intended the first person plural they would have used it.

They certainly chose to use it in the phrase "crucifixus etiam pro nobis" "He was crucified for our sake" (a benefactive!), but how is it rendered in Quechua? It happens that I don't read Quechua well enough to tell which form "muchurqa" is (the Creed is never a fair comprehension st, since one already knows what it says) - I know more about the verb forms than the pronominal ones. It could go either way - inclusive to indicate that God's plan of salvation is for all, or exclusive to indicate the authority of the Catholic church. If I want to know, I suppose I'll have to find a Quechua grammar and dictionary. I did find this link:
http://www.yoyita.com/Quechua/Rosario/Inini_credo.php

The other interesting feature is evidentiality, the mandatory marking of how you know what you know. These epistomological endings, I expect, would have an impact on the composition of the Creed - one of the reasons the Pirahã of the Amazon have not been converted is an unwillingness to belive in more than second-hand information. Some languages have more flexibility than others in evidentiality, and I believe that Quechua is on the harder end. I wonder what Aquinas looks like in Quechua!

Hebrew, Hebrew Everywhere

This morning at church, soon after the service had started, the Hebrew words within me rose. It is a peculiar sensation, and perhaps one applicable to me alone, that once I learn a sufficient amount of a language, the words arise unbidden in appropriate contexts. The trigger this time was the Hebrew/English Sh'ma, in Max Helfman's setting. Once my mind was primed, it was easy to think "Shalom aleichem" at "Lord be with you". If you have learned some basic Biblical Hebrew, the linguistic structure of the Psalms (in this case 27:1, 5-13) is glaringly obvious. My mental translation is partial and in places doubtless ungrammatical, but it is remarkable how many phrases in the service are automatically translatable - I already have switched from hearing 'Alleluia' as a rote response to an imperative plus the Name of the Most High.

Gender Matters

All too often, English-speaking students of European languages detest the "gender" (really noun class) systems of the language, and in seeking to dismiss that which they neither understand nor love, declare the system irrelevant. A system of noun classes, whether composed of three or fifteen sections, may be confusing to second-language learners, but the distinct features of a language are never irrelevant to its native speakers. Pope Benedict XVI's recent announcement about the use of condoms illustrates this point. The original book was written in German, the native tongue of the Pontiff, but translated into Italian. In the German, the word used to indicate rentboys and their ilk is "der Prostituierte", a masculine noun, but in Italian, "la prostituta", a femina noun. The use of the masculine noun in German led some to assume the Pope was referring solely to the members of the Theban Legion, while the Italian use suggests it applies to women alone (since Italian, true to its sensual nature has specific words for male companions). Although a quick glance at LEO reveals that the German masculine noun may encompass both genders, much to the dismay of the feminists and Riistoj, this error in understanding shows the distinctions which noun classes provide to their tongues.

(For those of you who must know, the Pope said his comments applied equally to the sexes, and condom use is merely a lesser evil than sentencing a fellow human being to a slow death through your own carelessness).

Camaldoli, Camaldola!

On Sunday, I met a monk, and not just a monk but a genuine hermit who had reentered the wicked world to write a book and share his knowledge with the world. This anchorite was a member of an obscure branch, the Camaldolese, of the Benedictine Order. This branch, about which I previously knew nothing, had been influenced by the Cluniac reforms, but did not take the step of forsaking their Benedictine brothers, as the Cistercians did. Though few in number, the members are filled with faith, if this monk was any indication. We had a pleasant chat about the desert fathers and eremitical training; the life of a hermit is one which cannot be assumed lightly or without much thought and prayer. It is not a life to which I aspire, but God calls us all in different ways!