Whoa.

Something occurred to me today. It's pretty crazy, so if you're not already sitting down you really should. It came to me through a series of thoughts that I will lead you through. It has to do with Mootharts getting married. First, I thought about how my brother, Gabe, was 22 years old when he got married, and how I'll be 22 when I get married. That's kind of cool. Then I thought about how Gabe's birthday is in January and he was married in May, so he was 22 years old and 4 months. And my birthday is in July and I'm getting married in November. So, I'll be 22 years and 4 months. Crazy, huh? Well, that's not all, folks. Gabe's birthday is January 27, and he was married on May 25...making him 22 years and 4 months minus 2 days. Here's the kicker. My birthday is July 14, and I'm getting married on November 12. And that means I'll be exactly 22 years and 4 months minus 2 days.

I'll let that sink in.

Phillip and Abbey, you might as well start planning your own weddings, now that we know how to figure out exactly what day they'll happen!

You know those pictures from the Aspen Grove that were stuck on my broken camera? Well, the camera is still broken, but I was able to get the pictures off of it. Here is a picture of us, just moments before Jonathan asked me to marry him. I'm so unsuspecting!

Strange.

There's a new Tolkien Chatter on Bubbs, and it's not mine to post in. It's like visiting an old house that was yours for ages and ages (four years) to find someone else living in it. Even if they hadn't changed anything, you would feel awkward.

My local circuit of blogs has quieted down considerably. Perhaps we are all fatigued.

Update on life:

Life is continuing. Libby is in Oregon today, and will be for awhile. I miss her very much.

I am working long days trying to serve as many people as I can as effectively as I can. God grant me strength!

I have found a place to live. It is a stuidio apartment in La Habra. One day, both Libby and I will live there. It's further from Biola, but closer to Church. I'm going to go pick up my key and pay the first month's rent this Monday. I'll then begin moving in my stuff, so that I can start cleaning this house! I might pack up some books tomorrow, we'll see.

A note:

I don't intend to post about work on this blog, because I see the concerns of my job as the business of Biola, those specific students I'm serving, and my department, not the public at large.

A thought:

*yawn*

Everyone should say a quick prayer for Jonathan when they read this. He's very stressed out right now with more work than there is time to do it, and trying to move into a new apartment on top of that.

Did you know that summer doesn't last forever?



Today I saw a Western Tanager flying through Biola's campus. Western Tanagers are never resident in Southern California. They merely swing through on their way North or South. Last time I saw one at Biola was in May.

Yesterday Libby and I were at Bolsa Chica, but all the birds there are still summer birds. There are still wheeling flocks of terns around Tern Island. The only ducks are mallards. So, it's still summer, but now I know it won't last forever. The tanagers are headed home.

See this couple? They're getting married in 100 days! :-)

Here's something weird.

Biola in the News

The above news story is worth a read. It's about a woman named Joanne Perez, who has donated her estate to Biola. She and her husband were vaudville performers, and good friends of Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball. A few times, her husband was actually on the show, and I remember him. He was a clown and rode a little bicycle.

Anyway, the bicyclces are owned by Biola now, and also their house. Their house is a victorian mansion in Santa Ana, which has dance studios in it. Funny. I know of a victorian mansion in Santa Ana with dance studios in it. It was two houses south of my middle school. Coincidence? Probably, but perhaps not!

Also interesting from the Water Cooler: there's a Biola student attempting to climb the highest point in every state this summer. He's trying to do it in 40 days, which would be a new record. Getting High

Now that's cool.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

You may not want to meet the mysterious Half-Blood Prince after dark in real life, but J.K. Rowling's book about him is interesting enough to keep you up long after dark, engrossed in another exciting story about Harry Potter and his battle against Voldemort. I was myself a victim of her enchantment last night, my nose stuck in the book until it finally came to its firm resolution. Of course, the resolution only left me wanting more, and the next book promises to be the most interesting yet.

I am a big fan of the Harry Potter series, in the sense that I read each one when it comes out as soon as I can, then completely forget the plot in time for the next one to come out, which I read immediately for the assured and ready entertainment. It's not deep literature, and it's not good literature, but it's the sort of fun and frothy read that reminds me of my childhood fantasies of adventure and danger. And that's far from worthless.

In fact, when I opened the book this last weekend, I was disappointed. The beginning was interesting in its own way, but it was rather atypical of Harry Potter's books, and it was also rather shockingly sub-par literarily. It's not that she doesn't grasp grammar or vocabulary, it's just that the images she presents are not presented beautifully or excellently. Many other authors have done better in that area.

What keeps you up late at night is the plot. Rowling's plots are delightful , and the language is almost an encumberment to their fast paced roll. It's amazing how fast you can read these books, I finished it in only snippets grabbed here and there from my busy schedule in 3 days. That's because it's the pace and action that grabs you, not the setting or commentary. Since I've been reading Doestoyevsky recently, this is quite shocking to me, but it's pretty typical of modern popular fiction, and I'm not going to complain.

Of course, good books change lives for the better, or at least communicate something uniquely that will nourish our souls. Does Rowling accomplish this with her latest adventure? I'm not sure. She has been weaving good themes into the books about self-sacrificial love, and in this way, at least, there is only good to be found in them. It is not a bad thing to educate people about that sort of thing, not at all!

As far as the infamous ending goes, I wasn't crushed, but that's because I saw it coming before I even read the book. There were some surprises, however, though you couldn't call them twists by any stretch of the imagination. Anyway, good read, I recommend it.

Several days ago, my friend Sarah posted her answers to an "If I could be..." game, and taggegd me to do the same. Because of my recent engagement to Jonathan, this spurred quite a long journal entry about "If I could be a wife..." I won't post all of it here, because it's long and also because I just don't know if I want to share with the entire world all my thoughts about what kind of wife I hope to be. But here's some of it:

If I could be a wife, I'd pray everyday for my husband. I'd pray for myself as well, that I'd be a kind, gentle, understanding, helpful wife.

If I could be a wife, I'd appreciate my husband and respect him, never taking for granted the blessing I had in him.

If I could be a wife, I'd want to make our home a refuge from a stressful world. I'd want my husband to look forward to coming home to me at the end of the day.

If I could be a wife, I'd pack my husband's lunches to take to work. And sometimes, I'd write a little note on the napkin.

If I could be a wife, I'd say "please" and "thank you" and "I'm sorry" a lot. 'Cause marriage is no reason to forget one's manners.

If I could be a wife, I wouldn't ever dishonor my husband by complaining about this or that habit of his behind his back. I was once in a work situation where a couple of the ladies I worked with were in the habit of telling everyone what they didn't like about their husbands. This made me sad, and I vowed never to do that.

If I could be a wife, I'd dust and vacuum and mop the floor so my husband woud have a clean, comfortable home to live in.

If I could be a wife, I'd surprise my husband every once in a while with a baked treat or his favorite meal.

And lastly...If I could be a wife, I'd sleep on the top bunk.

That one was for you, Jonathan. :-)
(It's a little joke we have...cause I've got these bunk beds, and the other day I was like, "Hey, when we're married, can I have the top bunk?")

This link is totally cool. In honor of the Moon landing, Google revealed today their new maps program.

It's worth a look!

Moon.Google

Make sure you check out the closest magnification.

Blue-Green Glow

Last night Libby and I decided to go and check out the Pacific's new-found bioluminescence. It was well worth the drive to Huntington Beach!

We got there around 9, and left a little before 10, so we weren't there that long, but it was very cool while we were there. At first, I didn't know what to expect. I hadn't ever seen it before, although I remember attempting to see it with my family a long time ago. That time, I remember, we figured we'd been stymied by the bright lights of the beach. So, this time, I decided to go to Bolsa Chica, which I figured would be a darker beach than the main city beach. It was darker, except for the moonlight. That's something you could only avoid by staying up really really late, though, and that's not something I'm interested in doing.

Anyway, it was really cool. Not every wave would glow, but a lot of them did. At first, most of the glow was way out at sea, any time there was a white cap, it would be blue-green. But, we walked down the beach a way, and we started seeing breakers glowing green. Since the violence is what excites the plankton, the color would race along the waves, right where it was folding over on itself. It created the illusion of surfing, which was cool.

There were a few times, after we'd been there awhile, that the min-breakers that form between the onrushing waves and the receding wash from a previous wave (in the very shallowest water) would suddenly glow bright green, right up next to us. That was cool, too.

Finally, I filled a bottle with the water. If you went somewhere completely dark and shook it, it would glow green, too! We brought the bottle home with us, and took it to show the roommates. The dinoflagellettes die without air, and then they'll stink, so when I was done with it, I poured it out into the toilet, which was actually really exciting. The froth it formed as it hit the bowl was brilliant green, and when I flushed it, the whole bowl turned a pale green as it went down the tubes.

Here's an OC Register article on the phenomenon.

Happy Happy Birthday!

Yesterday was one of my favorite days of the year: July 14. July 14 is Libby's birthday, and I like it so much because that's the day that I get to celebrate... Libby! Libby is one of my most very favorite things.



Happy birthday, Libby!

Libby and I have some news to share with our reading public. Some ... exciting ... news. Buckle your seatbelts!

This weekend, we took a little trip to Mammoth. Why? To see birds. Or at least, that's what Libby thought!

I like birds.

She likes birds. But that's not really the whole reason why we were going to Mammoth. The whole reason we were going to Mammoth included Love and Big Commitment. My plan had been to go to Mammoth to propose for quite some time, and this was the one open weekend at the cabin in July (the only month that I could get away from work this summer). So, I loaded up the car, and off we sped up highway 395.

I suspected at first that there might be another reason. A bigger reason. A better reason. But, Jonathan cleverly put me off the track (example: the night before we left he told me, "Man, I haven't even started getting ready for this trip yet!"). So, then I decided I must have been wrong to suspect. And I didn't want to expect and then be disappointed, so I put it out of my mind.

I really appreciate that she put it out of her mind. It made my job that much easier! Another clever thing (I thought) was to not wear my Torrey ring, but, to bring it with me in its box. That way I could carry around a ring box without arising suspicion. In casual conversation, I pointed out that I wasn't wearing my Torrey ring, but that it was in my backpack, and, to keep it safe, I had put it in its box. But, that night, I took the Torrey ring out of its box and put it on my finger, nesting in its place a shiny diamond ring intended for my sweetheart!

The next morning, we went for a little hike, and then drove around the Eastern Sierra looking at cool birds. Jonathan suggested stopping for lunch at an Aspen grove that we were planning on re-visiting anyway. We found it last summer when we went up there. It's a small grove in the middle of this sage field. It's like, where'd these tall, pretty trees come from? Like stepping into a fairy world. We had even seen a deer walking around in there. So it was a special memory place that we wanted to come back to. (During that first trip to the Aspen grove, I even thought, "this would be a great place to get engaged." So, that contributed to my initial suspicion.)

However, when we arrived at the grove, another car was parked there. I considered stopping anyway, and waiting for them to clear out, but I figured that might get awkward. It's a pretty small place, and it has a private feeling to it, so they probably wouldn't have appreciated our presence anyway (and it's a good thing we didn't stay then, 'cause I needed to go to the bathroom.) So, I decided to wait a little longer (that was pretty tough) and go on to Mono Lake for lunch, which is only a little further north on 395 from the Aspen Grove. We ate lunch near the shore, and then we decided to go birding at the County Park on the north end of the lake (fortunately, there was a bathroom there). That was pretty cool; there were a lot of neat birds that we saw there, including a Say's Phoebe (This one isn't necessarily all that spectacular, but it is a sort of joke between us. Anytime we see a brown bird, Jonathan says, "Maybe it's a Say's Phoebe!" and it never is. But this time, it really was.) and a Yellow-headed Blackbird! Then, we loaded back into the car and made our way back to the grove.

When we got to the grove, I wanted to take some pictures of it on my digital camera because last summer I didn't get any. My camera, however, was being difficult. After fiddling with the batteries a bit, I got a few pictures of the trees and one of us. (Afterwards, though, my camera totally broke so I don't have any of these.) (I was thinking, "stinking camera." I had more pressing matters occupying my thoughts.) I had no problem messing with the camera. I figured, "we're just here to hang out anyway, right?" Anyway, after getting those pictures that are now lost forever, we sat down and Jonathan read to me the newest chapter of a fairy-tale-like story he's been writing for me. This chapter was about some woods that he based on the Aspen grove. I thought this was very nice. And I thought that was it. But there was more to come.

There was more to come, but I wasn't sure how to get to it. I was pretty nervous by this point, and though I was able to keep my hand pretty steady while reading the story to her, I wasn't at all certain how to transition from the story to the ring. And I have to admit, by this point I was pretty befuddled. Finally, after finishing the story and pausing a little while, I said, "There's one more thing." And I reached into my backpack for my Torrey ring box.

His Torrey ring box. This was somewhat confusing for me. At first, I thought maybe he was playing some kind of joke (which I didn't find funny at all). When he got down on one knee I even said, "What are you doing?" But he didn't let it phase him.

I had this whole plan with the box that I just couldn't pull off. I had meant to throw it to her casually, and then cleverly persuade her to open it, all unsuspecting, to find the ring. But, as I said above, I was befuddled, and I decided the best course of action was the direct one. So, as I struggled to get the ring box out of the cardboard box, I got down on one knee and said something like, "Libby Moothart, I love you with all of my heart, and you're the love of my life. Will you [please] marry me?" (Afterwards, neither one of us could remember if he said please, but he intended to. That's nice. It's polite.) Her face expressed alarm, then happy surprise, and she fell into my arms. Which, I figured, was good.

I was so excited that I forgot to say "yes" for a while. But then I remembered.

She also forgot that I had to put the ring on her finger. I had to remind her about that. So, I took her left hand in mine, and we removed her purity ring, replacing it with a brand new diamond ring, sealing a great and special commitment. A commitment signifying and cementing a bond that's been developing between us since August 15, 2001, when we first met at Torrey Orientation at Biola. I'm looking forward to a long and happy future. :-)

Yeah. So now, we are engaged. To be married (to each other). As opposed to, say, being engaged in battle. Or engaged in criminal activity. We drove into town to get a calling card and some itch cream (there were lots of mosquitoes in the Aspen grove) and then back to the cabin to share our news with Jonathan's grandparents. (To whom Libby and I are very grateful for allowing us to visit the cabin! Thank you!) His grandpa now refers to the Aspen grove as "the loooove vortex."

Soon (November) this blog will be another Rowley Family Blog. So, stay tuned!

Last night, Jonathan and I climbed up on the roof of his two-storey house; there was no ladder involved, just two adventuresome spirits and a pinch of ingenuity. There we watched fireworks light up the sky in all directions. Quite spectacular. And neither one of us fell off and died; though Jonathan did give me a bit of a scare at one point (he had it all under control, though, folks).

This is a good picture of Libby and I from the ones that she posted.



We are so going to get that milk!

I think it reveals our frolicsome spirit.

Lem has posted a link on his blog to the pictures he took from the Guenther wedding. Check them out, yo.

Since I graduated from College, I basically have shut down my brain. Now it's beginning to come back on-line, having recovered from its late exertion, and has been occupied with evil.

That's because I've been reading The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Doestoyevsky, and it is startling how convincing his portrayal of the brothers are. I'm about 2/5ths of the way through it at the moment (for those of you familiar with the book, this is the part in which the narrarator records Alyosha's recording of the Elder's discourse about himself).

It's amazing how good the Elder is, and how evil someone like, say, Ivan, Dmitry or his father is. And you get the impression that even darling Aleksey has something inside of him that is Karamazovian. I suppose that I, too, am a Karamazov.

It is sure to me that there is no good on earth that cannot be corrupted by man, and that no man on earth can save all the goods on earth by his own power. It is only by the Grace of God that nature is preserved, and the only incorruptible things on this earth are miraculous gifts that he gives us. Because we are just that screwed up.

Check out the Horton Web Cam!

http://www.biola.edu/webcam/BiolaWebCam_v18.htm

Friends don't let friends drive away from their wedding reception in a plain car. We're good friends.

Dude. There was a chocolate fountain!

I found the handsomest groomsman and sat by him.

This is the origami box that I learned how to make. And that is my See's Candy sucker.

Joe spent the reception folding origami boxes...and teaching some of us how to do the same. By the way, that is not a cigarette he's got; it's a See's Candy sucker.

And here's the happy couple at the reception. Sure, you could make lots of jokes about their height difference, but the long and the short of it is...eh, never mind.

As promised, I bring you pictures from the Guenther wedding. To start us off, here is one of Katie getting ready with a couple of trusty bridesmaids, Heather and Catherine...in the toddler room at the church.

One of my roommates for two years, Katie Fisher, is getting married today. It's kind of a bitter-sweet thing for me and Bethany (my other roommate of two years). We're very happy for Katie and Dustin. They're about to enter a wonderful new phase of their lives and bind themselves to one another for as long as they both shall live. But we're sad to see her go. This apartment has been a real blessing to all of us, and it's not going to be the same. We've actually had a 4th roommate all along, but each semester that person has changed. Katie is the first of us "constant three" to leave, so it's going to be really different. The three of us, especially, have really had a special community, and at no other time in our lives will it be like this. But that's ok. In fact, it's good! This is the way it ought to be. I mean, c'mon, it would be really weird if the three of us were still living in this apartment together when we were 40. Katie and Dustin will be starting their own new community, population: 2. And for Pete's sake, it's not like we'll never see them again! The community we've had isn't being dissolved, just altered.

So, this afternoon, Bethany and I will wear long periwinkle dresses and stand up on stage with Katie, who will be looking the most beautiful she's ever been. And it'll be a very good day.

P.S. Jonathan will be wearing a tux with a periwinkle vest and standing up on stage with Dustin, with whom he has roommed for 3 years.
P.P.S. Maybe I'll post some pictures of this event.

My left leg got quite a workout tonight.

See, I learned how to drive stick shift. Well, here's the thing: I'm obviously not what you would call great at it, but I've got the basics. I drove around on the streets for a while (I started in a big empty parking lot and stayed there till I was more comfortable with it) and got up to 4th gear. There's still lots to learn, of course (for example: hills). But it's a start. And it was really fun! Ok, well honestly, there was a while at the beginning when it was not fun; it was pretty frustrating. That's when I kept making the same kind of mistake over and over and couldn't figure out how to fix it. It's no fun to try to learn something and not be making progress. But once I got past that it was really exciting!

And Jonathan is very helpful and patient. :-)

Here is a heart-wrenching story about some people trying to save a life, despite great tragedy:

http://www.washtimes.com/national/20050616-121815-6990r.htm

http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2005-06-15-saving-baby-cover_x.htm

This is the story of Susan Torres, a woman whose brain recently stopped functioning due to malignant melanoma. They are keeping her body alive so she can bring her unborn baby to 25 weeks, at which point it has a chance of survival. It's heart-wrenching, and if someone has the means, there are ways (available in the article) to help alleviate the hospital bills, anyway.

We can also pray.

This is such a good summer. Jonathan and I get to spend lots of time together...every day (imagine that!). It's sooo much better than last semester. And the semester before that. And come to think of it, it's a whole lot better than last summer too (when I was working late on weekdays and even several weekends). So, basically, life is really good.

I just finished reading Lilith by George MacDonald. That is a good book; I definitely recommend it. Parts of it were a little slow-going for me, but the overall story is just great. The end is especially beautiful. I now have a better understanding of why C.S. Lewis chose George MacDonald as his guide through Heaven in The Great Divorce. Maybe I'll reread that next.

Here's a picture of the cabin, with a fallen tree in front.

And this is Lake Mary. Still has ice on it!

Here are some pictures from Mammoth, taken recently by Dave and Beth Lowe. It's June. And there's still snow. Crazy. Look how pretty it is, though! This is Emerald Lake.

This is for Elementary PE teachers everywhere:

Here's a game where no one loses--footsies. Seriously, folks. Have you ever heard someone say, "I was playing footsies the other day, but I lost pretty bad." ??? No, of course not! Everyone wins! So, that makes it a great candidate for Elementary PE. Everyone can participate, and no one loses. Of course, to keep it modest, the girls would need to wear long pants so their ankles remain covered. Clearly. And before begininng, everyone could do toe-curls or something to warm up.

This post makes me feel uncomfortable. I mean, are you imagining it? Do you see the little kids lined up playing footsies? That's just wrong.

But it makes me laugh. Is that bad?

Biola's Bookstore is having its "Buy it so we don't have to count it" sale this week. It started Monday and I don't know when it ends. It's 30% off all store merchandise... plus a 10% staff discount! So it was 40% off (they take the 10% off the pre-sale price).

I bought some cool books at it:

1. The Princess and Curdie - macdonald
2. The Princess and the Goblin - macdonald
3. Lilith - macdonald
4. Phantastes - macdonald
5. Norton's selection of Tennyson's poetry - tennyson
6. selected essays: rennaissance and medieval literature - c.s. lewis

I can't remember what else I bought, but I'm pretty much the most excited about Tennyson. I am going to have to take a Saturday morning and set it aside to read "In Memoriam." Alright! More great English poetry!

At the moment, I'm trying to read The Brothers K. 30 pages in, the spectre of its continuing for another several thousand is daunting, but the translation is engaging, and I can see some interesting things coming along.

Libby and I just finished reading On the Shores of Silver Lake (Laura Ingalls Wilder). That was a pretty good Little House book. I liked it. Laura Ingalls caught a glimpse of Almanzo Wilder! Gasp! We'll have to see what develops!

Next we will read King Lear together. It is the greatest Shakespeare that we haven't read, and so it's a must-read. I read the first scene recently and I liked it a lot. Poor Cordelia. I am looking forward to this the most of all the books that I'm reading. This year I've come to appreciate Shakespeare for what he really is: the best author ever to write in our language. There are a few really great books, and fewer great authors. Shakespeare is ours! There's so much to learn from him! Richard III was so amazing to get into. I don't understand the half of it yet, but I can see enough to be awed.

After we finish Lear we are going to read the Silver Chair, and then we will read the next Little House book. We're rotating our way through the Narnia series and the Little House series. The Narnia books take less time to read, I think because the chapters are longer.

We are so literary.

Well, it's now been one week since Libby and I graduated from Biola University. No longer college students, we struggle for existence against the waves of debt and difficulty flowing from supporting one's self in this topsy-turvy world.

Ha ha, no it's pretty good so far. We get to see each other a lot more than we did in the semester.

I'm adjusting to my new job. Libby's calling for the Academy (she's recruited the most applicants!) and tutoring.

Because our schedule is so much more regular now, I seem to have a lot less time to use the internet, so I don't really have all that much time to post. But that's ok, I'll find time to post if anything important occurs to me or happens to me. And I'm sure Libby will, too.

One down, one to go.

Jonathan and I both graduated from the Torrey Honors Institute at Biola University this afternoon. It was a lovely ceremony. Father David, from Blessed Sacrament, was the speaker and did a fabulous job. We also recieved our very cool silver rings with the inscription: Bonvm Veritas Pvlcher (Good, True, Beautiful).

Tomorrow morning is the big Biola graduation. It will be much longer. And much more boring. And we won't get cool rings. But we'll shake Dr. Cook's hand and be recognized as college graduates. And that's pretty cool too.

*sigh* At last.

I'm printing my thesis. I'm pretty disappointed in it, but I learned a lot about how to write long papers, anyway.

Next a title page, then the bibliography is to be printed.

Then I guess I'll go to bed, though Dustin and I are competing at the moment to see who will stay up the longest tonight. He had said that he would go to bed at 3:00, but that time has past.

Now for graduation stuff. My first rehearsal is tomorrow: that's for Torrey.

Next time I go to work I'll be the boss. I'm looking forward to learning a lot about managment and communicating. I imagine there will be tough times, but I'm gonna head into 'em straight on!

This morning I took the CSET (California Subject Examination Test): Multiple Subjects. It includes three subtests: 1. Language, Reading, Literature; History and Social Science 2. Math and Sciences 3. Physical Education, Human development, Visual and Performing Arts. The subtests can be taken on separate days, or all at once. I decided to take it all and get it over with. Reporting time was 7:30am, at Magnolia High School in Anaheim. When I got to the classroom where I was assigned, I took my seat and got signed it. By 7:35, everyone who was there was signed in, but we couldn't start the test till 8:00, because people would be coming in late, yadda-yadda-yadda. So we were all just sitting there, everyone pretty stressed and wanting to somehow jump five hours ahead to when the test would be over. I figured it might be nice to get out of my seat for a few minutes. So, I walked over near the door where there was a globe (we were obviously in a history classroom: maps on the walls and a poster with all the U.S. Presidents, etc.) and started slowly turning it and looking at it. I was probably up there for about 5 minutes before the lady who was administering the test came over and said, "Would you please take a seat?" I said, "Oh, sure. I just thought I'd review a little geography," and walked back to my seat. She wasn't amused, but several other people in the room chuckled and started talking, and I felt that I had helped to lighten the tension a bit.

The test itself went pretty well. I'm all but certain I passed all three subtests, and I'm very glad to have it over with. One of the essay questions was almost identical to one that I had read in my test prep book a few days ago (with a sample answer and everything) so that was great. Another essay question, in the Human Development section, dealt with something that we just talked about in my Child Development class on Thursday. There's about a thousand things they could have asked (that I would have had a much harder time writing an essay on), so to have some that I was so prepared for was an answer to prayer.

"What you are stepping Westward?"

Yesterday, Libby and I stepped toward the setting sun. When Libby pointed out our westward wanderings, I replied "What you are stepping westward?" The awkward construction of the sentence fairly obscures the meaning, but it also makes it stick in my mind. The line is good, but it is not my own; it is by the masterful poet William Wordsworth. I have read it many times, and I had just read it the other day when we stepped westward ourselves. The preface of this poem, as my memory serves me, says that Wordsworth and a friend were walking in the Lake District when two well dressed ladies met them and asked them if they were stepping westward.

VII. STEPPING WESTWARD

"What, you are stepping westward?"--"Yea."
--'Twould be a 'wildish' destiny,
If we, who thus together roam
In a strange Land, and far from home,
Were in this place the guests of Chance:
Yet who would stop, or fear to advance,
Though home or shelter he had none,
With such a sky to lead him on?

The dewy ground was dark and cold;
Behind, all gloomy to behold;
And stepping westward seemed to be
A kind of 'heavenly' destiny:
I liked the greeting; 'twas a sound
Of something without place or bound;
And seemed to give me spiritual right
To travel through that region bright.

The voice was soft, and she who spake
Was walking by her native lake:
The salutation had to me
The very sound of courtesy:
Its power was felt; and while my eye
Was fixed upon the glowing Sky,
The echo of the voice enwrought
A human sweetness with the thought
Of travelling through the world that lay
Before me in my endless way.

The experience that I had yesterday with Libby was a mirror of the experience Wordsworth had with these two ladies. The words of Wordsworth added a significance to our walk, just like the ladies' words had added significance to his walk. Isn't it amazing how a poet can take a quick interchange of words, and ring out of it a beautiful contemplation? And, while contemplating this question, be doing the thing that he's examining? Awesome.

My Thoughts on The Revenge of the Sith

This movie is not perfect. But it exceeded my expectations, and I would qualify my expectations by saying that they had been buoyed by the positive feedback that I'd been hearing before I went. So it exceeded my a little more than modest expectations for its success, whatever that's worth. Thanks to Libby for coming with me to see it despite the late hour!

In my opinion, the movie's greatest strength was making Anakin Skywalker's character realistic. I felt that his change was, in the moral universe of the movie, natural considering his character and the decisions that he made. All this despite the bad acting on the part of Hayden Christensen. I really felt for Darth Vader's change, but at the same time, the depths to which he plummeted helped me to understand just how Obi Wan could tell Luke that Skywalker was dead. He really is so evil that it seems like the man he used to be is just totally gone.

Now I want to watch the Return of the Jedi again and see why Luke didn't change. And see how well the vision of Anakin's character returns in the last decisions of Vader's reform.

Other positives:

The movie connected with me pretty powerful on an emotional level several times. Unlike Steven Spielberg, I didn't cry, but I could see why he would. At points, and at the end, I felt sick. It's very sad.

The light-saber scenes were all enjoyable. There are things that you could complain about (Hard to see what's going on occasionally) but they were still thrilling. The Obi Wan/Anakin battle doesn't disappoint, and neither does the Yoda/ Palpatine battle.

Yoda is awesome again. His character manages to inject humor into the movie despite the totally serious themes.

Mace Windu's one light saber battle is really cool.

I thought some of the ways it weaved its ethical points around the narrative were creative and interesting. At one critical point, enemies are calling each other traitors. While it's clear at the time who is the real traitor, there's plausible amiguity within the story (Palpatine weilds power like Richard III). But by the next scene, the awful implications of that belief are brought home with the most disgusting and treacherous sequence of the whole movie. Simple and effective.

An important consideration:

It's not a children's movie. If you're under 13, don't go. It has one moment that is very graphic.

Negatives:

We see Jar Jar's face. He doesn't lose it.

Bad dialogue. At times, it's really bad.

Bad acting. How can Natalie Portman be the same actress from Garden State? This is why I think the script might be the cause of a lot of the bad acting. There are good actors in this movie. I'd say Samuel L. Jackson does the best job, overall.

Lots of computer graphics. At times it was distracting, and on the whole Lucas obviously went overboard. (on the whole though, by the end, the story had mostly removed my complaints about this)

There are some saggy moments in the plot. Generally that's because of the bad dialogue and acting that we're conscious of during the still moments.

I thought the ending was a little cheesy. It was very self-consciously making connections that would set up Episode IV. I don't think that they were justified by this movie of itself, which seems a weakness to me.

Alright. My recommendation: if you like Star Wars, you have to see it. If you don't like Star Wars at all, you might not like it. If you like fun action movies, you'll probably appreciate it.

This past weekend, I had the privilege of taking a road trip up to the Monterey Bay Aquarium with the Marine Biology class. Now, I'm not taking Marine Biology. But the professor is the same one that teaches my Ornithology class, and he thought it would be a good chance for us to get to see some birds that we wouldn't see down here. I was the only one that took him up on the offer to tag along, and I'm very glad I did. I've actually been there once before, last spring when I took Marine Biology, but it's such an amazing place that I couldn't pass up another free trip to see it (Biola pays our admission).

We left on friday afternoon and planned to stop for dinner at In-N-Out in Santa Maria.Then, one of the students, Andrew (who is from Santa Maria), got a call from his mom saying that she wanted to have us over for dinner. So, we stopped there for a yummy meal of pizza, chopped fruit, green salad, Snapples, and freshly baked cookies. As we drove off to continue our trip up the coast, Andrew's parents stood in the driveway and waved goodbye until we were out of sight. It looked like it was straight out of Leave it to Beaver or something. So great.

We got to the camp ground after dark and set up our tents as quickly as we could. I wouldn't mention the camping bit, except that somewhat of an adventure came of it the next morning. There were two tents of girls: four in each. The girls in my tent kept our shoes inside the tent overnight. The girls in the other tent left their shoes outside. And when we got up in the morning, those four girls were each short one pair of shoes. I couldn't believe it! Somebody stole three pairs of women's flip-flops and one pair of tennis shoes (the tennis shoes were quite expensive. If it weren't for the loss of that $80 pair of shoes, it would have been completely hilarious. As it was, it was still pretty amusing.) So, we took down the tents and headed to Longs to buy flip-flops for our barefooted buddies.

Breakfast was at a place called First Awakenings, which makes the best pancakes I've ever had. One takes up the whole plate, and is enough to satisfy most hungry stomachs. If you're ever up by the aquarium, you should definitely eat there.

The aquarium itself was of course amazing. Among the best exhibits are the otters, the tuna (those guys are big and can move really fast!), and the Jellyfish exhibit entitled Jellies: Living Art. My favorite of the jellies is the Comb Jelly. It's amazing to me that something like that exists. They're simply fascinating.

I also saw a few new birds during the trip: the Yellow-billed Magpie, the Pelagic Cormorant, and the Pigeon Guillemot.

This aquarium is just great--everyone should visit it at least once in their life. It's the #1 aquarium, and the #3 top-rated family attraction in the country. So, go; take the kids.

Libby and I are reading the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. This is one of the best of the Chronicles of Narnia, but it is also one of the strangest. There is no crisis for which the children are drawn to Narnia, yet it is done without their willing. This is unique. If one is left to consider the theme of the book, natural questions come to mind that do not in any other work. Why are the children brought to Narnia? What happens that requires them? Or are they brought there for their own sake?

I am not sure yet, though I have begun to find some answers.

Today we read the chapter about the Island where Dreams Come True. As a child, this chapter was one of the most frightening of the book, not because I could relate to any experience like it, but because it suggested to my imagination a kind of experience worse than pretty much any other could ever be. It didn't really connect with me because I always thought Lewis was wrong. I do not have nightmares that often, and have had many pleasant dreams. This time through, I noticed he did not make an exhaustive claim regarding the nature of "real dreams." The idea is just that you have some dreams that are so bad that you would never want to have the good ones come if it meant the bad ones would come true, too.

Anyway, this aside, the chapter is likely one of the best in the book, and it is also one of the most self-consciously literate.

The premise of the chapter, of course, is that the Dawn Treader is confronting a strange new adventure. For several days in front of them, a blackness they took to be an island loomed closer and closer. As they got within a few feet, they stopped rowing and would not have entered it but for the insistance of Reepicheep. He blames their reluctance on cowardice (rightly so?) and urges them further in. Why? Not for the sake of any use, he answers Drinian, but to seek out adventures for their own sake. That is, Reepicheep is convinced that one must live in such a way that, facing all life's obstacles courageously, an intrinsic good will follow if one is faithful. This strikes me as a Christian sentiment, and the chapter comes off as a very Christian meditation on fear, human evil, and salvation.

When the boat has pressed on for about five minutes (or so says Drinian) into the darkness, they hear the voice of a man who has almost lost his humanity for terror. Upon saving him, he tells them the fear of the place, and the ship immediately begins to flee. Reepicheep protests, but Caspian silences him. Why? Because there are some fears that no man can face.

It occurs to me that the fear no man can face is the fear of himself. Since a dream is a manifestation of hidden internal beliefs or lies, or what-ever, facing one is facing one's worst parts. To this task, no one is able (save perhaps the noble Reepicheep). So, the men fly. They fly as fast as they can, but it is to no avail. They cannot escape. They row longer than it should have taken to escape, but the darkness leaves them no way of finding a way out.

Up to now, the literary parrallel is that of Dante in the Dark Wood. The enterprising pilgrim attemps to reach the peak of the mountain by himself, but it is manifestations of his own sin that chases him down it. He cannot reach Paradise by his own work: it is only through the aid of the love of God that he can be granted salvation. So far, this parrallel (I imagine it is intended) is clear.

What happens next is straight from Dante. Dante is met by Virgil, but why is Virgil there? Because St. Lucy prayed for him. Lucy is the patron saint of light (her day in the Church calendar is the shortest of the year), and Lewis has his character with that name pray for their salvation. The result? Light from heaven streams down onto the ship, and descending through it is a cross-shaped bird: the albatross.

The albatross is the most obvious literary allusion in the book. It's a play on Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, something every English school boy of his age would have read. In the Mariner story, the albatross saves the crew of an unlucky ship that stumbles into an antarctic fog and can't get out. So, the mariner kills it. Disastrous consequences soon follow. The albatross was an innocent and a savior, and it was killed. There is no punnishment sufficeint for it, except that the mariner must work to prevent such sins from happening again for the rest of his life (his freedom is completely taken away). Anyway, I take the albatross to be some kind of image of the saving power of nature. Left there, we'd wonder why Lewis chose the image. But he didn't leave the image as he found it.

The albatross is Aslan. He makes this very clear. So, here it is not nature saving us, but God saving us. There is no doubt left in your mind that this is a natural occurence at all. I imagine that the natural imagery works to his advantage because grace perfects nature. Aslan is a better albatross than Coleridge's; he's God after all.

So, why was this chapter written? Because Lewis wants to habituate our souls into finding the truth. In this case, the truth is that we have such hideous evil within us that we will never find salvation (or more broadly perhaps moral improvement of any kind) on our own. It requires the supernatural aid of our benevolent God, and his intercessory action flowing from the life giving prayers of our loved ones. Reading a story like this will make us more likely to look for such aid when confronting difficult problems in our life. This is the sort of book Eustace should have read his whole life.

It is the "right sort of book."

Here's an article from Christianity Today about the morality of Wal-Mart. This is an issue that has touched me, as I have heard the arguments against Wal-Mart. For awhile I have been reluctant to shop there. This fellow sort of lays out the debate.

Deliver Us From Wal-Mart?

The most serious issue in my mind is the allegation of sweatshop work; especially since they are said to use children. It sounds like Wal-Mart needs to work on that more, and that the problem has been pretty consistent. I would agree with the author that independent inspectors, such as those used by Nike, would be an excellent move on their part. It sounds good that the Methodist Church has invested in Wal-Mart. It's given them a more powerful say in the reforming of their poor business policies.

Praise the Lord!

I have a job. I will be working as assistant manager of Residential Facilities at Biola starting May 31st.

These are my baby thoughts on Shakespeare and Providence. I gotta put em somewhere! They're burning inside me.

As I sat at my computer today, a connection struck me that, unfortunately, hadn't yet. I am glad that it has now, and so I am trying to make sense of it. It was the connection between Hamlet, and its theme of Providence, and Richard III and its theme of Providence. Both plays, obviously among Shakespeare's very best, treat of this difficult subject. Why? Is it accidental that Shakespeare's best works touch on this? Or is it an important part of the tapestry of his mind?

It occured to me today in class that a Greek tragedy would provide a possible interpretive model for Richard III. Take Oedipus for an example: he strove against the gods, and against fate, and failed. He ends up gouging out his eyes. Why? Because the truth that he finds is so terrible. Perhaps it would have been better if he had left it alone. But the real connection comes, for me, from the last play in the Oedipus trilogy. Oedipus at Colonus shows a response to fate that seems archetypal. The spiritual resignation of Oedipus reminded me very much of Clarence's reaction to his dream. It seems proper given fatalism.

But that's why Stanley is so interesting. And this is a Christian play.

That just throws it all up in the air for me. Is Shakespeare attempting a Christian version of Oedipus? Who is resigned to fate? Who is not? Are they virtuous because of their resignation? There are many questions to be asked.

As I sat at my computer today something touched a memory of Hamlet, and so I ran over these lines in my head:

There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; If it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?

I love these lines because they're tricky, thick, and poetic. But I think they're also important to Shakespeare's understanding of providence. The idea, I admit, is not mine. It comes from C.S. Lewis' essay: "Hamlet: The Prince or the Poem." I haven't read it in a long time, but I thought it was good when I did, and the idea that Hamlet resigns himself somehow to Providence seemed convincing to me. It's helpful in explaining his delaying, and his subsequent decision to act. Lewis argued that those lines above were the critical ones in understanding Hamlet's character. That seems insightful to me, though perhaps it is not the final word.

But if Shakespeare thought that then, does he think it when he wrote Richard III? Can we expect to find the same theme? I suspect so, and so I have hope in understanding Richard III: this is a place to start.

I don't think it's the sum, though, of the ideas in Richard III. There is so much more! The curses are so eminently present. There is no doubt left to the audience, by the end, regarding the outcome of the play. But this is typical of Shakespeare: think Romeo and Juliet. At the beginning of that play they let us know what is going to happen, and then we just enjoy the ride. Zach's comment in class regarding Richard's enjoying the events may touch on this theme. But I don't understand that at all. How can that be? How can there be moral responsibility? What view of Providence IS THIS? It's hard for me to believe that Shakespeare is a Calvinist, but it may be true.

Dropping these considerations, something else occurred to me almost simultaneously on remembering the Hamlet quote. I'll put it phere.

Providence is a natural subject for a good playwrite, and especially Shakespeare.

There are several reasons for this. First, all great artists in a genre look to the artists before them when considering their art. You can't help but do it: every epic poem consciously has to respond to any other epic poem existing in that society (Virgil trumps Homer to be trumped by Dante). Shakespeare often consciously appeals to the great Greek Tragedians when he is considering his art (many examples, Henry V is one), and how can you not treat of Providence if you want to follow in their footsteps (and surpass them! Which he does. Shakespeare's a better playwrite than the Greeks and he probably knows it).

A second reason is simple, but more important. A play, as an image of life (Aristotle's Poetics) has to deal with Providence. The actors are not free. They are constrained by a playwrite, his text, and a director. So, as an image of life their very genre lends them a natural image with which they have to deal. If life is free, how do you portray it with constrained actors? If it's not, how do you draw this image to the attention of the audience? I'm reminded of the comedy As You Like It. There are so many levels in that play, and it is the play (coincidentally?) wherein Jacques makes that famous "The world's a stage..." speech. This insight is fresh for my mind at the moment, and seems relevant to Richard III. Richard III wields great power because he feels free to exist on any level that is necessary for his aim. He can lie, dissemble, etc. And in the end, it's to no end. He can't be God, after all. And, ironically, God has been using him the whole time to work out the Justice that Margaret has called upon.

Check out the trailer for The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe movie, coming out in December. It looks pretty cool!

I've really been slacking with the blog lately, sorry guys.

I gave the lecture today in my Ornithology class, on social behavior in birds. As I was preparing for the lecture, I found out something very interesting regarding social status and dominant behavior within species. Plumage has a lot to do with it. For example: the male Harris's Sparrow has black markings under it's chin and onto it's chest. Males with more defined black markings are dominant, and males with spotty markings are subordinate. And they fit into a pecking order with several levels based upon this. Dominant birds get first dibs on space, mates, and food. Subordinate individuals yield to the dominant ones, and everyone lives in peace. Now for the interesting story. There was a study done, where some subordinate Harris's Sparrows were taken, and their feathers under the chin and on the chest were dyed black so that they resembled a dominant individual. This is what happened to them: the actual dominant individuals started attacking them, because they represented a threat to their status. Instead of fighting back, which would have allowed these subordinate birds (who looked dominant) to climb in rank and actually become more dominant, they backed off becuase they don't have aggressive tendancies like dominant birds do. So it pretty much just confused them. "I've always been so good at yielding to the dominant birds. Why are they attacking me? Leave me alone!" I thought it was kind of a funny story.


This one, for example, looks like it would be one of the more dominant individuals. Look at all that black! Man!



This one is a little scanty. He'd be more subordinate. Sorry, dude.

Well, I'm dying for the last time in the Shakespeare Game (I mentioned it once a lont time ago) this semester. This class is just fun. I loved Shakespeare coming in, and so have appreciated the chance to read three plays with others who love Shakespeare, too.

Here's the final speech I posted:

What thou blushes at? Thine own shame. What makes thine knobby knees knock about? The sound of mine name.

Hamlet's words flow easier than mine own, and fit the time as well as any perfectly played melody.

Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special
providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,
'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be
now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the
readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he
leaves, what is't to leave betimes?

I determined to know thine name, which I now declare is John de Vere, 13th Earl of Oxford.

You are right in saying that I am.

But, with the Dane, I am resolved to rest in the arms of the Almighty God. Certainly, you do not believe that I can be shaken, or frightened, or alarmed at this my death? Or at you my killer?

No, for I know that there is a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will.

And here, at my end, I will not struggle against the Almighty's providence. Nor will I shy away from my heart's desire! Indeed, your cackling at my passing seems to be misplaced, and to be hidden both from the light of faith and reason. Hear the words of the Philosopher:

For I deem that the true disciple of philosophy is likely to be misunderstood by other men; they do not perceive that he is ever pursuing death and dying; and if this is true, why, having had the desire of death all his life long, should he repine at the arrival of that which he has been always pursuing and desiring?

No, I will not faint away from this my glorious entrance into the further life. The veil is lifting, soon I will behold a glorious light, to fill and pierce my soul eternally. For, unlike Socrates, I am entering into the Peace beyond time, the Tri-une God of Revelation:

That light doth so transform a man's whole bent
That never to another sight or thought
Would he surrender, with his own consent;

For everything the will has ever sought
Is gathered there, and there is every quest
Made perfect, which apart from it falls short.

You see, your act, though stemming from hate, works the mercy of the Lord upon my soul.

Yet, be warned the Providence of whom you are an instrument, and upon which I base my future hope is two edged. God dispenses Grace freely on those who beseech it, but it deals justice harshly on those who spurn this Grace!

And it will not be withheld forever, for now in my last moment, I take upon me the role of Margaret of Anjou, and speak prophecies regarding the failure of your low-born house. I can see in my mind's eye the fall of York from the crown, as Jesus once saw Satan fall from heaven. And my fellow Lancastrians, standing on Christ's own behalf for the true king of England, his political regent on this earth, are empowered to trample on you scorpion's and serpents. Such is your house! Such is your lowest (yet greatest): the ignoble Richard III is the very archetype of your morality! Therefore heed my words of caution and beware the ghosts of your past sins. The souls of those you've wronged will not be silent.

Nor will the God who sees the fall of his innocent sparrow.


As for the rest,

The rest is silence.
















Silent, that is, except for this! In the style of Eliot, I give helpful Footnotes:
1. Hamlet, 5.2.
2. Luke 22:70 (I use the words of Jesus not to blaspheme, but to indicate that while they understand who I am, it does not follow that I am worthy of death)
3. Hamlet, 5.2.
4. Plato, Phaedo.
5. Dante, Paradiso, XIII. 100 - 106. trans. Sayers (these lines run roughly)
6. Luke 10:18, 19.
7. Hamlet, 5.2.

(Bubbs quotes don't really translate into Blogger: bold italics are the person accusing me, and italics are the footnoted quotes.)

Today was a fun day for Libby and I. We got to spend quite a bit of time together, which is always a blessing. We also got to see some good art. Well, great art and good art. First,

"Now is the winter of our discontent
made glorious summer by this son of York."

Libby and I finished reading this play today. Wow. There is a lot to unpack from Richard III, and I am still barely beginning. It's a great play. I'm not sure why it's attractive, though. It is amazing how evil and justice are intertwined. The hump-back is little more than an instrument of God.

Tonight we also went and watched the Phantom of the Opera, which was at the dollar theater. That was an intense movie, and it has some interesting thoughts on evil in it, as well.

Curiously, both of these are about evil ugly men.

Today was a very good day with respect to birding. I didn't see any new birds, but boy did I see some cool ones, and all in an hour or two at La Mirada Park!

This afternoon, after work, I decided to drop by the park to see if an oriole I've been watching was still there. It's such a pretty bird that I go look at it at least once a week.

But, when I was walking towards the trees that it hangs out in (near the gym) I saw a giant white bird circling the lake in the park. I hot footed it over there to find out what it was, just in time to see it setting its enormous bulk into a sycamore on the far shore. My suspicions were growing, but when I reached the bottom of the tree, and gazed up, I was sure. It was an osprey! In La Mirada Park! Awesome!



Crows were unhappy about it, they kept dive bombing it, and anywhere it flew they followed. Some older gentlemen at the park say that they do see it from time to time fishing there. But I'm still flabergasted.

Other birds that Libby and I saw at the park (and most of them you can see, too, if you drop by) plus I'm updating this list as I see more:
1. Western Bluebird (there are some nest boxes in the park, so there are at least two pairs)
2. Cassin's Kingbird
3. Cedar Waxwing (spring)
4. Barn Swallow
5. Black-crowned Night Heron (We saw one of these eat a baby duck!)
6. Double-crested cormorant
7. Mallard ducks
8. Muscovy-mallard hybrid duck, plus other unique hybrids
9. Domestic Geese and ducks:
10. Chinese Domestic Goose
11. Greylag Goose
12. Mourning dove
13. Great-tailed grackle
14. Brewer's blackbird
15. House Sparrow
16. European Starling (rumor has it the Romans taught these starlings to speak like humans.
17. American Crow
18. American Coot
19. Rock Dove (feral domestic pigeons)
20. Band-tailed Pigeon (the largest pigeon in North America, a game bird with tasty flesh)
21. Sharp-shinned Hawk
22. Townsend's warbler
23. Wilson's Warbler
24. Ash-throated Flycatcher
25. Western tanager! (5.06.05)
26. Great blue heron
27. Green heron
28. Snowy Egret
29. Great Egret
30. That ol' Bullocks Oriole (spring)
31. That ol' Osprey
32. Black Pheobe
33. Ring necked Duck (a week in April)
34. White fronted goose (April, 05)
35. American Wigeon (Winter)



Other times we've gone we've seen lesser goldfinches and house finches (of course) plus mockingbirds, etc.

In the winter, there are a lot more ducks and geese in the lake: The wigeon, the ring-necked duck, a white-fronted goose, and chocolate runner at least.

You can also find, at varying times, Great Blue Herons, Great Egrets and Snowy Egrets.



La Mirada Park is cool!

(for image credits, right click on the images to see their source page)

The Badonkadonk!

I have tears in my eyes. Wrap your mind around this piece of engineering marvelry. Then read the reviews. Then, recall to your mind that this is called a "badonkadonk." Read a few more reviews, and then, again, consider the name. The "badonkadonk" is calling you!

It looks like a landcruiser from Return of the Jedi.

Well, we've certainly gotten a little less frequent in Blog posting. Probably just because we've gotten to a point where life is going so fast that it's hard to stop and reflect on it. Reflection is just absolutely prior to communication, and that's what this blog is.

Today Dustin, Luke, Lem, Phil and I went driving all over Southern California tux shopping. The thing is, Dustin's getting married, and he doesn't want us to show up in t-shirts and shorts. Personally, that seems a little absurd, but to each his own, you know?

First on the iternary was Friar Tux in Brea. That was a little hard to find, because its in some other Bridal store called Allusions Bridal, which is hardly evident. After defying a conditional argument (don't ask! it's dustin's fault!), we finally found it and made our way inside. Problem: $95.00 each, after a discount. What do people think their selling? Tuxedoes? Gosh! Lem enjoyed a little Rayman Bowling on his cell phone, and otherwise we mucked about while Dustin attempted a few little magical negotiation techniques. Finding these futile, we loaded back up in our car and scooted off to eat lunch at our traditional local eatery: Great Wall Mongolian BBQ on Harbor and Imperial.

Mongolian BBQ was awesome, we hadn't been there in a long time. I loaded up an egg roll with a wasabi-like horseradish sauce, revelling in the rolling burning tongues of flame that licked the insides of my sinus cavities. Ah, delightful torture! Oh the delicious flavors that can be found within the circumferance of a bowl! We ate until we were satisfied.

Now we decided to go back to the place where we got our tuxes for Phil's wedding. That place is, however, in Cerritos. So a half an hour later or so we finally found ourselves on the corner of Del Amo and Bellflower. We didn't get back till after 3:00, and we left around noon! Still, it was fun cruising through the streets of Southern California with the boyz. This other tux place is awesome. You should go there. They cut us a nice deal, $75.00 each. $20 less, and the tuxes are fine and dandy. If I remembered the name, I'd tell you. But I don't, so ask Dustin or Phil. Maybe I'll add it in an update.

Now I'll be settin' to work on the ol' Thesis. Lord Byron, here I come!

I started doing observation hours at a new school today. I'm in a 4th grade class this time, and it's in a Christian school. The first day is always really exciting because I get to meet the kids, and they get to meet me, and they're usually really excited because there's a new face. Some funny things happened. Here's one of them...

During recess a couple of the girls came up to me, jumpropes in hand, to introduce themselves.
Jessica: My name is Jessica.
Nicole: And I'm Nicole.
Me: Well, hello Jessica and Nicole. It's nice to meet you both.
*pause*
Jessica: I like eggs.

And I like you, Jessica.

William Dembski was at Biola today talking about Intelligent Design, a movement in which he is a major mover and shaker. So, in celebration of his lectures, I'm posting the link to the Intelligence Design Blog.

And, buy his book!

Intelligent Design is one of the most important and most successful intellectual projects in our lifetime (it helped convinced Flew!). It was exciting to hear what he had to say in person.

An interesting article by Stanley Kurtz on gender studies, and the goals of radical feminism. I think that he probably mischaracterizes the feminist movement by lumping everyone in with this one group of radicals, but reading it with this in mind lends an interesting perspective.

Can We Make Boys and Girls Alike?

I think the stuff on kibutzes is interesting.

Some cool Google Map Locations:

Hoover Dam

The Statue of Liberty

Disneyland!

Here's Pokonobe Lodge on the northern end of Lake Mary. There are clouds, I think, over the cabin. (Click on the map to move it around: Mamie, Horseshoe, Twin, George, all the way to Duck is displayed in this resolution)

There are just a few of the cool places you can see using Google Maps and their new satellite feature. Check it out!

Update:

It turns out I was totally reinventing the wheel. Besides the ones I posted here I had searched for a bunch of other things. I probably found about half of what's on this blog. I can vouch for it being more fun if you look for it yourself, but this is the cheat sheet of cool American places seen from satellites and visible on Google Maps.

Google Sightseeing Blog

Grandpa Moothart and little Jonathan Phineas.

Grandma Moothart takes a turn with the little one.

Emily let me hold him while she signed some papers.

Introducing Jonathan Phineas Moothart, born at 12:03 last night. He's 6lb, 13.5oz. He's perfect, and everything he does is cute. You can check out Gabe's blog for more details; I'm sure he'll be updating it!

I'm going to be an aunt! Gabe and Emily went to the hospital to induce labor tonight. Apparantly, there's a bunch of stuff to do to get Emily ready, and the baby probably won't be born until the morning. So, tomorrow is going to be an exciting day for the Mootharts and Palmers. I'll take pictures of my adorable new niephew (whose gender will be known by that point) and post some on here. I can't wait! This baby is going to be the cutest. Well, actually, babies usually aren't that cute right after they're born, huh? All slimy and stuff. Well, it's true! Anyway, after a little while he/she is going to be so cute.

Pray for a safe and quick delivery.

I'll keep ya posted. :-)

This last week I read 220 pages of T.S. Eliot. It was an experience and a half. After finishing the Four Quartets, I felt that he had taught me something, somehow, that I had always wanted to know but never knew how to express. But I also had the impression that if someone asked me what I thought it was he had taught me, I could only tell them that it was what he had said, and refer them to the poem. That's unfortunate, but may be a drawback in my own experience of the truth. Poetry aims at communicating truths that otherwise we could never fully appreciate.

I love the Romantic Poets, and so I have studied them more fairly extensively. His commentary on their ideas, very present in the Quartets, especially, helped me understand them better than anything else I have ever read. I'll try and put some of the parrallels down here, show where he and Wordsworth have intersected. (I need a break from good ol' Richard II - a play that I realized yesterday has commentary on salvific theology. Whoa.)

From The Dry Salvages:

The moments of happiness - not the sense of well-being,
Fruition, fulfilment, security or affection,
Or even a very good dinner, but the sudden illumination -
We had the experience but missed the meaning,
And approach to the meaning restores the experience
In a different form, beyond any meaning
We can assign to happiness...

This can be taken as a commentary on Wordsworth's Tintern Abbey. It is the story of a man who is coming back to a place that he was years ago. When he arrives, he reflects on his prior experiences, and his intermediate experiences of the first experience that he had had in his memory.

Five years have passed; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a sweet inland murmur...

Though absent long,
These forms of beauty have not been to me,
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart,
And passing even into my purer mind
With tranquil restoration...

This is much longer than Eliot's little section, but Eliot's section is parasitic, in my view, on Wordsworth, and so that makes sense. This is not even the sum of it, it's just showing that there is a similarity. Wordsworth goes on to say that, it's not just a matter of feeling, but a matter of understanding. Revisiting the experiences is when we:

...are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.

I take sight for an image of understanding (uncontroversially, I think). See, as Eliot says, we have moved through the feeling of an experience to accessing the being of that experience, the truth of it. If you go back up and check the order, you'll see it flows in the order of Wordsworth's poem. So, that's so far.

Eliot's not done yet, though.

I have said before that
That the past experience revived in the meaning
Is not the experience of one life only
But of many generations - not forgetting
Something that is probably quite ineffable:
The backward look behind the assurance
Of recorded history, the backward half-look
Over the shoulder, towards the primitive terror.

It's hard not to keep going, but this has helped me to understand something that used to puzzle me in Wordsworth. What did he mean, I always wondered, when he said in returning to the silvan Wye, he came with knew knowledge. (this is still progressing chronologically through Tintern)

...For I have learned to
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes
The still sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue.

The connections here should be fairly plain. The backward glance is what has possessed Wordsworth with this "still sad music of humanity." A little context (which, Eliot, who was very familiar with William Wordsworth knew plainly) is that here Wordsworth is approaching the Wye (the river flowing above Tintern Abbey) with the knowledge imparted to him through the terrible experiences he had gone through five years before. He was visiting the Wye after the French Revolution and the Terror (ah ha! "the silent Terror" Eliot's line gains a new meaning!) had disillusioned him from his radical political mindset and faith in humanity's ability to progress, and he had lost his fiancee to the political rift between France and England that prohibited travel. He didn't see the daughter that she was pregnant with at the time for years after the poem was written. It's no surprise that he prefaces the above quotes with these lines:

...And so I dare to hope
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was, when first
I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature fled; more like a man
Flying from something he dreads, than one
Who sought the thing he loved.

Well, this post has gotten long again. I hope that anyEliot fans unfamiliar with Wordsworth find it somewhat useful.

The Dry Salvages is a poem that really caught me up in the Incarnation. Which is just a good thing for a poem to do. Little Gidding also hits on the theme of memory and its proper use in the well-lived life. These lines struck me as excellent. I will end with them.

III
There are three conditions which often look alike
Yet differ completely, flourish in the same hedgerow:
Attatchment to self and to things and to persons, detatchment
From self and from things and from persons; and, growing between them,
indifference
Which resembles the others as death resembles life,
Being between two lifes - unflowering, between
The live and the dead nettle. This is the use of memory:
For liberation - not less of love but expanding of love beyond desire, and so
liberation
From the future as well as the past. Thus love of a country
Begins as attachment to our own field of action
And comes to find that action of little importance
Though never indifferent. History may be servitude,
History may be freedom. See, now they vanish,
The faces and places, with the self which, as it could, loved them,
To become renewed, transfigured, in another pattern.

I haven't posted anything in a while. So, I'm going to make up for my silence by making this very long and profound. I mean, you're going to walk away and go, "Hmmm" for like, hours.

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Haha! April Fools!

Happy Easter!

I am going to bed, and tomorrow I have the pleasure of going to Church to celebrate the Resurrection. Lent is ended, the fast is over and the new day brings the hope and light of a life of hope. Now to feast. Now to acknowledge our deep joy, and to feel it, truly, by acknowledging the source of it.

And that source of hope is Jesus' resurrection.

Christ is risen!

Chesterton and An Anthrocentric God

Introduction

This post has an introduction, some remarks that preface my other remarks. Any post that has an introduction, that is worthy of a preface of any sort, is bound to be a long post. For that I apologize, but for the content of the post, after the preface anyway, I do not yet apologize, because I think it is very important and probably true.

The other thing I'd like to say as way of introduction is that these thoughts are G.K. Chesterton's first, and mine secondly. But, allow me to point out that, in truth, G.K. Chesterton's thoughts were the medievals' first, and his secondly, and his great creativity was a reflection of antiquity past. Since I am a lesser man than G.K. Chesterton, I can draw from his distillment and press onward. The other thinker I am consciously considering is Saint Thomas Aquinas, who explicitly argues for an anthrocentric world in the Summa Theologicae, very convincingly.

What I plan on arguing is that the world is anthrocentric, that God created it for man, and not only for man's existence basically (a marvelous thing, truly) but for man's happiness, a more marvelous thing than existence because it is about existing well. I intend to do so from a Christian, theistic perspective, unapologetically. If you want a little more basic perspective, read Chesterton's Orthodoxy. He presents what I take, fundamentally, to be an anthrocentric universe there, and calls it Fairy Land philosophy. I don't necessarily agree with Chesterton entirely, since I'm not entirely clear with how to take my thoughts on him yet. I'm writing this post because of the the book and because of a conversation.

The Cosmos' Anthrocentricity

I am not sure how to argue this most successfully, because I can see several semi-successful lines of argumentation, which convince me, but may not others. I hope that a reader will be critical and charitable.

God created the world. This premise is evident from Revelation, and very arguable from creation without revelation. I believe that it can be shown that the only sufficient explanation for the existence of the world must be a first mover, for several reasons, but it's not my task here to argue a cosmological argument. Several good cosmological arguments may be found in Aquinas' Summa Theologiae and in his Summa Contra Gentiles. They're at the beginning of the book. A good modern analytical commentator to read, who thinks that Aquinas (in an unexpected place) argues successfully for a necessary first being is Norman Kretzmann, in Metaphysics of Theism. I think the First Way is probably successful, and one MacDonald "Aquinas Parisitic Cosmological Argument" shows how to read it. I'm not sure it's parasitic, like he says, but he distinguishes the proper kind of causal chain for Aquinas to argue from. But, anyway, I digress. All that I want to show is that God has created the world, and we know this from Genesis.

Of creation, Man is the most significant part. This is, to me, plain. Man was created last, and was the most significant of God's creations because we manifest soul in a higher way than any other being. If I was a medieval this is all that I would need to say, because obviously the more capacities proper to being a person possessed by an immaterial being, the "more noble" the being would be. So, animals manifest some aspects of personhood, but not in a significant way, but obviously, God manifests all significant elements of personhood perfectly. Man has limitations God does not, but we can still manifest attributes of personality that no other being in the physical created order does, namely reason, and so we are most like God.

Also, from revelation, we possess the imago dei.

There is a chain of being, of sorts, in which less significant parts exist to actualize more significant parts. Is it a stretch to say that fertile soil exists so plants can grow in it? Is it a stretch to see great pastureland exists so grazing animals can live on it? Without any of these things, they would cease to be. Taking a creator as true, then it seems evident that each part exists so that the system continues to exist.

Man's telos is happiness. We all desire happiness more than anything else, Aristotle remarks. Consider it. Ask yourself why you do this or that, press yourself on the desires of your heart, and you will come to this same conclusion. Happiness is the only thing that we want for itself, and not for the sake of something else. I want to be happy, and I will sacrifice many things to reach this happiness. If all men want happiness, then it is reasonable to figure that we were made to be happy, because anything that tends towards some end exists to fulfill that end. A good example is a seed. A seed tends invariably (if the situation is correct) towards becoming a tree. The tendency of a seed can be analogized to the tendency of mankind. As a seed tends towards being a tree, so does man tend towards being a happy man. This is what Aristotle calls our telos, and this is a version of his function argument.

As highest being, creation must move to bring man happiness. So, if there is a chain of being, and man is at the peak of it, then this chain of being must move in the service of mankind. And if it moves to serve mankind, this is best accomplished (as we would expect to find in a designed structure) by bring man to find happiness.

Answers to Modern Difficulties

One, the world seems impersonal. But this is only because this is what we've been taught. I can't see any fact derived from natural science that does not have the potential to bring man happiness. It must bring the scientists who found it happiness, or they would not have sought after it in the first place, right? It's worth thinking about!

Two, the world doesn't make me happy, why should I expect that it's trying to? The world is a source of great joy, which can be found in more than the pleasures of the scientist. Because we think we understand the world, people cannot find anymore joy in it sometimes. But they should look up again, and wonder in the fact that it is so regular. Chesterton's attempt is to show that the world is wonderful in this fact: it is the unfamiliar familiar. Though we seem to know it so well, we have no reason to think that it will remain the way that it is. And if we expect that it will change in some unexpected manner at any moment, every moment that it remains the way it is is the most wonderful moment. And so we can take pleasure and find joy in the fact that apple trees produce apples, for it is a miracle.

His argument on this point is a disproof of the belief in natural laws governing the interaction of physical objects. He takes the route of Hume, and buys the riddle of induction. The only reason to believe that something will happen again is that it's happened before. But this is not knowledge, this is only supposition. Just because something happens repeatedly does not show that it will happen again. To know it will happen again, we must make a deductive proof, but this is impossible. These are his words on the theories of a scientist, "They feel that because one incomprehensible thing constantly follows another incomprehensible thing the two somehow make up a comprehensible thing."

And so, it is not irrational to suppose that there is joy to be found in the mere fact that creation is continuing to exist, and that it is continuing to exist in a regular way. Looking at the world, again, with these eyes will enable us to see the world as a place that can bring us happiness.

The Mystery of God's Love

If we step back a bit and reevaluate all that I just said in this post thus far, it seems that fundamental fact I've belabored can be boiled down to something deeper: that it is God who desires our happiness and has done all to bring it about. If nature is moving to bring us happiness, it is because God has put it there and then pushed it in such a way that we can know it and find this joy.

But of course, now, like Chesterton, we have rediscovered Christianity. For didn't we damn ourselves in the beginning, when creation must have been the most wonderful? And didn't God condescend to earth and die for our redemption? Doesn't this show that God desires us to push us onto being what He has designed us to be? For the incarnation, atonement and resurrection provide eternal life, which in its weakest formulation is the avoidance of eternal pain, a major stumbling block towards finding happiness. But, really, we know that Eternal Life is much much more, it is the pursuit for eternity of happiness in the true wonder, God Himself. If nature is unpredictable, it is because there is an unknown God behind it that it is hinting at. And when in eternal glory, it will be God that we will be engaged in knowning. And this will be true bliss.

But, is God anthrocentric if the world is anthrocentric? Yes and no. This is the cosmological paradox portrayed by Dante. God both moves the world from the furthest sphere of heaven, and the cosmosrotates around God. For, though God seeks to make us happy, it is as an instrument to His own happiness. And this happiness He has never lacked. And here we have come upon a deeper mystery than the post has set out to answer, and so I have gone too far and will stop.

This article" from the National Reveiew is an indispensable guide for the morality of the Terri Schiavo case.

It is an interview with Robert George, professor of jurisprudence at Princeton, and authority on Natural Law. I highly recommend reading it.