Arizona Trip, Day 3!

We woke up early this morning and were out of our hotel room by 6am. We drove into Madera Canyon, only about 10 miles from where we are staying. We spent the whole day there, making several stops and seeing lots of different things. Here's a picture of the ruins of White House, an adobe house built in the 1880s. Jonathan and I were pretty happy today. Madera Canyon offers much more shade than the desert we were in yesterday, so it was much less tiring.
For the first part of the morning, we didn't come across many other birders; we were mostly alone on the trails we walked. But when we came to Madera Kubo, we saw a group of several birders on the side of the road. Knowing that the Flame-colored Tanager had been seen here, we went straight to where the big group was--sure that this was what they were all looking at. Sure enough there he was. And there he stayed for several minutes, allowing all to get a satisfying look. These tanagers belong in Mexico. But this one particular bird has come back to the same spot every Spring since 2003. We wonder how many more Springs he'll be alive and able to come back here to grace the people of Arizona with his presence.
After lunch, we took a little hike on the Vault Mine Trail. This was a nice walk, offering a couple of new bird species for us (Arizona Woodpecker, and Magnificent Hummingbird) and some beautiful scenery.
We finished off the afternoon at the Santa Rita Lodge. This place has several bird feeders on its grounds. We just sat down nearby and waited for the birds to come to us--a nice, peaceful way to end the day. This was another place that attracts birders, so we weren't alone here either.
We got back to the hotel a little after 5pm, and are now enjoying a relaxing evening. Here's the list of birds that we saw today in Madera Canyon, more or less in the order that we saw them (life birds are indicated by asterisk).

1. Acorn Woodpecker
2. Northern Cardinal
3. Hermit Thrush
4. Chipping Sparrow
5. White-crowned Sparrow
6. Cassin's Vireo* (lifer for Jonathan; I actually saw this once in '05 with my Ornithology class)
7. Mexican Jay*
8. Lesser Goldfinch
9. Ladder-backed Woodpecker*
10. Wilson's Warbler
11. Broad-billed Humminbird
12. Turkey Vulture
13. Bridled Titmouse*
14. Black-throated Gray Warbler
15. White-breasted Nuthatch
16. Ash-throated Flycatcher
17. Yellow-rumped Warbler
18. Painted Redstart
19. Flame-colored Tanager** (2 asterisks cause it's just THAT cool)
20. Black Phoebe
21. Scott's Oriole*
22. Hooded Oriole
23. Hutton's Vireo*
24. Red-naped Sapsucker*
25. Mourning Dove
26. Black-chinned Hummingbird
27. Rufous Hummingbird
28. Black-headed Grosbeak
29. House Finch
30. Townsend's Warbler
31. White-throated Swift
32. American Robin
33. Pine Siskin*
34. House Wren
35. Arizona Woodpecker*
36. Magnificent Hummingbird*
37. Lazuli Bunting
38. Bewick's Wren
39. Red-tail Hawk
40. Cooper's Hawk
41. Common Raven


Final count of lifers for the day: 11

Arizona Trip, Day 2!

Boy oh boy was today a long day. It seems like we took every wrong turn that we could take, followed bad directions, and just generally got to see a lot more of the desert around Tucson than we planned on seeing. We were gone 13 hours from our hotel room! I will add pictures to this post later, at the moment I'm just too exhausted to sort through them.

First stop in the morning was the Sonora Desert Museum just outside of Saguaro National Park West. It opened at 7:30, and we got there around then. That was a good idea because it got really crowded later in the day. We were out of the museum by 12:30, which was good, because it was getting warm and bright. The temperatures were in the low 80s, but the constant sun was wearing. Saguaros don't cast much of a shadow. Anyway, the desert museum was really cool, and had some cool birds in aviaries (Yellow Grosbeak!) and in a live free flight show that we saw - but those don't count birding wise. Here's the list from the grounds (asterisks are lifers - I don't have energy to highlight the excitement).

1. Cactus Wrens (everywhere)
2. Curve-billed Thrasher
3. Gila Woodpecker
4. Pyrrhuloxia*
5. Mourning Doves (nesting right on the path)
6. White-crowned Sparrow
7. House Sparrow
8. White-winged Doves
9. Turkey Vulture
10. Cooper's Hawk
11. Red-tailed Hawk
12. Chihuahuan Raven*
13. Wilson's Warbler
14. Black Vulture*
15. Costa's Hummingbird
16. Canyon Towhee*
17. Lesser Goldfinch
18. Verdin
19. Gambel's Quail

After wearing ourself out at the museum, we headed off down the road to the visitor's center of Saguaro National Park West. We ate lunch in our car, and then checked out a slide show about the Native American's perspective of the Sonora. We then just lolled around on the deck there for awhile to enjoy the birds and relax in the shade. It turned out to be pretty productive, none the less.

1. Verdin
2. Nashville Warbler
3. Hooded Oriole
4. "Western" Flycatcher (didn't vocalize)
5. Gilded Flicker*
6. Gila Woodpecker
7. Cactus Wren
8. Turkey Vultures
9. Red-tailed Hawks
10. Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
11. House Finch
12. Pyrrhuloxia

After resting for a bit there, drinking some fluids, and feeling generally better, we set off on a misguided and torturous trek over to the East unit of Saguaro National Park (which is actually on the opposite side of the city - there is no East-West freeway). After more than an hour, we stopped at the very Northern trail-head. A short walk there gathered a few birds, and then we ate dinner at the main area of that unit. We also took the loop over there, and in all we gathered these few birds:

1. Brewer's Sparrow
2. Black-throated Sparrow
3. Gila Woodpecker
4. Cactus Wren
5. Gambel's Quail
6. Verdin
7. Common Raven
8. White-winged Dove
9. Mourning Dove
10. Canyon Towhee
11. Curve-billed Thrasher
12. Ash-throated Flycatcher

There may have been other birds, but we don't think we forgot to put any lifers. So far, this trip isn't producing enormous day-totals of species. Tomorrow, however, is Madera Canyon!

Arizona, Here We Come!

Hi folks! Libby and I are at the hotel on the first night of our trip. We're going to try and basically live blog our trip. Every night we will post some pictures, and talk about what we did. Mostly it's for our sake (saved for posterity!), but maybe some of you will be interested, too.

We left Libby's parent's house at 6:15 in the morning, and we got to Blythe around 9:00 (we think). Here's the Colorado River as we cross it on the 10:


Here's a quick picture of the welcome to Arizona sign. They had a check-point for commercial vehicles and livestock, but we didn't have to stop.


Libby drove from Blythe to Pheonix. She did a bang-up job: the miles flowed by to the rich bass voice of our narrated Dean Koontz novel. This is both of our first Dean Koontz novel, and we're both entertained and entertained by it. Why the heck does he take so long to develop things? Why does he have to use so many bizarre metaphors?


Our first birding stop was in Tucson, at Arthur Pack Park. We don't have any pictures from that stop. We ate lunch, and then we walked around looking at the birds. We had our first Arizona lifer there, the common Gila Woodpecker (both a male and a female). The species from that stop where:

1. House Sparrow
2. European Starling
3. House Finch
4. Mourning Doves
5. Great-tailed Grackles
6. Gila Woodpecker
7. White-winged Dove
8. White-crowned Sparrow
9. Cactus Wren
10. Verdin
11. Gambel's Quail
12. Brewer's Blackbird
13. American Coot
14. Northern Shoveler
15. Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
16. Yellow-Rumped Warbler
17. Red-tailed Hawk

We saw a pair of Verdin nesting. Their nest is a really neat looking, almost football sized, ball of thorns and twigs. We were surprised to see one of them disappear into it through a hole at the base of the nest.

We then drove on to Green Valley, where we checked into our hotel and took a little rest. After settling in and getting replenished, we headed off to Florida Wash (pronounced Flor-EE-duh), on the way up to Madera Canyon (where we plan to go on Wednesday). Florida Wash is famous for Buff-collared Nightjars, and Rufous-winged Sparrows. We didn't see either of those species, but we had a wonderful walk. It's really beautiful, the air was cool, and the sun was setting - casting rich light on the Santa Rita Mountains and the dry grass. Here's the stile that takes you over the barbed-wire fence:


This is the direction we walked up the wash. Those are the Santa Rita Mountains in the background. Madera Canyon is in those mountains.


The trip wasn't really birdy, but it was, again, wonderful. We did see a few birds - three new. We hadn't seen a whip-poor-will before, and we also saw our first Lucy's Warblers and a male Broadbilled Hummingbird (it was partly silhouetted against the light, and facing away, so we're still looking forward to seeing more of them).

1. Verdin
2. Northern Cardinal (this was exciting - a very pretty female)
3. Black-tailed Gnatcatcher
4. Costa's Hummingbird
5. Lucy's Warbler
6. House Finch
7. Bell's Vireo
8. Common Ravens
9. Lesser Goldfinches
10. Whip-poor-will (this was seen both flying and sitting: our first good look at a resting nightjar).
11. Ash-throated Flycatcher
12. Black-throated Sparrow

After dinner, we saw a Curve-billed Thrasher right outside the door to our hotel. So that's another lifer for today - bringing our total to five.

We had a flycatcher from a distance that we couldn't identify, and a lot of movement in the bushes that we couldn't see very well. That's all for now! More pictures and text to come, tomorrow!

From 5th grade...

This past week in class my students and I were preparing for Easter. Each day, we would read the account of a different event in holy week, and discuss it. Here's part of a conversation that took place right after reading the account of the Last Supper:

Me: Question--How often does Jesus say we ought to take the Lord's Supper?
Student 1: On the 1st Sunday of every month!
Me: Actually, no.
Student 2: Every other Sunday!
Me: Nope.

This kind of thing went on for a little while with other suggestions being made, including "Every Sunday," "On the Sabbath," and "Never." Finally, a boy who must have looked back at the text said, "He never says how often to do it...just that we should."

Which is what I was getting at. But I didn't expect for it to take so long. :-)

Medley

There are a lot of things on my mind at the moment, but I haven't found time to post when I've felt the inclination. Hence no posts!

However, there is a lot going on in my head. I'm thinking about a trip to Arizona this Easter Break for birdwatching, Crime and Punishment (just finished this, and definitely want to comment on it), wild weather, Holy Week, Anglicanism's internal struggles, so and and so forth. Did you know that last Sunday was the Feast of the Annunciation? Libby and I celebrated joyfully on Monday by breaking our Lenten fast. Last weekend Bishop Ackerman of the diocese of Quincy came out - that was pretty neat. Our newest nephew was baptized, and Libby and I are his godparents. We've been busier than average!

All that has to take a quick (very quick) breath for this: the cover art of the new Harry Potter novels is here. Check out the different versions here: http://www.the-leaky-cauldron.org/index.php?articleID=9653. There are three versions: the UK kids' version, the UK adults' version and the American version. The UK adults' version tells us nothing we didn't already know, but the other two have some tantalizing info.

American version:

What is that broken down structure where Harry is standing? Is it the gateway to death from the Hall of Mysteries? I wouldn't be surprised. What is that thing around his neck?

UK version:

Dobby, why are you riding on Harry's back, carrying the sword of Gryffindor? Is it you? If it is, are you going to kill Voldemort? Wouldn't that be Lord of the Ringish if the little Gollum creature ends it all? He's also the most insignificant creature in some ways, so it might not be surprising.

Something You May Not Want to Know

There is a fellow named Schmidt who has produced a pain index for different stinging insects of the order Hymenoptera. Apparently he has been stung by most of them, and did us the good service of rating the severity of the pain. On this scale, the honeybee is a 2.0, between the sweat bee (1.0) and the bullet ant (4.0+).

Here's the scale on Wikipedia.

The most painful stinging insect in the United States is apparently the Tarantula Hawk. I think I've seen those before, mainly in the local deserts. Fortunately they're not aggressive at all. Here's how one researcher described the pain: ""To me, the pain is like an electric wand that hits you, inducing an immediate, excruciating pain that simply shuts down one’s ability to do anything, except, perhaps, scream. Mental discipline simply does not work in these situations. The pain for me lasted only about three minutes, during which time the sting area was insensitive to touch, i.e., a pencil point poked near the sting resulted only in a dull deep pressure pain." (From DesertUsa).

You should also check out descriptions of the Bullet Ant's Sting from Wikipedia.

Ironic

Jonathan and I have been very irresponsible. We've been driving a car with its registration expired. We didn't mean to at first. The little sticker and bill never came in the mail. And even after we realized that we'd have to take the initiative to get it taken care of, we kept forgetting about it.

But when you're living with a secret like that, things happen. You start to notice all the cars with the pretty blue 2007 tags and feel a little down. And you notice the cars like you, with the old red tags, and think, "At least I'm not the only one." But mostly, you notice cops. And hope they don't notice you.

Well, our guilty consciences finally got the best of us. We knew that we'd have to go to the DMV to take care of it, but we'd have to go on a Saturday because of work. And it's only open one Saturday a month from 8:00-12:00. Tomorrow is that Saturday. So, for a while now, we've been planning on spending tomorrow morning at the DMV making retribution for our sin. And I was really looking forward to it--to having a clean conscience. And we'd made it without any cops catching us!

Until this morning.

On my way to work, I saw the lights in my rear-view mirror and I didn't have to think very long about why I was getting pulled over. It was the red tags.

I felt like my situation belonged in that Alanis Morissette song "Ironic." I mean, I got pulled over for having expired tags the DAY before I was going to fix it.

And THEN: this afternoon I went to get a smog check in preparation for tomorrow morning. I went to a place in Santa Ana called Auto Check. All they do is smog checks, so they're really quick. Turns out they can also renew registration! What a great service! So I ended up getting it all taken care of in 15 minutes. Oh, and the lady there had a nice smile, and offered me a free soda. I just wanted to hug her.

So, no DMV for us....but we will be showing up to court to take care of a ticket I got for something that was months overdue, but would be taken care of just hours later.

Your sins will find you out!

Spring Fever

Spring has hit really hard and fast here in Southern California. The last couple of days, temperatures have been in the 90s, and that's way above average for March. The result?

Every tree is budding. Flowers are blooming, pollen is thick in the air, and the birds are coming. Spring is my favorite season for birding, and Libby and I have been struck with the particular form of Spring Fever that affects Birders.

We're not so bad, really, we went to Santa Barbara the weekend before last, and the only interesting bird we saw was a California Thrasher. This weekend we're not planning on birding, either. But in the last few weeks, we've seen a lot of really fun birds!

Four weekends ago we went to Tucker Wildlife Sanctuary and had two new birds: Fox Sparrow and Lewis Woodpeckers (the woodpeckers were actually at the gate to Black Star Canyon).

The weekend after that, we went to Bonnelli Regional Park and had a more than 50 bird day. Our new species were Painted Redstart and Swamp Sparrow, and the Painted Redstart was really neat. It's a strikingly beautiful little bird, well worth the trip to San Dimas and the entrance fee to the Park. Click on the link to see somebody else's really nice pictures. The Redstart is a Mexican species that extends into New Mexico and Arizona, so it's a pretty rare bird around here.

Last weekend we had a great time birding with Biola's ornithology class. They went to Tucker, so we went back, too, and we had a great day for Sparrows. There were Lincoln's, Fox, and Song all at the same feeders (that was a really helpful lesson for me on striped sparrows) plus white-crowned and golden-crowned sparrows, too. The Lincoln's was a new bird for us, but the highlight of the trip was when Rafe Payne saw a Lawrence's Goldfinch across Modjeska Creek from the feeders. We would never have seen that without him, and we were so grateful and really excited by it. The Lawrence's is a bird Libby and I have been wanting to see ever since we started birding. It's also an interesting bird because it's a real wanderer, and so it's hard to go somewhere where it's a sure thing you'll see it.

For me personally, Spring Birding Fever also means that I can't help but wander down to the creek on my way to and from work every day. Last year there were probably 5 or 6 species of migrating warblers that used the trees and bushes down there, plus orioles, tanagers, grosbeaks, etc.

The Ball and the Cross

Chesterton's work in The Ball and the Cross is very different than Manalive. It's still his kind of fiction, full of quotable sayings and moving descriptions, but it's not quite as cohesive. I chalk that down to it being published month by month in a periodical instead of all at once as a novel. Of course, Charles Dickens pulled the trick of publishing a novel month by month perfectly seamlessly, but we needn't expect Chesterton to be Dickens.

Considering TBATC as a whole from the perspective of just having finished it, I'm not sure whether it is better or worse than Manalive. It's a little harder to understand, but I think that may be due to subtlety. It's also not as moving, but that's not surprising since it's not about how one man should live, but how a society should run.

The story focuses on the continually frustrated struggle of two Scotchman to have a duel for the honor of the Virgin Mary. One is Mr. Turnbull, a fiery atheist who has never in his life been taken seriously, putting out a little newspaper that continually defies the world with his blasphemies. The other is Evan MacIan, a young Scotchman just come to London to make his way in the world. He's a Roman Catholic, grown up in the wildest parts of the highlands, away from the Presbyterian influence of that country. He's also a Jacobite, and steps into London from an isolation that dates back to that era of rebellion. When he reads in the window of Turnbull's shop that the Mother of God is a common harlot, covering her misdeed with a fanciful mythology, he breaks the shop window in a fury to reach Turnbull, and challenges him to a duel.

However, it's not as easy as it sounds, apparently, to fight a duel in early 20th century England. They must flee magistrates, police, liberal Christians, pagan professors, drunken Gentlemen, and an increasing mutual sense of phileo. The story all ends up in an insane asylum with Dr. Lucifer - and a spectacular miracle.

The story is a warning against the effects of modernism on society, it's a not designed to showcase a debate between Christians and atheists. Turnbull and MacIan are equally protagonists, and by the end of the book, they find themselves on the same side against modernity's proffered insanity. Perhaps it can offer advice for an era in which many people are concerned about the relationship of the Church and the State, though I'm not sure anyone wants to hear what Chesterton has to say. Here is what I think is the point of the book - MacIan is speaking to Turnbull:

"When I saw that, I saw everything; I saw the Church and the world. The Church in its earthly action has really touched morbid things--tortures and bleeding visions and blasts of extermination. The Church has had her madnesses, and I am one of them. I am the massacre of St. Bartholomew. I am the Inquisition of Spain. I do not say that we have never gone mad, but I say that we are fit to act as keepers to our enemies. Massacre is wicked even with a provocation, as in the Bartholomew. But your modern Nietzsche will tell you that massacre would be glorious without a provocation. Torture should be violently stopped, though the Church is doing it. But your modern Tolstoy will tell you that it ought not to be violently stopped whoever is doing it. In the long run, which is most mad--the Church or the world? Which is madder, the Spanish priest who permitted tyranny, or the Prussian sophist who admired it? Which is madder, the Russian priest who discourages righteous rebellion, or the Russian novelist who forbids it? That is the final and blasting test. The world left to itself grows wilder than any creed. A few days ago you and I were the maddest people in England. Now, by God! I believe we are the sanest. That is the only real question-- whether the Church is really madder than the world. Let the rationalists run their own race, and let us see where they end. If the world has some healthy balance other than God, let the world find it. Does the world find it? Cut the world loose," he cried with a savage gesture. "Does the world stand on its own end? Does it stand, or does it stagger?"

That's a good question.

Ecumenical Lenten Dialogue

Mere Comments posted a link that's worth reading. It's both witty and thought provoking, so you should give it a click.

Lenten Fare

Interactive Weather Map

I love weather, and today I found a new way to get a look at its goings ons. Weather.com has added a new feature to their page that's sort of like Google Maps for weather. You can keep track of the latest storm front on an interactive page that allows you to zoom in, click and drag to move around, and has a couple of different layers. You can look at the cloud cover for the entire world, if you zoom out far enough.

It has some problems, and it's still a beta, so that's not surprising, but it's a neat little feature that just makes weather radar imagery more accessible. Here is the: Interactive Weather Map

Manalive!

G.K. Chesterton doesn't write on a wide variety of themes, but the issues he hits on are the biggest. He writes about things on such a wide scope using such imprecise generalizations that it can be fairly bewildering to attempt and pin him down. Perhaps this is one of the reasons he writes such good fiction.

Manalive is typical Chesterton, and that means it's good. It's about society, as individuals, trying to deal with someone who wants to grasp life by the horns. It's about a man trying to be alive.

Innocent Smith is, therefore, the most remarkable person in the book. I am not sure, however, that he is the main character. In some ways, he is not even the most important character. He is a catalyst for the main characters: the residents of the boarding house into which he catapults during a frantic windstorm. As such, we cannot identify with him, who is too far from normal, but we can be changed and inspired by him to become a little less normal. We can, like the boarding house residents, be inspired to be a little more alive.

Smith's trick is to do all the parts of his life in such a way that defies convention but gains for him their essential joys. He robs his own house to appreciate property, he repeatedly remarries his own wife to appreciate marriage, and he travels around the world to discover his own home all over again as the place to which he belongs. All of his outrageous adventures, however, are told through others' words. These normal people's lives are changed in one of two ways: either they reject him as dangerously unusual or embrace him as dangerously unusual. As readers, we are offered the same option.

I've decided what I want to do with Innocent Smith - you should read the book and find out what you would like to do with him, too.

Thomas Nathanael Moothart

The first thing we wanted to know when we got back from Mammoth was whether or not our brand new nephew had arrived. We were happy to find out that he (finally!) had, and we were happy to be able to go and see him the very next evening (last night). He's extremely cute and tiny, and it was fun to watch him sleep, open his eyes for a few minutes or less, and go back to sleep, again. He sleeps very well, and that's admirable.

I posted those pictures on Flickr, too, so you can see those here. Emily has posted about him, too (no small wonder, he being her small wonder). She might post the birth story eventually, and that's quite a saga to hear.



This is Libby holding her little baby nephew. She had a headache from a hard day at work, but it didn't deter her from wanting to see her nephew!



Here are our two favorite nephews. Jonathan is going to have to learn how to be a big brother now, and how to share.

Mammoth Trip

Well, we made it back and we're in one piece (for the moment).

We had a lot of fun skiing around and hanging out at the cabin. Joe Profita came up and spent some time skiing around, too. On Sunday, the new snow was so thick that we could hardly go anywhere. Dad made some great little trails around the cabin using snow shoes, and we also took a jaunt around the lake.

The most exciting moment may have been when Libby's boots started breaking. The soles started separating from the uppers right at the toe, making it impossible to get up after falling. We were up above the fallen tree on the mine road near the cabin, so I went down to get some snow shoes while Dad fitted her skis with a handy dandy strap to help her get home.

Here are some pictures:



This is the cabin on Saturday morning, I think. It might have been Friday afternoon, but I can't remember. I'm pretty sure it's Saturday morning.



This is the cabin on Sunday morning. It had been snowing on us consistently at this point from the moment we arrived at a very windy trail head.

There are more pictures, but I won't clutter up the blog with them. They're at our Flickr account. You can see them here.

Snow Birds

Libby and I are heading up with my parents to Mammoth tomorrow. We're going to spend the weekend at the cabin.

The weather reports are saying that it should precipitate all weekend, but it sounds like it might be forebodingly warm. The snow level is at 8,000 feet and it's February! I hope it stays at that level, and we don't get rained on at all. That would not be any fun.

Libby and I'll try and remember to bring a camera with us for the trip, so we can record it for posterity. There isn't a whole lot of snow on the ground, so it won't be quite the winter wonderland that it normally is. All the same, it will be interesting to experience a new side of the mountain's winter.

Jonathan Learns Ballistics

New Post!

Oh my goodness, how Libby and I have slacked on posting on this blog! We haven't been extraordinarily busy, though we've had a few things to do. I worked today (boo!) and Libby is feeling under the weather. It seems that happened to me quite a bit this January, but February is here, and so is a virus for the Libster.

I ought to link to a video posted by Emily of her son (our nephew) being insufferably cute. I'm going to do the YouTube visual link so it should show up in another post (how annoying!). We're all waiting for our new nephew to show up any time now, so we'll have even more cuteness to go around on the Moothart side of the family.

Just for fun, here is a picture of our backyard finches. We've got a healthy number (dozens) of goldfinches and house finches eating the thistle seed we put out every day. The lesser goldfinches are fairly vibrant (as you can see below) but the few American goldfinches are actually a dull brown. I'm looking forward to the spring, when they'll turn yellow all over and outshine their smaller cousins.



Here, just for fun, I'll post a spring American goldfinch from Bolsa Chica last spring:



Spring is coming quickly!

Coldest Walk to Work, Yet.

The temperature when I arrived at work this morning (in Fullerton, according to weather.com): 36 degrees.

And it's warmer today than it was this weekend; I'm glad.

Disneyland!

And California Adventure too.

The best Christmas present I received from a student was two complimentary tickets to the Happiest Place on Earth. Last Wednesday, Jonathan and I set out to enjoy a day there. We were actually expecting to only be able to get into CA Adventure with these tickets, but were pleasantly surprised to learn that they acted as park-hoppers. We started out at CA Adventure:


Our first stop was the Tower of Terror. And this is what it makes you feel like:


After also riding Soarin' Over California, we decided to brave the crowds over at Disneyland. Here's Jonathan on Main Street:


And here we are in front of the castle:


Since there were about a million people there, and we hadn't paid to get in, we just decided to take it easy and not stress over the crowds. So, we went on some of the smaller rides, and just enjoyed being there, not wanting to spend the whole day waiting in line. Here's a picture of us enjoying the Mark Twain after dark.


We also got to see a pretty neat fireworks show after which the streets were sprinkled with "snow." A very fun day, indeed!

Oh, the perks of being a teacher.

Big News!

Harry Potter VII's title has been announced! The release date, unfortunately, has not. However, it's still exciting to hear the title. It is...

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

CNN's Article

What's it mean? Hallows brings to mind All Hallows Eve, and that brings to mind death - which isn't surprising as the title's adjective (adverb masquerading as an adjective?) is deathly. Hallowed really means "revered" or "set apart as holy" according to dictionary.com, which sounds about right, though that's a verb and this is apparently a noun. I'm assuming a hallow is a place that is hallowed. Maybe I'm wrong, though. Of course, that might make deathly an adverb after all, and hallows a verb. That's kind of awkward, since you're using an article beforehand. It can be done, though. I could, say, write a story called Bob Cratchet and the Christmas Merryings, and that would make sense, no?

How can deathly alter it in a meaningful way? Might it be speaking of the location of Harry's parents' deaths? That's a location he intended to visit at the end of the last book. Will his final encounter with Voldemort occur there? Will it refer to how people treat Harry after (if) he dies? Does it refer to how people worship Voldemort now? Perhaps it's something to do with Horcruxes - are horcruxes a deathly hallow? Do they hallow Voldemort?

Deathly sounds negative to me - the connotation is dark and morbid. Voldemort seems to be the sort of person who is hallowed in a deathly way. Of course, that's become Voldemort causes death, not because he is death (though he's that, too, in a way - though he flees it interminably he hovers at the edge of it through his evil). His chosen telos is to never die, though.

Another possibility might be that death should be revered and accepeted. Voldemort shuns it, but we know that it's not the greatest possible evil that can befall someone (see Dumbledore in Pheonix).

Oh man, this is so exciting. I'm geeking out over here! It's almost like reading a page from the book.

Sundown Towns

I've never heard of these before, but they're a real tragic element of American history. Apparently there was a collection of towns during the post-reconstruction era that prohibited people of color (any non-white, sometimes including Jews) from being in a town after dark. These were called Sundown Towns. These towns also used active or passive means to dissuade people from living in certain communities, also. Many, many towns attempted a maintain a solely white populace. It's pretty surprising.

Dr. James Leowen, a sociologist from the University of Vermont, published a book about this in which he estimates that the number of towns discriminating in their choice of residents through various social pressures may have been 10,000 or more - he thinks perhaps the majority of cities in the US. Also, these towns were mostly in the North or West - not in former slave states.

He has a website set up with a list of all the towns that are possible Sundown towns listed by state.

So, I thought, I'll check and see if Santa Ana had this kind of problem in the past. Turns out Santa Ana is listed as a definite sundown town (though it's also listed as "surely not" at the moment: unsurprising). In 1906, the city council had Chinatown burnt to the ground because they found one leper living there. Hundreds of people came to watch the show. That's very sad.

La Mirada isn't on here because it's a very young city. Buena Park is listed as possible - this is determined by the lack of Black people known to be living in the city prior to the 70s (after the Federal Government mandated fair housing). Only one Black person was listed as living in the city during the 1960s. La Habra is listed as probable because they consistently had only four or six black people living in their town from the 30s through 60s.

Very sad.

Rowleys!

HMS Rowley was an actual ship during World War II. It was an American built destroyer serving with the British navy through Lend Lease. It wasn't sunk! but it was scrapped at the war's end.

Also, I had a great great aunt who served as a missionary in China. I'm not sure her last name was Rowley, but I think it must have been because here's Grace Rowley. It's not much, but it's pretty cool to see a family member displayed in a university's Chinese study collection! Too bad the exhibit was back in 2003.

Cold!

Walking to work in the cold is an interesting proposition. Living here in Southern California, I don't really expect to have to ever do it.

When I got to work today it was 41, though. The night before last was at least a record 39 (the nearest thermometer for weather.com is in Fullerton). I remember the occasional near freeze when I was a kid, but it's still November and just the week before last it was in the 90s. The over all result is that the walk to work has become nippy! So nippy, in fact, that when I stepped into the warm office, I pulled off my wool cap and had to consciously resist the urge to stomp the snow off my feet. We probably won't have a white Christmas this year, but boy it feels like it.

Curious

The Chronicle of Philanthropy recently published an article discussing an economist's recent book claiming that religious people give more than liberal people, and thus, conservatives actually give a greater share of their income to charity than liberals. Here's the article: "Charity's Political Divide"

The general idea:

"In Who Really Cares: The Surprising Truth About Compassionate Conservatism (Basic Books), Arthur C. Brooks finds that religious conservatives are far more charitable than secular liberals, and that those who support the idea that government should redistribute income are among the least likely to dig into their own wallets to help others."

This is encouraging because people who support small government need to give to the poor. After all, if it's not the government's job, someone else needs to do it. Hopefully that somebody else will be the Church. Not that this means we have done enough. No, I agree with Ralph Nader, quoted in the article above,

"Everyone should be giving more to charity."

A Good Start

All the English teachers know it. They tell their students over and over again. You've got to have a hook at the beginning of a story to keep your readers reading. This is something I've lately been appreciating about Dickens as I'm reading his Christmas Books. He's really got it down. Here are some examples:

The opening lines of A Christmas Carol:

"Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to.
Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail."

C'mon! That's a good beginning!

And then there are the opening lines of The Cricket on the Hearth:

"The kettle began it! Don't tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle said. I know better. Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record to the end of time that she couldn't say which of them began it; but I say the kettle did. I ought to know, I hope! The kettle began it, full five minutes by the little waxy-faced Dutch clock in the corner, before the Cricket uttered a chirp....Contradict me and I'll say ten."

Don't you just want to read that story?

One more. I just began the last Christmas Book, The Haunted Man, this morning. The opening lines:

"Everybody said so.
Far be it from me to assert that what everybody says must be true. Everybody is, often, as likely to be wrong as right. In the general experience, everybody has been wrong so often, and it has taken in most instances such a weary while to find out how wrong, that the authority is proved to be fallible. Everybody may sometimes be right; 'but that's no rule,' as the ghost of Giles Scroggins says in the balled.
The word, Ghost, recalls me.
Everybody said he looked like a haunted man. The extent of my present claim for everybody is, that they were so far right. He did."

Ok. Don't you just want to read that story? Me too. I think I'll do that right now. Good-bye.

What the Dickens?

The above phrase has been making me chuckle for a while now. Why? Because I am immersing myself in Charles Dicken's fiction - that's why. Inspired by Libby's reading of the Christmas Carol to her class, I decided to remedy my own woeful exposure to the Victorian great and pick up the Dickens books we happened to own, and then I even read them.

I must say I am pleasantly surprised. My last exposure to Dickens was David Copperfield, which I read in 9th Grade. The result was that I aced the class (I got extra credit by the page!) without even having to worry about the final. I got like 30% of the possible credit in the class from David Copperfield. That was pretty nice. The problem was the book was very long, and I remember being fairly bored with it by the end.

So, I didn't really develop a taste for Dickens that read-through, you see? This may be an argument against exposing people to great fiction before they're ready, though that's not clearly correct. It merits some thought, though.

Anyway, here at 23, I can't get enough of Oliver Twist or Great Expectations (our two tomes here at home). They are rivetting fiction, if a little wordy at times. I found you could sort of skim some of the long descriptive passages and keep the plot flowing quickly.

Oliver Twist has been made into quite a few movies. I saw Roman Polanski's version last year, and I enjoyed it very much, and I know I've seen at least one live action movie besides that in my childhood. I really liked Oliver and Company when I was a kid. I was, however, totally not prepared for the actual book. I really didn't know how it was going to end! It was really exciting.

Thematically, it is harsh. It's much harsher in the narrator's tone than Great Expectations - perhaps because it's an earlier novel. The beginning was especially vindictive toward the English system of caring for the poor, and it was so vitrolic that I found it hard to actually countenance. Never the less, as uncomfortable as such intense sentiments can be, that uncomfortableness is healthy in urging self-examination. It's remarkable to me that someone can write criticism particularly aimed at a unique system of social care, and hit home in the hearts of people completely removed from that system. That's a sign of good writing.

I especially liked Nancy's dilemma with Bill and repentance. There were powerful moments of potential redemption and doom, and while Nancy ends up alright, I imagine, you cannot but hurt for her. Her heroic work on behalf of Oliver is wonderful.

Another surprising element of the novel was Fagin's complicitness in the death of Nancy. He always struck me as a funny, happy, kind character in the movies - but in the book he is a truly evil man with happy accidents. You can and ought to pity him, but he is as guilty as sin. I also didn't know he was a Jew, which seems a little anti-semitic.

I also love how the conflict in the middle of the novel is driven by the fear of Oliver's entering into a life of crime and sin. The conflict is between good and evil, and the cost is a young boy's soul. That is a theme to benefit our culture! Morals matter, per se, and I really cared that he did not become a thief. This is only a problem of course, if being a thief is a very bad thing for Oliver to become, and I think the tension arises directly from our moral intuition. Thus, it's amazingly powerful, and great literature!

Great Expectations was very different than Oliver Twist. For one, it was written by the main character, and you can tell from the tone how he will turn out. In other words, he's reflecting as an educated gentleman on the fortunes of a young boy that begins as a blacksmith's apprentice. It turns out there are surprises in store for him on the way, but the fact that he is the one writing the book helps to retain a healthy love for the character even through his worst moments. And, it will be clear to any reader, he has some foul moments.

The most obviously wonderful themes about Great Expectations (of which I had no preconceived notions at all) was the way that the weakest give the most away. The benefactor of Pip is the most obvious (by the way, Phil, you should read the book if only for the main character's name) example, but there are others. For example, it's Oliver that helps the convict. Pip never receives assistance from his richest acquaintances, but all of his poor friends and family will give anything to him, even though he is not deserving.

It is teaching that class is indivisive to actual human nature. What I mean is that, though you can be poor, if you are a good human, you have many more riches than the richest gentleman. This is of course a romantic ideal about human nature, but the story is persuasive regarding its truth. Virtue is the best thing that can be had, and it comes at a cheap price for Joe, Biddy, and even Abel. It comes at a high price for Pip and Estella, but this price is not the weight of money, but of experience.

Humility thus arises as the highest virtue. I think that's the most important point the book might be trying to make. Look, if you think you're more than you are (a human being) you are not more or less than anyone else in th eyes of God (though unmentioned, this seems the clearest way to express what I mean - that they are equal on an eternal plane).

So, anyway, those are some of my thoughts on the books. I have more, but this is already quite long. Adios!

Thanksgiving!

It's less than a week to Thanksgiving, now. That's good because I really like Thanksgiving.

For one, there's a lot of good food. I can't get enough of turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, or stuffing. Really, I can't. That's why I generally eat too much of it for my stomach to handle.

Secondly, there's the giving thanks. I like the hymns, the harvest memorials, the happy people filled with gratitude. I like the life I lead and the gifts God's given me.

Thirdly, Thanksgiving is Christmas-season Eve. I don't go shopping the next day, but I do start the Christmas music the next day. Christmas season is a happy and glorious time of year, and I can't wait to immerse myself in it completely. That can happen this year on the 24th of November. Hurrah!

Really, the last reason is why I'm really looking forward to Thanksgiving.

Happy Anniversary to Us!

One year ago today, Jonathan and I entered into marital bliss. So, we took a little trip down to San Diego this weekend, for the purpose of celebrating this wonderful thing.

On Friday, we saw Polar Bears at the San Diego Zoo:


On Saturday, we walked around San Diego, and saw the U.S.S. Midway.

And then we went to Balboa Park. This is a fountain with a botanical thingy in the background:

There were really cool buildings, like this one:

And this is a really cool guy:

On Sunday, we stopped by Dana Point on our way home. This is the Pilgrim. Isn't she perty?

Hawk Migration

This is something I would like to see: a river of hawks so thick they look like gnats ina swarm. Apparently it's a phenomenon you can observe every year in Veracruz, Mexico.

E-bird has an article written about it that helps incite enthusiasm.

Here's a blog dedicated to the phenomenon: Veracruz Hawk Watch. It has some photos from the Spring migration that give an idea of the immensity of this thing.

Remember, Remember

We commemorated this Guy Fawkes Day the only REAL way there is: we got together with some friends and burned a "Guy" in the fire pit. You can see more pictures from the event (and a bunch of other silly park pictures) here.

Remember, remember the 5th of November
Gunpowder Treason and plot.
I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot...

All We Want For Christmas:

World Peace and Puppies!

Several people have asked us for a comprehensive Christmas list. Here it is:

You can find my wish list here.

You can find Jonathan's wish list here.

If you're looking to buy something for the two of us as a couple, here are some things we like to do together:

1. We like to go to the movies.

2. We like to eat at restaurants like California Pizza Kitchen, the Old Spaghetti Factory, the Olive Garden, Mimi's Cafe, Black Angus, Claim Jumper... you get the picture.

3. We could use some stemware.

4. We like taking trips to Hawaii. We've actually never done that before, but we would like it.

Merry Christmas!

Directions:

Please look at the pictures starting at the bottom, and ending with the egg-hatching business.

We both did.

And we hatched out of eggs.

And sun bitterns...

And scarlet ibises, and white faced whistling ducks....

We saw spider monkeys...

On Holloween, Jonathan and I spent the day at the Santa Ana Zoo.

Saintly Intercession

Two posts in one lunch period? Not possible!

I want to put down in writing some of my musings on the difficult subject of whether or not it is admissable, beneficial or appropriate to ask for intercession from those who have already departed. It is an issue upon which I have, I believe, a fairly open mind. It is also an issue against which I have deeply ingrained habitual opposition.

I've already overcome much of my personal anti-Catholic instincts, however. I feel no qualms regarding veneration in general. I can genuflect in good conscience, I affirm the Real Presence of Christ in the eucharist, I can venerate the Eucharist and the Crucifix without fear of idolatry.

However... prayer to saints remains a sticking point. Here are some of the issues I feel that I'm facing:

1) Is it possible for saints to hear you?

There's obviously no clear Biblical word on the abilities of the departed to relate to those left behind. There are some principles in scripture that affirm a unity of the Church that goes past the grave (Hebrews 11, for example: a cloud of witnesses), but that doesn't entail hearing, does it? The case doesn't seem very firm.

On the pro side, Dante argues in the Commedia that the saints can hear the prayers of those on earth because, in partaking of the beautific vision, they are privy to the thoughts of God. God can see earth, and they can now see earth through Him. This is a breathtakingly beautiful image, and in some sense I am sure it's true, but an image alone may not be a sufficeint argument (though, then again, it may be!).

2) What would I benefit if a saint could hear me?

Would another Christian (whom I know by reputation and tradition to have progressed more fully into Christ than I myself) be able to help me in some way that God could not? As a Christian, I am admitted through the torn veil of the temple and into the very holy of holies itself. Though my union with God is incomplete because of my fleshly impurities, God can still hear every prayer I offer, and will work in my life for good. This question seems the most powerful to me. At worst, the practice might sell God short on his omniopotence, and at best just seems unnecessary.

The best argument against this seems to be the experiences of those who have requested intercession, and had their prayers answered. It's not totally strange to talk to another Christian and ask his help in something. They can even work miracles through the Holy Spirit. The one prayer I've ever offered to a saint was answered, but I also offered it directly to God.

3) Deutoronomy 18: 10 - 11

I've heard this passage urged as condemnatory of prayers to the dead in general. Here's the passage:

"There shall not be found among you anyone who makes his son or his daughter pass through the fire, one who uses divination, one who practices witchcraft, or one who interprets omens, or a sorcerer, or one who casts a spell, or a medium, or a spiritist, or one who calls up the dead."

This would hinge on what "calls up the dead" means. If it means any contact with dead people, then obviously we'd best avoid it. A point urged against that interpretation is that, in the transfiguration, there was a moment of contact between the living and the dead. Perhaps it means only necromancy, or calling the dead back from beyond the grave. Praying to saints obviously doesn't involve this, though.

This objection is obviously the most potentially damaging, but it doesn't seem effective here.

Ok, so there are my thoughts for now. Chime in if you wish.

Father David Joins Blogroll

I don't know if you noticed, but I added Father David to the sidebar a couple of weeks ago. He's only recently began blogging, but his posts are already among the best reading you can find on the internet. He's a godly, humble gentlemen, and a great example of Christ-likeness to our parish. This blog offers insights into the life of someone progressing along the path of sanctification, as well as into the nature of that path - human life.

Every post is worth reading - really, truly - but these are some of my favorites (after all, even U2 put out a greatest hit compilation):

A Little Big of Green - Great Romantic-type experience in the city.
Lord, Let Me Know My End - Involves spontaneous combustion.
Cannibalism - One sin he hasn't heard confessed.
Jawbone of an Ass - A ringing challenge to faithfulness and determination against apostasy. (Best of the best!)
Ave Maria, Gratia Plena - Mediation and apology for the Holy Virgin: worth reading even if you have trouble with the idea because of its style; it could pass for St. Augustine (I literally did a double take at one point) if not for his references to current events.

Where to Go?

Most orthodox Anglicans that live in the United States are alarmed at the spiritual state of their church (The Episcopal Church). We are worried about what is happening, and we want it to turn around in the right direction. Because of the continued obstinate adherence to heterodoxy on the part of our leaders, however, many feel that they themselves ought to leave. There are people in our parish who are considering this.

I am sympathetic to their concerns. It hurts to be involved with a body of unfaithful Christians. It rends our soul and destroys our witness to the world.

However, schism is dangerous. It is like a rock that you roll down a cliff - bouncing ever higher, fragmenting into smaller and smaller pieces until only dust remains.

Exhibit A: Those who have already attempted to solve the problem with the Episcopal Church by leaving. Whatever happened to them? A Touchstone editor, Dr. William Tighe, lets us know in this elucidatory post: Anglican Taxonomy.

Such evidence confirms me in my resolution to be schismed from, rather than to schism - let the Anglican church provide us with a new, orthodox arm for North America, and I'll be happy to join it. Until then, I don't see how it's better to be in one of these unfaithful bodies (unfaithful in their persistance in disunity).

The finished product...ta da!

I mean...LOOK at it.

Look at that knife!

That's not to say he didn't enjoy it!

Jonathan did a lot of the carving.

I took my turn at scooping out the goo!

Pumpkin fun with the Rowleys

AFTER!

Before....

Ha ha!

You may not have noticed that I posted a post about Harry Potter. I did, but it's before the Salamander post. How? I posted the salamander post first, but I wrote the Harry Potter post before it, and saved the draft. I only posted it a couple days ago.

I wish that Blogger actually would have posted it after it, but there you go. As things stand, I can totally screw with chronology on my blog. That's real power.

Real power to screw things up!

Giant Whats?

Did you know that there are giant salamanders in the world?

Now, when I think of a salamander, I think of a very small amphibian (rumored to dwell in fire). I do not think of a behemoth lizard-like slimy pebbly gargantua lying quietly in wait for its prey in a rushing Japanese stream. But this is factually the actual situation in several Japanese streams at this very moment!

That's because the largest salamander in the world - the Japanese Giant Salamander - exists. Though this may seem a cause of concern to mothers around the world, I think most are ignorant of this grave threat to their children!

Giant Salamanders are up to 6 feet long, and can weigh more than 55 pounds. That's some frog (salamander)! That's like a dog - only without hair, warm blood, or lungs. There is another species (smaller) in China, and a similar species (smaller still) in the Eastern U.S. called - get this - a hellbender. I think I know my eldest's son's name!

Anyway, any California mothers reading this blog may be heaving sighs of relief - it seems California hasn't got its share of these monsters. Breathe no more, O concerned parents of California, there are accounts of an even larger monster of the deep in Northern California! The Trinity Alps Giant Salamander is reportedly up to 9 feet long.

*shiver*

Parry Hotter

Libby just finished her first read-through of the Potter series on Sunday. I just finished my second read-through on Tuesday.

That means its time to post my thoughts on the series (as it exists thus far). And that's going to include spoilers - so don't read this post past this paragraph if you don't want all the surprises ruined.

I should start off by saying I find the books very enjoyable to read. They're quick, light, and fun. I think they exhibit a competent control of the English language, plot design, and character development. Character development is probably Rowling's highest skill. She's made millions of people care deeply about Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Lupin, Dumbledore, Sirius, etc. In reading her site and an interview with her, I've found that she's backstories for even the most minor characters in her universe. This shows - and its a proper emphasis. Most of the interesting things in this world are a result of people and their interactions with each other.

Thematically, it's pretty obvious her twin obsessions are death and love. The book is about an orphan who survived an attack by the most evil wizard alive (the only one to ever survive his killing spell) because of his mother's love-driven self-sacrifice. Throughout the book, I think that she exhibits she believes Christ's words to be true: the greatest love is to die for your friends.

Slowly, Harry's life is altered by death and love. He discovers in the third book that he does have family: a godfather. But, his godfather is cruelly taken from him. Then his mentor, Dumbledore, is taken from him. He's left more and more alone in the world.

Thematically, I think this can have two implications, depending on how the book turns out. One, because death isn't the worst evil in the world, Harry's life wasn't so bad. He continues on fairly happily because he's accomplished what he came to do. However, I think it more likely that a second implication of the theme will be applied: I think Harry will die in the seventh book. What better way to teach appropriate beliefs about death than to kill your main character? (Hint: it's to bring him back to life - see the gospels).

Anyway, I think that the book will probably end with Harry and Voldemort both dead. I'm not sure, of course, I can see it going the other way. I'm probably about 51% sure of this opinion.

What're other people's opinions of the big questions after book six?

1) Is Snape evil?

This read-through made it really seem like he was. To use the killing curse you've got to be full of hate for the person you use it on - and the book says Snape's face shows this emotion at the critical moment. I'm not sure you can occlumens your way out of a spell, can you?

Of course, I can see the point of view that Dumbledore might have told Snape to even go to the length of killing him to keep undercover, but I can't see why, really. The Order won't trust Snape now at all, and it will probably cost him his life unless he can somehow aid Harry in actually killing Voldemort. Can anyone see his character doing that?

2) Is Harry a horcrux?

There are a few reasons to think that he is. He exhibits Voldemort-like attributes throughout the books, and this would explain why. Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort only had made five when he went to kill Harry; Harry was to be the murder that was his sixth. Of course, Harry's mother's death could of screwed this plan up.

The reasons against it seem to be that Voldemort is set on killing Harry. That doesn't seem like a good idea if he's a horcrux. How can you make a horcrux on accident (as would seem to be the case here)? Also, if Voldemort can't even touch Harry after his mother's sacrifice, how can Voldemort's soul be contained in him?

A third option is that Harry was a horcrux but was already used by Voldemort when he returned to full power. Remember the "triumphant gleam" in Dumbledore's eye when he heard that Voldemort had used Harry's blood. That hasn't been accounted for. Of course, if that was the case, why didn't he tell Harry when he was teaching him about horcruxes?

I guess that's all I've got to say in this really really long post about the Harry Potter books. I'd apologize for the length - but hey - it's my (and Libby's) blog.

Till next time.

Sacred Science

Dr. Michael Shermer, publisher of Skeptic, doesn't understand Christianity or theology. He writes in an article at the Scientific American's website that conservative Christians should accept Darwinism because of how well it meshes with our beliefs - but how can he argue that if he doesn't first understand them?

He makes this appeal (through six arguments) without once commenting on the Bible. He mentions, at one point, in an off hand way and with a condescending tone "ancient texts" as being left behind by the abilities of science. Unfortunately, one cannot know God very clearly (certainly not at all to the degree Christianity claims) without divine special revelation - and he's thrown that out the window.

Let's look at his arguments:

"1. Evolution fits well with good theology."

First, he argues in this section that God's glory isn't contingent on the age of the world - creation is creation no matter when. I'll concede this point easily - it absolutely does not matter when God created the world in respect to God's glory. It doesn't follow, though, that evolution is true. Nor does it follow that the world is that old. The issue here is what the Creator communicated regarding the world's age in his ancient text. Personally, I agree that the world is probably very old.

Second, he argues that it doesn't matter how God created the world. Au contraire, it matters very much how God created the world. Theologians have wondered for millenia about the wonders of God's ex nihilo creation of the cosmos. It is a remarkable and powerful demonstration of his power and glory (a power that only he possesses). Theologians are bound to wonder because they're bound to glory in the smallest details of their ancient texts. In those texts they find the mysteries of all reality - not just the physical realm.

"2. Creationism is bad theology."

This argument all centers around the opinion that using the analogy "Watchmaker" is a bad analogy because the transcendentness of God shouldn't be limited to this extent. This surprises me as amazingly poor thinking. No Christians that use the analogy mean that God has, as Shermer states, "a garage tinkerer piecing together life out of available parts." A watchmaker is only a kind of artisan, but Christians believe in creation from nothing. They view the analogy as revealing an irreducible complexity to the natural world that physical causation can't explain. That's all. It doesn't extend further.

"3. Evolution explains original sin and the Christian model of human nature."

This is such a strange argument - it just hammers home that he doesn't understand our fixation with ancient texts. We already know how human nature came to be corrupted, we don't need a scientific explanation. To a conservative Christian, he's not arguing that we should just see how Christianity and Darwin are harmonious; he's trying to convert us.

"4. Evolution explains family values."

Christians have tried hard throughout history to understand ethics in relation to God's nature and plan. As Christians, we have to do that. It's all based on a myth that this author doesn't share - and I don't feel like my myth has room for his. Our stories just don't mesh. Check out this: "Subsequently, religions designed moral codes based on our evolved moral natures." Doesn't this presuppose that the designed moral codes are incorrect?

I'll skip 5 because it's just more of the same.

"
6. Evolution explains conservative free-market economics."

Who cares? This isn't what Christians are concerned about at all! Besides,isn't this Social Darwinism? Didn't that get tossed a hundred years ago?

What's going on?

I can't believe this article got put up on ALDaily.

Begger for the Bottle

I'm entertaining myself at lunch today by going through Nichomachean Ethics again (which happens to be in my cubicle) and I'm puzzled by one of his arguments. I'll put it here to see if anybody else can help sort it out.

Ok... so, this is not very far into the book. I've gotten stumped quickly. He's been enquiring into the nature of the good - which is that which we desire for its own sake, in this life, as opposed to something that we desire for the sake of something else. This is at 1.441 (1), and he's attempting to dismiss the idea that the good is an Idea or Form.

In 1.441 the title is Objections to the Form as a Universal (is this Aristotle's title?).

(1) There are no universals for ordered series.

Those who introduced this view did not mean to produce an Idea for any [series] in which they spoke of prior and posterior [members]; that was why they did not mean to establish an Idea [of number] for [the series of] numbres.

Now, I take this to be setting up his argument. Things that are series don't have Forms - it is a collection of forms, and is a composite. The reason that people would argue this (at this point in time) is that simplicity is an essential element of what makes a Form a Form.

Ok, so it looks like what he's going to argue is that there's a category of things that cannot include Forms, and that the good is part of this category, and is therefore a Form. Let's see where he goes from here:

But the good is spoken of both in the [category of] what-it-is [i.e. substance], and in [the categories of] quality and relative

Now, it seems to me that at this point I'm misunderstanding something. Probably, he is not seeing the problem in the terms that I was predicting. He seems to be seeing the problem in terms of substance and relation. But, what does he mean when he says that the good is both a substance and a relation?

It seems to me that when we speak of something as a what-it-is, we're referring it to as a subject. This sentence: "the good is the end of an activity" seems to refer to the good as a substance. But, sometimes, he points out that we use "good" as an adjective. This is a good pie - it's more excellent than other pies. This is a relation, because it's comparing two pies - good pies and bad pies.

Let's continue on and see if this analysis bears out:

and what is is in itself, i.e. substance, is by nature prior to what is relative, since a relative would seem to be an appendage and coincdient of being. And so there is no common Idea over these.

What exactly is happening here? Is the first half of this quote saying that the good, but virtue of being a quality and relative, is sometimes prior to something else? And that would make it a series, of which there is no Idea.

That would follow, but I'm not sure that the relation of substance and relative is the same kind of relation that obtains between numbers in a series. I guess the way to find out if this is true might be an analysis of what a series is, but lunch is only so long.

This has been a helpful blog post for me. If you've got any ideas that I'm missing, you can go ahead and leave them here.

ITLAPD

INTERNATIONAL TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY

September 19th only comes once every year.

Make yer best of it whilst ye can, savvy?

Arr!

Something Different

Cool Stuff

This link will take you to the art of a fellow named Peter Callesen. Neat stuff, mostly about childhood, so he uses forms that really resonate. I especially like the castles (floating and cardboard), and the paper cut work. Wow!

Hat tip to Eric.

Five Years

Remembering 9/11 is something like drinking concentrated sorrow. Although the memories flicker in my mind, their effect is felt in my stomach. Its my gut, not my brain, that hurts when I recall it.

I was in my first month of college. I was still getting to know people, and though surrounded by acquaintances, had no real friends. Perhaps that's why its not really surprising that the most vivid memories are of moments spent with other people, all of us struggling in the same way to understand the terrior wreaked upon our country. I spent the whole day in company of others. My suitemates had their TV on all day. I remember attending two classes. One was at 7:30 in the morning. As I walked into class, the second World Trade Center came crashing down above the heads of its occupants and those attempting to rescue the people crashed inside. I had no idea.

I remember first hearing about it in class in vague ways. People were upset, but I don't think anybody in my class really understood what was happening. Nobody knew the tower's had collapsed. I heard that the Pentagon had also been attacked. That felt like war, not blind empty terror, but like something out of a Tom Clancy novel.

On my way back from class and breakfast, I remember hugging someone from my floor who was on his way somewhere else. I remember running to my room to find my roommate still asleep. I remember sitting for hours on a couch in the room next to mine watching news broadcasts that had absolutely no information at all, just images. Again and again I watched the towers fall and airplanes fall into them. I saw the Pentagon burning, and I looked outside where there were no airplanes heading to Los Angeles anymore. I remember the eerie sky's quiet expanses being filled once more, in a few days with planes I just couln't trust anymore.

I remember being angry, but I wasn't as angry as I was sad. I'm still sadder than angry. Someone I was watching TV with said now he understood why you kill. He understood that part in Saving Private Ryan where the soldiers wanted to kill the German for working the machine gun that ended their medic's life. There was an awful lot of hate for the people that did it swirling around even our little Christian campus. Of course, I was in a guy's dorm. I think we all felt betrayed by our own helplessness to do anything.

I remember my friends signing up for the armed forces, and I remember the day the bombs started dropping on Afghanistan. I was on my way to church.

I wonder what I will remember in 10 years, about the 5 years yet to come.

Kyrie Eleison

We Like Books

This summer has provided ample evidence of our literary love. Libby and I have always read together, though not so much this summer as before. We've also been reading a lot indvidually. Some comments on our pleasures:

1. James Herriot

Libby read all of his books for the first time this summer, and found them very enjoyable. I am pleased, as they are some of my favorite light reading from my childhood. I can never read these books too many times, and I think Libby feels the same way. He has a way of finding the good and humorous in every situation.

2. Harry Potter

Libby began this series for the first time, and I've been doing my first re-read in her wake. I bought her all the first five books for her birthday, and I already had the sixth from last July. I'm really looking forward to her finishing that one, so we can talk about it. I'm not convinced their great literature, but they sure are fun. Great, interesting characters, good plots, and a strong moral system (sometimes interesting and challenging) make these books hard to put down. I am bursting for the seventh.

3. Jane Austen

I finished up her corpus this summer. My favorite is Pride and Prejudice, with Emma runner up. The rest are very, very good. Northanger Abbey provided unique Austen entertainment. Libby and I listened to that one on our way to and from the cabin in July. She also listened to Persuasion on her way to and from work, while I read it at home. Back to Northanger Abbey: funny! Great humor, but her characters were inconsistent. There is definite development in the later novels. Persuasion was similarly a bit set apart. First, it was shorter. Second, its plot arc was totally different - perhaps more mature, but I missed some of the vitality. Mansfield will probably be dull for all but those who love Austen.

Of course, much more can be said about each work. I will re-read them many, many times.

4. Cowboys

I read a bunch of Louis L'amour and a few Zane Grey (off the internet) books. They were fun, light, and quick. They're not really very good, though.

5. Hemmingway

Libby also listened to a Hemmingway novel on tape during her commutes. I don't recall the title. Farewell to Arms? I have never read it.

Currently:

Libby is working her way through the fourth Potter. She's got a lot on her plate for awhile, so that might be delayed. You know, she has a class to prepare for and run. I'm currently working through Moby Dick and Jane Eyre. Both are entertaining - I have my reservations about Jane Eyre, but it seems very good.

Perhaps more later if the muse strikes.

For God and Country

Here is a good article for reference on secular journalist's opinions regarding religion and politics in America:

Time's Article - God or Country?

I think most Evangelicals will be surprised to hear that people expect us to put our allegiance to our country before our allegiance to our God, and I am personally surprised that it is at all surprising. Isn't it common sense? And, really, what thinker who acknowledged the existence of God would disagree? I can think of none.

Further funnies: liberal Christians (coincidentally: most mainstream Protestants - almost all liberals - said America had a higher allegiance than God) are always at Evangelicals for their high esteem of country. The fact is, at a grassroots level, we are very patriotic, but appropriately so. Allegiance is given where it is due, and enthusiastically and fully.

So, David Van Biema, you have no reason to worry. There will never be an American theocracy. There will be Christian challenges based on revealed truth in response to American follies. And perhaps that worries you just as much.

Bede



Fore then neidfaerae
naenig uiuurthit
thonc suotturra
than him tharf sie
to ymb hycggannae
aer his hin iongae
huaet his gastae
godaes aeththa yflaes
aefter deothdaege
doemid uueorthae.

Homeless Pigeons

I was walking past La Mirada Park's destruction zone yesterday, and I noticed in the parking lot there were a pair of Band-tailed Pigeons atop a light pole. I've never seen that before.

Today as I passed the park, they were sitting on the traffic signals by the fire station. I've never seen that before, either.

What's the source of their relocation?

They're refugees. They're not alone, either. I saw dozens of bluebirds today, also. The trees they nested in are all gone, leaving a bare and scarred collection of hills. Rather, the trees are all there, they've just been moved into a big pile. I think I caught a hint of sulfur and rotting, too. Saruman?

No. Just the orcs in La Mirada's city council.

Why Getting Married Is Just Plain Better Than Shacking Up

Tomorrow some good friends, Jeffrey and Wendy, are getting married. Weddings have always made me happy, but I think I like them even more after getting married myself. I remember the weeks leading up to the big day. It's exciting; it's fun. Sometimes it's hard; it seems like it'll never actually happen. But it's romantic. You're waiting together. You're counting down the evenings until you can say goodnight without saying good-bye. And the feast is so much better because of the fast that's been leading up to it.

I just can't get excited about some weddings, though. I recently heard about a girl whom I haven't seen since high school. Apparently, she's been living with her boyfriend for a while and they just got engaged. I really can't get very excited about that, for a couple of reasons. First, there's the morality issue, but I want to put that aside. There's something else: it's just not as romantic. They're really missing out! Their engagement period will not--cannot--be the same exciting time of anticipation. Afterall, what exactly is going to change after the wedding? They've already been enjoying the benefits of marriage, without the committment.

But to Jeffrey and Wendy I say: way to go. You've waited a long time, and it's worth the wait. You make me smile. I hope your marriage is full of love and laughter. And I know God will bless you as you continue to seek Him.