Sunburned and Happy

Now playing: Jerry Goldsmith - The Fire Dragon
via FoxyTunes

Just got back from my week-long trip to Catalina Island with the fencers. I'll post a full travelogue later, but for now, here's my final article that I wrote for my Journalism class last year, which I hear has been accepted in Prized Writing. Go Me!

The Sword’s the Thing

Steel and Sweat

A glinting silver blade flashes towards me and I feel the familiar hot pain as its tip buries itself into my gut. “HALT!” cries a voice next to me, and the blade drops away, my very visible assailant (who is dressed all in white) stepping back a few steps. Though I can’t see his expression behind his mask, I can bet he’s got a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face. I rub the now tender spot on my belly, which is covered by three layers of protective clothing. The tough and heavy synthetic jacket and half-jacket underneath have done a good job in preventing too much damage from the blunt blade. But the bruise, now welling up, attests that I still had a meter length piece of steel thrust into me, no matter how safe the sword had been made. I am participating in a Fencing match, and I love every minute of it.

I am currently fencing a tournament at the Davis Fencing Academy, and my smug opponent is a young stripling of about 15. Although he has gotten an earlier start than I in his fencing education and has been under the tutelage of a very good coach, I should be, by all rights, wiping the floor with him. The name of the game is determined by whichever of the three weapons are used. Valid areas to score hits (or touches), protocol for what attacks have priority, and general mindset all vary between the Foil, the Épée and the Saber.

A Gentleman’s Game

The Foil is the most balanced of the three weapons, with valid target area restricted to both the chest and midsection, along with a governing system called “right-of-way.” This set of rules was created based on the idea that, if one was dueling with real swords (and with a weapon like a Foil you aim to kill), you’re still dead if you and your opponent stab each other simultaneously. Thus, right-of-way holds that, if you are being threatened or attacked against, you must defend yourself before you counter-attack.

Right of way is also preserved with the Saber. This time, though, target area is from the navel up, out to the wrists, and includes the head. As the modern sport Saber has descended from the cavalry saber, the target area was based on the idea that it was un-gentlemanly to harm your opponent’s horse, as you would both be mounted. While points are scored in Foil by stabbing your opponent with the tip of your weapon, in Saber you gain points by slashing with the edge. This usually makes the pace of the game much faster, and those who fence Saber are much more aggressive as a result.

Standing on the other end of the spectrum is the Épée. One could argue that it is the most realistic of the three weapons, in that the target area is the entire body and there is no right of way. As its ancestor was the dueling rapier, the idea of “first-blood” determining the winner is still preserved in modern Epée combat, as the sword-arm is the first thing an Epeeist aims for, being the easiest to reach while staying out of harms way.

Dancing with Fortune

Returning to the match at hand, we are fighting with this last type of blade, and though it may be the most slow and methodical in comparison to the other weapons, it still requires a good deal of speed. The thing with Fencing is that you always play to your strengths, always trying to make your opponent fence the way you want him to. As such, I’m a tad on the slow side, but I make up for it by having amazing reach. The little squirt standing across from me has me outclassed in the former, but he’s young and inexperienced, he doesn’t know how to use it. Though he’s now two points ahead of me in a five point bout, I can still pull this off.

I manage three points, or touches, in quick succession. He doesn’t know how I like to fence, and he’s charging in blindly. As he goes to beat my blade aside or bind it in his own, I circle my blade around his and hit his exposed arm, or I simply back away and extend out, my long arms easily outreaching his. Now it’s my 3 to his 2, could be anyone’s game.

The next touch goes slowly. Sometimes it’s only a matter of seconds before someone scores a point, sometimes it takes almost a minute. Time seems to stretch when you’re on a fencing strip, thirty seconds seems like an eternity when you’re testing your opponent’s defenses, feinting here and there, and looking for an opening. I get lucky and he runs on to my blade, forgetting my reach. 4-2.

But then I get too cocky. Fencing to five points doesn’t take very long. If you’re not paying attention, touches can accumulate fast. He draws me in to attack, then beats my blade aside and stabs my arm like lightening. 4-3.

I change it up and do a running attack, or fleche, but I start about a foot too far back. I might as well have started a mile away for how easily he sees me coming. Once more I feel his blade on my chest. 4-4.

This is it: Four-all, La Belle, the point where the theme from The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly starts playing. This next point determines the winner. I steel myself and breathe deeply, trying to keep a calm mind. The blade-work becomes fierce, the bell-guards of our weapons clang sonorously as we deflect each other’s attacks. I see and opening, circle my blade around, lunge…too slow. I feel the tip of his blade touch the underside of my extended sword arm. 5-4. Bout. His game.

Damn it.

My opponent looks surprised, but that’s a good thing. Most good touches come from reflexes and muscle memory, and chances are if you ask the swordsman how he pulled it off, he won’t have a clue. Luckily for me, this is only one bout in a set of five, I’ve still got chances to beat people. He can have his victory now, but I’ll see him again in the next set of matches.

His coach comes up to congratulate him and give him some tips. An action I accept begrudgingly, as he is essentially telling the kid how to beat me even more into the ground. But I have a great deal of respect for the older man, as he is one of the best fencers I know.

Coffee with the Master of Arms

This man is Simon Pitfield, Fencing Master, coach and owner of the Davis Fencing Academy. His figure is that of an Epeeist: a tall, lanky frame (about 6’5”) that may look slightly soft, but hides amazing speed and dexterity. The imposing height is offset by a pair of light blue eyes and a continuous smile, all made more approachable by his Australian accent. He can usually be seen wearing a black leather cuirass, or chest covering, which shows his status as the coach of the salle, or fencing hall.

I met Simon for an interview in the early morning on November 20th. Sitting down for coffee at Mishka’s, he had traded the look of steely fencing coach to that of a relaxed parent. Dressed causally in a T-shirt and warm up pants, he occasionally dandled his 5-month-old son on his knee as I asked about his life as a fencer.

Simon got his first taste of fencing in 1994 at a summer camp in England, which consisted of a single, 45 minute lesson. That was all it took. The next year, as an undergraduate at UC Davis, he actively sought out the fencing club and stuck with it for all four years before he earned his degree. During that time he also branched out into the Sacramento Fencing Club and also became a member of the USFA, or United States Fencing Association.

At that point the UCD Club was still small, only a few dozen members or so (compared to the 50 that currently compose it). The Collegiate Circuit, which is now comprised of tourneys at UC Santa Cruz, Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, UC Berkeley and UC Davis, only got started in the 1997-1998 school year. By then Simon had already participated in many USFA Tournaments and had a good deal of experience under his belt. The Collegiate tournaments, which are more geared to novice fencers, presented little challenge to one who had already earned a “C” rating in Foil. The USFA gives out rankings to those who place well in events that have their blessing, ranging from an “E” (“Yeah, you’re all right…”) to an “A” (“Damn, Jackson!”).

After helping found the Davis Fencing Academy in 1999, Simon began a years training to earn his Master of Arms degree, which as he explained meant that “If I went to France, I could run a school myself.” The program involved both his skill at fencing (he had to face an Olympic gold medal Foilist as one of his tests), and his skill at teaching others. He had to demonstrate several hours of coaching and in the end write a 30 page thesis, after which he was given the title of Maître d’Armes I. The next step above that is Maître d’Armes II, which means that said individual is of high enough caliber that he may coach Olympic level teams. For Simon, level one is all that’s needed, as he seems perfectly happy to run local fencing salles, though branching out and shaking hands with other clubs has also been a point of interest.

Training Sequences

But how does one go about teaching how to work with swords? According to Simon, it’s “not what you’re teaching but how you teach it.” As it’s a very individual sport, and can be pursued either for competition, pleasure or both, it all depends on what the student is looking for. It’s therefore a coach’s first priority to find this out, and vary the lessons depending upon age and the desires of the student.

As for what makes a good fencer, it’s “basically a bit of everything.” Speed, stamina and flexibility come foremost, but almost any type of athlete can become a good fencer, “if you work out the kinks.” Fencing also requires a good deal of mental preparation, the ability to think calmly and clearly when the chips are down, and the ability to reason well. It’s “very much like a chess match” in the kind of thinking that needs to happen in order to be successful.
Hand-eye coordination is also incredibly important, along with a well developed sense of distance. The first thing that one works on when being taught how to fence is the precise footwork, which is “key for safety.” Knowing where your body is, how long your reach is, and the same information concerning your opponent is critical so you don’t run them through or get run through in return. While the weapons aren’t designed to pierce, they can break and accidents do happen. But as these concepts are all fundamental, problems concerning them rarely pop up outside of the first set of lessons.

Next comes blade-work, and along with the basic offensive and defensive moves, Simon likes to teach his students simple sequences that show up often. Although his students often find these sequences useless against each other, as they are all taught by the same coach, they do find that the combinations work on fencers outside their own club. Once the basics of footwork and blade-work are in place, speed is then added over time, and from there it’s working on techniques that work for the individual fencer, as they will have their own strengths and weaknesses.

In the end, it’s important to have a good relationship with the fencer, such that “they trust you instantly.” This allows the coach to suggest and introduce new things without being second guessed, especially in the heat of a tournament. For me, who has had the luck to have a fantastic fencing coach, this concept seemed like a given. But having seen the hard-headed and recalcitrant fencers that are out there, I can see why this is important.

As a Fencer, it was good to hear about these things from Simon. It tells me what to expect when I go up against his students. While I respect and like the individuals that are under Simon’s aegis, a little bit of “Know thy enemy” is par for the course in friendly fencing.

Rematch

An old fencing buddy of mine has a great habit of making somewhat pedestrian truth very entertaining. He’d love to describe someone who fences Saber, as he was, as “A Pirate captain sweeping on to the deck of his ship, shouting ‘Avast, me hearties! All grapple lines across! Forward to Glory!’” Thus I took great pleasure in his description of how one who fences Epée was “A quiet submarine commander, silently moving into position, giving away nothing, and before you know it, ‘BOOM!’ you’re blown out of the water.”

It was with this in mind that I approached my second match with the stripling at the tournament, though this time it was Direct Elimination. These matches are higher stakes, the one who loses a “DE” is then out of the running. As such, they are to 15 points, which usually allows more time for the fencers to get used to each other’s styles, and thus the more adaptable fencer has a chance to shine.

The boy and I salute each other and begin. He initially has the quiet façade of a good fencer, letting nothing show, remaining unperturbed as my blade parries, circles, and feints. Simon has taught him well, so far. But I get a point, then another, then another. We quietly clash in the middle of the strip, the only sound the soft grind of our swords occasionally running against each other. He manages a few good touches, but I’m gaining a wide lead. That’s when it happens.

The Tide Turns

I score a fantastic touch, a clean, clear shot to the arm. My opponent’s frustration finally gets the better of him, and he stomps his foot and lets out a half whine-half growl, almost like he’s throwing a tantrum. It’s very theatrical. But right then, I know one thing for sure. This kid has no chance against me.

You know how in the movies, during the training sequences, when the young protagonist loses his fool head and is promptly rebuffed by the master? The line “never let your emotions get the better of you” is usually used. When you’re angry, you tend to lose focus, concentrating more on the fact that you are getting beaten rather than how you’re getting beaten. That’s when you do stupid things. Some fencers are able to work past that, but this kid isn’t one of them.

Now I know my advantage, and now the mental part of fencing takes prominence. Forget the fact that he’s faster than I; he’s too busy thinking about our wildly disparate score to use it. At the next “Ready, Fence!” from the judge, I bounce forward and hop back and forth in place, displaying one part of my arm, then another. It’s too much movement for him, he attacks simply. I move my arm out of the way and strike him. 12-6, my favor. He stomps and vocalizes again. This kid is losing it.

I still need to stay frosty, but I can have more fun. I inch close to him, waiting until the tip of my blade is past his guard. He’s not paying attention to distance, and though I’m slow on the takeoff, I spring forward and hit him before his blade has a chance to move mine out of the way. 13-6. Another tantrum, but by now it’s gotten old.

We move into distance of each other again. I retreat a step and leave my arm dangling at my side, openly defiant. At this point I could go for the double-touch, that is, let him hit me as I hit him. The fact that we’d both get points doesn’t mean much when I’m this far ahead. I want to keep it clean though, and keep it clean I do, retreating with my arm extended as he charges me. I nick him in the arm. 14-6.

Endgame

Now I’m not worried about losing. At one point away, I can be brash. My opponent, his mind temporarily cleared by the very fact that I’m about to win, has the same thought. He angles for my arm, and I parry wide, not thinking about what comes next. But he’s ahead of me, circling his blade under mine, and wonder of wonders, goes for my knee. I have just enough time to retreat a step and angle my blade toward him before he comes crashing into me.

I get him in the clavicle, which slightly arrests his motion. I’m sure to keep the weapon loose in my hand so I don’t drive it into his shoulder, my arm arcing upward with the force of his body. He does the same, but he’s misjudged his momentum. Instead of perforating my patella, the tip of the blade slides off and straight down my shin, pushing the sock down and very nearly taking off the top layer of skin. We end in a tangle of limbs and pain, my elation at having schooled the kid blunted by the fire on my leg.

But I’m still in good spirits as we salute each other and shake hands. After he cools down a bit, I go over and congratulate him on a match well fought. His face lights up with a smile and we chat amicably about fencing wounds being like badges of honor. At the end of it all, what makes Fencing like this great is how it draws people together, despite its bellicose nature. Swords and camaraderie, what more could one ask for?

Fin.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Whyyyyyyy

Currently in Earphones: "The Incredible Hulk" soundtrack by Craig Armstrong

So I took a trip to Berkeley on Friday and visited the usual haunts. Games of Berkeley was its usual greatness and I got myself a travel version of Peg Solitare. I'm really liking the the little wooden folding peg games they have, I've been satisfied by their Nine Men's Morris and am liking my current purchase. Also hung out at The Musical Offering, which seems to have been made with me in mind: a cafe and classical CD store. Not only that, but the bookstore next to it is freaking awesome, with a great selection of literature from antiquity. They even have a section of Loebs! Suffice to say I was in heaven.

The only snag was when I went to redeem my gift certificate to Cody's Books. Cody's used to be a large and successful bookseller, and had three locations in Berkeley. I remember the Telegraph Ave. store with most fondness, though it was right next to the also popular Moes. As of late, they haven't had much business, and had to close all but one of their stores. My aunt got me a $25 gift certificate the day before I graduated, and after the ceremony at dinner she jokingly said that she hoped Cody's didn't close for good before I got a chance to use it. Fast forward a week to the 20th, where I amble up to Cody's on Shattuck, see the lights on and the shelves fully stocked, and look forward to getting something good.

But what's this? The doors are locked! The only notice are two notes taped to the doors, each saying "CODY'S IS CLOSED, THANK YOU." How cryptic. I figure it's something strange about the day, and resolve to come back later. So the next day my pop asks if I want to go to a movie, and chance has it that the theater down the street from Cody's is playing The Fall, so I ask if we can't stop by Cody's on the way there. I go online to re-check the hours, and find this. Well...hell.

I sent an e-mail to the enquiries address detailing my situation and asking the usual "any chance at all?" but I haven't yet heard back. I got an auto-response saying that, as I can imagine, they've been getting lots of e-mail and the lady in charge will get to me when she's able. I don't know what's going to happen, but can only hope that I can get at least one more book out of Cody's before they go down for the count.

And now, off to Catalina Island, for a last whoop-de-do with my Davis buddies.

Enough, More Later.
- James

In-Between-itude

Now playing: KMFDM - Ultra
via FoxyTunes

So, I'm all officially graduated, though I'm a little annoyed that it's gonna take 4-6 months for my shiny new diploma to actually be made. I always wondered why my graduated friends seemed to wait for ages before they got theirs. It was always a "Oh, I happened to be in Davis, so I thought I'd pick up my diploma while I was here." Now I know.

The ceremony was long and full of speeches and flapdoodle. Our own Jeff Lee was valedictorian and gave a surprisingly good speech. As a friend of mine said "I think the whole 'My asian dad wanted me to be a doctor but I DIDN'T! SO THERE!' thing endeared him to a good number of the liberal arts majors" of which there were many. How like life, it felt like an eternity waiting for our major to be called up for handshakes, but once I got up there it was all over so fast. I barely had time to tell them how to pronounce my name, shake the hand of so-and-so the semi-hemi-demi vice-provost of the Arts, a quick "Thank you, Chancellor" and some happy hugs to Profs. Albu and Bulman. Then I was returning to my seat with a "UCD Alumni" pin and a pamphlet on "How to Keep in Touch," and another eternity as the other half of the College of L and S wound their way across the stage.

Being the staid fellow that I am, I found it funny that partway through the ceremony, my friend Andrea Jacquith leaned over and said with a chuckle, "James! Don't look so stoic!" I responded with good humor, but after the ceremony my friends and family were like "Wow! You looked so cool and dignified!" I suppose some merrymaking is expected, but I think I was pushed to my usual quietude by the strutting and posturing of a fair amount of the grads. To be sure, they (and I) had just devoted four years of our lives to higher learning, and damn if it didn't feel good to have something to show for it, but my natural aversion to making a show of things won out.

Because I'm such a nerd, I celebrated by buying a bunch of Loebs. For those of you that don't know, these are a collection of dual-language texts from antiquity that give you a side-by side comparison of the original Latin or Greek with an english translation, which is highly useful, even if the translations can sometimes be a little wonky. As you can see by browsing the cataloge, they have a WIDE range of texts to purchase. What interests me is the variations of authors: Sure, you might have heard of the famous Apollonius of Rhodes and his telling of Jason and the Argonauts, but have you heard of the Latin version by Valerius Flaccus? There's usually a reason one hasn't heard of these other tellings: they're usually of poorer quality or are simply re-treads of the original, but not without their own merits.

Even so, I was interested to see how Statius, a Latin poet of the Silver age (never at the head of classical curricula to my knowledge), fared in composing an epic poem recounting the struggle for Thebes by Oedipus' two children, Eteocles and Polynices. As to how good it is, opinion seems varied. Always a fan of more Latin, I snapped up the two volume Loeb edition of the Thebaid, along with a collection of Archaic Inscriptions and Xenophon's Anabasis. The last of these is the text that's used for Greek 100, had I stayed on at UCD and continued to take Greek.

I'm set to move out of Davis tomorrow, and I have the majority of my stuff already at home or near ready to haul out. Since Moose took over Sophia's room, I have the master bedroom all to myself, which I've been enjoying for the past few days. Luckily, there hasn't been a shortage of folk to hang out with: I went to a party with Toes last night and was happily surprised to see some fellow classics folk in attendance, with whom I riffed for a good while. I also finished up Rome, Season 1 with my good friend Cindy, and damn if that's not a great series. The finale was particularly gut-wrenching, and not just because Caesar goes down in a hail of knife-wounds. The rest would be telling, though, so go watch it yourself, you'll like it!

Anyway, I've blathered on long enough. Here, have some Mel Gibson in the final duel from Zeffirelli's Hamlet.



Enough, More Later.
- James

Please Standby

Now playing: Barry Dransfield - The Werewolf
via FoxyTunes


Yes, I'm still here. Still caught in the throws of Finals. I'll make a fuller post later, when it finally hits me that I'm DONE WITH ALL MY UNDERGRADUATE WORK, DEAR GOD WHAT NOW?!?

(Yes, I *do* have a plan, no it doesn't involve grad school right off the bat, first a year off)


Enough, more later.
- James

Crazy Ghost Huntin' Fools

Currently in Earphones: "Cleopatra" Soundtrack by Trevor Jones.

Now you all know that I'm a skeptic and follower of folk like James Randi and Robert Todd Carroll. So don't all collapse in disbelief when I say that I've recently gotten hooked on the show "Ghost Hunters."

I remember my fascination with "the paranormal" went all the way back to my young years, when I would check books out on cryptozoological creatures and scare myself silly. I also remember a brief interest in the schlock-tastic show "Sightings" hosted by Sci-Fi back in the day. It was strange, because I didn't particularly like that trapped animal fear that one could get so easily worked up to, hearing stories of things that skulked through the night. But I kept coming back, probably because of the strangeness of it all.

Indeed, I remember that it only took one similar "Ghost hunting"-type show (probably also on Sci-Fi) a number of years back to freak me out and swear off it for near good, and this was broadcast in the middle of a bright, sunny day.

So honestly I was as surprised as you are when a few days ago I started watching selected episodes of "Ghost Hunters" on YouTube, and found that I actually was enjoying it. Let me preface this by saying that what they do find is still questionable, but what really turned me on to it was...

A. 99% of what they find is "There's nothing here" and
B. Specific things usually are debunked fairly quickly.

Apart from their genuinely creepy Ireland episodes, these two aspects hold true for pretty much every season they've done so far. Even if they believe in the paranormal, I find the two founders of the show, Jason and Grant, the best men I could imagine doing this sort of thing. For one, they're both plumbers for a living, which goes far in helping debunk any weird noises and (I would imagine) gives them a very down-to-earth personalities. I really liked the Queen Mary episode, and I paraphrase...

(Jason and Grant are being shown the engine room)
Guide: "We know that NONE of these machines are functioning, and THAT one STILL makes noise. This PROVES that there's a ghost here who EVEN NOW is making his presence known!"
Grant: "Ma'm, do you even know what that machine is?"
Guide: "Well, no..."
Jason (to Grant): "Shenanigans!"

(Later, Jason and Grant are looking at it with a thermal camera)
Grant: "Yep, it's a hot water heater.......aaaand it's still functioning."
Jason: "Knew it."

And they do this nearly every episode, sometimes even getting debunked by their fellow investigators, who are pretty sharp themselves...

Steve: "Yeah, so that thing your thermo-cam saw on the staircase?"
Grant: "What the hell was that?"
Steve: "That would be the banister."
Grant:"Ah"
Jason: "What about that split second image of a guy, clear as day?"
Steve: "That would be you accidentally getting Grant when you swung your arm around...there ::indicated camera-man's separate footage::"
Jason: "Ah"

And if I have to pick one quote that I loved (in a similar vein as the above) from a scene of footage review....

Brian: "DEAR GOD, WHAT WAS THAT?!?"
Steve: "A bug."
Brian: "...Oh yeah!"

Once again, this is not to excuse the stuff that they find and take as "real" evidence, especially the EVP's they're so fond of using (I suspect pareidolia and some as-yet-unknown effect as the causes of these aberrations). But overall, I appreciate that time after time, they find nothing, and are perfectly fine with it.

I'll save my rant for later about how the amazingly annoying, unreliable, jumpy, and overall ratfink Brian Harnois is the worst thing about the show, as I have a Latin midterm staring me in the face.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Two-fer

Now playing: Shooglenifty - August
via FoxyTunes


Courtesy of the lady-friend's blog, an iTunes meme. Some facts about my library...

How many songs total: 4166
How many hours or days of music: 10.7 Days
Most recently played: (check out my Foxy Tunes tag at the beginning of the post)
Most played: "Main Title / Morgan's Ride" from Cutthroat Island by John Debney
Most recently added: Shooglenifty - August

Sort by song title:
First Song: A. A. Cameron's Strathspey / Mrs. Martha Knowles / The Pitnacree Ferryman / The New Shillin' -- Silly Wizard
Last Song: "7/29/04 The Day Of" from Oceans 12 by David Holmes

Sort by time:
Shortest Song: "The Shadow Knows...1994" - Alec Baldwin (:08)
Longest Song: "Alabama" from Crimson Tide by Hans Zimmer (23:50)

Sort by album:
First album: Abby Road --Immediate Music
Last album: 300 OST (ha!) - Tyler Bates

First song that comes up on Shuffle: "Cells (Instrumental)" - The Servant

Search the following and state how many songs come up:
Death: 26
Life: 23
Love: 68
Hate: 4
You: 74
Sex: 3 (The Rednex "Sex and Violins," and some suite to "The Secret Life of Elizabeth and Essex")


Also, I may make it a habit to post some poetry if I have nothing better to say. As such, here:

The Listeners
Walter De La Mare

"Is there anybody there?" asked the Traveller,
   Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
   Of the forest's ferny floor;
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
   Above the Traveller's head;
And he smote upon the door again a second time
   "Is there anybody there?" he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
   No head from the leaf fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
   Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
   That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
   To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
   That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in the air stirred and shaken
   By the lonely Traveller's call.

As he felt in his heart their strangeness,
   Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
   'Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote the door, even
   Louder, and lifted his head:
"Tell them I came, and no one answered
   That I kept my word," he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
   Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
   From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
   And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
   When the plunging hooves were gone.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Finally!

Currently in Earphones: "Tricks of the Trade" from Incognito, by John Ottman

You know, I keep telling folks, it's all a myth. Over and over again: "Doesn't it cause hallucinations?" No, no and NO.

Science to the rescue, once again!

Also, I find this a far better "What's your X Name?" doohickey than others, because you can CHOOSE THEM YOURSELF.

Mine? Rafael H. Orsini


Enough, More Later.
- James

Something a little different...

Now playing: Andy M. Stewart and Manus Lunny - Freedom Is Like Gold
via FoxyTunes


I was at the bookstore a few days ago and came across "Immortal Poems of the English Language." Intrigued, I picked up a copy and found many a good gem, though it seemed to be missing a few that I really enjoyed. In light of it only being 600 odd pages from about 150 authors, I can see why some of the more prolific poets aren't quoted in full. The "Anonymous" section has proved fertile ground for poems about love, and this one particularly caught my eye.

Love Not Me
Anonymous

Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face,
Nor for any outward part:
No, nor for a constant heart!
For these may fail or turn to ill:
   So thou and I shall sever.
Keep therefore a true woman's eye,
And love me still, but know not why!
So hast thou the same reason still
   To doat upon me ever.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Since School is fair to middlin'...

Now playing: Cris Velasco - Minotaur Boss Battle
via FoxyTunes

...I'll talk about leisure for a bit instead.

I finally finished the first God of War, and it really is quite a good game. I'd say it covers the "epic" base where Devil May Cry covers the "badass."

The three moments that I knew it was an awesome game are as follows...

- The beginning of the road to Athens, where you climb a large set of stairs to an overlook of an enormous plain where the host of Athens is gathered. And right there in the middle of the battlefield stands Ares, monstrously large, scooping up soldiers by the handful and crushing them. I knew I was in for a tough time when the camera crested the stairway and brought that sight into view.

- Near the end of the game I found myself (that is, the main character, Kratos) trapped by Ares in some trans-dimensional area with my resurrected wife and child, defending them from scores of doppelgangers. And the clincher was that the circle button, which had been used to deliver all sorts of pain to enemies and the occasional (off screen) sexual act (God of War definitely earned its "mature" rating) was now used to embrace his family, transferring some of his health to them in order to keep them from dying at the hands of the evil clones. After a full game of ripping, stabbing, dismembering, and otherwise annihilating scores of baddies, as well as many un-heroic acts on the part of Kratos, I found this tender mode of gameplay very touching, made especially so by the battle going on around his loved ones.

- Finally, the grand finale of the Challenge of Hades in Pandora's Temple: a giant, steampunk minotaur who can literally chew Kratos up and spit him out, all while the amazing soundtrack blasts hellishly in the background. Observe...



Enough, More Later.
- James

You know when it's a good time to blog...

Now playing: Rodrigo y Gabriela - Diablo Rojo
via FoxyTunes

...when you've got two finals back to back the next day, both in foreign languages. At least they're late in the day, so I can have the morning to study.

Good ol' Preston bounced me this link, and I found it wondrous fascinating...

http://www.thevalve.org/go/valve/article/the_prosody_of_itaking_the_hobbits_i/

If I may be so bold as to quote him (as he always does sum things up rather nicely), it's a "Perfect example of using something very accessible as a doorway into something that's not." Though the subject may be right up my alley, it certainly doesn't mean that it's everyone's.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Busy and Not Busy

Now playing: Solas - The Ploughman
via FoxyTunes

So what have I been up to? Uploading things like this...



and like this...



The whole collection can be found here. I'm quite proud of it, and still have more to add. And yes, I'm doing quite well in all my classes, thanks. :P

Enough, More Later.
- James

Catch Up

Currently in Earphones: "Partition" Soundtrack by Brian Tyler

So I had a wonderful time with the ladyfriend this past weekend, though I caught her cold. Though having pancakes for breakfast, lying in the grass in the Arboretum, and holding hands while drinking tea more than made up for it.

However, let it be said that I do like to get paid for work. Missing my normal hours on account of being told, in a good-natured fashion, to "Go away until you're not contagious," does make me worried. Especially since I had 7 perfectly good sick hours snatched away from me on account of the fact that they were earned in a different department. Robbery, I say.

Need to start work on my papers for Origins of Rhetoric and Medieval Latin. That AND the Berkeley Tournament this weekend AND me being sick may be a little much, but I'll be damned if I miss the third Collegiate tournament for the third time in a row.

And now, a wide change in topics due to my disease-addled brain: This looks really awesome and I want one. And it ages, like a fine wine. The light actually AGES. Flippin' sweet.

Also, my newest flash game fixation: Vector Tower Defense. I can't seem to get past level 40...on the easy maps. Anyone out there with some strategy?

Yeah, that's about it. More after the ensuing academic and athletic craziness.

Enough, More Later.
- James

For Those who would like a recap....

Now playing: E Nomine - Mitternacht
via FoxyTunes


Here's a fantastic video highlighting what's happened so far with the whole Anonymous vs. Scientology foofarow...

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x4cr9g_the-road-to-february-10-2008_politics

Enjoy!

Enough, More Later.
- James

Why I can't finish The Fountainhead

Currently in Earphones: "Walking with Dinosaurs Live" Soundtrack by James Brett

First a little section from a nicely translated version of the "Goliardic Confession" by the Archpoëta (if you're wondering about that spelling, see diaeresis, to which the umlaut is a young, upstart pretender)...

"There are poets, worthy men,
Shrink from public places,
And in lurking-hole or den
Hide their pallid faces;
There they study, sweat, and woo
Pallas and the Graces,
But bring nothing forth to view
Worth the girls' embraces.

Fasting, thirsting, toil the bards,
Swift years flying o'er them;
Shun the strife of open life,
Tumults of the forum;
They, to sing some deathless thing,
Lest the world ignore them,
Die the death, expend their breath,
Drowned in dull decorum. "

(Complete, yet oddly lengthly, translation here. Original Latin, strangely missing these verses, here)

Pertinent to the following? Perhaps.

So, it's been a good few months since I've put down The Fountainhead, mainly because I finally threw up my hands and read the plot synopsis on Wikipedia. I can't honestly say that it's a bad book: The story is intriguing and the characters original. I suppose one could say that my problem is with Rand's philosophy. Now I'm all for the celebration of the individual and all that jazz, but to me the protagonist, Roark, skirts too close a line to being altogether less-than-human.

What I find completely maddening is that the line is so widely blurred. One could argue that he functions as his character dictates and as Rand's philosophy dictates, which isn't hard to do considering how distastefully Rand paints all he stands against. I couldn't give you an example that couldn't be countered somewhere, but the closest I can come to is his brutal rape of Dominique. As her character twistedly compliments Roark's, proponents could argue that it was what she wanted and did her no harm. However, in the general sense, when was rape ever a good thing to begin with?

This may be a single point in a very large work, but for me it crests the wave of rationalizations and paves the way to firmly illustrating the bigger points of unease. Being true to yourself is a good maxim in general, but to pursue it past the point of social rationality to me denies an essential element of humanity. Sure, there are folk out there who function just dandy on no social interaction and a hermetical lifestyle. But they are a small slice of a very big, and very varied human pie.

I don't begrudge the people for whom Objectivism works and gives them happiness. But I DO begrudge the same system of philosophy which makes the greater majority of people alone and unhappy because it squelches social necessities under the guise of individualism. For those of you who skipped the Nathanial Branden article due to TL:DNR, here's an excerpt...

"...I re-read the opening chapter of The Fountainhead. It really is a great book. I noticed something in the first chapter I never noticed before. Consider these facts: The hero has just been expelled from school, he is the victim of injustice, he is misunderstood by virtually everyone, and he himself tends to find other people puzzling and incomprehensible. He is alone; he has no friends. There is no one with whom he can share his inner life or values. So far, with the possible exception of being expelled from school, this could be a fairly accurate description of the state of the overwhelming majority of adolescents. There is one big difference: Howard Roark gives no indication of being bothered by any of it. He is serenely happy within himself. For average teenagers, this condition is agony. They read The Fountainhead and see this condition, not as a problem to be solved, but as a condition they must learn to be happy about -- as Roark is. All done without drugs! What a wish-fulfillment that would be! What a dream come true! Don't bother learning to understand anyone. Don't bother working at making yourself better understood. Don't try to see whether you can close the gap of your alienation from others, at least from some others, just struggle for Roark's serenity -- which Rand never tells you how to achieve. This is an example of how The Fountainhead could be at once a source of great inspiration and a source of great guilt, for all those who do not know how to reach Roark's state."

Sic Dicta Est. And when it comes to The Fountainhead as a story, I found that it ended exactly as I thought it would. Sure, there were some character arcs I didn't expect, but I would have finished out the thousand-odd pages to nothing that a 5 minute perusal of a summary of Objectivism could tell me. The protagonist is finally recognized for the genius he is, despite the fact that he is stubborn, hermetical, and sociopathic. The antagonist fails miserably despite being competent, friendly, loving and flexible. Tell me this doesn't sound like some emo early-teen's wish-fulfillment fantasy. Rand's idea of a hero is too close to some dark alternate-universe version of a Mary Sue for me to take seriously.

I started reading The Fountainhead because I wanted to get a better idea of Rand's philosophy and because I wanted to read a good story. Little did I know that I already had a fair idea of Rand's philosophy, and found myself not caring about the story halfway through. My last rationalization for reading her work is that Atlas Shrugged is an "important" book to have read. This may fall through if it's anything like The Fountainhead, but I'm willing to give it a try in the name of literature, just don't expect to see my thoughts on it unless it turns my thinking around. Considering all I've just said, not bloody likely.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Go, Anon, Go!

Currently in Earphones: "Robin Hood" soundtrack by Andy Price

I'm out there in spirit, and am greatly looking forward to the news and videos that are sure to pop up on YouTube shortly.

Also, as a preview for a more lengthly post later ("Why I can't finish The Fountainhead"), a link to something I've probably already posted before. The Benefits and Hazards of the Philosophy of Ayn Rand

Also, Dicewars! Kinda like Risk on speed. See how addicted you become.

Thirdly, Captain Disillusion. Another one (stylishly, and for the YouTube Age) joins the ranks of Randi and Carroll.

And finally, some wag created a database a la Bash for.....Limericks? It's everything I'd hoped it would be.

Enough, More Later.
- James

A little more on the subject....

Now playing: Marco Beltrami - Ben Takes The Stage / Dan's Burden
via FoxyTunes


WONDERFUL. I love this person's thoughts. Along with Wise Beard Man, required viewing for any and all Anonymous.


Enough, More (on this subject) later.
- James

Because I think it would be worth mentioning...

Currently in Earphones: "Tomorrow Never Dies" Soundtrack by David Arnold

(Arrg, Blogger isn't letting me embed the image, click it to see the whole animation)

This should be interesting.

Enough, More (Thoughts on the subject) Later.
- James

...the Fuck?

Currently in Earphones: The whacked out techno of the first video...


Seriously, what the fuck?

(Also, Fuck Yeah!)


Edit: Yeah, the first video does make some good points, I still give a bit WTF to the Engrish, among other things.

Also, concerning the second video, I'm simply happy that folk are hopping mad and not gonna take it anymore, not specifically that I laud Anonymous up one side and down the other. Case in point, I very much like this Robert Todd Carroll-like fellow: Epic Win, but yoar doin it wrong

Enough, more later.
- James

Another part of my childhood mutates

Currently in Earphones: Two Journeys by Tim O'Brien


So I had heard rumblings that a number of dinos had been reclassified as, indeed, being feathered creatures. It didn't hit home until today, when I was perusing Wikipedia and found the pages on our favorite raptors all of a sudden had new pictures. It was jarring only in that I'd known these guys from my dinosaur books of old for so long as scaly, grim lizards.

The bird/dino connection has been around for a while, and makes perfect sense. Archaeopteryx has stood as a testament to that since when I was a wee one. Despite it's faulty portrayal of Velociraptors, Jurassic Park made sure to point out how similar the Dromaeosauridae are to birds. Now I'm not sure what new discovery prompted the feathered shift that seems to have just occurred, if the cultural image was considered too ingrained or the new one too jarring. Whatever the reason, I wonder how the Walking with Dinosaurs aggregate (touted as damn-well researched series, which I quite agree with) will cope, given that they've now started their Live tour around the US with decidedly old-school dinos.

I don't feel robbed or anything, just slightly off kilter. Eventually I'll get used to it, but it certainly feels quite the shift, even though this is information about a species long since extinct. That's cultural relevance for you, I guess.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Belated Happy New Year and all that Jazz....

Currently in Earphones: American and British Folk Songs sung by the Westminster Choir


So winter break is drawing to a close, and what a break it was! The events in no particular order...

- I started to gather supplies to create a few bookshelves for my room in the Bay, and I'm currently waiting for the weather to dry out before I actually put them together.

- My lovely girlfriend came up to visit and we spent a number of days sightseeing.

- Christmas saw a good amount of loot. Damn I got a lot of CD's!

- I went and saw Walking with Dinosaurs: The Live Experience. My inner six year old was rejuvenated.

- My last grandparent died and my dad flew across the country to be with my aunt. The small glimmer of fun was that I helped him pick out a traveling laptop. That's life for you, I guess.

- I got a lovely pile of new books to read for pleasure, and more are on the way. This will come in handy because...

- I learn that the power is out in Davis due to these crazy storms we've been having. I'm actually somewhat titillated at the thought of using candles, but I bet it'll get old quick. At least it'll only be for a few days.

- I have gotten crazy hooked on The Wire. BEST DAMN SHOW EVER.


Yeah, that about covers it. Back to Davis and dear Academia soon.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Busy busy busy

Currently in Earphones: "Way Down in the Hole" by Tom Waits


So, between making some shelves (from scratch!) for my ever increasing book collection, playing an interesting game of Lexicon, getting addicted to The Wire, Alison visiting in a few days, Dickens Fair, running hither and thither with the parents, and the general hyper attitude of the holidays, I'm not going to have much time to post. See you all in the new year and the new quarter, most likely.


Enough, More Later.
- James

You know what's awesome?...

Currently in Earphones: "Ultraman: Towards the Future Opening Theme" by Shinsuke Kazato


...when you revisit something neat from you're childhood and find that it's still just as kick-ass now as it was then, even if you can see its flaws.

Case in point: back when I was a young thing in the early nineties, a show called Ultraman: Towards the Future came out, and after a few episodes, I thought it was the bees knees. Giant Monsters, a hero who shot laser beams out of his hands, futuristic weaponry and vehicles, and a sweet soundtrack. It had it all, and I watched the 3 or so episodes I had the forethought to catch on tape over and over again.

I had an inkling that it originally was Nipponese in origin, but the fact that it was in English made it seem like the rest of the sci-fi shows at the time. The difference being that my 6-7 year old mind thought it was the most AWESOMEIST THING EVAR.

Spring forward to today, when for some reason the show popped into my head again. In my "Should be studying for finals, thus goofing off," mode of thinking, I log on to YouTube and find a plethora of clips from the TV show. Despite the special effects looking rather dated and the Kaiju nature of the show looking silly in places (which is kinda the point), I still loved every second that I found. Here is my reasoning.

1. The Kick-Ass Orchestral Score: I don't know how many hours I wasted looking for the soundtrack to Ultraman at my local record stores, but it was a lot. The main theme may borrow a bit from Williams and his contemporaries, but it's still a magnificent song in it's own right.

2. They shot the monster slug-fests with juuuuust the right amount of slow-mo: Though I know that the appeal of most Kaiju is the camp factor, the camera-work for U:TTF gave the men in the suits enough weight to lend more credence to the idea that they're 10 stories tall. But then again, how much realism can you really have in such a show?

3. The rest of the generally high (at the time) production values: Really, those are some nice looking 'splosions. And the dialogue may be hammy at times, but the actors look like they're having fun, which makes up for it.

Anywho, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I still enjoyed U:TTF, even after the space of 15 years.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Thoughts on The Golden Compass

Currently in Earphones: Bioshock Score by Garry Schyman


Edit: Thanks for the notes friends, but I *did* see the trailer. Yes, I know they shot the original ending of the book and have decided to put it at the beginning of Subtle Knife. I thought that by mentioning how the general public was placated by end of the movie demonstrated my knowledge of the fact that they cut it for that purpose. I don't live under a rock! I have internet! Plus, if you're a hardcore fan (to whom this would matter), I don't need to mention something ya'll already know on my blog. Sorry if the above sounds snarky, for the couple of good friends who made the point, but I was getting a little tired of having my fanboy knowledge second guessed.


- A Full Theater = Awesome.

- Over half the audience having read the book = Super Awesome.

- The fact that those who read the book also didn't know about the major change to the ending = not so awesome.



So, all in all, I applaud Chris Weitz' work on adapting Pullman's novel to the big screen. It hit all the right notes for me and I was happy with all the trimming that had to be done for the sake of pacing. Of course, I'd have wanted more of the parts of the book that I enjoyed, i.e. more Iorek and Ragnar Iofur Ragnar, more Lee Scoresby (and a sadly neglected Hester!), and more Asriel.

The upshot of having so many fans of the book at the theater was the enthusiasm. I love it when people get so into a movie that they cheer or vocalize. I may have been spoiled by watching the particularly gory Planet Terror right before, but I actually found the shocking end to the polar bear duel almost clinical. I was happy that the majority of the audience gave a collective "PHWOAH! Did I just SEE that?" when Iofur's Ragnar's jaw went flying past the camera, and I still think that Ian McShane's culminating "IS THAT....ALL?!?!" speech was the shit (matched only by Iorek's response).

Speaking of the panserbjørne, I love me my Ian McKellen. But I always felt that Iorek would have been more middle aged, and as full of gravitas as McKellen's voice is, it just sounded too old to me. I really would have liked to hear Nonso Anozie's work (and he was slated for a while, you can hear him for about two seconds on the "contract with a child" line in one of the teaser trailers).

Also, Derek Jacobi is awesome, even as a bad guy. And did Christopher Lee know he was only getting one line? Or have I become so used to him being a major player in any film I see that I find it hard to believe when he gets a cameo?

Bravo for the most part, Mr. Weitz. But boo on you for making all the wrong people (fans of the book) mock, deride, and outright laugh at the criminally hacked ending. Yes, the general public went out going "Well that was new and interesting;" I guess it was simply the luck of getting a large amount of people familiar with the book in the same screening as I.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Filmic Rant

Currently in Earphones: Beowulf soundtrack by Alan Silvestri


So, lots of academia on the plate and the siren song of the Blog calls once again. Next time I'll stuff cotton into my ears and have Moose tie me to a bedpost. You'll pardon me if I descend into a ZeroPunctuation-style rant, but I've had a healthy dose of Croshaw's wit and the snarky, venomous metaphors in me are aching to see the light of day.

I'd like to take a moment to voice my inherent dislike of any film by Wes Anderson. I'll begin with a caveat that I have never seen any of his films in full, but I have caught the last 15 minutes of The Royal Tenenbaums and even then I had no desire to know what happened for the first 90. Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate character driven work, but I'm always getting this odd vibe from Anderson's films. There's this glum apathy that seems to ooze from every poster, the characters lined up and staring straight ahead blankly, that begs for attention: "Look at me! I'm trying SO HARD to be a French-influenced tragicomedy!" Who knows, the films may indeed succeed in that aspect, but I'm not a snobby film student who gets a high from watching reel after reel of depressing conversations.

OK sure, most films of this genre tend to have some good moments of absurdist comedy thrown in to balance out the downers, but I really couldn't find any sort of release in the few trips to the Department of Strange Back-story that the director makes. Really Wes, while you don't need to have a stand up comic pop up out of nowhere to deliver a few jokes, please try have moments that will at least get a rise out of me. Maybe I'm just spoiled by the ultra-absurdist stylings of Beckett and Stoppard that are so off-the-wall that they become funny, or perhaps they simply have a better sense of humor than Anderson does. Call me strange but I'd be more inclined to see a film about the bleak way that the gears of life turn if a friend mentioned in the same breath that it was also somewhat humorous. Having never heard such a thing from the few friends of mine that enjoy these films, I'm more likely to shun these celluloid tales like a black turtlenecked, beret wearing art student sitting smugly in the back of a coffee shop.

Maybe I'm just a starry-eyed dreamer with his head in the clouds, but I was under the impression that we watched movies to be entertained, to be taken somewhere and shown something that normally doesn't happen. I'm not saying that every film needs to be some foolishly hopeful escapist fantasty, but I don't settle down in the theater to relive the experience of seeing promising people stuck in dead end jobs, chafing under a dysfunctional family, or dealing with the everyday gremlins of boredom and purposeless. Really, real life does that fine for me, I don't need to re-tread those paths by sitting in a dark room with a giant image in front of me for an extended period of time. If I do go see a tragic film, you can be damn sure there will be characters I can root for to whom bad shit will go down.

In sum, I think I might start going to see Wes Anderson films the minute the promotional materials stop looking like oddly placed police line-ups. However, since there seems to be little chance of that happening, I'll continue to see the unrealistic, rose-colored and implausable films that I wouldn't mind paying a wad of cash for.


Enough, More Later.
- James

The Deep Breath before the Plunge

Now playing: George Fenton - The Beach in Patagonia
via FoxyTunes


So what does one do when you're in the 9th week of classes, got papers and projects due soon, and have those few days when you don't really need to start anything, but really should? You Blog!

The Cal Poly Turkey Tourney was all right, fencing wise. I placed middlingly and hope to do better in the upcoming collegiate events. What made it really good was that my girlfriend came up from Santa Barbara to visit, and I spent a wonderful evening in downtown San Luis with her after the tournament.

Ironically, a few days later I returned to SLO to spend the Thanksgiving vacation with my family. I had hoped to piggyback a trip to visit my girlfriend in LA on the last few days, but transportation fell through. And speaking of transportation, I'm still grateful to Daniele giving me a ride there and back. Hopefully I didn't bore her too much with my overly-Tim-O'Brien-ed travel mixes, and hopefully I have found a new Cribbage buddy in her. I'm itching for a good go with the pegs, and perhaps I can get a game or two out of her once school calms down a bit.

The Davis Photo Rally is this Saturday! Toes and I are trying to get at least 3 teams going, though we're rocking the "resource less college student" card, as the scoring ceremony will be at our house, on my laptop. Please let me know if you are interested!

Crap, I just spent half an hour looking at fonts to spice up the Photo Rally packet. Time to get to some real schoolwork!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Observations

Now playing: Solas - Boy / Girl Tune
via FoxyTunes


- Next time we throw a party, we're having more food, or more control over the bar.

- I really want a USFA rating. Evidently I'm good enough, but it looks like I'm really gonna have to earn it through multiple tries at rated events. Look for me at DFA when open tournaments roll around, I should have a new body cord by then (for the record, it's really frightening when you're in your DE's and it looks like all your equipment is failing due to a single wire being out of place)

- I need to start my Latin paper and finish it in a week, and as usual, I'm being a lazy bastard. I'm getting on it as soon as I finish writing this post, damn it.

- I'm really warming up to Umberto Eco. I devoured The Name of the Rose and a collection of his short articles, and am now relishing (mostly) Baudolino. I should get back and finish Focault's Pendulum one of these days.

- Whenever I have a sip of green Chartreuse, I tend to wig out like Stansfield after a dose. It's that damn intense. I'm switching to the yellow because the taste is darn interesting, but I don't want to feel like I'm drinking straight Absinthe (which is roughly the same proof).


Enough, More Later.
- James

The Rally Cometh!

Currently in Earphones: "Wandering" by Tim O'Brien


It's official! Toes and I have gotten our acts together and the first Davis Photo Rally will commence on December 1st of this year. Here is the janky website I threw together solely to host the better constructed and thought out leaflets.

http://www.geocities.com/davisphotorally/

I've already created a Facebook group and sent out the invites, but if any of you all are interested, please don't hesitate to call me or Toes. Though it's gonna be somewhat close to finals for the Davis folk, I hope it'll allow sufficient time for studying. Besides, it's only the one day. I have hope that we can get at least 3 if not 4 teams going, which should be enough, but I hope to be pleasantly surprised by more. It's a whole month and then some away, so that should be enough time for all the maybes to figure things out.

In other news, things go well with Lovely Weird Girl. We talked for almost an hour on the phone tonight, and that makes me happy. I'm very much looking forward to seeing her at Cal Poly next month, and hope that we can visit each other at some point over Christmas break. At the moment, life is good :).


Enough, More Later.
- James

The Reckoning is at Hand

Currently in Earphones: Fiddler's Green by Tim O'Brien


I now have my new phone, and have buckled and used Facebook to get numbers back. Hopefully I can re-populate the list in a short time and have this whole mess behind me.

Things continue to go well with Lovely Weird Girl (a play on her name for me, as she has deigned to mention me in her own blog). Hopefully things will also go well when we meet in the near future. I'm confident about the whole thing: the attraction is definitely there, and while we both may be cautious, I think it'll be all right.

Back to fiddling with my new phone. Why do they always change the phone OS just as I get used to using the old one? Bahhh.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Time for a big ol' bowl of crow....

Currently in Earphones: Transformers score by Steve Jablonsky


I suppose a perk of Facebook is that you have the ability, should it befall you, to message everyone you know and ask for phone numbers should your own phone go down in flames. However, it has always seemed to me that everyone and their brother has created a group "Help, my phone just died!" or "I need everyone's number again, please" or "Oh n0ez!!1 Mai f0ne justz got br1kzed!!!1H@X!!!" and I can't help but shake my head and sigh whenever yet another one of those pops up on the news feed (which itself has latched on to me like some crustacean-like parasite, at first ugly and grim, but now which gives me magic update powers that I am loath to give up).

Needless to say, my own day of reckoning has just arrived, in that my trusty cell phone of two years has finally decided to start croaking on me. I had thought myself safe from having a dead phone, as the brick I had owned before my current one functioned right up to the day I replaced it. This leads me to two crotchety conclusions...

1. They really DON'T make things like they used to.
2. There most likely IS a big conspiracy out there to manufacture things that break on a schedule, thus forcing the consumer to buy even more souped up products that they, in all likelihood, don't need.

This point is driven home by the fact that I just took out my old phone, and it STILL works, even claiming to have a half-charge of battery left after slowly combining with the surface of my desk drawer for years.

In conclusion, I don't think my foolish pride will make me resort to Facebook to solve my ills, but to all few of you who read my blog, know that I may need your numbers again soon. Although I am getting sporadic interludes of work-itude from my dying phone, I have a sinking feeling that this is the end.

And watch me go back for a second helping of crow when I find out that the only real way to get most of my numbers back is to go on Facebook. Gah!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Back to the old rhythms once again

Currently in Earphones: Live Wizardry: The Best of Silly Wizard in Concert


So, class has started up again, and I hope that I haven't signed a death-wish by taking both Latin and Greek at the same time. I figure I only have one more year, and have been told numerous times that I should at least have a little Greek under my belt if I plan on continuing with the Classics into grad school. So, Greek 1 it is, and so far, quite fun! The alphabet is just alien enough to instill a sense of cool in learning it, but is also familiar enough not to be totally incompatible with English (though the lowercase Nu (v) and the uppercase Eta (H) still goof me every once and a while). I'm guessing that I'll be cursing it come the second or third quarter, when its many moods (i.e. indicative, subjunctive, optative) come into play.

Latin looks to be more of the same, though Sallust writes in a really short and halting style. This inconcinnitas is evidently what he was aiming for, though it's fun when you have to figure out what verb he hasn't included in the rambling sentence devoid of anything but nouns and adjectives. And by "fun" I mean "rather annoying, yet still strangely enjoyable."

Classics 10: Mythology looks to be a blast, and only two exams to be accountable for! No homework or papers or anything! And it's all about classical myth, what more could you want?

(un)Fortunately, UWP 104C: Journalism takes up the writing slack. The prof. is wonderfully down to earth and blunt, which is greatly refreshing after endless bland professors over the past few years. He's good natured about it too, so no-one gasped when a straggler showed up 10 minutes late and he wryly quipped "You're late, damnit!" The amount of writing doesn't look terribly much, but enough to drive off the snooty sorority chicks looking for an easy A.

I had a good scare when I found out that the last class that I need to take for my degree isn't offered this year. I had a day where the next two years were up in the air until I chatted with my adviser. Luckily, the Classics department is fairly lenient on the subject, and they'll allow a sensible substitution, of which the Rhetoric class or Greek Tragedy course was offered as an option. I think I'll take the former and be done with it, though I'll stay through spring in order to finish out lower division Greek and maybe take a few more music courses. Still, a mighty weight off my mind, that.

I also chatted with Michael Sands, head of the Baroque Ensemble, when between classes today. He mentioned that we might be doing Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, which would be wonderfully cool. I got a recording of it my freshman year and fell in love with it, so it would be neat if we got a chance to give it a whirl. The first meet is tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to that with excitement.

Fencing has recommenced, and with what a send off! We had at least 20 new newbs show up on the first practice, which is a record since all the way back when I first started with the club 3 years ago. All the officers and elder fencers were ecstatic to see so many fresh faces, I was absolutely extroverted with giddiness. And to boot, a bunch of the elder fencers fenced (and look to be fencing for much longer) Epee, so much that we had two strips going for a time. Toeswas being his usual self; in that he managed to miss my entire body and peg me in the off-hand that I was deliberately holding up and out of the way. On a closing note, it's only taken me 3 years to realize the perks of showing up late, past the unreasonably strenuous warm ups, such that I actually have the energy to fence when free fencing comes up. You'll be seeing me show up on the half-hour this year, folks, and make no mistake! Maybe this time I'll have the energy to learn some quickness and finally be somewhat decent on the strip.

That's about it for the time being, I'll fill in on the ladyfriend when more comes up: If I'm lucky, I'll get to see her at the Cal Poly Fencing Tournament. Until then, folks!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Lyrics again? Sheesh!

Currently in Earphones: "Corazon Espinado" by Santana


Don't know how often I'll find a song that takes me back to how I felt so long ago, but I can't seem to stop finding them...


Corazón Espinado

Esa mujer, is taking my soul
Left a thorn inside my heart
The more I try to forget her
The more I...I fall apart

Corazón abandonado!
Nobody here, just my shadow
She took my heart, my soul
She took it all
Now she's gone, she's gone and left me alone.

Chorus:
Ah, Ah, Ah, corazón espinado
Come back baby, I'm falling apart
Ah, Ah, Ah, She left a thorn in my heart

Ah this hurts, how hurts this corazón!
When you completely surround her,
I know it's always been said
Every rose has it's thorn
Ay ay ya! Can't take this pain anymore

Chorus

How it hurts me el olvido,
How it hurts el corazón,
How it hurts me estar vivo,
'Cuz I can't stand this pain anymore,

Corazón Espinado!


Thank goodness life moves on, and though we may never forget the past (and why would we throw out the bad with the good?), it's always good to know there are still others out there who like you.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Changes, mostly for the interesting

Currently in Earphones: Ilan Eskheri's score to Stardust, once again, and X-Ray Dog's Cerberus


So as the summer winds down, things start happening as people return from vacation, jobs hit the home stretch, and everything else that's been in a holding pattern starts to descend to the runway seemingly to keep the rest of the goings-on company.

Firstly, and most recently, Moose has returned to the house on Scripps Drive. I'm thankful for the company as the past few days have been rather forlorn, though with brief flashes of sunlight as people come and go. Phil has been doing his usual popping in and out existence, and I had the pleasure of Sophia's and Nichole's company for all of half an hour as they stopped by for a quick shower on their way to and from the Draft Horse get-together. It'll be nice to have a more permanent house-mate for the next few days, even if the difference in our sleep schedules causes me to growl occasionally.

Second, we're finally cleaning things up at the job for the last time, as we will wash our hands of keeping the dorms tidy once the freshman move in. There's something satisfying about cleaning, checking, re-checking and finally locking for good rooms that you've spent your entire summer cleaning over and over and over again. I've never quite felt more like my parents as when I would come in to clean with my co-workers and think (for the umpteenth time) "I just cleaned this! Honestly, some people...." Nor indeed have I ever felt so thankful to see rooms that tenants had left in a good state of repair after their departure. Yet another blue collar job experience under my belt, and hopefully more money in my pocket as I finish out by helping the little ones move in and perhaps getting tipped by a few grateful parents.

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly in my book, I have had the wondrous good fortune to meet a lovely lady who seems to like my company just as much as I like hers. As a visiting high school friend of one of my fencer friends, she showed up to a little soirée that Phil hosted at our place on Saturday night. I stayed with the revelers (a good bunch that night) for the obligatory gulp of alcohol and the real (!) Absinthe that Mr. Wild brought along, but I found myself most drawn to this new (and very tall) young lady and spent a good part of the evening with her. Let us say that I never felt quite as much of a serenader as I did then.

We both had the same love of antiquities, though she edged me out in the knowledge of history (and why not, as she has two academic years and a degree on me), while I fancied that I had a squidge more experience in the languages, though not by much. The next day a group of us went hiking in Muir Woods, and aside from having lots of fun traveling on trails and Indiana Jones-ing through the underbrush, I had an opportunity to display my clumsy gallantry as she accidentally twisted her ankle, and I gave her what moral and physical support I was able on the narrow trails of the canyon. Apparently my gallantry wasn't as clumsy as I thought, for we throughly enjoyed each other's company on the car trip back to Davis.

Though she goes to school in Santa Barbara, each of us has expressed a desire to see each other again, of which I am very happy about. Though the where-to's and the why-for's are still only a nebulous fancy, we are continuing to get to know each other better. I hope these first few steps are a sign of good things to come, for her company and conversation have become very dear to me over a very short period of time, and that has to count for something.

I apologize for the lack of details on the whole subject, but I found that she enjoys a good amount of privacy (seriously, try to find her on Facebook, I dare you), and don't want to blab any potentially traceable information on my blog, as the internet is a highly public place. Friends and family, you know to ask if you want clarification.

That's it for now, catch you on the flip side, when classes (finally!) begin to start up around the end of the month.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Much needed rest, and a Late Anecdote

Currently in Earphones: "Tomorrow Never Dies" video game soundtrack by Tommy Tallarico


So now I'm back in Davis after a wonderful, restful week at home. Not only did I manage to get on to a decent sleep schedule, but I got a handful of fantastic presents for my birthday on the 7th, many well wishes by Facebook and by phone, and a great day gallivanting about San Francisco with Toes, Moose, and Sascha.

For the record, I need to find out what the hours are at Boudin's Bakery on Market Street. I have been thwarted the past few times I've gone there looking for a yummy bread-bowl full of soup, and I can't seem to figure out their cryptic system of opening and closing. I can understand them not being open on Sundays, but when we arrived there at lunchtime on a Saturday, needless to say I was perplexed.

In the end, much fun was had by all, and I believe I speak for all who came that the playground at Yerba Buena Gardens is one of the best out there.

As to the other order of business, and as surely most of you know by now, I had a rather embarrassing goof at work a few weeks ago. It was 3 o'clock and we had all of 20 minutes left before we took off to our respective homes. Our supervisor asked us to go take out the trash in a couple of rooms that had been used by a Conference group who had just checked out, but the only snag was that there were two rooms (i.e., suites) that still had not been vacated yet.

Now, groups that use the dorms as Summer Conference housing need to check out by noon on their last day. That's policy. However, we try not to be hard-asses about it, because we know it can be difficult to get everything ready and out if there are other things planned. As such, if people still aren't out by 1 or 2, we don't raise a fuss. Apparently we don't raise a fuss if it's 3 either, but that's starting to push the limits of our kindness.

Needless to say, it was well after a full 3 hours of slop-over time that we came through these rooms, and even then, we were initially told to skip the two rooms that still appeared to be occupied. I went with a couple of my co-workers to collect the trash, and found a lady outside the rooms on a cell phone, who probably was with the group who had stayed and had almost all left. I kindly informed her that we were custodians and simply taking out the trash, and would it be all right if we simply popped in and popped out with it? She agreed that it wouldn't raise a fuss, and I made for the first suite, figuring that I'd ninja through and no-one would tell the difference anyway.

Bear in mind that we go through rooms with people's stuff in them for the "Deluxe" services (i.e., fresh linens every day) all the time, so we were accustomed to sweeping through and getting things changed without difficulty. Sure enough, the first suite had suitcases and the like sitting around, but everything looked like it was on it's way out. I collected the trash from each of the two bedrooms and made my exit, happy that I had taken the initiative.

I was given the master key to the building so we could get into the rooms we needed, but I found the front door of the second suite completely unlocked, which will become my Exhibit A in this soon-to-become sordid affair. After a small knock and querelous "Hello?" on my part and utter silence on the suite's part, I noticed how belongings and trash were scattered all over the rooms, like the occupants hadn't even considered moving out yet (Exhibit B). I made my way over to the first room and found it unused.

When dealing with rooms that could be potentially occupied, there are two ways to go about it. The first is to be obviously noisy, such that if there are any people in compromising situations they have time to give fair warning. The second is to be silent in all respects, such that if there are people who need quiet (that is, are sick or sleeping), you don't disturb them with your work. While we usually marry the two together, in that if we come across a locked door, we call out before opening it, but maintain silence otherwise, I tend to be more on the quiet side. That way I can ninja about and get things done without disturbing anyone, which is almost always the case.

It was in such a stealthy respect that I approached the second room. The suite is set up to have a single bathroom with toilet and shower, conjoined by two washrooms that have a sink and a mirror, each belonging to either bedroom. While you need to cross the miniscule hallway to get from the first bedroom to the first washroom, the second bedroom is conjoined with the second washroom, and is usually immediately off to the left or right as soon as you enter it. The door to the bedroom was wide open (Exhibit 3) as I stepped in and looked about, noticing the same lack of order and packing that had plagued the common room of the suite.

The trouble started when I took two steps into the room and turned to my right to take a look into the washroom. Much to my consternation, I found myself staring at the back of a naked woman, who (thankfully) was obscuring an equally naked man. Despite getting completely flustered, I managed to keep my mouth shut just long enough to turn on my heel, and as I tore ass out of the suite managed a "Oh God, I'm so sorry!" over my shoulder. I heard sounds of surprise as I dashed out, but was so full of fear that I took off out and around the building itself.

I sprinted my way back to the break room, which happened to be in the same building, and took a few moments to calm myself. "Alright," I said to myself, "Catch your breath. Just lay low here for a bit. They didn't see you, and chances are they're just as embarrassed as you are. This should blow over in a bit, so just relax." Just as I begin to calm down, my co-workers come in with perplexed looks on their faces:

"James?"
"Yeah?"
"There's an angry woman out here, and I think she wants to talk with you."
::Oh, FUCK::

At that point, I start to get the shakes, and stammer out that I'm in no shape to confront her, and that I need to speak with our supervisor and get the whole thing straightened out. Luckily for us, we are in really high standing with the higher-ups, and as such the boss came right over to the break room and asked me what happened. After relating the story as best I could, he went to go talk with her.

I was feeling pretty horrendous as I waited for him to return, fearing the worst for my job, even though such things have been known to happen. He eventually did, and while he did chide me for my mistake, he was sympathetic and comforting as well, seeing how shook up I was. "However," he said, "You might want to lay low for a bit, say, head over to the next building and fold some clean linens." From this, of course, I caught that this woman was still stalking around looking for my head on a platter, and I was able to at least crack a smile at the absurdity of it.

Later on, I learned from my co-workers that this woman evidently didn't even have the grace to be embarrassed, as she immediately threw on a t-shirt and went after me, going so far as to accost my poorly uninformed work mates as to my whereabouts, and hover around our break room as our supervisor explained the situation to everyone else. Although I felt justified only in hiding from the whole thing, my feelings on the matter quickly went from shame to light indignation as I tallied up the facts. Not only were they hours overdue from departure, but lack of any precautions on their part and the gnarly behavior on the woman's part (though I felt a little bit better about the man, who I heard later on at least was a little shamed at having been walked in on) decidedly outbalanced the indiscretion on my part.

So, in conclusion, I walked in on a naked couple and had quite the adventure for it. The ironic thing is, of course, that if I had just kept my fool head about me and backed away slowly, the two wouldn't have noticed me, given my predilection to stealthiness. As I said at the time, "It would have been freakin' hilarious, had it not been so utterly terrifying." With time and perspective on my side, now it is simply hilarious.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Defending a lonely outpost?!?

Currently in Earphones: Tannahill Weavers IV by the Tannahill Weavers

Firstly, I'd like to direct your attentions to Preston's blog, which he has just started posting on again after finally moving into DC to attend Law School...

http://ready-fire-aim.blogspot.com/

Though he may say that he has nothing interesting to relate, I beg to differ, as his two new posts are full of excellent prose, not to mention the stellar job he and his brother did on the Rambling Rovers blog, which is a gem of a travelogue.

In the vein of people heading back to school, I once again find myself the odd man out as the majority of my friends in the Bay and those not attending UC Davis start heading back to class. While it may be nice to have the whole extra month of September to decompress, it sure as heck gets annoying when you're the only one around to enjoy it.

I almost wish school would start up soon, as I would have a dearth of friends to hang out with, and no doubt better things to relate in this blog of mine aside from lonely whinging and empty posts.

Actually, I do have a good work anecdote, possible the most interesting my work has been so far. But seeing as I'm currently in the middle of my usual small pilgrimage to the Bay for family visiting and boredom quashing, I think I'll leave that to the next post when I'm more firmly settled back in Davis.

'till next time, then!


Enough, More Later.
- James

"...There would be neither land nor sea / But yon rede brae and thou"

Currently in Earphones: "Capernaum" by the Tannahill Weavers.


First of all, the lighter news, Yes. Yes "Tonight We Shall Work" is original, of which I am extremely happy to know that people are duly impressed by my doggerel verse.

Secondly, my usual saw....


I couldn't keep the softness from my voice as I bid her farewell for the first time in ages.

What am I do to?


Enough, More Later.
- James

Had Enough of Empty

Currently in Earphones: "Inside" by Event Horizon (Gotta dig that cello opening)


Enough of grief and sadness, it's time to move on. Time to let go and begin anew, step on to a new path, and stride forward. These old roads may have many a pleasant memory in them, but no more can be gained by treading them. While these new adventures could go good or bad, the new road shall give me renewed energy. And with that energy I can look forward instead of down, and perhaps smile again as the horizon of possibility comes back into view. Yes, it is time.


Enough, More Later.
- James