rob gonsalves

It would be criminal of me to not point friends to this wonderful artist’s site. I was browsing through my school’s graphic novels section and came across his book Imagine a Night, and I was so captivated by the art that I actually spent the better part of a class period reading it to my reading class.

news

i can't remember the last time i read good news.

Thomas Hardy... who?

i had a great bottle of beer tonight: Thomas Hardy Ale, a "rare, bottle conditioned ale" that has been sitting in the bottle for 25 years. i've never had a drink that was as old as me, nor as "mature." okay, the latter may not be quite accurate, but it couldn't be helped.

for those of you that have seen Sideways, drinking a drink as old as yourself (older, actually) is a unique experience that Virginia Madsen describes quite well and with great pathos. the beer itself is remarkable, though i've had beers that were 24 years younger and better (Goose Island's Bourbon County Stout is the first to mind), yet none had quite the same effect on me. first of all, i'd rarely paid $5 for a 10 oz. beer, so my mouth was respecting the dent that the beer put in my wallet. secondly, the "older than me" gave pause with each sip. lastly, the taste. i've never had such a creamy beer before. i had to let it sit for 48 hours to let the sediment settle before i poured it. when i finally did pour it, it came out in a gentle stream whose shape you could actually see. with most beer, the stream is a thin liquid that doesn't have a definite shape; it pulses and changes shapes, spilling into the glass more than flowing. the Hardy Ale was like pouring nectar into a glass; a beautiful stream of amber liquid poured slowly and deliberately from the bottle into the tipped glass. when i took the first sip, the beer didn't swill around in my mouth like water; it coated my palate like a fine wine does. it wasn't so thick that it was like drinking a latte. i can't describe it anymore than that. again, the taste was not one for which i would pay $5 again, but i am most glad that i have had it once.

wine and travels

“Wine is the music of journeys.” –The Journey of Ibn Fattouma

What a great sentiment: whimsical, nonsensical, yet totally appealing. In so many ways it is true. There was rarely a time this summer when I saw travelers who were not laughing and congregating around a bottle of wine or beer. For myself, I could go with a nice glass of Yellowtail Reserve Shiraz right now…

this is so pathetic...

i can't decide if this makes me cool, lame, or some other horrible word....

Modern, Cool Nerd

73 % Nerd, 52% Geek, 30% Dork




For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.

A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.

A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.


You scored better than half in Nerd and Geek, earning you the title of: Modern, Cool Nerd.

THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

Family reunions are...

Family reunions are odd events. The young and the old are joined by blood and legacy but are separated by generational differences that cannot be bridged by blood and legacy.

It’s still neat to see where you came from. I don’t deny the immense impact that my family’s “great spiritual legacy” (which was much touted) has had on me, though I’m certain that my rejection of the dogma behind the legacy was not the intended impact. Ah well…

Traveler's thoughts

I’m giving blogger’s Word addon a try, so please forgive any proper capitalization. Stupid auto-correct…

I’m reading Naguib Mahfouz’s The Journey of Ibn Fauttoma, a book whose title elicits no remark until one realizes that Fattouma is a woman’s name, leaving one to ponder the reasons for a journey made by “son of Fattouma.” Okay, maybe I’m the only one that wonders, but it is interesting to have a matrilineal name emerge from a decidedly patriarchal society.

Anyway, as I was beginning the book last night, I came across a passage that still has me reeling from its perceptive and marvelously lucid comment on the religious. The context: the protagonist’s widowed mother says, in response to the marriage proposal of a honorable sheikh,

     “Let it be as God wills.”
     I pondered about how we embellish our longings with luminous words of piety, and how we conceal our shyness with firebrands of divine inspiration.

Such a powerful observation that is so perspicuous is rare in modern literature, especially since it also skirts the chasm of cliché (alliterative cliché’s are the best thing since sliced bread!). I especially love the “embellish our longings with luminous words of piety” because it was something that I had been mulling over a lot this summer; there’s something about missionaries that bring out the cynic in me, and not completely because of any personal resentment. Yes, I’m definitely jaded, but I think I cast an equally cynical eye at other dogmatic endeavors. By the by, if any missionaries should read this, don’t think that I think any less of you as people; it’s just that our decisions about life are totally opposite!

Anyway, I’ve begun to believe that Xianity doesn’t give God enough credit. That may seem an ignorant statement (perhaps it is), but my belief comes from the misanthropy that is at the heart of Xianity. If man is created in the image of God, then I think man has much more creative power than many people realize. In fact (I hear thin ice creaking…), I’m quite partial to the notion of religion (spirituality, if you’re a Newsweek reader) as a human construct to give meaning. Of course this isn’t an original idea, and I don’t consider it to be an epiphany that I’ve had, but it has given me a much more tolerant attitude toward friends and family who have made decisions based on their faith. Anyway, I’m tired of typing because my thoughts are running faster than can my fingers. Perhaps I will continue some other time (though I still owe a lot of follow-ups from when we were in Bolivia—Urusla Le Guin, anyone?).

Cheers to all, and a happy day of Fry to all!

mis-

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowering years from the Sea returning?

The above poem is from Tolkien's Two Towers, and it is not a wholly original piece, though I love it no less for that fact. It's tightly (is that the opposite of "loosely?") based on an old Norse poem (if my memory serves me) which I've been trying to find in English. No luck. Also, Petey Jackson gives the truncated poem to Theoden instead of allowing Aragorn to translate it as occurs in the book. Not a big deal, and I actually think Bernard Hill delivered it with much more pathos than Viggo would have.

What a day today was. It was, as I told a colleague, a "poo day," and not the Winnie kind. Preparation truly is the cornerstone of successful teaching, and today was not one of my soundest pedagogical displays. To make up for it, I was given a gorgeous sunset. I share it with you.














Oh, and I share with you a picture of Maxx giving me the stink-eye for talking to him while he was trying to nap. Pissy li'l poodle...

summation

i have the feeling that this hobby may become less and less regular than it has been. it takes me time to sit and figure out if i have anything worth putting down in binary. i rarely do.

the first week of school is over and i live. it's definitely going to be a rough ride for a while, and i'm not going to be coy and say that i'm looking forward to the struggle. i was terrified before school begin, but everyone said that the first week would calm me down. it did not. all i have now is a more focused terror; before i was scared because i was going to be in charge, but i didn't really know what was going on, so my fear was a general, vague fear. now i know exactly what's going on, what i have to do, and i'm petrified.

had a great time with pals last night playing cheap poker, sipping and quipping and ending the night with an enormous fight. for some reason, i seem to become the target of christian rancor quite often... okay, i won't deny that christians bear the brunt of my dissatisfaction with religiosity, but it's somewhat disconcerting to be attacked by friends, especially when it gets personal. i don't think that last night ended horribly, but it definitely was a downer to what was otherwise a very pleasant evening. i think what i find odd about the whole experience is that i don't feel that i'm attacking my friends' faith when i complain about christianity because i don't consider them christians. they, however, are quick to ally themselves to the faithful whenever i bring up issues that i have. the irony is beyond me to be able to express. until i bring up religion (which i do my best not to), we're all friends and accomplices in decadence, but when a single word of criticism crosses my lips, their faith is aroused and i am the great pagan pariah. i don't understand it...

i've been browsing the web a lot, recently. i found a great addon for firefox called stumble. it's a great tool that has opened up the web to me as i never would have been able to on my own. i was wondering how all my friends could find this cool stuff without being zombies (though not all have avoided that), and this does it for me! brilliant! unfortunately i now have about 60 bookmarked pages that i will never visit again...

music: i've been wallowing in new music recently, euphorically delving into new genres, groups, styles, rhythms, moods. i will list a few that have stood out to me as being particularly interesting:

• remy zero (now defunct, but you can listen to some of their stuff or head to cinjun tate's site), especially their song "shattered" which appeared in Suicide Kings;
  
• Sigur Ros (utterly and bizarrely brilliant), "Untitled #4 from ()" [mp3 file];
  
• Damien Rice is growing on me (i actually saw him on Austin City Limits some time ago);
• Mercury Rev (i heard them on American Airlines from La Paz to Miami!), especially "My Love";
• Robert Plant and the Strange Sensation (i may have already mentioned this album) and the entirety of the Mighty Rearranger album, my favorite being "Dancing in Heaven";
• and i'm getting into The Smiths several years later than most people
  

before i forget, i must point anyone who has read this far toward the trailer of Everything is Illuminated, a Liev Schreiber film based on a book that some dear friends of mine have recommended to me but i have yet to read. the trailer looks fantastic! elijah wood is making some good movie choices.

i'm off to cook food to hold me over for the week. cheers.

day one

if i were to be sacked tomorrow, i could say that i've been a high school teacher. that's right; i've entered the fray, been nearly flayed alive, and i emerged triumphant. well, i've developed an odd rash, but i don't think it's related. i hope it's not...

actually, the day went quite well, an unexpected surprise. the highlight of the day was definitely when the other new teacher (with whom i share a room) told me after my first class that he'd been taking notes (they were almost my words verbatim) on what i was saying and doing.

i think i'm going to be okay.

for those of us too poor to buy books, Planet PDF has been kind enough to give us a chance at remaining literate. and i thank them for it, because i would never buy Ulysses otherwise.

funny

i was compelled to put this link on my blog (the website told me to, actually).

organizing chaos

i went into the classroom for a few minutes today to show mi and to see what my room mate might have done (it's weird to have a room mate again, though in a totally different sense of the word). it looked tonnes better than it had when we first walked into the room the week before, but we still have a long way to go before school starts. i also have a lot of planning to do, but that's not important now is it!

here's a pic of me leaning against the dancing pole that inhabits the middle of our room. it's a little awkward to have in a classroom and it annoys me, odd since i used to want a post like that (not a dancing pole) in my apartment. it lends a certain air to a room, a glance into the world that supports the walls and ceilings, a world we take for granted. anyhoo, here's part of my room. i'm also putting in a pic of the other half of the room, taken from beside the window. notice the elevator door that opens so unobtrusively into the room...

the word of the day is barrista. i had coffee with someone the other night, and he kept using the word while i scoured my mind for a translation. the closest i could come to meaning was barrister, but that made no sense when he talked about the "friendly barrista who recognized me the next time i came in and ordered a latte and smiled at me." or maybe it did... anyway, i just smiled and nodded and looked it up later. it's a server in a coffee bar. what?!? they're so elite that they have to have their own title?! that's why i grew to despise the effete type of people who go to coffeeshops, and though i know i'm making a general judgment, i stand by it. i actually wrote a story about it once, an extremely angry story that had a strong beginning and a weak transition and ending.

how do you post files on here, or can you?

inflation

this website helps put economic matters in perspective. "in my day, a pack of gum cost 5 cents..." perhaps geriatrics should consider the passage of economic time before becoming nostalgic about the good ol' days.

memorial for the dotcom rush

today marks the 10th anniversary of Netscape's stock hitting the market. five years later, the mad rush to riches that it spawned died a horrible death. rest in peace.

i went into my school today and began cleaning up the remains of what looked like at least 10 years of teachers who didn't care. i actually found portfolios from 1994, for you history buffs. the other teacher with whom i will share the room have a total of 0 years of experience between us, and we're being tossed "to the wolves" (as one trainer has said many times) with little instruction about the logistics of everyday teaching. at least we have 6 file cabinets to make sure we stay organized... oh, and we have an elevator that opens up into our room. and we have a little door that opens up into the roof/ceiling. creepy...

absolution

i heard a beautiful story of hope this morning on NPR, a rarity in a world that is so often red-washed in despair and pain. Luis Diaz, a Cuban immigrant who was convicted of numerous brutal crimes in which he denied any involvement, was exonerated and released after serving 26 years of his sentence. the interviewer accompanied Diaz and his son to a Denny's not long after his release (i missed the timestamp of the report) and recorded some audio and his own thoughts. Diaz was scared to ask if he could have a refill of coffee, unsure as to whethere or not it was permitted. the waitress recognized him from the newspaper/media and praised him. he responded in the little English he knows: "Thank you very much. God bless you." the simplicity of his response and the difficulty (an understatement) from which he emerged triumphant is unimaginable and incomprehensible to me.

i'm going to include a link to the Innocence Project as one of my permanent links because i believe firmly in their power to effect true change in the lives of the victims of a judicial system that is... i'm trying not to swear anymore in the blog, so i'll let you fill in the blanks.

i'm also including a link to the audio of the segment that i heard.



Vocabulary word of the day: absolution: The act of absolving or the state of being absolved ( To pronounce clear of guilt or blame)

"out of this world"

"Science Fiction at its Best: 16 to Read"

1. The Time Machine, HG Wells
2. The Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov
   
3. Childhood's End, Arthur C. Clarke
4. The Stars My Destination, Alfred Bester
5. Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert Heinlein
6. The Man in the High Castle, Phillip K. Dick
7. Dune, Frank Herbert
8. Dangerous Visions, Ed. Harlan Ellison
9. The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin
   
10. Dying Inside, Robert Silverberg
    
11. Helliconia Spring, Brian Aldiss
12. The Book of the New Sun, Gene Wolfe
13. Neuromancer, William Gibson
14. Hyperion, Dan Simmons
15. The Science Fiction Century, Ed. David Hartwell (1997)
16. The Year's Best Science Fiction, Ed. Gardner Dozois (2005)

this list appeared as an article in Attache, the magazine for US Airways. i couldn't believe that they actually published something like this, but i guess that science fiction really is beginning to be taken seriously. i was surprised at the near-absence of women (Le Guin must appear, of course), but i think it has always been a male-dominated genre (not because of superior writing, just because of... well, we all know why).

apocalypse

i came across a poem i read in an intro to literary study course (it was actually one of the worst English courses i've ever taken) that i thought was interesting. dh lawrence doesn't usually speak to me, but this particular piece speaks powerfully to my pride (and shame) in being human. it really began to reemerge this summer as i spent time with many religious types who seemed to be wallowing in humanity rather than embracing it and enjoying it. granted, i consider myself an utter misanthrope, but the idea that humanity is irredeemable without divine intervention is one that i'm not sure i subscribe to. anyway, the poem shall speak for itself.

"Apocalypse"

We cannot bear connection...
We must break away and be isolate.
We call that being free, being individual.
Beyond a certain point, which we have
reached, it is suicide... What man most
passionately wants is his living wholeness,
his living unison, not his own isolate
salvation of his "soul"...
I am part of the sun
as my eyes is part of me.
That I am part of the earth my feet know
perfectly, and my blood is part of the sea...
There is nothing of me that is alone and
absolute, except my mind, and we shall find
that the mind has no existence by itself,
it is only the glitter of the sun on
the surface of the waters. -- TS Eliot

this poem shares much with several poems by Robinson Jeffers, one of my favorite poets, especially in the suggestion of "divine nature." animism in Western civilization? how scandalous!

i wish i knew more html. for example, i really want to create a section on the side of the blog that would allow me to post a "vocab word of the day" that would be a link (but not in the links section). it's funny: i've been reading all of these "html for beginners" pages and they are NOT for beginners! so, i've downloaded a weblog client that hopefully won't fry my dear computer.


Vocabulary word of the day: "varias": a miscellany, especially of literary works

long day

had a really long day today. professional development is an incredibly boring attempt at education, and it should be outlawed in all forms boring.

okay, i'm just too tired to even think about writing much. so much for this being cathartic...

butterflies falling

Time magazine had an article recently that mentioned this website about anorexia. i'm not sure which is sadder: the existence of the website or the responses of those tools who found it.

yet another picture

i hadn't posted a bolivian picture for a little while and thought it high time that i do so (ok, i'm just testing the dsl).

this is a picture that miah took on a walk that she and her sister took in kewiña, a camp that her father runs. i think it's inimitably gorgeous.

dsl is my friend

what a joy, pleasure, and nearly orgasmic experience dsl is

I'm a manly man

Sorry to Shanghai your blog, but the comments section wouldn't let me put this in.


Ernest Hemingway penned your novel. Go you
studlyman, you.


Which Author's Fiction are You?
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I think it's mainly because I chose a drink with rum in it and I want to live in Key West.

Hey, give me a call when you get free time to watch that movie. I'm busy Wednesday night with a study/cram session for my 70% final, but Thursday night's cool, or maybe early Friday.

i'm a Southern man

it would seem that i am a simple man, sipping on bourbon as the wind blows the hot, southern wind across the porch.

Flannery O'Connor wrote your book. Not much escapes
your notice.


Which Author's Fiction are You?
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chaucer in the ghetto (in the ghetto...)

i was listening to NPR, recently, and i heard a special about a british man who is touring UK schools performing the Canterbury Tales as rap songs. as an intellectual and purist, i scoff, but as an educator i think it's brilliant! they were, of course, much cruder in their language than the original (there were several bleeps) but are succinct and easily understood by students with limited literary background. i'm actually considering buying them... oh, god, what's wrong with me!?!?

multicultural blogger

why is it that every other blog that i get when i hit "next blog" is in portuguese? is this the brazilian hobby?

china

i'm rather excited about China Mieville's latest work, Looking for Jake. i've only read Perdido Street Station, but the power of his writing is instantly obvious, and he is definitely, as the review says, an emerging force in science fiction writing.