Three months ago, I lauded over my new smartphone, which had quickly ingratiated itself in my life and became indispensable. 6 weeks ago, however, it started rebooting randomly. Two weeks ago, it started going into a reboot cycle, requiring me to actually remove the battery to resolve it. Yesterday it was completely useless the entire day, which made me finally have to face facts: My friend was sick, and needed more care than I could give it.
So this morning, with great hesitation and trepidation, I carefully wrapped it--twice--and handed it over to the UPS man, making him promise to take good care of it. Of course, I still have my crappy Nokia (pronounced 'knock-yuh' in the UK) work phone, plus a cheap phone I bought for visitors, so it's not like I'll be out of touch, or even off the Internet--but it's very hard to go back to 'basic' communciation. I want my calendar, to do lists, and notes. I want my tube map and live departures, my BBC news, my yelp. I want my soft keyboard that figures out what I'm trying to say, even when I type 'f;sdd'. I even want the chess program I haven't been able to master.
But most of all, I want to go back to complaining about what it couldn't do for me, like Skype over wi-fi, visual voicemail, or an up-to-date, off-line list of financial transactions both in the US and UK. Was that really too much to ask?
Godspeed, little android. Get better, and come back soon.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Waterloo to Bournemouth
The train slides out of the station, silent and imperceptible at first, then people are walking backwards, and finally you come out of the station into a light rain. Heading west from the city, there are few markers, just a sea of warehouses -- Nero's coffee roasting, Odd Bin wine merchants. Then the train turns a corner and Battersea lies, abandoned and magnificent. Stations seem densely spaced, but the express train doesn't stop. They probably don't want to go this direction, anyway.
The sounds of morning: folding newspapers, sipping coffee, the clack of rails. A young woman deftly applies makeup, a skill in the swaying carriage. The high speed trains are precision-engineered; you can hardly feel the movement; this is not high speed. We are perhaps doing 80mph, and the train is decidedly quaint, as the 'buffet' (an airline-style food dolly) trundles down the aisle. I instinctively ask for a tea.
Now we're in the New Forest, which is beautiful any time of year, but the grey sky and recent rain give it an otherworldy aspect. It also means my journeys will soon be over, as the other side of the forest is Bournemouth, an old town known for little more than being on the sea. There are other, more interesting stops on this route, such as Portsmouth that holds the Mary Rose. The train ends at Weymouth, on the Cornish coast, where the pirates came from.
But I have a meeting to get to, the real life interrupting the fantasy. The sad part is knowing I wouldn't have it any other way.
The Great Vowel Shift
OK, enough biblical references, back to English history...
It's hard to imagine a professor coining the term 'great vowel shift' because a) it sounds awful, and b) it doesn't give you any indication of what he's talking about.
English was originally a West Germanic language, brought to the islands by the Anglo-Saxons, where it was mixed with Norse (from the Vikings) and Celtic (from the Picts, as the Scots were then called) to become "Old English." Here is an example, from Beowulf:
Translation:
In 1066, William the Conqueror brought over French (from the Normans) and Latin (from the church) to create "Middle English." Here is an example, from the Cantebury Tales:
Translation:
Then, in the south of England between1450 and 1550, long vowels moved up and, even more confusing, became short.
There are many theories for the Great Vowel Shift, ranging from a rising middle class to the to the Black Death. Some say it was to sound more French; others say it was to distance themselves from the French (with whom they were at war for most of this period). Whatever the cause, the result was that "Long a" changed from "father" to "ape," "long e" from "shape" to "sheep," "long i" from "machine" to "ice," "long o" from "tool" to "goal," and "long u" from "rude" to "use."
To understand where they went, say "long e" (as in "beet"), then "long o" (as in "boat"), and feel your tongue move from front to back. The long vowels all moved up, like in a chain: /long a/-->/long e/-->/long i/--/aj/ (as in "eye") and /long o/ -->/long u/ -->/aw/ (as in "eight")
They also became short, so while in In Latin (and Middle English and most Romance languages), "long e" "they" is twice as long as "short e" "set," in Modern English "long e" "seat" is the same length as "short e" "set." So while all other languages different long and short vowels by length, we separate them by sound, which is stupid. And while other languages use dipthongs to represent different pronunciations, we use things like "silent e" to change a vowel from short ("rat") to long ("rate").
(By the way, Finnish doesn't have two vowel lengths, it has five: short and long stressed, short and long unstressed, and a short vowel immediately preceded by a stressed short vowel, called a "half vowel.")
Now that would have all been fine -- languages are constantly in flux -- except the printing press was introduced in England around 1470, and dictionaries did not appear until 1604. In between, spelling was phonetic -- you wrote it like you pronounced it -- which meant that written English captured every single one of these changes! Spellings that made sense according to Middle English pronunciation now look retarded in Modern English!
While we're on the subject, you may also be interested to know the last great change on the English language was intententionally inflicted by one man: Noah Webster. Starting with grammar school "spellers" in 1786, and continuing with his dictionary in 1806, he single-handedly established 'American English.'
It's hard to imagine a professor coining the term 'great vowel shift' because a) it sounds awful, and b) it doesn't give you any indication of what he's talking about.
English was originally a West Germanic language, brought to the islands by the Anglo-Saxons, where it was mixed with Norse (from the Vikings) and Celtic (from the Picts, as the Scots were then called) to become "Old English." Here is an example, from Beowulf:
Hwæt! We Gardena in geardagum,
þeodcyninga, þrym gefrunon,
hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scefing sceaþena þreatum,
þeodcyninga, þrym gefrunon,
hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scefing sceaþena þreatum,
Translation:
LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
In 1066, William the Conqueror brought over French (from the Normans) and Latin (from the church) to create "Middle English." Here is an example, from the Cantebury Tales:
Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Translation:
When in April the sweet showers fall
That pierce March's drought to the root and all
And bathed every vein in liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower;
That pierce March's drought to the root and all
And bathed every vein in liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower;
Then, in the south of England between1450 and 1550, long vowels moved up and, even more confusing, became short.
There are many theories for the Great Vowel Shift, ranging from a rising middle class to the to the Black Death. Some say it was to sound more French; others say it was to distance themselves from the French (with whom they were at war for most of this period). Whatever the cause, the result was that "Long a" changed from "father" to "ape," "long e" from "shape" to "sheep," "long i" from "machine" to "ice," "long o" from "tool" to "goal," and "long u" from "rude" to "use."
To understand where they went, say "long e" (as in "beet"), then "long o" (as in "boat"), and feel your tongue move from front to back. The long vowels all moved up, like in a chain: /long a/-->/long e/-->/long i/--/aj/ (as in "eye") and /long o/ -->/long u/ -->/aw/ (as in "eight")
They also became short, so while in In Latin (and Middle English and most Romance languages), "long e" "they" is twice as long as "short e" "set," in Modern English "long e" "seat" is the same length as "short e" "set." So while all other languages different long and short vowels by length, we separate them by sound, which is stupid. And while other languages use dipthongs to represent different pronunciations, we use things like "silent e" to change a vowel from short ("rat") to long ("rate").
(By the way, Finnish doesn't have two vowel lengths, it has five: short and long stressed, short and long unstressed, and a short vowel immediately preceded by a stressed short vowel, called a "half vowel.")
Now that would have all been fine -- languages are constantly in flux -- except the printing press was introduced in England around 1470, and dictionaries did not appear until 1604. In between, spelling was phonetic -- you wrote it like you pronounced it -- which meant that written English captured every single one of these changes! Spellings that made sense according to Middle English pronunciation now look retarded in Modern English!
While we're on the subject, you may also be interested to know the last great change on the English language was intententionally inflicted by one man: Noah Webster. Starting with grammar school "spellers" in 1786, and continuing with his dictionary in 1806, he single-handedly established 'American English.'
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Essenes
I mentioned the Essenes yesterday, who were very interesting, but you need a little more history: Around 1000 BCE, King David (of David and Goliath fame) reuinited Israel and Judea, then captured much of the surrounding area. Even better, his son, Solomon, was a benevolent leader, consolidating the new subjects and building the first Temple. It was the pinnacle of Israel self-rule, ending in 722 BCE with Assyria invading.
Shortly after that, the Book of Isaiah was written, a bit of propaganda that predicts doom for all the nations of the world that oppose God, and a prophesy that a descendant of King David -- the messiah -- will restore the nation of Israel and establish a kingdom of justice and righteousness. (Note that Isaiah doesn't specify the messiah will be divine, but that gets muddled later.)
In any case, except for the Maccabean Revolt, Israel was the subject of other empires for the next 8 centuries, during which the messianic prophesy grew, as well as much mysticism. The annual day of atonement became the day of judgment, sealing your fate for the next year, and when the messiah came your fate would be sealed forever. Also, it was believed that at this last day of judgment, the dead would rise again. It was an interesting story, but some people took it a bit literally.
When Rome conquered Jerusalem in 63 BCE, ending Israel's 80 years of independence, the Essenes responded by withdrawing from society entirely. They lived in communes, including Qumran by the Dead Sea, and dedicated themselves to poverty, celibacy, charity, and benevolence. They possessed no slaves, forbade the expression of anger, and only used weapons to protect themselves. They did not marry and lived a celibate life; money, property, food and clothing were all shared. They observed the Sabbath and spent much of their time studying the Torah.
Why? Because they believed they were the last generation of the last generations. They performed daily mikvahs (baptisms) to cleanse their sins, so they were always prepared for the final judgment. Not surprisingly, it did not come, and a people who practice strict celibacy don't last very long. After the destruction of the second temple in 70 CE, they aren't heard from again.
Until 1947, that is, when two Bedouins stumbled into a cave near the Dead Sea and discovered hundreds of scrolls...
Shortly after that, the Book of Isaiah was written, a bit of propaganda that predicts doom for all the nations of the world that oppose God, and a prophesy that a descendant of King David -- the messiah -- will restore the nation of Israel and establish a kingdom of justice and righteousness. (Note that Isaiah doesn't specify the messiah will be divine, but that gets muddled later.)
In any case, except for the Maccabean Revolt, Israel was the subject of other empires for the next 8 centuries, during which the messianic prophesy grew, as well as much mysticism. The annual day of atonement became the day of judgment, sealing your fate for the next year, and when the messiah came your fate would be sealed forever. Also, it was believed that at this last day of judgment, the dead would rise again. It was an interesting story, but some people took it a bit literally.
When Rome conquered Jerusalem in 63 BCE, ending Israel's 80 years of independence, the Essenes responded by withdrawing from society entirely. They lived in communes, including Qumran by the Dead Sea, and dedicated themselves to poverty, celibacy, charity, and benevolence. They possessed no slaves, forbade the expression of anger, and only used weapons to protect themselves. They did not marry and lived a celibate life; money, property, food and clothing were all shared. They observed the Sabbath and spent much of their time studying the Torah.
Why? Because they believed they were the last generation of the last generations. They performed daily mikvahs (baptisms) to cleanse their sins, so they were always prepared for the final judgment. Not surprisingly, it did not come, and a people who practice strict celibacy don't last very long. After the destruction of the second temple in 70 CE, they aren't heard from again.
Until 1947, that is, when two Bedouins stumbled into a cave near the Dead Sea and discovered hundreds of scrolls...
So...what happened?
The Pope's visit to the UK happened to coincide with Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement. While that was entirely coincidental, it did bring into sharp relief the differences between these two religions, especially considering one was ostensibly an outspring of the other. So what happened?
First, a pretty strong disclaimer: I'm not a scholar, I'm not an expert, I'm not even very religious. And most of my information comes from Wikipedia, because what better source for contentious, heretical, and blasphemous information than a publicaly editable database?
Throughout its early years, Israel was largely a subject of other empires: Babylonia, Persia, Macedonia (Greece), Seleucid, and Rome. During a brief period (the Maccabean Revolt, 164 BCE to 63 BCE), Israel became independent. Unfortunately, John Hyrcanus, third son of Simon Maccabaeus, took the throne after his father and two brothers were killed at a banquet under suspicious circumstances. He then went on a series of conquests, capturing Trans-Jordan, Samaria, Galilee, and Idumea, and forcing them to convert to Judaism. That was the first time anyone had been forced to convert to Judaism, and it had significant consquences.
Despite a rather unlikely story putting him in Bethlehem (and born of a virgin mother), Jesus was probably born in Galilee, one of the conquered territories. He was probably Jewish in name only. He had a wholly unremarkable childhood, then at 30 he went to the river Jordan where John the Baptist was performing mikvahs, a Jewish bathing ceremony, and he began 'ministering' himself. It's not entirely clear what he was ministering, but it didn't matter much -- a year later, he was arrested and crucified by the Romans.
He did establish Christianity as a separate Jewish sect, but it was one of many: Pharisees, Sadducees, Zealots, and Essenes. To convert to Christianity, gentiles first had to convert to Judaism -- i.e. become circumcised, keep kosher, observe the Sabbath, etc.
The sect would have likely died out, since it believed that Jesus was the messiah who would return to free Jerusalem from the Romans, and that was never going to happen. However, 14 years after the death of Christ, and for reasons unknown, Saul of Tarsus, a Pharisee who had never met Jesus, began trying to convert Jews to this new sect. Rejected, he then turned to gentiles (non-Jews) but claimed they did not have to convert to Judaism to accept Jesus. In 50 CE, Judaism and Christianity split entirely; the Mosaic law was rejected, and Paul created his new church, with Jesus as the spiritual messiah.
Why so many pagans chose to embrace Christianity, and how the Catholic church came to dominate Christianity, are stories for another day.
Interesting sidenote: After the Romans destroyed the second temple in 70 CE, and later expelled Jews from Jerusalem, Judaism changed -- the Sadducees, Zealots, and Essenes faded into history. Only the Pharisees survived the diaspora, adapting what is now known as 'Rabbinic Judaism.'
First, a pretty strong disclaimer: I'm not a scholar, I'm not an expert, I'm not even very religious. And most of my information comes from Wikipedia, because what better source for contentious, heretical, and blasphemous information than a publicaly editable database?
Throughout its early years, Israel was largely a subject of other empires: Babylonia, Persia, Macedonia (Greece), Seleucid, and Rome. During a brief period (the Maccabean Revolt, 164 BCE to 63 BCE), Israel became independent. Unfortunately, John Hyrcanus, third son of Simon Maccabaeus, took the throne after his father and two brothers were killed at a banquet under suspicious circumstances. He then went on a series of conquests, capturing Trans-Jordan, Samaria, Galilee, and Idumea, and forcing them to convert to Judaism. That was the first time anyone had been forced to convert to Judaism, and it had significant consquences.
Despite a rather unlikely story putting him in Bethlehem (and born of a virgin mother), Jesus was probably born in Galilee, one of the conquered territories. He was probably Jewish in name only. He had a wholly unremarkable childhood, then at 30 he went to the river Jordan where John the Baptist was performing mikvahs, a Jewish bathing ceremony, and he began 'ministering' himself. It's not entirely clear what he was ministering, but it didn't matter much -- a year later, he was arrested and crucified by the Romans.
He did establish Christianity as a separate Jewish sect, but it was one of many: Pharisees, Sadducees, Zealots, and Essenes. To convert to Christianity, gentiles first had to convert to Judaism -- i.e. become circumcised, keep kosher, observe the Sabbath, etc.
The sect would have likely died out, since it believed that Jesus was the messiah who would return to free Jerusalem from the Romans, and that was never going to happen. However, 14 years after the death of Christ, and for reasons unknown, Saul of Tarsus, a Pharisee who had never met Jesus, began trying to convert Jews to this new sect. Rejected, he then turned to gentiles (non-Jews) but claimed they did not have to convert to Judaism to accept Jesus. In 50 CE, Judaism and Christianity split entirely; the Mosaic law was rejected, and Paul created his new church, with Jesus as the spiritual messiah.
Why so many pagans chose to embrace Christianity, and how the Catholic church came to dominate Christianity, are stories for another day.
Interesting sidenote: After the Romans destroyed the second temple in 70 CE, and later expelled Jews from Jerusalem, Judaism changed -- the Sadducees, Zealots, and Essenes faded into history. Only the Pharisees survived the diaspora, adapting what is now known as 'Rabbinic Judaism.'
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Papal visit
Today, Pope Benedict the Umpteenth arrives in the UK on a state visit. The last time that happened was...never.
To be fair, Pope John Paul II visited in 1982 but it was a "pastoral" visit, meaning he did not meet any state officials. (He did meet the Queen because she is the head of the Church of England.) But in 2,000 years of history -- and with 5 million Catholics in the UK -- I am shocked there had never been a Papal visit prior to that.
28 years ago, Pope John Paul II hosted a 6-day visit, with nearly 2 million attending various events. The Church funded the entire cost, and most of the events were free. There were some minor protests, but in general the Pope was warmly welcomed by both Catholics and non-Catholics alike.
By contrast, today the Pope is visiting for four days, the UK Government is footing £10 million pounds for secural events, and the Church is selling tickets for £25 to religious events (plus the sale of official souvenirs). Security will be tight, and a group called "Protest the Pope" has united secular, gay, feminist and other activist groups in a coordinated campaign. Many celebrities are openly critical of the Pope's visit, including Stephen Fry, Terry Pratchett, Philip Pullman, and Ken Follett. The final ceremony was moved from a 200,000 person venue to a 60,000 person venue; even so, thousands of tickets are reportedly unsold.
The poll numbers paint a similar picture: 11% of the population oppose the visit, and 76% indicate they will not be following it. Even among Catholics, less than half "strongly support" the Pope's visit, which is not surprising given that British Roman Catholics are very bad Catholics:
So what was that miracle? Jack Sullivan, at the age of 60, had enrolled in a four-year ecumenical program in Boston, Massachusetts. During his second year, a vertebrae in his lower back had turned inwards and was squeezing his spinal cord, requiring surgery. The next day, lying in bed and flipping channels, he saw a program about Cardinal Newman which ended with an appeal for anyone who had received a "divine favour" after praying to Cardinal Newman to get in touch.
According to Mr. Sullivan, he prayed: "Please Cardinal Newman help me to walk so that I can return to classes and be ordained." The next day, he said, the pain had gone, allowing him to complete his third year of classes before it returned, on the final day of the academic year. Doctors say a laminectomy (the type of surgery Mr. Sullivan had) usually involves a two-day recovery period. A Vatican panel of medical experts, however, after eight years of investigation, declared Jack Sullivan's healing as miraculous.
But here is the odd thing: Under the Pope's own rules, beatification is done by the senior cardinal in the home country. (The Pope performs the canonization in Rome.) This is the first beatification the Pope has overseen in his 5 years in office. Even more interesting, Cardinal Newman was an Anglican priest who wrote several books denouncing the Roman Catholic church, then converted to Roman Catholicism and wrote two more books countering his earlier works. Newman closest relationships were with younger men, and he lived with Ambrose St John for 32 years, starting when Newman was 42 and St John was 28. Newman's diaries described their intense love for each other, and at Newman's direction they were even buried in the same grave. Newman also described slavery as "a condition of life ordained by God in the same sense that other conditions of life are."
Some conspiracy theorists note that the Pope personally beatifying someone who converted from the Anglican church might be conveying a message, especially after the recent ordination of women and openly gay men as bishops is threatening to tear the Anglican communion apart. In fact, last year the Pope issued an open invitation to Anglicans to convert. But then, this is the same pope who told Muslims that Muhammad spread a message of violence, and Africans that condoms hindered the fight against AIDS.
For me, though, the most interesting thing I've learned from the Pope's visit is that last year he personally rescinded the excommunication of British Bishop Richard Williamson, who is best known for his anti-semitism and denial of the Holocaust. (The Church has forbidden Williamson from speaking out publicly about historical or political matters.)
To be fair, Pope John Paul II visited in 1982 but it was a "pastoral" visit, meaning he did not meet any state officials. (He did meet the Queen because she is the head of the Church of England.) But in 2,000 years of history -- and with 5 million Catholics in the UK -- I am shocked there had never been a Papal visit prior to that.
28 years ago, Pope John Paul II hosted a 6-day visit, with nearly 2 million attending various events. The Church funded the entire cost, and most of the events were free. There were some minor protests, but in general the Pope was warmly welcomed by both Catholics and non-Catholics alike.
By contrast, today the Pope is visiting for four days, the UK Government is footing £10 million pounds for secural events, and the Church is selling tickets for £25 to religious events (plus the sale of official souvenirs). Security will be tight, and a group called "Protest the Pope" has united secular, gay, feminist and other activist groups in a coordinated campaign. Many celebrities are openly critical of the Pope's visit, including Stephen Fry, Terry Pratchett, Philip Pullman, and Ken Follett. The final ceremony was moved from a 200,000 person venue to a 60,000 person venue; even so, thousands of tickets are reportedly unsold.
The poll numbers paint a similar picture: 11% of the population oppose the visit, and 76% indicate they will not be following it. Even among Catholics, less than half "strongly support" the Pope's visit, which is not surprising given that British Roman Catholics are very bad Catholics:
- 65% believed Catholic priests should be allowed to marry.
- Two-thirds think women should have more authority and status within the Church.
- 71% said contraception should be used more often.
- 41% say gay relationships should be celebrated.
- 44% thought abortion should be permitted under certain circumstances, and 30% said it should always be allowed.
- 52% said the sex abuse scandal had shaken their faith in the Church's leadership. (I can't imagine what it would take to shake the faith of the other 48%...)
So what was that miracle? Jack Sullivan, at the age of 60, had enrolled in a four-year ecumenical program in Boston, Massachusetts. During his second year, a vertebrae in his lower back had turned inwards and was squeezing his spinal cord, requiring surgery. The next day, lying in bed and flipping channels, he saw a program about Cardinal Newman which ended with an appeal for anyone who had received a "divine favour" after praying to Cardinal Newman to get in touch.
According to Mr. Sullivan, he prayed: "Please Cardinal Newman help me to walk so that I can return to classes and be ordained." The next day, he said, the pain had gone, allowing him to complete his third year of classes before it returned, on the final day of the academic year. Doctors say a laminectomy (the type of surgery Mr. Sullivan had) usually involves a two-day recovery period. A Vatican panel of medical experts, however, after eight years of investigation, declared Jack Sullivan's healing as miraculous.
But here is the odd thing: Under the Pope's own rules, beatification is done by the senior cardinal in the home country. (The Pope performs the canonization in Rome.) This is the first beatification the Pope has overseen in his 5 years in office. Even more interesting, Cardinal Newman was an Anglican priest who wrote several books denouncing the Roman Catholic church, then converted to Roman Catholicism and wrote two more books countering his earlier works. Newman closest relationships were with younger men, and he lived with Ambrose St John for 32 years, starting when Newman was 42 and St John was 28. Newman's diaries described their intense love for each other, and at Newman's direction they were even buried in the same grave. Newman also described slavery as "a condition of life ordained by God in the same sense that other conditions of life are."
Some conspiracy theorists note that the Pope personally beatifying someone who converted from the Anglican church might be conveying a message, especially after the recent ordination of women and openly gay men as bishops is threatening to tear the Anglican communion apart. In fact, last year the Pope issued an open invitation to Anglicans to convert. But then, this is the same pope who told Muslims that Muhammad spread a message of violence, and Africans that condoms hindered the fight against AIDS.
For me, though, the most interesting thing I've learned from the Pope's visit is that last year he personally rescinded the excommunication of British Bishop Richard Williamson, who is best known for his anti-semitism and denial of the Holocaust. (The Church has forbidden Williamson from speaking out publicly about historical or political matters.)
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Autumn is in the air
I thought we'd squeeze in another sunny week before autumn set in, but it looks like I was wrong. I don't mind, though; I've had a fabulous summer, full of travel and learning and laughing. I changed jobs, I bought a convertible, we visited Madrid, Paris, Bournemouth, Bristol, Edinburgh, I've been to the States twice (or maybe more--I lose track). Jess and I finally moved our relationship forward, and she put the ball firmly back in my court. (That was a metaphor, not a double entendre.) We had two months of glorious sunshine, with the lowest rainfall in 94 years, and I had two friends visit me in London.
Sure, we've got a bastardized government that is threatening the worst budget cuts in history, and the unions have responded with threats of strikes not seen since 1926, which could make the 'winter of discontent' look like a blustery day. (My company also does significant business with the government, so cuts would hit it hard.) Jess and I have spent three months fruitlessly searching for a house. I haven't been able to spend near enough time with my family, nor visit my friends in LA. And next Friday I have to fast for 25 hours. But hey, that's life.
Over the next three months, as temperatures fall back to single digits (Celsius!) and the days get progressively shorter (in London we lose about 4 minutes per day, more than twice as fast as Los Angeles) we will continue getting on, getting on. I've learned to love the seasons, and while fall may not be as spectacular here as in New England, it is still lovely to watch the leaves fall. We're already talking about making an offer on a particular house, but we're in no particular hurry as house prices have fallen for the last three months, and are expected to continue falling. I am making plans to go to Amsterdam next month, ostensibly to visit a friend of mine, but really to connect with a city I fell in love with 20 years ago but have not seen since. Jessica's dad will be in London in October, my birthday is in November (hint, hint), and I'm still hoping I can convince Jess to take a long Christmas vacation to visit Los Angeles...via Australia.
Sure, we've got a bastardized government that is threatening the worst budget cuts in history, and the unions have responded with threats of strikes not seen since 1926, which could make the 'winter of discontent' look like a blustery day. (My company also does significant business with the government, so cuts would hit it hard.) Jess and I have spent three months fruitlessly searching for a house. I haven't been able to spend near enough time with my family, nor visit my friends in LA. And next Friday I have to fast for 25 hours. But hey, that's life.
Over the next three months, as temperatures fall back to single digits (Celsius!) and the days get progressively shorter (in London we lose about 4 minutes per day, more than twice as fast as Los Angeles) we will continue getting on, getting on. I've learned to love the seasons, and while fall may not be as spectacular here as in New England, it is still lovely to watch the leaves fall. We're already talking about making an offer on a particular house, but we're in no particular hurry as house prices have fallen for the last three months, and are expected to continue falling. I am making plans to go to Amsterdam next month, ostensibly to visit a friend of mine, but really to connect with a city I fell in love with 20 years ago but have not seen since. Jessica's dad will be in London in October, my birthday is in November (hint, hint), and I'm still hoping I can convince Jess to take a long Christmas vacation to visit Los Angeles...via Australia.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Anthems [and apologies]
[This week, spam was sent in my name, both via email and on the blog. I assure you, I was not trying to sell Viagra, but I apologize profusely.]
England does not have a national anthem, but there are four popular contenders:
In 1804, William Blake gave England this poem, though it was little known in its time. In 1916 it was set to music to improve morale during World War I, and has been known as "Jerusalem" since:
Video clips from the last night of the proms. (If you watch the clips from Hyde Park, you have absolutely no chance of seeing Jess and me, as we were far back and off to the side.)
England does not have a national anthem, but there are four popular contenders:
In 1804, William Blake gave England this poem, though it was little known in its time. In 1916 it was set to music to improve morale during World War I, and has been known as "Jerusalem" since:
And did those feet in ancient timeIn 1901, Elgar wrote "Pomp and Circumstance," now the traditional graduation song in America. In England, however, the tune was adapted as "Land of Hope and Glory"
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among those dark Satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my spear: O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
Dear Land of Hope, thy hope is crowned,"God Save the Queen" was first performed in 1745, although the tune is much older, and has been appropriated by many patriotic songs, including "America the Beautiful."
God make thee mightier yet !
On Sov'ran brows, beloved, renowned,
Once more thy crown is set.
Thine equal laws, by Freedom gained,
Have ruled thee well and long ;
By Freedom gained, by Truth maintained,
Thine Empire shall be strong.
Chorus
Land of Hope and Glory, Mother of the Free,
How shall we extol thee, who are born of thee?
Wider still and wider shall thy bounds be set;
God, who made thee mighty, make thee mightier yet,
God, who made thee mighty, make thee mightier yet.
Thy fame is ancient as the days,
As Ocean large and wide :
A pride that dares, and heeds not praise,
A stern and silent pride ;
Not that false joy that dreams content
With what our sires have won ;
The blood a hero sire hath spent
Still nerves a hero son.
Chorus
God save our gracious Queen,Even older, "Rule, Britannia!" is actually quite a silly little piece, but you wouldn't know that for all the flag-waving during the chorus:
Long live our noble Queen,
God save the Queen:
Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us:
God save the Queen.
O Lord, our God, arise,
Scatter her enemies,
And make them fall.
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On Thee our hopes we fix,
God save us all.
Thy choicest gifts in store,
On her be pleased to pour;
Long may she reign:
May she defend our laws,
And ever give us cause
To sing with heart and voice
God save the Queen.
When Britain fi-i-irst, at heaven's command,And finally, a surprise contender has to be "You'll Never Walk Alone," from Rodgers and Hammerstein's Carousel.
Aro-o-o-o-ose from out the a-a-a-zure main,
Arose, arose from out the azure main,
This was the charter, the charter of the land,
And guardian A-a-angels sang this strain:
Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves
Britons never, never, never will be slaves.
Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never will be slaves.
Still more maje-e-estic shalt thou rise,
More dre-e-e-e-eadful from each foreign stroke,
More dreadful, dreadful from each foreign stroke,
Loud blast above us, loud blast that tears the skies
Serves but to ro-o-o-ot thy native oak.
Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never will be slaves.
Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never will be slaves.
Video clips from the last night of the proms. (If you watch the clips from Hyde Park, you have absolutely no chance of seeing Jess and me, as we were far back and off to the side.)
Friday, September 10, 2010
History of holidays
Before the sixteenth century people did not go on holiday. It was only people on pilgrimage who could really be described as travelling for reasons other than work, and in a very limited way provision for accommodation was made for pilgrims along the routes they travelled, and at their popular destinations. In the seventeenth century, sons of rich families would undertake a tour of Europe, known as the Grand Tour. However, in general, there were no places for visitors to go, so no one travelled; and because no one travelled there were no places for visitors to go.
The spa towns of Bath and Buxton were mentioned in the Poor Law Act of 1572 as places popular with the sick. Slowly provision was made for the amusement of patients visiting these spas. Top London acting companies started to visit Bath, games were organised, and by the late sixteenth century spas were beginning to develop into pleasure resorts. The healthy as well as the sick started to visit. In 1705, Richard "Beau" Nash turned Bath into a first class tourist resort. He improved facilities, installed street lights, improved roads and organised top quality entertainments. However, these were for adults only, and were quite exclusive.
In 1752 Dr Richard Russell suggested that sea water was beneficial to health, overcoming deeply ingrained prejudice against sea bathing which went back to Roman times. Brighton, being close to London and favoured by Dr Russell, became Britain's premier seaside resort.
In the 19th century, with the rise the Industrial Revolution, factory workers were able to afford holidays, and would often disappear for a few days after pay day. To organize this, the Bank Holiday Act of 1871 turned a number of religious festivals into secular holidays, and the 1936 Annual Holiday Bill made paid holiday a statutory right.
The word "pilgrim" actually means stranger, or foreigner. Pilgrims would belong to a faith and their pilgrimage would take them to a place central to it. Perhaps in our rather fragmented modern world, there is a desire to find somewhere that confirms a sense of belonging. National boundaries come and go, divisions between people come and go, and history shows how changeable these divisions really are. Perhaps holidays ultimately teach us that none of us are strangers.
From The History of Holidays on infobritain.co.uk
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Might as well face it
[To Robert Palmer's Addicted to Love]
The lights are on, but you're not home
your mind is not your own
your heart sweats, your body shakes
another cup is what it takes
You can't sleep, you can't eat
There's no doubt, you're in deep
Your throat is tight, you can't breathe
Another cup is all you need
chorus:
Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh Yeah
It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough,
You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to tea
You see the signs, but you can't read
You're running at a different speed
Your heart beats in double time
Another cup and you'll be fine, a one-track mind
You can't be saved
Oblivion is all you crave
If there's some left for you
You don't mind if you do
[chorus]
Your lights are on, but you're not home
Your will is not your own
Your heart sweats your teeth grind
Another cup and you'll be fine
[chorus]
Might as well face it, you're addicted to tea
To be fair, all I did was replace 'love' with 'tea,' hardly a creative act, but it works for me. (You could probably even replace it with 'coffee' since the song doesn't seem to have a meter, never mind a rhyme.) The point is, I can't believe I've become addicted to tea. But there is something almost seductive about tea: it's soothing, almost a comfort food, to be enjoyed morning, noon, and night, and 3-4 times in between. I've even been known to pack tea bags on trips.
Fortunately, Jess and I have switched to decaf at home, or I'd be buzzing with the worst coffee fiends. And should I ever visit you, be sure to have plenty of the 'good stuff' (i.e. NOT Lipton) on hand, or there will be a midnight run to the local supermarket.
The lights are on, but you're not home
your mind is not your own
your heart sweats, your body shakes
another cup is what it takes
You can't sleep, you can't eat
There's no doubt, you're in deep
Your throat is tight, you can't breathe
Another cup is all you need
chorus:
Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh Yeah
It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough,
You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to tea
You see the signs, but you can't read
You're running at a different speed
Your heart beats in double time
Another cup and you'll be fine, a one-track mind
You can't be saved
Oblivion is all you crave
If there's some left for you
You don't mind if you do
[chorus]
Your lights are on, but you're not home
Your will is not your own
Your heart sweats your teeth grind
Another cup and you'll be fine
[chorus]
Might as well face it, you're addicted to tea
To be fair, all I did was replace 'love' with 'tea,' hardly a creative act, but it works for me. (You could probably even replace it with 'coffee' since the song doesn't seem to have a meter, never mind a rhyme.) The point is, I can't believe I've become addicted to tea. But there is something almost seductive about tea: it's soothing, almost a comfort food, to be enjoyed morning, noon, and night, and 3-4 times in between. I've even been known to pack tea bags on trips.
Fortunately, Jess and I have switched to decaf at home, or I'd be buzzing with the worst coffee fiends. And should I ever visit you, be sure to have plenty of the 'good stuff' (i.e. NOT Lipton) on hand, or there will be a midnight run to the local supermarket.
Friday, September 3, 2010
European paper
In Europe, paper sizes are based on an aspect ratio of the square root of 2 (that is, the long side is 1.4142 times the short side). Thus, each size is exactly one half of the next larger size, and folded brochures of any size can be made by using sheets of the next larger size.
The advantages of an aspect ratio of √2 were noted in 1786, but the current system wasn't introduced until 1922, where the base format (A0) is a sheet of paper measuring 1 square meter, A1 is half that, A2 is half that again, and so forth. A4 is approx. 8.3" × 11.7". A8 (business cards) are approx 2.9" × 2".
Today the standard has been adopted by all countries in the world except the United States and Canada.
By contrast, the American Forest and Paper Association think 8.5" x 11" originates from manual paper making, where 11" is "a quarter of the average maximum stretch of an experienced vatman's arms."
The advantages of an aspect ratio of √2 were noted in 1786, but the current system wasn't introduced until 1922, where the base format (A0) is a sheet of paper measuring 1 square meter, A1 is half that, A2 is half that again, and so forth. A4 is approx. 8.3" × 11.7". A8 (business cards) are approx 2.9" × 2".
Today the standard has been adopted by all countries in the world except the United States and Canada.
By contrast, the American Forest and Paper Association think 8.5" x 11" originates from manual paper making, where 11" is "a quarter of the average maximum stretch of an experienced vatman's arms."
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Another whirlwind visit
In my company, my group gets rented out to the other divisions. Unfortunately, the project I was on wanted my time but didn't want to pay for it, leading to a bit of tug-of-war with me in the middle. The result was I had a ton of work, but was ordered not to work on it!
That was fine by me-I get paid the same regardless-and thanks to Jess I was able to make short, spur-of-the moment visits to my family. In July I gave my mom 2 days' notice before flying to California, and last week I gave my uncle 1 days' notice before flying to Atlanta.
Both trips were only 4 days, as I didn't want to take too much time off. Trying to deal with jet lag is not easy, but I cope by staying awake on the way out, and knocking myself out on the way back. Yesterday, I arrived at Heathrow at 10am, went home for a change of clothes, went into the office, then after work visited a friend in the hospital, not getting home until almost 11pm. (We'll ignore the hour I spent lost because my SatNav thought I should drive through a public park.) It was a very long day.
On the bright side, at least this time I didn't miss the flight.
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