Thursday, April 29, 2004
Introversion
Via Neal Stephenson's website, a Jonathan Rausch article about the difference between introverts and extroverts.
I have never seen my own personality summarized so succinctly.
An excerpt:
Precisely.
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I have never seen my own personality summarized so succinctly.
An excerpt:
Are introverts misunderstood? Wildly. That, it appears, is our lot in life. "It is very difficult for an extrovert to understand an introvert," write the education experts Jill D. Burruss and Lisa Kaenzig... Extroverts are easy for introverts to understand, because extroverts spend so much of their time working out who they are in voluble, and frequently inescapable, interaction with other people. They are as inscrutable as puppy dogs. But the street does not run both ways. Extroverts have little or no grasp of introversion. They assume that company, especially their own, is always welcome. They cannot imagine why someone would need to be alone; indeed, they often take umbrage at the suggestion. As often as I have tried to explain the matter to extroverts, I have never sensed that any of them really understood. They listen for a moment and then go back to barking and yipping.
Precisely.
Monday, April 26, 2004
The Rise and Fall and Rise and Fall and Rise and Fall of Nations
Played the BEST GAME OF CIVILIZATION 2 EVER this weekend. I used a custom map of my own design, and tweaks to remove population and money caps, plus more to enhance the food yield of arable land.
It was a barn-burner.
The Japanese jumped out to an early lead in tech research; my poor Americans barely held on by completing the Great Library wonder, which gave them access to tons of research done in other lands. Once they had achieved complete technological dominance, the Japanese went on a tear, destroying the civilization of the Vikings, my erstwhile allies, while I stood by, unwilling to tempt the Japanese juggernaut.
Then the Russians destroyed the fledgling German civilization that sprang up briefly in the aftermath of the Vikings' destruction. I believe the Germans managed to build exactly two cities.
The Greeks took a page from the Japanese and Russian books and attacked the burgeoning Spanish empire. After a few hundred years of war, the Spanish empire was laid waste. In their foolish pride, the Greeks then attacked the Indians, under their fearsome emperor Mahatma Ghandi; in a bitter and portracted war, the Indians conquered most of the Greek homeland, leaving them only a few cities at the fringes of their main continent and the cities they had managed to wrest from the Spanish on the continent to the west.
Then the Indians turned their attention to the Russians, and in a lightning campaign took Moscow. This triggered a civil war in the vasty Russian empire, which split into two factions: the loyalist Russians and the rebel Aztecs. The Aztecs proved the better warriors, and within a few hundred more years, the Russian empire was no more.
The Aztecs and the Greeks went to war for reasons long forgotten, and the Aztecs managed to take many of the cities of the former Greek continent. Fighting for the cities on that continent's north coast -- just a few squares away from my American continent's southern tip -- was a bloody see-saw, with each of three cities changing hands no less than three times.
During all this time, I had focused solely on building up my cities and covering the continent I'd settled. I built a huge infrastructure of roads and later railroads, and irrigated every square inch of land that wasn't either unarable or already yielding some valuable commodity. Once my cities had built every conceivable improvement -- from granaries to Strategic Defense Initiative laser batteries to solar powerplants -- I began building my army from a simple defensive constabulary (which despite its small size had ably defended the continent from half-hearted attempts at encroachment by the Greeks and the Indians) to a massive, agile, dynamic, and lethal steamroller, with emphasis on offensive units able to breach enemy walls and pulverize enemy units. But I kept this sword sheathed; it was important to me to maintain my Spotless reputation among the nations.
(I should mention that my government type was Fascist, which does not come with the original game. I modified the Fundamentalist government type found in the game to remove most of the penalties to research while removing the Fanatics unit, which Fundamentalist governments get for free, for balance.)
Of course, the Japanese decided that my nation's rise could not be countenanced, and foolishly attacked me, even managing to land a massive invasion force on my beaches. As my heavy armored forces threw the invaders back into the sea, I launched a massive two-pronged assault on the Japanese empire, which now spanned a continent the size of Asia and Europe combined, with most of Africa thrown in for good measure. I attacked both their westernmost cities and the cradle of their civilization in the far east; I took one city in the west and had crushed the defenses of three other cities nearby, when my forces at the far end of the continent took Kyoto and the gargantuan Japanese empire split into Japanese and Viking factions. The Vikings had re-emerged after a hundred years of subjugation and were once again in charge of their ancestral cities. I accepted the Japanese surrender, thinking they had learned their lesson.
I was mistaken. Refusing to pay me tribute for my infinite patience, the Japanese again attacked me, trying to dislodge my armies from Kyoto. But I had built up forces there, and took the new Japanese capital of Edo... which split the Japanese empire again, this time with a brand new Roman faction arising in the south. The Japanese sued for peace with me, and destroyed the rebel Romans.
Then the Aztecs, apparently oblivious to my overwhelming superiority to the powerful Japanese, pressed an assault against me. I attacked their holdings on the former Spanish continent, those that had been taken from the Greeks by the Russians and had been wrenched from the Russians by the rebel Aztecs. I took every Aztec city on the former Greek continent and then turned my attention to the former Russian empire, now ruled mostly by the Aztecs but with a few cities here and there in Indian hands. I took half of the former Russian continent, all of the Aztec cities in its western half, and the Aztecs begged for peace.
Now once again did the Japanese seek to turn me out of their former capital cities, but this time I would give no quarter. When I took their new capital of Matsuyama, the remnants of the Japanese empire once again dissolved into civil war, with the Romans again rising to press their claims, but I also attacked them, determined that there would be no challenge to my suzerainty over what had once been the Japanese empire. In the course of a single year of war, I took every remaining Japanese city (about twenty or thirty), plus all but two of the Roman cities, leaving the Romans only two remote cities in the farthest east. The Japanese empire, once the proudest in the world, was ashes under my soldiers' boots.
Two years later, I was forced by the precipitous actions of the Romans to erase them from the world.
A few years of blessed peace followed, but the Vikings, ungrateful for my liberation of them from the evil Japanese, rose up to attack me. Again I determined that there would be no respite from my vengeance. I took every city of the Viking empire, saving only one remote city, on the chance that in time they would see the error of their ways and seek reconciliation with me.
Thus, the situation now. The Greek, Indian, and Aztec empires remain, still powerful, but more interested in fighting each other than fighting me. In time, however, they too shall fall... and my dominion over the earth shall know no end...
(Honestly, it was a great game. The power graph looks like a vector-scan tracing of the paths of six bouncing balls.)
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It was a barn-burner.
The Japanese jumped out to an early lead in tech research; my poor Americans barely held on by completing the Great Library wonder, which gave them access to tons of research done in other lands. Once they had achieved complete technological dominance, the Japanese went on a tear, destroying the civilization of the Vikings, my erstwhile allies, while I stood by, unwilling to tempt the Japanese juggernaut.
Then the Russians destroyed the fledgling German civilization that sprang up briefly in the aftermath of the Vikings' destruction. I believe the Germans managed to build exactly two cities.
The Greeks took a page from the Japanese and Russian books and attacked the burgeoning Spanish empire. After a few hundred years of war, the Spanish empire was laid waste. In their foolish pride, the Greeks then attacked the Indians, under their fearsome emperor Mahatma Ghandi; in a bitter and portracted war, the Indians conquered most of the Greek homeland, leaving them only a few cities at the fringes of their main continent and the cities they had managed to wrest from the Spanish on the continent to the west.
Then the Indians turned their attention to the Russians, and in a lightning campaign took Moscow. This triggered a civil war in the vasty Russian empire, which split into two factions: the loyalist Russians and the rebel Aztecs. The Aztecs proved the better warriors, and within a few hundred more years, the Russian empire was no more.
The Aztecs and the Greeks went to war for reasons long forgotten, and the Aztecs managed to take many of the cities of the former Greek continent. Fighting for the cities on that continent's north coast -- just a few squares away from my American continent's southern tip -- was a bloody see-saw, with each of three cities changing hands no less than three times.
During all this time, I had focused solely on building up my cities and covering the continent I'd settled. I built a huge infrastructure of roads and later railroads, and irrigated every square inch of land that wasn't either unarable or already yielding some valuable commodity. Once my cities had built every conceivable improvement -- from granaries to Strategic Defense Initiative laser batteries to solar powerplants -- I began building my army from a simple defensive constabulary (which despite its small size had ably defended the continent from half-hearted attempts at encroachment by the Greeks and the Indians) to a massive, agile, dynamic, and lethal steamroller, with emphasis on offensive units able to breach enemy walls and pulverize enemy units. But I kept this sword sheathed; it was important to me to maintain my Spotless reputation among the nations.
(I should mention that my government type was Fascist, which does not come with the original game. I modified the Fundamentalist government type found in the game to remove most of the penalties to research while removing the Fanatics unit, which Fundamentalist governments get for free, for balance.)
Of course, the Japanese decided that my nation's rise could not be countenanced, and foolishly attacked me, even managing to land a massive invasion force on my beaches. As my heavy armored forces threw the invaders back into the sea, I launched a massive two-pronged assault on the Japanese empire, which now spanned a continent the size of Asia and Europe combined, with most of Africa thrown in for good measure. I attacked both their westernmost cities and the cradle of their civilization in the far east; I took one city in the west and had crushed the defenses of three other cities nearby, when my forces at the far end of the continent took Kyoto and the gargantuan Japanese empire split into Japanese and Viking factions. The Vikings had re-emerged after a hundred years of subjugation and were once again in charge of their ancestral cities. I accepted the Japanese surrender, thinking they had learned their lesson.
I was mistaken. Refusing to pay me tribute for my infinite patience, the Japanese again attacked me, trying to dislodge my armies from Kyoto. But I had built up forces there, and took the new Japanese capital of Edo... which split the Japanese empire again, this time with a brand new Roman faction arising in the south. The Japanese sued for peace with me, and destroyed the rebel Romans.
Then the Aztecs, apparently oblivious to my overwhelming superiority to the powerful Japanese, pressed an assault against me. I attacked their holdings on the former Spanish continent, those that had been taken from the Greeks by the Russians and had been wrenched from the Russians by the rebel Aztecs. I took every Aztec city on the former Greek continent and then turned my attention to the former Russian empire, now ruled mostly by the Aztecs but with a few cities here and there in Indian hands. I took half of the former Russian continent, all of the Aztec cities in its western half, and the Aztecs begged for peace.
Now once again did the Japanese seek to turn me out of their former capital cities, but this time I would give no quarter. When I took their new capital of Matsuyama, the remnants of the Japanese empire once again dissolved into civil war, with the Romans again rising to press their claims, but I also attacked them, determined that there would be no challenge to my suzerainty over what had once been the Japanese empire. In the course of a single year of war, I took every remaining Japanese city (about twenty or thirty), plus all but two of the Roman cities, leaving the Romans only two remote cities in the farthest east. The Japanese empire, once the proudest in the world, was ashes under my soldiers' boots.
Two years later, I was forced by the precipitous actions of the Romans to erase them from the world.
A few years of blessed peace followed, but the Vikings, ungrateful for my liberation of them from the evil Japanese, rose up to attack me. Again I determined that there would be no respite from my vengeance. I took every city of the Viking empire, saving only one remote city, on the chance that in time they would see the error of their ways and seek reconciliation with me.
Thus, the situation now. The Greek, Indian, and Aztec empires remain, still powerful, but more interested in fighting each other than fighting me. In time, however, they too shall fall... and my dominion over the earth shall know no end...
(Honestly, it was a great game. The power graph looks like a vector-scan tracing of the paths of six bouncing balls.)
Friday, April 23, 2004
Hymnody
I used to go to a church where they'd project songs up on the massive walls at the front of the sanctuary, while the congregation sang to the accompaniment of many, many acoustic guitars.
I could never warm to it.
I don't like campfire songs in church. They have their place... around campfires. Surely they bless some people, and I'd not be a stumbling block to them. But as Sunday morning praise, sung during the time we have "mystic sweet communion" with the heavenly hosts who praise the Lord throughout all the days, those 1970's guitar-fests drive me up the wall they're projected on.
(But at least the guitar-fests and praise music are better than the crap on a cracker that passes for music where karaoke is fashionable. I despise karaoke in church.)
Color me traditionalist. I was raised singing certain hymns -- hymns, mind you -- and to my jaded, cynical, narrow mind, they're still the best.
I think I would probably be happiest if I could find a church that sang only a few certain hymns, to the accompaniment of a gigantic pipe organ, preferably played by ol' Johann Sebastian B. himself. Hymns like:
God of Our Fathers
A Mighty Fortress Is Our God
Crown Him With Many Crowns
All Hail the Power (both arrangements, preferably with one sung before and one after the proclamation of the Word)
O Sacred Head Now Wounded
And Can It Be (Amazing Love)
Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing
It Is Well With My Soul
Holy, Holy, Holy
When I Survey the Wondrous Cross
Great Is Thy Faithfulness
I've left some out. Anybody want to help me remember?
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I could never warm to it.
I don't like campfire songs in church. They have their place... around campfires. Surely they bless some people, and I'd not be a stumbling block to them. But as Sunday morning praise, sung during the time we have "mystic sweet communion" with the heavenly hosts who praise the Lord throughout all the days, those 1970's guitar-fests drive me up the wall they're projected on.
(But at least the guitar-fests and praise music are better than the crap on a cracker that passes for music where karaoke is fashionable. I despise karaoke in church.)
Color me traditionalist. I was raised singing certain hymns -- hymns, mind you -- and to my jaded, cynical, narrow mind, they're still the best.
I think I would probably be happiest if I could find a church that sang only a few certain hymns, to the accompaniment of a gigantic pipe organ, preferably played by ol' Johann Sebastian B. himself. Hymns like:
God of Our Fathers
A Mighty Fortress Is Our God
Crown Him With Many Crowns
All Hail the Power (both arrangements, preferably with one sung before and one after the proclamation of the Word)
O Sacred Head Now Wounded
And Can It Be (Amazing Love)
Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing
It Is Well With My Soul
Holy, Holy, Holy
When I Survey the Wondrous Cross
Great Is Thy Faithfulness
I've left some out. Anybody want to help me remember?
NEA Update
My school rep told me today that the NEA has not contributed money to the "March for Women's Lives." She also assured me that it would be open to any other group under similar circumstances. She couldn't tell me whether the building would normally be open on a Sunday.
Upshot: Buzz off, you're bugging us.
Which is why I am more determined than ever to make contact with the rebels...
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Upshot: Buzz off, you're bugging us.
Which is why I am more determined than ever to make contact with the rebels...
Maybe he should curse more often
John Effin' Kerry is losing the support of young voters at a brisk clip.
Pandering to the easily-distracted was probably not Kerry's smartest move.
More at La Shawn Barber's Corner.
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[Y]oung voters’ faltering approval of Kerry is particularly surprising if only because the senator has sometimes seemed willing to do everything short of appearing in a Jessica Simpson video in order to attract youth support.
Pandering to the easily-distracted was probably not Kerry's smartest move.
More at La Shawn Barber's Corner.
Letter from a Marine Mother
At Sgt. Hook's blog there's a letter from a mother of Marines serving in Iraq. You need to read it.
Sgt. Hook is an American soldier serving in Afghanistan. His blog is now on my "must visit daily" list.
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Sgt. Hook is an American soldier serving in Afghanistan. His blog is now on my "must visit daily" list.
Just when I think I'm out... they pull me back in
Background: About a year after college, back in 1994, I was a delegate to the local Republican convention (and would've gone to the state convention to nominate a senatorial candidate, had work not intervened). This was the second major election in Virginia since the election of Clinton, and we Republicans were pretty high on the fact that our gerrymandering-ousted junior congressman, George Allen, had defeated an incumbent Democrat, Mary Sue Terry, after a nasty campaign -- nasty on Terry's part, anyway. We were in fact so high on this victory that we nominated Oliver North to run for the Senate against incumbent Chuck Robb.
Live and learn.
(Actually, I supported North's opponent for the nomination, an economic policy wonk named James Miller, if memory serves. I never cast a vote for North during the nomination process but I did during the election. And I shook hands with the good Colonel at the local convention, where he spoke rousingly.)
Ah, they were heady days. A high school and college acquaintance of mine tried to enlist me in a sting operation designed to prove that local party officials were stacking the vote for North by offering to pay off delegates to the state convention. I accepted the mission but did not carry it out because it made me feel slimy. People seeking offices were calling me, talking to me at conventions, trying to woo me to serve their own ends.
It was all a bit too much, though. I did not seek out delegate status the next time the election machinery rumbled to life, nor any time since. I have never, to my recollection, contributed anything but time and a skeptical ear to the Republican party -- and votes, of course, and the occasional e-mail debate or Usenet "discussion."
I thought it was all behind me.
Imagine my surprise, then, when I received, about a month ago, a fundraising letter from the RNC, delivered to my current Georgia address, which to my knowledge I've never provided to any political party. (I am on the Howard Dean mailing list, but that's another story.) I registered to vote in Georgia last fall, but the Georgia voter registration form doesn't call for a declaration of party affiliation.
They've found me. How did they find me?
This morning, in my mailbox, I found an envelope from the RNC, bearing the warning: "PRESIDENTIAL PHOTO ENCLOSED. DO NOT BEND." Alternate interpretations of that last line aside, I was again a little freaked out.
They know where I live.
The photo is a nice one. It shows the President at his desk, pencil in hand, studying a document of some sort on which he has circled paragraphs and made annotations. He's got a telephone handset wedged between his shoulder and his ear, and it's clear he's engaged in a momentous conversation of some kind. Skeletal, leafless trees are visible through the windows behind him. It's an 8X12, though the picture is smaller to allow space for the message at the bottom:
Exsqueeze me? "Grassroots leaders"? I haven't lead anything, grassroots or otherwise, even during my brief tenure as a local delegate. And I've never ever given any money to the party.
Which, of course, is the point. It's a fundraiser.
Just a few points from this:
1. This fundraiser operates on the "flattery will get you everywhere" principle. Of course it's flattering to receive an unsolicited, machine-signed picture of the most powerful man in the world calling you a "leader." I am strongly considering sending a donation to the party.
2. Let no one say the Republican Party's grassroots efforts are disorganized or inefficient. I live at the dead end of a country road fifteen miles from nowhere in the foothills of Georgia, and they still found me.
3. I wonder whom I have to talk to, to become a delegate in Georgia?
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Live and learn.
(Actually, I supported North's opponent for the nomination, an economic policy wonk named James Miller, if memory serves. I never cast a vote for North during the nomination process but I did during the election. And I shook hands with the good Colonel at the local convention, where he spoke rousingly.)
Ah, they were heady days. A high school and college acquaintance of mine tried to enlist me in a sting operation designed to prove that local party officials were stacking the vote for North by offering to pay off delegates to the state convention. I accepted the mission but did not carry it out because it made me feel slimy. People seeking offices were calling me, talking to me at conventions, trying to woo me to serve their own ends.
It was all a bit too much, though. I did not seek out delegate status the next time the election machinery rumbled to life, nor any time since. I have never, to my recollection, contributed anything but time and a skeptical ear to the Republican party -- and votes, of course, and the occasional e-mail debate or Usenet "discussion."
I thought it was all behind me.
Imagine my surprise, then, when I received, about a month ago, a fundraising letter from the RNC, delivered to my current Georgia address, which to my knowledge I've never provided to any political party. (I am on the Howard Dean mailing list, but that's another story.) I registered to vote in Georgia last fall, but the Georgia voter registration form doesn't call for a declaration of party affiliation.
They've found me. How did they find me?
This morning, in my mailbox, I found an envelope from the RNC, bearing the warning: "PRESIDENTIAL PHOTO ENCLOSED. DO NOT BEND." Alternate interpretations of that last line aside, I was again a little freaked out.
They know where I live.
The photo is a nice one. It shows the President at his desk, pencil in hand, studying a document of some sort on which he has circled paragraphs and made annotations. He's got a telephone handset wedged between his shoulder and his ear, and it's clear he's engaged in a momentous conversation of some kind. Skeletal, leafless trees are visible through the windows behind him. It's an 8X12, though the picture is smaller to allow space for the message at the bottom:
To Mr. Stephen Tilson,
Thank you for your support of the Republican National Committee. Grassroots leaders like you are the key to building a better, stronger, more secure future for our nation and all Americans.
Best wishes,
(signed) George Bush
Exsqueeze me? "Grassroots leaders"? I haven't lead anything, grassroots or otherwise, even during my brief tenure as a local delegate. And I've never ever given any money to the party.
Which, of course, is the point. It's a fundraiser.
Just a few points from this:
1. This fundraiser operates on the "flattery will get you everywhere" principle. Of course it's flattering to receive an unsolicited, machine-signed picture of the most powerful man in the world calling you a "leader." I am strongly considering sending a donation to the party.
2. Let no one say the Republican Party's grassroots efforts are disorganized or inefficient. I live at the dead end of a country road fifteen miles from nowhere in the foothills of Georgia, and they still found me.
3. I wonder whom I have to talk to, to become a delegate in Georgia?
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Master and Commander
Here's something I wrote back in November, during the initial theatrical release of the film Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. The movie's out on DVD now.
I'm afraid I may have gushed a bit when I wrote this.
Time tempers enthusiasm, of course, but my enthusiasm for this movie is still intense. It rivals -- and indeed may surpass -- my affections for Return of the King as my favorite film of 2003. I'd've voted M&C over ROTK for Best Picture.
That said, there are a couple more caveats:
1. The character of Maturin, though well-played by Paul Bettany (I'd often thought only Tim Curry could do the role justice, but I was wrong), is not nearly as developed in the film as he should have been. Indeed, the surface of the Aubrey-Maturin friendship is barely scratched, and part of the problem is that Maturin remains only a shadow of what he is in the books. For example: there's nothing in the movie to suggest that his line about the French having their spies in England as the English have theirs in France goes deeper than a simplistic observation; actually, Maturin is a spy for British intelligence, and a cunning and effective one, but you have to read the books to learn that.
2. The screenwriters, unwilling to depict a 19th century natural philosopher as a creationist, despite that character's religious beliefs (obviously, intelligent people as far back as 1805 knew that animals change themselves to adapt to their environments, rather than being created with innate defenses against other created predators), put a great deal of Darwinian claptrap in Maturin's mouth -- this despite the fact that Darwin's voyage wouldn't occur until a quarter of a century after the events of M&C.
Oh, and I was wrong about Bonden. Hollar is the boatswain; Bonden is the coxswain.
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I'm afraid I may have gushed a bit when I wrote this.
My first reaction, upon hearing that a movie would be made of Patrick O'Brian's brilliant sea novels, was "There's no way it'll be any good."
My reaction, upon hearing that sourpuss Russell Crowe would be playing the ebullient Jack Aubrey and that spry Paul Bettany would be playing the sourpuss Stephen Maturin, was "As if I needed another reason to hate Russell Crowe."
My reaction, upon hearing that Peter Weir would be the director, was "Then there *is* a shred of hope... but only a shred."
Saturday, I saw Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World.
Then I saw it again, just to be sure I wasn't wrong about it.
I think it is fair, and safe, to say that this is the best movie I have seen since... ever.
I don't know where to begin singing this movie's praises, so I'll start with my greatest concern: that it would be dumbed down for the masses. I am happy... nay, ecstatic... nay, turning backflips for unbridled joy... that it has not been. The meat of an O'Brian novel (or several) is there, to a far greater extent than we have any right to expect of a movie based on a book. The friendship between Aubrey and Maturin: present and accounted for. Their arguments over subjugation and authority, and Maturin's mixture of disdain and respect for the navy: right there. Aubrey's ebullience in the wardroom and intensity on the quarterdeck: Crowe nails both with the best performance I've ever seen from him.
And there are the supporting characters, doing exactly what they do. Pullings, pleasant and competent, Aubrey's right hand. Bonden, the boatswain (IIRC from the books), cheerful and solidly played by Billy Boyd (who has a role in another movie I've heard a couple of things about, coming out Dec. 17). Davis, big and glowering and teetering on the brink of psychopathy. And, of course, Preserved Killick, who could teach C-3PO a thing or two about complaining, gathering eggs from the ship's hens, and muttering about Aubrey and Maturin's frequent concertos on violin and bass: "there they go again, scrape scrape scrape, and never an honest tune you can dance to... "
There's Surprise herself, of course. God love her, the worthy boat; she is exactly as I'd envisioned her, taking on an American-built, French-flagged heavy frigate with only her captain's skill and luck to protect her. It is almost impossible for me not to feel the wounds she suffers in the movie's opening moments as if they were my own; and Aubrey clearly feels them, as he defends her from Maturin's unknowing comment that she is "aged."
Peter Weir's direction, and the pacing and editing of the movie, is as austere as the lives of the men it depicts. There are no directorly moments, no self-aggrandizing camera tricks or what-a-clever-boy-am-I effects. The screen is a window through which we view the lives and conflicts of men who carry the fates of nations on their duty-pressed backs. This stands in sharp contrast to movies like "Kill Bill," where *every* shot is the director's attempt to be cool. (In Kill Bill's defense, it usually works.) Master and Commander, by contrast, is a movie made by adults, for adults.
And yet there's plenty in it for kids... or, at least, for boys on the brink of manhood. The 12 and 13 year-old midshipmen of the Royal Navy have duties and responsibilities that would literally kill the middle-schooler of today -- and often killed the midshipmen themselves. Master and Commander sports three midshipmen of note; one of them acquits himself with heroics he had only imagined himself capable of in the movie's opening moments, and the other two... well, go see the movie. And if you have a son about to become a man, by all means, take him to see it, too.
I could go on and on, but I've already gone on longer than I'd intended. So I'll close with a caveat:
If you see the movie, and like it (as anyone with even a modicum of taste will), go read the books. As faithful as the movie is, it still cannot hope to capture the depth and complexity of characters developed over the course of not one, not three, but twenty novels by one of the greatest writers of our age. Aubrey and Maturin have secrets and struggles that aren't even hinted at in the movie. This doesn't diminish the movie, but it does point out how the best advice is that given by Aubrey to a
recuperating midshipman Blakeney:
"You should read the book."
In Master and Commander's case, you should *also* see the movie.
Time tempers enthusiasm, of course, but my enthusiasm for this movie is still intense. It rivals -- and indeed may surpass -- my affections for Return of the King as my favorite film of 2003. I'd've voted M&C over ROTK for Best Picture.
That said, there are a couple more caveats:
1. The character of Maturin, though well-played by Paul Bettany (I'd often thought only Tim Curry could do the role justice, but I was wrong), is not nearly as developed in the film as he should have been. Indeed, the surface of the Aubrey-Maturin friendship is barely scratched, and part of the problem is that Maturin remains only a shadow of what he is in the books. For example: there's nothing in the movie to suggest that his line about the French having their spies in England as the English have theirs in France goes deeper than a simplistic observation; actually, Maturin is a spy for British intelligence, and a cunning and effective one, but you have to read the books to learn that.
2. The screenwriters, unwilling to depict a 19th century natural philosopher as a creationist, despite that character's religious beliefs (obviously, intelligent people as far back as 1805 knew that animals change themselves to adapt to their environments, rather than being created with innate defenses against other created predators), put a great deal of Darwinian claptrap in Maturin's mouth -- this despite the fact that Darwin's voyage wouldn't occur until a quarter of a century after the events of M&C.
Oh, and I was wrong about Bonden. Hollar is the boatswain; Bonden is the coxswain.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
More about the NEA thing
My union rep told me this afternoon that as far as she's been able to gather from her union sources, the co-sponsorship of the march amounts to having the NEA's building in DC, which faces on the march route, open for "people to use the bathroom" -- sort of a way-station for the weary marchers (and counterdemonstrators, presumably).
All right, assume that's the case, and the NEA hasn't actually pumped money into the march. I still have questions:
1. Would that building normally be open on a Sunday?
1a. If not, how much does it cost to open it to the demonstrators?
1b. If so, why is the march listing the NEA as a co-sponsor, if it's only facilities?
2. Would it be open, under similar circumstances, to pro-life marchers? NRLC? Operation Rescue? Will it be open to counterdemonstrators?
3. Does the NEA think it's fooling anybody with its "life is a choice, too, therefore pro-choice = pro-life" sophistry?
I've asked the rep for links to her sources. More information as I get it.
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All right, assume that's the case, and the NEA hasn't actually pumped money into the march. I still have questions:
1. Would that building normally be open on a Sunday?
1a. If not, how much does it cost to open it to the demonstrators?
1b. If so, why is the march listing the NEA as a co-sponsor, if it's only facilities?
2. Would it be open, under similar circumstances, to pro-life marchers? NRLC? Operation Rescue? Will it be open to counterdemonstrators?
3. Does the NEA think it's fooling anybody with its "life is a choice, too, therefore pro-choice = pro-life" sophistry?
I've asked the rep for links to her sources. More information as I get it.
Because you can never have too many links...
Added today, links to the blogs of the Blogdom of God Alliance.
Visit also the Evangelical Aggregator.
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Visit also the Evangelical Aggregator.
The union label
I knew, when I joined the NEA back in the fall of 2002, that they'd eventually do something that would make me want to leave.
Mission friggin' accomplished.
I know; it was a snake when I picked it up.
EDIT: Credit where due: thanks to La Shawn Barber for alerting me to this. You will search in vain on the NEA's website for mention of their co-sponsorship of the march.
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Mission friggin' accomplished.
I know; it was a snake when I picked it up.
EDIT: Credit where due: thanks to La Shawn Barber for alerting me to this. You will search in vain on the NEA's website for mention of their co-sponsorship of the march.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Iraqi terrorists threaten Iraqi Christians
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Monday, April 19, 2004
Persecution watch
From Voice of the Martyrs, another report of persecution of Christians in China:
And in Iraq, one of the French journalists held hostage and later released said this about his captors' questioning of him:
Since Jordanov is still alive, he presumably answered in the negative. This is not an option for a Christian who wishes to remain obedient to his Savior:
So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven.
In the same chapter of Matthew, Jesus tells His followers to expect persecution, and how to face it.
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A 100-year-old building that housed an unregistered Chinese house church was badly damaged on March 11, then completely destroyed March 31. The church was located in Dong Gang Xi village, Beilun District, Ningbo City, Zhejiang Province. This congregation included about 300 members, and had existed for the past 20 years. Liu Fuen, 50, pastored the church throughout its history.
...Seeing the destruction, four neighbors who were not Christians complained to Wang [Director of the Religious Affairs Bureau (RAB) for Beilun District], saying, “How can you arbitrarily destroy someone’s house?”
Wang ordered the four neighbors—Mu Jingou, Li Youfu, Li Liangfang and Zhang Weilong—arrested and held on Administrative Detention for 15 days.
...Pastor Liu Fuen went into hiding after his home was destroyed, but was arrested April 9 by six PSB officers at the home of his youngest son, Liu Yongsheng.
Police were not done harassing this church. The congregation gathered for Easter Sunday services at the home of Liu Mingliang, Pastor Liu’s oldest son. PSB officers again raided the service, arresting Mingliang and breaking up the service. The raiding officers were led by Hu Xinyu, head of the so-called Political Protection Division of the district PSB.
The family has been given “Criminal Detention” paperwork for both Pastor Liu and for Liu Mingliang. While Administrative Detention signifies 15 days of incarceration, a “criminal detention” will last an indefinite period of time.
And in Iraq, one of the French journalists held hostage and later released said this about his captors' questioning of him:
His captors sometimes probed him about his religious beliefs, asking him about Jesus, known in Arabic as Isa.
They asked, "Is Isa the son of God?" Jordanov recalled. Muslims believe Jesus was a prophet, but not of divine birth.
"You are facing 12 Islamists. There is no room for a mistake," he said they told him.
Since Jordanov is still alive, he presumably answered in the negative. This is not an option for a Christian who wishes to remain obedient to his Savior:
So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven.
In the same chapter of Matthew, Jesus tells His followers to expect persecution, and how to face it.
Friday, April 16, 2004
Terrorist Tactics
Marines in Fallujah have observed terrorists using ambulances to transport weapons, according to this press release.
Michael Moore, take note:
These are your "Minutemen," you lying sack of overripe dog crap.
(Moore's obnoxious column fisked at Right Thinking from the Left Coast. Hat tip to Andrew Sullivan.)
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Marines in the city witnessed an ambulance back up to a mosque inside Fallujah. Occupants from the vehicle subsequently carried weapons into the mosque. In a similar incident, another ambulance parked in front of a building and weapons were taken inside the structure.
By using ambulances, they are putting Iraqis in harm’s way by denying them a critical component of urgent medical care. Mosques, ambulances and hospitals are protected under Geneva Convention agreements and are not targeted by U.S. Marines. However, once they are used for the purpose of hostile intent toward Coalition Forces, they lose their protected status and may be targeted.
Michael Moore, take note:
Enemy action today also threatened civilian medical care to the Iraqis. About noon today, two enemy mortar rounds impacted inside the Jordanian Hospital compound in Fallujah. Two Jordanian citizens were injured. The Jordanian Hospital is one of the few sites around Fallujah where civilians are able to seek medical treatment.
These are your "Minutemen," you lying sack of overripe dog crap.
(Moore's obnoxious column fisked at Right Thinking from the Left Coast. Hat tip to Andrew Sullivan.)
What? Me, apologize?
David Limbaugh makes a good point in today's column on why the President should not apologize for 9/11.
Government culpability for common crimes may not really be a common liberal position (if it is, it's certainly never barred a liberal from insisting that the answer to societal problems is more government), but Limbaugh has a point here; for the President to accept blame for something no sane person would claim to have been able to predict in the summer of '01 would be another nail in the coffin of the clearly obsolete concept that when a homicidal fanatic commits mass murder, it's the homicidal fanatic's fault.
But of course, the calls for Bush to apologize have nothing to do with assuaging survivors' grief, and still less with moral courage.
What those who are calling for an apology want is a soundbite to run in Kerry's campaign ads. They're playing to the people in this Cox and Forkum cartoon.
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If President Bush is responsible for some unannounced, elaborate murderous plot by America's enemies, then our government is responsible for all crimes, not the criminals who commit them (which, by the way, is not such a farfetched concept among the liberal elite).
Government culpability for common crimes may not really be a common liberal position (if it is, it's certainly never barred a liberal from insisting that the answer to societal problems is more government), but Limbaugh has a point here; for the President to accept blame for something no sane person would claim to have been able to predict in the summer of '01 would be another nail in the coffin of the clearly obsolete concept that when a homicidal fanatic commits mass murder, it's the homicidal fanatic's fault.
But of course, the calls for Bush to apologize have nothing to do with assuaging survivors' grief, and still less with moral courage.
An unwarranted apology wouldn't help the victims' families. But it would help the perpetrators by shifting blame away from them. And it would help President Bush's political opponents -- at least they think it would -- who long for that one self-damning soundbite with which to hang the president.
What those who are calling for an apology want is a soundbite to run in Kerry's campaign ads. They're playing to the people in this Cox and Forkum cartoon.
Lord of the Drugs
I'm reading the manufacturer's product data sheet for my new BP medication, Diovan HCT, and I'm about a third of the way through it, when it strikes me that between the scientific names of various chemicals and physical conditions, the sheet would be a great source of characteer names for anyone writing an epic Tolkienian fantasy.
The evi Lord Valsartan, striking from his fortress at Mutagenesis with an army of fierce Hemoglobins, has threatened to engulf the world in darkness. Stopping Valsartan's evil schemes and banishing his soul to the Planes of Neutropenia is a job left up to Princess Anuria, Bearer of the Soothing Cup of Lithium, and her fearless companions: the devoted dwarf Albumin, High Elven Rangers Elanapril and Lisinopril and their deadly Arrows of Hepatic Insufficiency, and dashing human rogue and ranger Diovan, wielder of the Great Sword Hyperkalemia (and is it possible he's really the long-lost heir of the throne of Oliguria in diguise? He'd better hope so; it's his only hope of winning the hand of the fair Anuria and preventing her from being forced to wed the oily Prince Brady Cardia!), and smallest but not least, the brave hobbit Frank Gout. Join our heroes as they journey to the heart of Mutagenesis itself to perform the sacred Rite of Homeostasis to defeat evil once and for all... or at least until Book Two.
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The evi Lord Valsartan, striking from his fortress at Mutagenesis with an army of fierce Hemoglobins, has threatened to engulf the world in darkness. Stopping Valsartan's evil schemes and banishing his soul to the Planes of Neutropenia is a job left up to Princess Anuria, Bearer of the Soothing Cup of Lithium, and her fearless companions: the devoted dwarf Albumin, High Elven Rangers Elanapril and Lisinopril and their deadly Arrows of Hepatic Insufficiency, and dashing human rogue and ranger Diovan, wielder of the Great Sword Hyperkalemia (and is it possible he's really the long-lost heir of the throne of Oliguria in diguise? He'd better hope so; it's his only hope of winning the hand of the fair Anuria and preventing her from being forced to wed the oily Prince Brady Cardia!), and smallest but not least, the brave hobbit Frank Gout. Join our heroes as they journey to the heart of Mutagenesis itself to perform the sacred Rite of Homeostasis to defeat evil once and for all... or at least until Book Two.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Value added!
Posted a couple of new links.
Victor Davis Hanson is a classicist and military historian. His writings are among my favorites, and he sees a great many things with great clarity, and writes about them far better than I ever could.
La Shawn Barber is one of my new favorites. Christian, conservative, sharp as a samurai sword... she's the anti-Cynthia McKinney.
Ace of Spades has some offensive language. That is, if you find seeing liberals blasted to steaming shreds by some of the funniest writers in the blogosphere offensive. Check out the archive stuff in their sidebar; their D&D classification of the Democratic presidential candidates, though dated now, is drop-dead funny to an old RPG geek like me, and worth the click to read.
Scrappleface is news satire from a conservative viewpoint, like Broken Newz. It was Scrappleface who broke the story of GWB's utter failure to do anything about al-Qaeda during the Clinton years.
The Internet Monk is a Baptist minister whose theology, as far as I can tell, leans heavily toward New Covenant. There is a large archive of essays about topics of interest to Christians: everything from living with doubts about the truth of our faith, to the weirdness of the charismatics, to why contemporary Christian music is so ear-bleedingly bad.
These are all frequent stops on my tours of the Web. Enjoy.
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Victor Davis Hanson is a classicist and military historian. His writings are among my favorites, and he sees a great many things with great clarity, and writes about them far better than I ever could.
La Shawn Barber is one of my new favorites. Christian, conservative, sharp as a samurai sword... she's the anti-Cynthia McKinney.
Ace of Spades has some offensive language. That is, if you find seeing liberals blasted to steaming shreds by some of the funniest writers in the blogosphere offensive. Check out the archive stuff in their sidebar; their D&D classification of the Democratic presidential candidates, though dated now, is drop-dead funny to an old RPG geek like me, and worth the click to read.
Scrappleface is news satire from a conservative viewpoint, like Broken Newz. It was Scrappleface who broke the story of GWB's utter failure to do anything about al-Qaeda during the Clinton years.
The Internet Monk is a Baptist minister whose theology, as far as I can tell, leans heavily toward New Covenant. There is a large archive of essays about topics of interest to Christians: everything from living with doubts about the truth of our faith, to the weirdness of the charismatics, to why contemporary Christian music is so ear-bleedingly bad.
These are all frequent stops on my tours of the Web. Enjoy.
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
The pain, the pain (yawn)
I am typing this one-handed as my left hand is now in a brace. The ER doc (didn't look a thing like Goran Vijnic or Noah Wyle, though the radiology tech bore a very passing resemblance to Sherry Stringfield) says I have signs of degenerative bone disease, but didn't seem particularly freaked out by that. He reassured me it wasn't going to kill me or anything... and honestly, this isn't the first time this has happened.
Now I'm just wondering if 25mg a day of Vioxx is truly any better than 1.5 grams per day of Naproxen.
The upshot, of course, is that I'll not be posting here as often as I'd like, at least not for the next coupla days, as I basically just stay away from computer keyboards (a contributing factor). This is not good, as I finally got the first chapter of my current novel into shouting distance of a final draft -- all 18,000 words of it -- over the weekend and was quite looking forward to writing chapter 2, which is where the combat begins in earnest. All put on hold now, probably till the weekend, at least.
There's a lot going on in the world and I hate to be deprived of the opportunity to rant about it, but as the French say, that's life.
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Now I'm just wondering if 25mg a day of Vioxx is truly any better than 1.5 grams per day of Naproxen.
The upshot, of course, is that I'll not be posting here as often as I'd like, at least not for the next coupla days, as I basically just stay away from computer keyboards (a contributing factor). This is not good, as I finally got the first chapter of my current novel into shouting distance of a final draft -- all 18,000 words of it -- over the weekend and was quite looking forward to writing chapter 2, which is where the combat begins in earnest. All put on hold now, probably till the weekend, at least.
There's a lot going on in the world and I hate to be deprived of the opportunity to rant about it, but as the French say, that's life.
Monday, April 12, 2004
Ouch
back from vacation. left wrist hurts as if broken. much pain medication ingested. need to ingest more. afraid to.
it's probably richard ben-veniste's fault, that feeble-minded long-winded hypocritical twit.
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it's probably richard ben-veniste's fault, that feeble-minded long-winded hypocritical twit.
Saturday, April 03, 2004
On the Road Again
Leave it to me to start a blog the day before I go on vacation and don't have access to a computer for nine days.
I'm in Kingsport, TN at the moment, visiting an aunt and a grandfather and posting from a family member's computer. Thanks to Wayne and Karen for allowing me the use of it.
Driving through Knoxville again yesterday evening, I was impressed, as always, by how long that city is. No small southern city has any business being thirty miles long.
Construction has been on-going on the stretch of I-40 that runs through Knoxville since I can remember. My earliest memories of passing through there date back to the late 70's and up to about 1981, when the city was preparing to host the World's Fair, and all I remember is orange cones, barrels, and heavy equipment. Every time I've been through since -- with the possible exception of a one-day visit in the spring of 1988 -- that road has been in the process of being built.
You'd think they'd have finished it by now. You'd think wrong.
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Leave it to me to start a blog the day before I go on vacation and don't have access to a computer for nine days.
I'm in Kingsport, TN at the moment, visiting an aunt and a grandfather and posting from a family member's computer. Thanks to Wayne and Karen for allowing me the use of it.
Driving through Knoxville again yesterday evening, I was impressed, as always, by how long that city is. No small southern city has any business being thirty miles long.
Construction has been on-going on the stretch of I-40 that runs through Knoxville since I can remember. My earliest memories of passing through there date back to the late 70's and up to about 1981, when the city was preparing to host the World's Fair, and all I remember is orange cones, barrels, and heavy equipment. Every time I've been through since -- with the possible exception of a one-day visit in the spring of 1988 -- that road has been in the process of being built.
You'd think they'd have finished it by now. You'd think wrong.
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Now with Character Quiz results...
... at Kim Le's request.
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... at Kim Le's request.
The Bob Edwards Situation
NPR plans to replace Bob Edwards as host of Morning Edition. The reasons given seem to indicate they want someone younger and trendier. This has drawn the ire of Linda Ellerbee. Right now, Sen. Dick Durbin of Illinois is on the floor of the Senate calling for e-mails to be sent to NPR to urge them to keep Edwards.
The only reason I listen to Morning Edition in the morning is that I can't listen to it at night. It's the show I have set as my alarm clock. And Bob Edwards' voice is part of my experience; I can identify it readily, even half-conscious at 6:00 am. I've been hearing it for over twenty years now.
It won't be the same without him.
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NPR plans to replace Bob Edwards as host of Morning Edition. The reasons given seem to indicate they want someone younger and trendier. This has drawn the ire of Linda Ellerbee. Right now, Sen. Dick Durbin of Illinois is on the floor of the Senate calling for e-mails to be sent to NPR to urge them to keep Edwards.
The only reason I listen to Morning Edition in the morning is that I can't listen to it at night. It's the show I have set as my alarm clock. And Bob Edwards' voice is part of my experience; I can identify it readily, even half-conscious at 6:00 am. I've been hearing it for over twenty years now.
It won't be the same without him.
It wasn't done consciously...
... but today is April 1st. April Fool's Day.
I started my blog on April Fool's Day.
I don't know if this has any deeper significance, but I'm uncomfortably sure it does.
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... but today is April 1st. April Fool's Day.
I started my blog on April Fool's Day.
I don't know if this has any deeper significance, but I'm uncomfortably sure it does.
It is done.
Hello, I'm Stephen Tilson. You may recognize me from Usenet's rec.arts.sf.starwars.misc, where I play a guy named Steve Tilson. You may also know me from that group's sinister cabal of snobby elitists, @rassm. Or you may know me because you're family. Or you may not know me. (You'd be in gloried company, there.)
Not content with mailing lists, Usenet, and various other fora in which I inflict my unsolicited views upon unsuspecting readers, I have relented, I have succumbed, I have collapsed in the face of the ultimate temptation:
I have started my own blog.
I once swore I'd never do this. Blogging was for people who think too highly of themselves. Blogging was for people who don't care if they disrupt the communities they're part of by removing themselves from the flow of commentary (@rassm knows what I'm talking about, eh wot?). Blogging was for trendy urbanites with dot-com jobs and delusions of adequacy who take their double mocha lattes with freshly-ground cinammon and wouldn't be able to change a tire if the lives of a busload of physically-challenged schoolchildren depended on it. Blogging just wasn't manly, wasn't a worthwhile use of mental or physical resources, wasn't something a boy from the hills of southwest Virginia does.
But when everybody does something, it's only a matter of time before even the most stalwart change their ways. Honestly: if everyone around you were smoking crack, don't you think you'd be the tiniest bit inclined to light up a pipe yourself?
And believe me, it seemed that EVERYONE around me was doing this. You can't click through five pages on the Internet without seeing some reference to someone's blog. Clicking on the blog invariably leads you to a series of links to other blogs, which link to more blogs, which link to more blogs. Good blogs, bad blogs, indifferent blogs. Blogs by people who know what they're doing, and by people who just fired up their first computer three days ago. Blogs about any subject, and no subject at all.
This blog falls into the latter category. If all goes as planned, I will be posting (barring the vagaries of inconsistent access to the Internet) on subjects of interest to me, which run the usual gamut: politics, culture (including but not limited to books, TV, movies, music, and computer games), work (I'm a teacher), religion (I'm a born-again fundamentalist five-point Calvinist Baptist with New Covenant leanings, but I do not thump the Bible; it is disrespectful), and anything else I might find amusing.
Also, I'm just now learning the mechanics of all this, so forgive me if the links over there say "Edit me" (or nothing) for a while, or if the whole place whiffs of that new-house smell of dry-wall putty and fresh paint. It will change and evolve over time.
Friends and family are welcome. So is anyone else.
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Hello, I'm Stephen Tilson. You may recognize me from Usenet's rec.arts.sf.starwars.misc, where I play a guy named Steve Tilson. You may also know me from that group's sinister cabal of snobby elitists, @rassm. Or you may know me because you're family. Or you may not know me. (You'd be in gloried company, there.)
Not content with mailing lists, Usenet, and various other fora in which I inflict my unsolicited views upon unsuspecting readers, I have relented, I have succumbed, I have collapsed in the face of the ultimate temptation:
I have started my own blog.
I once swore I'd never do this. Blogging was for people who think too highly of themselves. Blogging was for people who don't care if they disrupt the communities they're part of by removing themselves from the flow of commentary (@rassm knows what I'm talking about, eh wot?). Blogging was for trendy urbanites with dot-com jobs and delusions of adequacy who take their double mocha lattes with freshly-ground cinammon and wouldn't be able to change a tire if the lives of a busload of physically-challenged schoolchildren depended on it. Blogging just wasn't manly, wasn't a worthwhile use of mental or physical resources, wasn't something a boy from the hills of southwest Virginia does.
But when everybody does something, it's only a matter of time before even the most stalwart change their ways. Honestly: if everyone around you were smoking crack, don't you think you'd be the tiniest bit inclined to light up a pipe yourself?
And believe me, it seemed that EVERYONE around me was doing this. You can't click through five pages on the Internet without seeing some reference to someone's blog. Clicking on the blog invariably leads you to a series of links to other blogs, which link to more blogs, which link to more blogs. Good blogs, bad blogs, indifferent blogs. Blogs by people who know what they're doing, and by people who just fired up their first computer three days ago. Blogs about any subject, and no subject at all.
This blog falls into the latter category. If all goes as planned, I will be posting (barring the vagaries of inconsistent access to the Internet) on subjects of interest to me, which run the usual gamut: politics, culture (including but not limited to books, TV, movies, music, and computer games), work (I'm a teacher), religion (I'm a born-again fundamentalist five-point Calvinist Baptist with New Covenant leanings, but I do not thump the Bible; it is disrespectful), and anything else I might find amusing.
Also, I'm just now learning the mechanics of all this, so forgive me if the links over there say "Edit me" (or nothing) for a while, or if the whole place whiffs of that new-house smell of dry-wall putty and fresh paint. It will change and evolve over time.
Friends and family are welcome. So is anyone else.
