In Which We Talk About...

Well, actually we are going to talk about most everything. So, this post is a collection of thoughts I have been having, arranged in no particular order.

First, if you game (and I apologize to any of my readers who do not game. There will be several of these random thoughts related to my hobby of role-playing. However, if you stick to it, there are a couple of neat bits about the Pearl of Great Price). Anyway, if you game, I strongly suggest that you subscribe to Steve Jackson Games' online gaming magazine Pyramid. But, I hear you say, I do not play GURPS. It is of no matter. Although there a a significant portion of GURPS articles, there are a number that are not, including Steven Marsh's weekly column Random Thought Table, which is consistently one of the best pieces on role-playing, both in terms of theory and practice. He writes this column once a week, a subscription gives you access to all the archives of the magazine, which is worth the price alone. I am constantly finding new and interesting things to read (like a review of Magic: the Gathering, written shortly after it was released). All of this costs a mere $25 a year (which is only 12.50 pounds sterling--even more of a bargain). Seriously, I don't like to be a shill for a company, but I enjoy this every single week, and so I thought I'd pass that along.

Second, my wife were just talking about a book I got out of the Library for my paper on the Jews in Alexandria during the Ptolomaic and Early Roman period, which is a slim volume from Brill. I personally think that it is over-written and will not be including anything in it (his essential thesis is that Hellenistic erotic thought was changing catalyst between Biblical and Rabbinic literature), but that is irrelevant to my point. My wife, having heard of the reputation of Brill wanted to know how much the book cost. For those of my readers who don't know about Brill, Brill is an academic publisher based in the Netherlands famous for their extremely expensive books. This book is a case in point--for a 177 page book (which includes the indices) you will be charged $189.00. That is more than a dollar a page. Trust me, the book isn't worth it. Ah, the joys of academic books. Brill is the worst offender, but even the press of that great university for whom I work sets a pretty steep price on their books, and that is even with my 10% discount. Sometimes it is hard to be a young poor scholar.

Third, I have been an extremely busy man. Part of this is derived from my job, part of this derives from the fact that my wife has entered what is known officially as the Lame part of pregnancy, where everything is difficult to do. At least part of it comes from the fact that I am in in the part of the term, where I am taken up wholly by the writing of papers. I feel guilty even at this point writing this 'blog post, since I could be writing about persecution of Jews by the Christian Roman emperors. Me and my exciting Friday nights. Also, Lydia was sick yesterday, and I was the go-to man on that as well (a job which incidentally I am happy to fill. This paragraph should not be interpreted as a complaint). Nevertheless, I feel pretty tired, lately. Of course, it isn't going to get any easier, and I will be able with the good-will of the Father, be able to accomplish all I need to. Still this has been on my mind.

Fourth, In the unlikely event I join the SCA (my ambivalence to them is legendary in my friend's circle. I can find no end of reasons not to join them, but I can't seem to leave them alone), I found my handicraft. You see, to really get involved in the SCA, you really ought to do something: play an instrument, fight, make medieval widgets, whatever. This is actual one of my many sticking points. However, I found a medieval craft that I would love to get into: stonemasonry. It has connections with Freemasonry, the Church and is a fully medieval. What isn't to like? Unfortunately, stonemasonry really means stonecarving, i.e. the artistic carving of stone, since no matter how difficult it is, the other parts of being a stonemason, aren't especially flashy. I mean come on, imagine going to an Arts and Sciences fair, with your dressed ashlar. The king comes by and asks you what you have. You say, full of excitement, a square block. The king nods, and walks off, leaving you to shout that it is square on all sides, and was done using only a square, a straight edge, a chisel and the wonders of Euclidean geometry! Yeah, not so much. Anyway, this all so much speculation, since among other things, the cost to get involved in any kind of stonemasonry is prohibitive (also I have the artistic skills of a rabbit).

Fifth, I was reading 2001 as a tribute to the late Arthur C. Clarke (I had seen the movie but had never actually read it before, and so thought reading it was a fit tribute to an author of his stature.) Besides, I really dig science fiction, unlike my wife, who's almost exclusively a fabulist. It made me think about what Brother Nibley once said, about Science Fiction being folk scripture. It certainly was in this case, since at least on one level replacing an all-powerful transcendent God with all-powerful transcendent aliens, you haven't actually changed anything. Clarke's Progenitors and Milton's God aren't that far removed from each other (in purely literary terms). And so that was one of the most interesting things about the book. Now, I don't remember if the movie was so specifically religious; the book wasn't religious necessarily, I guess. But I mean, come on, the book ends with a child coming from Heaven to save the Earth. Anyway, it's just some musings. It's funny because although the approach is different between a Religionist and a Rationalist, sometimes, at least in Science Fiction, the goals seem to be the same. But of course Clarke knew this, he is after all the man who gave us Clarke's Law (any science sufficiently advanced is indistinguishable from magic).

Sixth, I was intrigued by Travis' post on the perfect role-playing game, mostly because I'm not sure what he meant by perfect. He seemed to have in mind (and he can correct me if I'm wrong, of course) some kind of universal role-playing game, which would not necessarily be the perfect role-playing game. For one thing, in my immediate circle (and I'm not saying in general) I have the most experience with the most popular universal role-playing game, which is to say GURPS, which is certainly not rules light. Part of the issue, I think, how shall I put this, I don't think it's possible, or even necessarily desirable to produce a system that can handle every situation. Now, I'm not discounting Travis' project; it's sounds like a lot of fun. But as an example, it is next to impossible to do, say Star Wars in GURPS, because you can't get the feel right; the system doesn't reflect the world. Let me rephrase that. You can run Star Wars in GURPS, but GURPS does nothing to reinforce the Star Wars feel, and I think that there should be a closer connection between system and world. In Castle Falkenstein, for example, the use of playing cards instead of dice serves as a constant reinforcement of the Victorian milieu of the game. Now I think the real challenge would be (and I'm going to see if we can do this in Travis' project) to see if we can represent system and world together through some kind of modular process. Spycraft 2.0 did something very much like this. We'll see; it'll be fun.

Seventh, I'm reading a very nice book by Gary A. Anderson, who's at Notre Dame by the way, called The Genesis of Perfection. It's about how Jews and Christians have viewed the story of Adam and Eve throughout their respective histories. I'm only in the very beginning, and I'm already very impressed with it. As always when read this sort of book, I think about the Latter-day aspects of it, ie how the Latter-day Saints view Adam and Eve, both through the revealed scriptures as well as through talks and general interpretations. Actually, I was think of writing, for my own benefit mostly, an article called "The Perfection of Genesis: Adam and Eve in the JST and Mormon Scriptures," which would be a response to his book (which is why it would be just for me). One of the things I love about studying Jewish and Christian interpretation is studying how that relates to uniquely Latter-day Saint interpretations. Actually, as I was walking home from work today, I ran into a friend from The Queen's College, who was doing his dissertation on Lamech and various interpretations of him. He knew I was Mormon, and had come across, or found out somehow that Lamech is mentioned in the Pearl of Great Price, and wanted me to help him secure a copy, which I was more than happy to do, naturally. It makes me happy, because it's always nice when someone outside of our faith takes an interest in our take on things. Because the JST and other sources, of course, provide us with a unique and varied perspective on Adam and Eve.

Those are just some thoughts that I've been having. I apologize for the length of this post, but I appreciate you bearing with me and reading it. As always, any comments are welcome. There are a few of these points I had thought to turn into full posts, and I still might, but for now I'll close, and spare you all.

Excelsior!

A Confirmed Francophile

So, we went to France. See, my mother-in-law went on her mission to Northern France, and since Thora's parents were visiting their grand-daughter here in the UK, they thought to pop over the Channel to visit her old haunts. I suggested, since we were going through all that trouble to visit the French Republic, we should visit one of the greatest cities in the world (which is to say Paris).

You see, I am, as most of my friends know a Francophile (and a Bonapartist to boot). I have spent my life defending the French language, French people and, most especially, the French military establishment. I have defended them from people who claimed that the Scots hate the French (clearly being unaware the Scottish alliance with the French is what kept Scotland independent for so long). I have defended them from people who claim that the real French flag is white, and against all of the usual slurs against the French people. I have never understood it, but I think it derives from the fact the French government has often disagreed with the policies of the American government. More like though, people are just ignorant. Anyway, suffice it to say that I have long been a lover of the French. I have studied the language, on my own for the most part (since my Hebrew studies didn't leave me much extra time). So, I jumped on the chance to visit France.

It was a splendid experience. I have often heard that the French are arrogant and off-putting of foreigners and especially Americans. I do not believe a word of it. I found the French to be pleasant and friendly, totally lacking the British reserve. The British are unfailingly polite, but not always very open. We had experiences where we were lost in Lille, and a woman took us into her own home, in order that Thora's mother could call her friends. She offered Lydia chocolate and was in general very friendly. I tried to speak French, with a fair amount of success. Nobody commented on my French, and indeed went out of their way to draw me in to conversation. I often had to say to Je ne comprends pas, but all in all we were able to communicate very nicely. In fact, my French got such a workout that I feel that my skills at speaking French have been upgraded from en petit peu (a very little bit) to en peu (a little bit), which is great progress.

In Paris we visited many wonderful things including the Louvre, which was as wonderful as I expected. Of course, of great importance to me was Les Invalides, and especially the Tomb of Napoleon the First, Emperor of the French and King of Italy. As I said before, I am, and long have been, a Bonapartist, for reasons which are difficult for me to articulate. One of the nicest things about visiting France was realizing that I was no longer the only one in a hundred mile radius who thought positive things about Bonaparte. It was an empowering experience (empowerment is a dangerous word, I know, but it was pretty cool all the same).

The other important thing I wish to mention is the visits to the French cathedrals of Notre Dame and Saint Denis, both of which were wonderful and beautiful. It reminded me of my love of the Middle Ages and of the Masons who built these churches. Saint Denis is the resting place of the kings of France, and is a holy place. It was a fascinating place to visit, since it was a monument to monarchy in France, a monarchy which did not end prettily in France, but it was still holy. Charles Martel, Pepin the Short, Louis XIV, and XV are all buried there, as well as Louis XVI and what is left of Louis XVII. Regrettably, Thora wasn't able to be there with me, because Lydia wasn't feeling well, but it was still a wonderful experience.

The trip was all in all wonderful. There were a number of stories which I would share, but which I will leave to Thora, such as being ten feet from the President of the French Republic and the various woes of travel. For myself it suffices me to say that I entered France a Francophile and left it further confirmed in my Francophile-ness. I will continue to defend France with a renewed vigor and from my own experiences. In short-- Vive la France!

I am back online. For those of you who do not read my wife's posts, I received a fine fellowship from The Ohio State University, and so will be studying there. My wife and I are very happy. Thank for everyone's prayers. I should be able back to writing soon. For one thing I have to write that post about my ambivalence towards the SCA, among other things. However, that will have to wait until next time.

Excelsior!

At The Bottom of the Barrel

So, I just heard back from Yale University. No dice.

Which leaves me very humbled. Three months ago, I was certain of my ability to do graduate work. I applied to six graduate programs, including some of the top programs in my field, confidant in my ability to be chosen as one of their candidates. I had a Masters degree from Oxford, good recommendations, a decent statement of purpose, and I was applying to schools where I thought I had a good fit with the faculty.

Now I am not sure why I was so confident. I only got into the two schools I considered my safety schools, and was denied funding at one of them, which hurts more than a reject, in some ways. Perhaps I chose the wrong road. I don't know what else I could have done, though. It goes without saying that you are never as good as you think you are, but it still hurts to be told it.

Ah well. All my hopes rely on one school, essentially.

Pray for me.

A Tribute

So, I woke up this morning and went to my usual websites. When I visited the Daily Illuminator at Steve Jackson Games' website, I was saddened to discover that E. Gary Gygax, one of the initial designers of the first role-playing game, Dungeons and Dragons, had died. I felt moved to say a few words in his honor.

I don't know why I am so affected by his death. I don't think I've read anything he has written. I only rarely play Dungeons and Dragons, and have never played any edition he authored.

However, he and Dave Arneson designed this game, and so spawned the hobby of adventure game, specifically of role-playing. Without Gary Gygax, as other writers on other sites have pointed out, there would be no role-playing, up to and including games such as World of Warcraft and its ilk. I don't do much online role-playing, but I do play pen and paper games, and without Dungeons and Dragons I would not be able to.

So, I felt that it was only right and proper that I set down a tribute to the man who, however indirectly, brought me Rokugan, Theah and Mythic Europe. I owe my acquaintance to Bubba Hall, Aleksander Veiltender and Mirumoto Takoni to the doors he opened. Time spent with my friends, time spent with my books, time spent in my imagination.

So I raise a parting glass to a man I never knew to thank him for the many hours of enjoyment and reflection which he has given me. I wish him Godspeed on his journey, and the hope of a glorious resurrection.

Game On!

Thoughts on Schools

It has been many weeks since I last wrote, as I am sure you are aware. I was doing so well at posting at regular intervals too, but alas, 'twas not to be (incidentally my Hebrew teacher here at Yarnton says 'twas and 'tis in regular conversation. It is not for him, as for me, an affection, and so all the cooler). I started a post several weeks ago, but was forced to leave, and I rarely finish a post if I am forced to leave it while writing. It is likely a weakness of mine, but one which I feel no especial desire to overcome. My lack of posting in the last few weeks has largely been because I have been busy with school and work and because my wife has of late often been on the Internet, checking up with schools and haunting the forums at the Chronicle of Higher Education in an attempt to get a better feel for what the world is like for Graduate Students. My wife dislikes having her future up in the air, so in order to counteract feelings of having no control of her future, she will spend time on the Internet learning as much as she can about all possible futures.

I have been myself thinking about Graduate School, of course, although I lack my wife's free time to spend on the topic, since, when coupled with my new job--which isn't very difficult, but which takes place during prime library study hours--my course load is much more advanced than it was last term. Add to that the fact that I have been sick for about two weeks (a disease which I am still recovering from), and it all adds up to my being very busy. However, I have been thinking about the two acceptances I have received, although neither of them are formal offers yet (a fact which drives my wife crazy, since there is no word about money--it turns out my wife is obsessed about money. Seriously, her theme song for the past two weeks has been "Money" by the Beatles). I know where I am leaning, but of course financial aid packages will play a huge part of the decision making process in my family. As Sam Spade said in the film version of The Maltese Falcon when discussing his pay before turning the girl in, "But a lot of money would have been at least one more item on your side of the scales." It may be that one school or the other has the better program. But in the end, we'll probably end up at the place that provides the best funding package. Crass of me? Perhaps. But as Twain once observed, I have found that ideals have little meaning on an empty stomach. Probably overstated, but the meaning is clear enough.

When I sat down to write this post, I had no clear idea about which to write. I had vague ideas of discussing some interesting rhetorical devices in the Psalms, but rejected those, largely because they need a knowledge of Hebrew, or at least the ability to look at the Hebrew. I thought about throwing out some ideas I have had for Book of Mormon papers, or even discussing my opinions on education and how it ought to go. I have a number of ideas, independent of home-schooling or not, which I think would greatly aid how children are taught, but which are somewhat controversial. I try to avoid controversy as much as possible, at least in this forum where it is so easy to offend, and so I have refrained. I also thought about posting about some ideas which I have had in regards to my fantasy fiction writing or to my role-playing, such as a list of my favorite role-playing characters, but regarded that as not being of general interest. And so, here you are, with a post on a few thoughts about getting into graduate school. Even that is cautious, because I do not wish to commit myself to one program or another at this early date. Perhaps, when I have chosen my school, I will post a joyful statement about how great it is that I am going to this program and working with that professor. Perhaps. But for now, I regret you must be content with this only.

Excelsior.

Response

One school is down. We found out today that Avram wasn't accepted to Duke. Not entirely unexpected, as they only have a four percent admittance rate in the Religion program. Last year our first response was an acceptance, and although I highly prefer that, I do still hope that there will be more positive news later.

A Confession

It is time for me to make a confession. It is a difficult confession, and one I have articulated to a few of my friends, but I feel it ought to be made. I have for most of my life kept it even from myself. This confession is prompted by my wife's post on her curriculum, with its primary emphasis on literature. As I make this confession, it is with the deepest apologies to my many friends and relations to whom this may come as a shock.

I don't like literature, or at least what some people call literature. There I said it. Mark Twain once defined classics as books “everybody wants to have read, but nobody wants to read.” That is how I feel about a lot of literature. There are few things that bother me more than a book that seems to be more concerned with making its point than telling a good story. If I wanted to read philosophy, I would (of course, closely related to this confession is the confession that I don't usually 'get' philosophy either). A good example of this is Wild Duck. There were some few good parts in it, but eventually they were lost in whatever weird point Ibsen was trying to make. It is funny, I feel as though by admitting these things, I am admitting to some sort character deficiency. It is sort of like saying that one prefers hamburgers to fine cuisine (which is probably true of me as well, so there you go). I feel as though I am somehow admitting that my tastes are not refined, and for a man who has spent most of his life attempting to refine his taste, and assume that he lived and thought at a certain imaginary level, this comes a powerful blow. So, dear reader, I think that perhaps this post is mostly written for my own benefit, with you taken along for the ride. I suppose that is the price you pay when you read something as idiosyncratic as a 'blog.

I love reading, both fiction and non-fiction, and indeed, reading is my chief hobby and one of the greatest joys in my life. However, I am afraid I am somewhat crass in my tastes. My wife will often tell me how much she loves to read classics, and she really does. She will often pick up a classic book (however such a thing is defined—in my field classics usually means something written in Greek or Latin) and read it. Now I enjoy many books that can be termed classics. I love Shakespeare. I have enjoyed Pride and Prejudice, and other books from that genre. I thought that Don Quixote was one of the best books I had read in a long while. However, I sometimes feel that when I like a classic book it is usually in spite of its classic status, not because of it. La Morte d'Artur by Sir Thomas Mallory may indeed be a classic, but it has knights, and chivalry and courtesy, and many wonderful beauties. Homer's Illiad is classic in any sense of the word, but I love it because it full of heroism and gods and fights, because it fires my blood. It almost makes me want to be a classicist (I wonder how many classicists were made by Homer. Probably innumerable). Basically, when I read a classic, I am reading a story, not literature, even if the book has literary merits. My point here is that for the most part the 'classics' I have enjoyed have not appealed to my intellectual snobbery (which unfortunately is there—ask me about television archaeology some time), but to the little boy who still lives inside me.

Perhaps that is it. Reading was my chief activity when I was a younger man. Maybe I grew up in everything else, but in this thing I have not yet grown up. Twain once compared the great books to wine and his to water. It turns out I prefer water to wine. This isn't really a bad thing. It just tends to limit what books I choose to read, and makes me feel guilty about the books I am not reading. So, to my dear friends who majored in literature (a frightening portion of my readers), I am sorry. I hope you understand. I certainly try to when people I know say they don't like the Old Testament. Maybe someday I will fully grow up, and find that I like Ibsen or Hunger, or other books of their ilk. But in the mean time, I am afraid I will continue to read for the little boy inside of me.

Excelsior!