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Well, I didn't have a chance to go with the very good suggestions of either Travis or Mike, but since today (or rather, now, yesterday — the 24th) is my birthday, I thought I should put up the first post of “the new year.” Perhaps tomorrow I shall see if I can do one of those suggestions…
September 19, 2005 was a day that fits the context of my poem I posted last week. A day of the tragedy of ordinary fate. Nothing that seems especially terrible happened that day in the light of what goes on in the world, and yet what did never left me either. That's pretty much how I expected it to be when I wrote my entry two years ago. It was a capstone on a year journey that included the day covered in my little Nameless series (part I, part II) and miscellaneous other posts along the way.
So what shall I say today? Well, the day is now past. On to another year to see what will happen with this day's memory. Perhaps by next year it shall be a little fainter.
Hat tip to Mark, as usual.
How do you sleep? Left side, right side, back or stomach.
Varies. Usually slightly on my side, mostly on my stomach.
How do you brush? Toothbrush, electric, tree bark, etc.
Only the freshest tree bark. Good stuff that tree bark.
Ahem. I have a regular and an electric toothbrush. I prefer the regular, though.
How do you do your hair? Air dry, blow dry, Head out of car on highway, style, no style.
Towel dry a bit, then air dry. I only stick my head out of the car to see if I can understand what it is that dogs enjoy so much about that experience. So far I have only been confirmed in my position of the superior nature of cats.
How do you wake yourself in the morning?
An alarm clock, when necessary.
What is the first thing that you do when you awake?
Preferably get a cup of coffee and read the Post-Dispatch.
What do you sleep on? Waterbed, spring, foam, floor, outside, etc etc.
A spring mattress with foam pillow top.
Note: The questions on this page written by Mark are governed by the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 2.5 license. I believe my responses are allowed under fair use and therefore are not licensed under the Creative Commons license (I don't want people messing with adapting my personal opinions, thank you very much).
Well, I went to the Muny last night, and saw Joseph. It was spectacular. And if you haven't yet seen it, you should go get a ticket, or get there early and enjoy one of the free seats up on top. Though the sets were more subdued then the Fox Theatre's performance a few years back (with the Fox's broadway tour-ready stage), the Muny's talent actually outshone the Fox's performance, I thought.
What a show!
I've been spending the last week in partial sabbatical from the Internet as other things consumed my time. I'll be back to normal posting soon.
Dr. Lucas posted his results on the “Which Theologian Are You?” quiz, which prompted me to take the quiz again. I've taken this quiz two other times that I could find in my blog archive (I thought I had taken it even more). At any rate, there is some variation — beyond the basic result that I am always Barthian first. Happily, my second favorite theological saint, Anselm traded higher, returning to a second place position behind Barth (if Aquinas, my if-I-were-a-Catholic-he'd-be-my-patron-saint, where in the survey, he'd probably score high on my graph too). Oddly, while Calvin traded high in February, perhaps rallying from influence of Covenant, he fell to a new low this month. Barth rallied from a dip, to return to his previous high of 100%. Luther isn't terribly interesting — he stays pretty stable. Unfortunately, Tillich rose again from the depths of 0% and is now busy making my theology more ambiguous again: my theology is not, but rather is; it is not an existential thing, but rather an existential question; it is the ground of theology, creating a strict sense of complete dependence on theologians, particularly those that focus on kerygma rather than apologia. cough
Below are some charts for the statistically inclined. Post your own results in the comments (or a link to your own results on your blog).
 | You scored as Karl Barth, The daddy of 20th Century theology. You perceive liberal theology to be a disaster and so you insist that the revelation of Christ, not human experience, should be the starting point for all theology.
Which theologian are you? created with QuizFarm.com |
I've been debating whether to just ignore my last post or write something about it. My style on this blog is generally not terribly personal. There were two things bugging me over the last week, one of which I'll completely ignore at present and the other is a bit more personal than I usually write about — love (of the romantic sort) — but if you'll bear with me, I'm going to muse on it a bit in this post before I return to my normal posting schedule. I am going to go at it somewhat abstractly, just because that seems more comfortable in this medium. I did broach the topic a few weeks ago when Mark's meme inquired about a “significant other.” As I noted then, there is someone I wish had that status to me, but I, in my very Prufrockian style, have failed to act on what I think. Whether that's for good or ill, I'm not sure. The problem was when, last week, I believed I had allowed my inaction to linger too long and I was too late to say something to her, even if I wished. I think I was wrong about that now, but it was a little too close for comfort for me.
Inaction may be too strong a word. Over subtlety may be better. I am doing more than nothing at all, but little enough that she could very well believe, if she read this post (and, as I said before, I think she is a reader of this blog), that I am here writing concerning an entirely different person. Subtly is my art and my enemy. My affinity with Kierkegaard, as well as Dostoevesky's Underground Man, Eliot's Prufrock and Shakespeare's Hamlet largely draws from this. Reading Fear and Trembling made me want to post on the subject even before last week, as I think it is clear that Kierkegaard is expressing not only (and perhaps not even primarily) his religious epistemology but also his theory on love. He is obsessed with metaphors relating to love and marriage in his book and I think it is hard to argue against tying that to the autobiographical fact that the book is in near proximity to the breakup with his fiancée. Off the top of my head, I can think of no less than four major metaphors used in the book that are based on love and marriage. Kierkegaard tried an extremely subtle approach of expressing love to his fiancée, paradoxically in the midst of his bold rejection of her, since we know from the perspective of history that he actually did love her. In a sense, I think Fear and Trembling can be read as a letter to her, explaining what was happening.
If I am sounding analytical and I suspect I am about to sound even more so, I think that is my attempt to sort out myself, I don't feel analytical, so I'm trying to make sense of this thing by at least trying to be. C.S. Lewis comments in Surprised by Joy that one cannot feel a feeling while simultaneously thinking about that feeling; perhaps that is why it seems comforting to write at this moment — it is a reprieve from a sense of despair concerning my own inaction.
So with that said, let's turn back to the thinking: it dawns on me (and this may not, and indeed, probably is not, a new thought) that the stage between falling in love and actually trying to reach out and express that truth to the beloved is a liminal stage, particularly in modern society, since the our modern arrangement hinges on the extremely difficult, risky procedure of revealing this to the beloved. The liminal stage is a stage in which a person is set off from society to allow a new relation to society to be formed. The process of falling in love itself perhaps is the initiation of the liminal stage to some extent, but I would suggest the real core (and perhaps rapid end) of the liminal stage is the revelation of love to the beloved.
First, it is often (usually?) a revelation of absurdity, to sound Kierkegaardian. If the beloved is actually the beloved, it seems likely that she must necessarily seem more worthy to the one who loves than he sees himself. Moreover, for the love to be more than mere emotion, it seems to me that there should be some basis of friendship between the two persons. This sets up the paradox and absurdity. The lover must believe that he is unworthy of the beloved — otherwise would the love truly value the beloved? unworthiness is probably universally true — and the revelation comes as a possible threat to something deemed extremely valuable: the friendship with the beloved. If the friendship is not valuable, then it cannot be love yet, it seems to me. Therefore, for the comfort of taking the unbearable burden of the so far unrequited love out into the open, and the potential for being able to be closer to the beloved, the one falling in love must essentially gamble the entire relationship with the beloved. This seems an absurdity since there is probably a greater chance of rejection (and hence potentially damaging or destroying the friendship) than there is of acceptance.
Hence comes the question: what does the wise man do? Does he bear in silence his feelings, creating a de facto state of unrequited love, but in doing so guarantee the preservation of his friendship with the beloved? Does he state his feelings to escape the terrible oppression of not admitting them and also accepting that while he may wish to not say anything to protect the friendship, she might ultimately feel obliged to end or reduce the friendship when she does find someone? How does the Kierkegaardian Knight of Faith respond to this challenge?
I think he would say something. Here's how I expect Kierkegaard would respond: To not say something is tragic; the one who loves becomes the tragic hero who falls on his own sword, a victim of his tragic flaw. This is highly aesthetic, perhaps, but it seems that it is more important to chase absurdity in faith than to spend time fashioning a tragic fate.
Hmm.
Update: I'm reading the the Daily Bible, and it just so happens that what I read just now, less than an hour after I posted above, is rather fitting: “Better is open rebuke / than hidden love” (Prov. 27:5 ESV).
Hmm.
Mark posted an interesting TQ meme on “first things,” so if you've been wondering about when I first did/saw/thought/whatever, read on and learn all there is to know about me (abridged)! Even better, respond with your own answers afterwards.
1. What was your first job ever?
That would probably be some programming work I did for a camera shop up in Seattle. I did work for them on and off for a couple of years. Just as now, however, I was a consultant, not an employee, so one could almost say I still have that job.
2. What was your first vehicle?
A Jeep Grand Cherokee. It served me well until I retired it last year when it was retired in favor of my little Bug.
3. What was the first day that you met your current significant other? (For those of you currently between relationships, pick a past one and tells us about it if you'd like)
Ah, I wish I could say, but that would mean I had previously had a significant other, and at the risk of perhaps sounding rather sad, I'm sorry to say I have not. So far, I've lived a good monk's life (but not Monk's life — fortunately!). I'll venture to say there is a story I'd like to tell here, but that would require me to say something to a certain person and I've not had the nerve as of yet. Notably, that person has read this blog occasionally — I wonder if she'd ever guess this was referring to her? I wonder if she'd think it good or bad if she did guess?
Well, that was a bit more answer than Mark was probably bargaining for.
4.What was your first major (you flew, drove more then 2-3hrs, etc etc) trip? Ok, the first one you can remember.
Ah, that would be a trip to Indiana, to see my grandparents and great grandmother. My great grandmother died in 1990, so it would have been sometime before that, but I'm not sure precisely when. That was a five hour or so trip and would be the only time I met my great grandmother on my dad's side.
5.What was the first website that you ever saw?
Prodigy.com, I guess. I was on Prodigy, and that would have been the first page to load when I tried out their web browser (pweb.exe). Nothing too grand there, I'm afraid to say. That would have been in 1994, I think. That browser fascinated me and led me to design my first web site by 1996 (my first site that was actually hosted online went live on August 26, 1996).
6. What was the first book you remember reading that you were proud to have read by yourself without any help?
You know, I'm not really sure. You'd think I'd remember that, but I can't really recall. I guess I wasn't very proud about it! I think the first time I can remember being really proud about a book was one of the Goosebumps books — I read the whole thing in one sitting and impressed myself that I could do that! I know there were other books prior to that, though. Hmm… I wish I could remember the direct answer to this question — what a sad Literature guy am I!
Note: The questions on this page written by Mark are governed by the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 2.5 license. I believe my responses are allowed under fair use and therefore are not licensed under the Creative Commons license (I don't want people messing with adapting my personal opinions, thank you very much).
Michael did this today, so I thought I would too.
Appetizer
List 3 emotions you experienced this week.
Joy, melancholy and loneliness.
Soup
Name a car you’d love to have.
Hmm, that's tough. I'm really very happy with my Volkswagen Bug. But, if I were going to select something different and more expensive than what I can afford, maybe a VW Eos — I love the combination of the hard top convertible with a moon roof, plus it has V-Dub's absolutely lovely 2.0T (turbocharged, that is) engine… as a rule, I don't speed, but I love how the 2.0T purrs along and begs for speed even more than my Bug's quite peppy 2.5L 5 cylinder. If I were to go for something with a different marquee, I'd probably go for an Audi A4 Quattro (ok, yes, I'm still in the Volkswagen family) or maybe a BMW 3-Series. The big thing would be that it would be a German car.
(More than likely, I'd go with another Volkswagen — they all have their charm. I wouldn't mind a New Beetle Cabriolet, Jetta 2.0T, Passat, Toureg, or — hey, if someone wanted to give such a beautiful and expensive car away — a Phaeton. I have sat in a Phaeton and it is, well, impressive. A nice VW TDI engine in any of those, so that I could enjoy the great fuel milage and lower average per gallon cost of a diesel, wouldn't be bad either.)
Salad
Describe your typical morning routine.
I don't have a completely typical routine because my schedule changes from day to day. I usually will try to get up early enough to read the paper for awhile before I head off. I am methodical about the paper: I start with the lightest section (e.g. I get my daily dose of Pearls Before Swine) , read through the business, then the front page, and then the op-ed's as the cherry on the sundae. Then I get ready, pray (I probably should do that earlier, but I find my concentration is better if I wake up first) and off I go.
Main Course
Have you ever emailed someone famous? If so, who, and what did you say to them? Did they reply?
Depends how you define famous. I have e-mailed editors of magazines and received replies. Nack in the heyday of the old OFB, I conversed fairly frequently with key figures of the Free/Open Source Software movement.
Dessert
Do you listen to podcasts? If so, which ones?
Nope, I sure don't. Call me old fashioned, call me an literature guy, but I prefer my RSS feeds to point to text. If I want radio, the legendary 50,000 watts of KMOX 1120 beckon. Although most of their programming is now podcasted for those interested…
Mark provides the following interesting TQ meme with eight interesting questions:
1. So, what are you currently reading?
Well, so far today, I've read some good excerpts from Karl Barth's Church Dogmatics for Church History class (go Barth!) and another set of excerpts from A. A. Hodge and John Murray for another class. I'm about to resume Getting the Bugs Out, an interesting history of Volkswagen by David Kiley. It focuses on the Volkswagen of America, it's marketing strategy and how it made a comeback after almost becoming irrelevant in the early 90's. It has a lot of nice insights into the New Beetle and a good history of the origins of the Beetle and Volkswagen from Porche's dream.
2. So, what are you currently listening too?
I just opened Jeremy Camp's Restored a few days ago. I've also been listening to Evanescence's the Open Door and Plumb's Beautiful Lumps of Coal.
3. So, what are you currently watching?
Nothing.
4. So, what are you doing for exercise?
Enjoying the nice weather by walking.
5. So, what are you surfing?
My usual blogs, news web sites, Facebook and Wikipedia (which I used to refresh myself on meta-narrative tonight).
6. So, what are you doing to relax?
This meme.
7. So, what are you writing?
In my head, I'm working on my book, which I'm not quite ready to reveal the subject of… yet. Otherwise, I just finished some book reviews for a class, and I'm currently working on a paper for a class. I'm writing it in the form of a dialogue (in the style of David Hume's dialogues).
8. So, what are you praying for?
Lots, but here's one that I should post here: my uncle and a family friend, both of whom have cancer. Your prayers are coveted for them. Some other prayers I think I'll leave off my blog, but I can explain by e-mail if anyone really wants to know.
Note: The questions on this page written by Mark are governed by the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 2.5 license. I believe my responses are allowed under fair use and therefore are not licensed under the Creative Commons license (I don't want people messing with adapting my personal opinions, thank you very much).
I took this quiz almost a year ago. When I ran across it again, I decided to see if things had changed. I ran through it once and it had, Barth was second to Calvin. I tried it again, this time doing it all at once and reading closely rather than fooling with it while doing something else, and I ended up having to pick a tie breaker between Barth and Calvin. The first time I read a few things wrong, I realized. I seem to be less Anselmic these days. Maybe I need to go read about the being that than which none greater can be conceived again. Otherwise, this is unsurprising. Barth loved Anselm and is reformed, so it makes sense that these three rank at the top of my list.
My only qualm about it would be that some of the questions are nearly direct quotes from theologians. Hence, I can respond in one of two ways: (1) select what I think about the doctrine, (2) select how I feel about that theologian's interpretation of the doctrine. I favored the second method, rejecting statements not so much for the doctrine behind them, but the particular manifestation of the doctrine. Is God the Ground of All Being? Well, sure. But, is He the Ground of All Being in the Tillichian sense? No, if I can figure out what Tillich really thought (which would be no small feat), I suspect I'd say no. It seems I was fairly anti-Tillich today, whereas I was feeling a bit more Lutheran after spending a few weeks studying the Reformation, I guess.
 | You scored as Karl Barth. The daddy of 20th Century theology. You perceive liberal theology to be a disaster and so you insist that the revelation of Christ, not human experience, should be the starting point for all theology.
Which theologian are you? created with QuizFarm.com |
