Books progress

I have read seven books in eight days now. Well, eight in eight if we want to count each of those two really really short Novelas Ejemplares. The eighth/ninth book I'm starting, depending on how one counts (I really should say it's the eighth), is the autobiography of Santa Teresa de Jesús.

I'm only reading for "academic purposes" on six days of the week, however, and today is my day off. At last! I can finally pay attention to that nagging WE NEEDS A HARRY POTTER AND/OR INHERITANCE BOOKS FIX, MY PRECIOUS, MY LOVE, AND THE SOONER WE GETS IT THE BETTER feeling I've had since well before finals week started. I think I'll go read Harry, book one, in English... for about the eighth time. I would reread Eragon or Eldest, but my copies are in a different state. I left them there on purpose. Much as I wanted to put them in my suitcase, I knew that if I brought them, the temptation would be too great and then I'd get three or four fewer Spanish books read than was desireable.

Good stories always make a person lose all sense of time

While reading this novel by Carmen Martín Gaite, I ran across a rather wonderful statement about stories.

Recently, when I happened to mention to [my mother] that nowadays houses have very little mystery about them and all living rooms seem to be the same living room, she got to talking about those old houses and I asked her to draw me a plan of the one in Cáceres. In the beginning it struck her as a silly whim of mine and she began to draw it rather reluctantly, just to please me, but then, as she drew each room and started having trouble with the proportions and the way they fitted together, she got all enthused and went to get graph paper so as to try to solve the problems, and finally we both got so interested we forgot to set the table for lunch, and I told her that good stories always make a person lose all sense of time and that thanks to them we keep ourselves from being overwhelmed by practical tasks, and that remark led to a really delightful chat.

In my edition of The Back Room, the quote is found on page 86. That is near the end of the third chapter. Really good stories do make me lose my sense of time. Sometimes I also lose my sense of place. Occasionally, I will half forget where I am until I get really hungry and realize that I'm hungry because I was sitting on a couch or futon reading so contentedly that I haven't thought to have anything to eat since 9 am and now it's dinnertime. (This happens most often on school vacations when I've got a 350+ page novel. J.K. Rowling is the author most responsible for such situations in my experience as a reader, with Madeleine L'Engle a close second.)

This reminds me of what my sister said to me almost exactly two years ago as we left a movie theater. It was something along the lines of that the best sort of movie is the one that after the end credits roll, you walk out through the lobby in a daze and cannot for the life of you remember where you parked the car. As I remember, that comment was also part of a really delightful chat!

Reading, reading, always reading

Having finished Los de abajo, which is a novel of the Mexican Revolution, and El silencio de las sirenas, I'm starting my sixth book in seven days. This one is a novel by Carmen Martín Gaite.

Reading...

On the subject of Sandra Cisneros's fiction, I like the novels The House on Mango Street and Caramelo much more than the short stories in Woman Hollering Creek. The House on Mango Street is probably my favorite of those three books.

A book a day progress

I finished the Ernesto Cardenal poetry anthology last night. It was good. I like reading Cardenal's poems. My first encounter with them took place in a Latin American culture and civilization class I took as an undergraduate. Cardenal's liberation theology and the occasional syncretistic link established between Christianity and the religions of indigenous American people groups make me feel a little uncomfortable on occasion,* but other than that I really enjoy his writing. It is especially interesting to see how he incorporates quotes from chronicles that tell of the fall of the Aztec empire into some of his verses.

Now, I'm going to work on some Cisneros and García Morales. If I finish both those books today, I will have read four books in four days and won't be behind any longer in my quest to read a book a day.



*I sympathize with many elements of liberation theology, but sometimes things go too far. Another thing... it gets to me when Cardenal (or anyone, really) starts going off in a hagiographical manner about the martyrdom of Che. I'm probably in the minority within my field with respect to this opinion, but I'm not a big fan of Che.

An interesting read

Well, this should be interesting for professors and certain people, like myself, who want to be professors some day. An English language & literature prof says Never Write a Textbook. Also, there's a follow up post, If you must write a textbook.

Narnia viewing #2

Here's a little analogy about birth order in my family. It relates to The Chronicles of Narnia. Peter is the eldest of the Pevensie children, followed by Susan, then Edmund, and lastly Lucy. My siblings and I are also four. I am to my family what Peter is to the Pevensies. (This analogy breaks down if we discuss gender, obviously.)

One of my brothers — Lucy in terms of birth order* — and I went to see The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe today. He hadn't seen it before. I think it's safe to say he liked the movie as much as I did, and, as you may recall, I absolutely loved it. It was just as good the second time.



*He'll want to do me serious physical harm if he discovers I called him our family's Lucy, no doubt. Oh well...

Three days, one book finished

I finally finished The Dialogic Imagination today. It made much more sense than the first time I tried reading it,* but I don't think I can say I understood 100% of what Bakhtin was talking about. Now that that is finished, I've decided to go watch The Chronicles of Narnia later this afternoon, but before then I hope to finish Ernesto Cardenal's Antología Poética, a nice little paperback that is (happily) a lot slimmer than the Bakhtin. That way I'll only be one day behind schedule...



*It helps that since then, I've read works by several authors who are cited as examples over and over — Cervantes, Lucian, whoever is responsible for Lazarillo de Tormes...

A book a day

This is my project for the next four weeks: read a book a day six of seven days of the week and blog about my progress. These books will come from what was previously named the to read NOW or else I die list. "I" represents "my academic future" in that phrase, by the way. Ideally, I'll get more books from it read than I did all of last summer. I did not accomplish as much as I had wanted then. Of course, the difference between the books I'm about to read and certain ones from summer vacation (i.e., El ingenioso hidalgo Don Quijote de la Mancha) is that the ones for winter vacation have been strategically chosen. Their average length is much, much shorter.

The project starts today with Bakhtin.

Votes tallied

Thanks to those of you who voted to tell me what to read on the plane! The Dialogic Imagination won. That was one of the least-painful-to-read-right-after-the-term-ended items on the list, and I'm relieved with your choice. Upon finishing that, to have some fun I'll go watch either The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe or Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

Baby Potter

Imagine an adaptation of the first Harry Potter book, told in under than a minute and set in a daycare. That's what this Baby Potter is all about. It's cute as well as funny. I recommend watching it more than once — there's a lot going on in a short time!

I found this at MuggleNet.

What am I?

I am Chinese food. Via TulipGirl. I'm not exactly sure what to make of the explanation, but anyway...

You Are Chinese Food

Exotic yet ordinary. People think they've had enough of you, but they're back for more in an hour.

What Kind of Food Are You?

I'm feeling indecisive... your input, please!

I've made a poll so people who read my blog can help me overcome this moment of indecision. In a few days, I've got a bit of traveling to do. I also need to start winter break well by reading something academic; I've got a whole lot of reading that must be done as soon as possible. However, like I said, I'm feeling indecisive. Maybe that's because I'd really rather reread something like Eragon or Sabriel or a Harry Potter book... but I'm not in grad school to study any of those. Unfortunately.

What should I read on the plane? Here are the candidates:

*Two of the Novelas ejemplares by Miguel de Cervantes. These are pretty short — but the font is small, and this is a Golden Age text, meaning that it would behoove me to have a dictionary in my backpack while traveling.

*El carnero by Juan Rodríguez Freyle. It's about 500 pages of small font in size, and it's a chronicle of the conquest of Nueva Granada composed in the 1600's. Obviously, it's going to take me longer than just one plane trip to read this thing, even if that trip were to involve me crossing several oceans... I really don't want to read this right now, mostly because its length is intimidating me, but now would be better than having to deal with it several months down the road.

*Me llamo Rigoberta Menchú y así me nació la conciencia. It is (supposedly, some say) nonfiction. I predict it will be very depressing. The upside is that this is written in modern Spanish.

*La Diana by Jorge de Montemayor. It's 400 some pages long, and part of it's in verse. It dates from the 1500's, so the dictionary might also need to come. The genre is the pastoral, or so I've heard. I really lack the motivation to pick up this book.

*El silencio de las sirenas by Adelaida García Morales. I don't know anything about this novel, good or bad, other than the fact that its author is from Spain and is a few years older than my parents. The book was published recently enough that my copy doesn't have any sort of critical introduction. It's under 200 pages.

*Or, I could go the theory route: M.M. Bakhtin's The Dialogic Imagination. A few years ago, about half-way through college, I tried reading some Bakhtin. I understood very little, and I'm a bit afraid to try again for fear I still won't understand.

Vote away! (If you read my blog though RSS feeds, the polls probably aren't appearing for you — you'll need to access the non-RSS form of the blog to vote.)
UPDATE: Okay, polls are closed now. Results are here



After I read the book selected in that poll, I'll go with something fun to reward myself. You can pick that one, too.



You have until Thursday to cast your vote(s).

{/studybreak}

After that bit of sort-of-study-related linguistics fun, it's time to go offline again and really concentrate on performing well on exams and final papers. I think I'll try the "study until I make it to Beethoven's ninth or collapse, whichever happens first" route again, since it worked so well last time I tried it.

The Twelve Days of Linguistics

To be sung to the tune of "The Twelve Days of Christmas." I wrote this while simultaneously studying for exams, sitting in a coffee shop, listening to Christmas carols, staring at my textbook, and desperately trying to figure out a way to retain basic information about the sound system of Spanish that is so basic I am liable to forget it. The song was relatively easy to write until I got to day seven. Finding something for nine in the distinctive feature values table in the textbook was an absolute nightmare.

The meter gets a bit weird sometimes, but oh well — this is a study aid, not something I'm going to record! I figure that typing the song will help me remember it come test day, and if I'm going to put the effort into typing it, I may as well post it on my blog.

By the first day of linguistics, this phoneme came to me:
there's one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the second day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the third day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the fourth day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are four to two liquids*,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the fifth day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are five vowel phonemes,
four to two liquids,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the sixth day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are six stops a-stopping the air stream,
five vowel phonemes,
four to two liquids,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the seventh day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are seven [-consonantal] phonemes**,
six stops a-stopping the air stream,
five vowel phonemes,
four to two liquids,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the eighth day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are eight fricatives in all***,
seven [-consonantal] phonemes,
six stops a-stopping the air stream,
five vowel phonemes,
four to two liquids,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the ninth day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are nine to seven non-obstruent [-syllabic] phonemes****,
eight fricatives in all,
seven [-consonantal] phonemes,
six stops a-stopping the air stream,
five vowel phonemes,
four to two liquids,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the tenth day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are ten voiceless phonemes,
nine to seven non-obstruent [-syllabic] phonemes,
eight fricatives in all,
seven [-consonantal] phonemes,
six stops a-stopping the air stream,
five vowel phonemes,
four to two liquids,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the eleventh day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are eleven [+high] phonemes,
ten voiceless phonemes,
nine to seven non-obstruent [-syllabic] phonemes,
eight fricatives in all,
seven [-consonantal] phonemes,
six stops a-stopping the air stream,
five vowel phonemes,
four to two liquids,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

By the twelfth day of linguistics, these phonemes came to me:
there are twelve [+continuant] phonemes,
eleven [+high] phonemes,
ten voiceless phonemes,
nine to seven non-obstruent [-syllabic] phonemes,
eight fricatives in all,
seven [-consonantal] phonemes,
six stops a-stopping the air stream,
five vowel phonemes,
four to two liquids,
three nasals,
two glides,
and one affricate in Spanish phonology.

*The number depends on the dialect and on if you think there is only one vibrant (instead of two) in Spanish.
**The [-consonantal] trait is shared by vowels and glides.
***However, a given dialect will only possess five or six of them.
****The number of nasals + liquids + glides.

As far as rewritten Christmas songs go, I like the version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" that Shur'tugal, a website devoted to Christopher Paolini's Inheritance Trilogy, is displaying in the header of its main page a lot better than my version. Sorry, I can't find a permalink to the post that is keeping track of each day's new addition. So far, it's "four Feldunost, three dragon eggs, two books complete, and CP (Christopher Paolini) in a pear tree." The graphics are quite amusing. To me, at least.

Clearly, it's time for a break

I've been typing away on my laptop for something like six hours, and I think my precious has a fever. I felt its forehead, and it's hot. Not just hot, burning up. I think I'll let the precious take a nap and sleep off its high temperature. Methinks I might as well take the hint and call it a night too...

More software ranting

In the past, I've mentioned what I think of Microsoft Word, but I think I have failed to mention how much I loathe its Office Assistant. Time to remedy that.

We hates the Office Assistant.

No, Microsoft people, I do not want the Office Assistant to pop up and suggest how I might format this document. I've been using a computer since I was a preschooler, if not before. I know perfectly well how I want to format it; I would like the Assistant to please go away, leave me alone, and leave me alone on a consistent basis. That is why after I last had a major Word crisis, an inordinately painful experience necessitating the deletion and reinstallation of Office, I went through the default settings and unchecked those that annoy me. One of those was, naturally, the Assistant. I knocked it unconscious to put me out of my misery. Clearly, I didn't hit it on the head with a hard enough object.

We told it to leave then and never come back, but did it listen to us, precious? Eh? No, it did not — gollum — curse it, we hates it. And now we wants to crush it, the abominable Office Assistant, and kill it. Kill the tricksy thingses dead. Make it pay. Put its eyses out!

Okay — this may sound a bit of an extreme reaction, wanting it dead, but at 2 am, it doesn't take much for Office to provoke my inner Gollum. And I had specifically told it not to do this to me.

7

From the Little Professor, we have a meme involving the number seven. I saw this a few weeks ago but didn't get around to posting my answers then.

Seven things to do before I die
Achieve trilingual status (or better).
Attend a game of my favorite NFL team at their home stadium. Preferably one they win. Preferably a game against a division rival. Or a playoff game.
Get the Ph.D.
Improve my pathetically limited knowledge of Greek.
Memorize a lot more scripture.
Move. West of everything here.
Spend days or weeks (preferably the latter) in certain museums in the London, Paris, Madrid, and Barcelona metropolitan areas.

Seven things I cannot do
Do a cartwheel.
Look good in orange.
Multitask.
Refrain from scrutinizing other people's book collections.
Seem to avoid turning interests into obsessions.
Sing soprano.
Tolerate nasty horrid little shelobs.

Seven things that attract me to my best friend
Friends I have, but a best friend I do not, so I'll skip this one.

Seven things I say most often
(This is the English version of the list)
Granted.
Obviously.
Probably.
Really.
So.
Typically.
Yeah.

Seven books (or series) I love
(To make things more interesting, I'm going to list seven beyond the obvious seven, the obvious being the Abhorsen trilogy, the Bible, The Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, the as-yet-unfinished Inheritance trilogy, The Lord of the Rings/The Silmarillion, and The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind.)
Bird by bird.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
The Hiding Place.
A Little Princess.
Mere Christianity.
Niebla.
Till We Have Faces.

Seven movies I watch over and over again (or would watch over and over if I had the time)
Chariots of Fire.
The Fellowship of the Ring/The Two Towers/The Return of the King.
Gosford Park.
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade/Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Minority Report.
Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
Serenity.

Seven people I want to join in, too
Any seven people who feel like it.

San Juan de la Cruz

Today is the feast day of San Juan de la Cruz (also known as St. John of the Cross), a great Spanish mystic. In my studies of Spanish, I've read a lot of his poetry. Via Open Book.

Happiness

I love interlibrary loan programs.

"Doing Your Duty"

Professor Bainbridge just directed the attention of readers of his blog to this article. This is his description: "My friend Harvard law professor William Stuntz turns his considerable talents to theology with a touching meditation on suffering. Highly recommended." I agree with that assessment. I'd like quote the whole thing, but I'll only cite a small fragment of it and hope that if it interests you, you'll follow the link.

Obligation. Responsibility. Duty. Perseverance. Happiness. Which word doesn’t belong?

Readers may think: Come on, ask a harder question. “Duty” and "perseverance" have all but disappeared from ordinary speech, while "obligation" and "responsibility" are usually seen as unpleasant medicines that, sometimes, one must take. If the point of life is to pursue happiness — the American creed, enshrined in our Declaration of Independence — then living well means minimizing the first four of those words and maximizing the fifth.

That is definitely our culture's conventional wisdom. Sadly, this piece of "wisdom" is almost as conventional in Christian circles, especially among evangelicals. But it’s not wise, and definitely not Christian. The Bible teaches that the road to that fifth noun runs through the first four. More precisely, it teaches that while happiness may not be your lot in this life, you can have something much better: contentment, even joy. Want a satisfying life? Live up to your obligations — or, as generations past would have put it more elegantly, do your duty.

Paragraphs later, he concludes:

More and more, I think the key to living well is figuring out which things one gets by seeking them, and which things one gets only by seeking other, better things. Doing good work is in the first category. Happiness, contentment, peace of mind, a good family life, the respect of one's peers, often (surprisingly so) professional advancement — these things are all in the second: all are byproducts of seeking something, or Someone, else. Our culture gets that backward. Most of us, most of the time, strive to do our jobs well only insofar as it gets us some reward. No one does his best work that way. Meanwhile, we treat the good things of this life as if they were lovers to be wooed and pursued. But these lovers are teases: always just out of reach, just one changed circumstance away. Life lived pursuing happiness is life lived always pursuing, never getting the thing pursued. Seek God, and you'll find him — along with a lot else. Seek everything else you want, and you may get some but not nearly enough; you'll end by raging against the light's dying, long before the light has actually died. When Dylan Thomas describes it, the rage sounds noble. It isn't. Trust me: I know that land well. I've lived there.

Too often, we in the church cultivate the world's virtues, instead of the very different ones our God has in mind for us. The world says: Do what you want. We tend to respond: Ask God for what you want. The response is too modest. Better to say: Do right, and you may find that you want what you do. Christians call that blessed state "contentment." One finds it through perseverance — another poorly understood Christian word that sounds like bad-tasting medicine but in truth is a drink of cool water in a parched land. Don't pray that your circumstances would better suit your desires. Instead, pray that your desires would better suit your circumstances — that you would do your job, do right by those with whom you deal, keep going when quitting seems easier, not out of habit or necessity but out of love and gratitude.

Our culture — Christians no less than anyone else — sees duty and obligation as undesirable limits on human freedom, things to be avoided where possible and grudgingly accepted where not. In truth, duty and obligation lie at the core of every well-lived life. When embraced willingly, they are not a burden on freedom but an exercise of it. Not obstacles to happiness but the road toward it. I don't want to name and claim anything, because I would claim all the wrong things. Better to take the worst this devil-filled world can muster, and do my duty.

Filmblogging: The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe

I have taken great pains to suppress spoilers and the over-excited use of exclamation points in my comments about the movie. The reason I am consciously not using exclamation points is that I'd otherwise be tempted to use them to end two out of every three sentences once I start talking about the film.

My perspective is that of a female twenty-something evangelical Christian who was introduced to Narnia when her parents read her The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe when she was about five or six years old, has reread the entire series many times over since then, has read most of the seven books in two or three languages, would identify herself as a die-hard C. S. Lewis fan (although she recognizes he and his writing are not flawless), enjoys trying to identify topoi (traditional themes and formulas) common to medieval and renaissance literature in his fiction, and was very skeptical about this film adaptation being at all good when she first got wind over 18 months ago that Walden Media and Disney were making this movie, as the archives of this blog attest. For what it's worth, The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe is my third favorite chronicle, after The Horse and His Boy and Prince Caspian.

So, here is my reaction after viewing the first of what I sincerely hope will be many Narnia movies made by Walden Media. I saw it this afternoon, so it is fresh in my mind.

It was amazing. I loved it. Wow. Aslan looked real. The casting for the kids was great; they were believable as a family. For that matter, all the casting was good. There were some really funny lines, and I'd quote my favorites here were it not for my self-imposed spoiler moratorium. I keep reading reviews of the film where people talk about seeing Lord of the Rings/Star Wars influences in certain scenes, but with one minor exception I honestly can't identify any of that.* And trust me, I know my Lord of the Rings movies. I also know the original Star Wars Trilogy quite well. (Its prequels, not so much, and I have no desire to know them better.) I expected the film to be good, although I wasn't sure if it would be great. My expectations were exceeded. It was great, and it is battling Serenity, Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire, and Mad Hot Ballroom for status as my favorite film of 2005.

A word of advice if you will go to see it in the cinema: Don't stand up to leave the minute the credits start rolling. Stick around for a bit. It's worth it.




*That minor exception is that some rock formations glimpsed briefly in the last third of the movie vaguely reminded me of the rock formations shown in two scenes from Peter Jackson's LotR. I doubt those scenes were filmed at the same locations, though. That exception is, obviously, so extremely trivial as to be irrelevant.

Back to work

Okay, time to end my nice little internet study break (it resulted in the post found immediately below) and get back to another four or so solid hours of writing and doing my research. I think I will relocate for those. I desperately need out of the apartment. It's still a sauna.

The things that are keeping me motivated right now are (a) tomorrow is Sunday, (b) I don't want to need to work on Sunday, (c) I am planning to go see The Lewis Film as a major study break tomorrow, (d) I need to deserve that study break, and (e) I really don't want to pull any all-nighters this year.

Therefore, I'd best be productive and make use of my Saturday night.

This is scary

Quoth New Kid on the Hallway in Attrition; or, an interesting tidbit about grad school:

A conversation with a colleague the other day prompted me to wade through Dissertation Abstracts and figure this out:

There were about 26 students who entered grad school with me (in *cough* the early 90s *cough*).

Eight of us have completed our degrees.

The story doesn't surprise me. That said, it sure does make me feel afraid. I fear for my yet to be obtained degree. I fear that I might not finish it. At this point, I don't want to think about what I'd do in life if I didn't finish grad school. I would very much like to have a career as an academic, I have a rather serious case of Ph.D. envy, and I don't want to leave without getting what I came for!

Friday Night Agenda

Whole evening: Stay off the internet as to ensure that I get work done.
Whole evening: Not freeze to death.
Whole evening: Not stress about the end of the semester, which is nigh.
Potentially the whole evening: Enjoy as many of Beethoven's 9 symphonies as possible before collapsing of exhaustion.

Chronology of the other items on the agenda:
Make something to eat for dinner.
Read.
Work on writing paper.
Read.
Self caffeinate.
Read.
Write more.
Sleep... eventually.

LATER, AT 2:30 AM SATURDAY: I listened to the nine symphonies in their entirety.

I really didn't need to worry about being cold — the powers that be over the thermostat are confusing my building with a sauna, and there's nothing I can do about it at this hour. I'm nearing the point of collapse. The new question is this: exhausted though I am, will I be able to sleep well in this truly infernal heat?

Speed limits

After looking at a Cato Institute report, lawblogger Professor Bainbridge has a suggestion: "why not emulate the German autobahn and significantly raise (or even eliminate) speed limits on rural interstates?"

I like the idea. (Note: I am fully aware that my primary reason for liking it is selfish.) I like it because raising speed limits on the aforementioned sort of roads would significantly cut down the time it takes for me to drive from the place I currently live in academic exile to places where I actually know people from contexts unrelated to my post-secondary education experience, especially places where I have many relatives. I do some really long road trips these days, often without the help of another driver. There's a lot I'd give to make these odysseys shorter. "A lot" includes an increased percentage of my very small paycheck. Of course, it's easier to say this now that gas prices are lower than they were in the recent past.

My roommate and I actually had a discussion about this a few weeks back. We disagreed and still disagree. The Nanotribologist says that she doesn't want speed limits raised, for reasons that mostly have to do with decreased fuel efficiency once a vehicle attains a certain velocity. It was much more environment-friendly than mine, and I felt guilty about that. I remember that I countered by saying I'd be more than willing to buy more gas if doing so got me to my parents' house faster. Plus, my number of miles driven on a voyage home is about 3.5 times her equivalent trip; consequently, I think I'm a little more desperate to get home fast, and I go home less often. That, essentially, is my reasoning as to why I'd love speed limits on interstates raised, please.

Random bit of trivia: I have yet to receive a traffic ticket. I've never even been pulled over by a police officer.

Reportedly working on dissertations?

Over at Cliopatria, Caleb's comments on adverb choice amused me.

Photoshop hilarity

"Bushy-tailed though they were, the two padawans were no match for the Dark Squirrel of the Sith." That's a description from the latest Outside the Beltway caption contest, which features lightsaber-wielding... wait for it... squirrels. The picture is, to understate things, funny.

Clearly full of dark magic

Apparently, a horcrux that we all thought gone avoided destruction, and now it's online. Which horcrux would that be, you ask? Tom Riddle's Diary. Merlin help us.

A word of advice from Mr. Weasley: never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain.

(Hat tip, Leaky Cauldron.)

10 more search engine hits

Phil caused me to I realize that I haven't shown any search engine queries that have caused people to stumble across my blog in a very long time. Here are some very recent ones! Number two is my favorite, although I can't see much of a connection between Eragon the book and Gutenberg the person.

1) From Google Blogsearch: his dark materials
2) From Google (India): eragon gutenberg
3) From Yahoo: analyzing dr. strangelove the film
4) From Google: hylexin and opinion
5) From Google (Pakistan): indian old movies's hit songs
6) From Google: frank ticheli "blue shades" music paper
7) From Google: voldemort etymology
8) From Google: "harry potter scholarship"
9) From Google (Thailand): acadame fantasia
10) From Google: analysis of embrujo de shanghai

What I most commonly get these days, however, are images.google.com hits stemming from the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince cupcake incident. Strangely, I haven't been receiving much love in the form of traffic from Yahoo these days.

For the Love of Narnia

The Chronicle of Higher Education has a really good article, For the Love of Narnia, that starts off talking about the Narnia movie but really isn't about the movie at all. It's a critique of the (harsh, unfair, and unwarranted, in my opinion) critique of Christianity and C.S. Lewis that Phillip Pullman (author of His Dark Materials) does. I'd like to say thanks to Amy Welborn for directing me to the article.



Side note: If you're relatively new to this blog, you might not be aware of the fact that Christianity-bashing and a few worldview issues aside, I'm actually quite a fan of Pullman and have blogged a lot about His Dark Materials in the past. I think he is a fantastic writer but with a penchant to demonize anything that could remotely be connected to Christianity, or worse, John Calvin. I like Pullman, but I wouldn't give his fantasy trilogy to a thirteen-year-old kid to read.

Adventures in Sugar Cookie Art

Last night, I decorated sugar cookies with friends. Unfortunately, as the baking and prettifying of cookies with frosting and other tasty trimmings did not take place at my apartment, my digital camera was not on hand to help provide a visual play-by-play of how I decorated my cookies. (Also, as I did not know beforehand that we would end up decorating cookies, I didn't think to bring the camera. Plus, these friends would have thought that really weird...) I can only give you the end result.

Have an idea where this is going? Remember the cupcakes from July (posts 1, 2, 3)? I'll give you a little space to ponder this question and time to click the links if necessary, and then you can scroll down for the answer and the photographic evidence.







































I only did one of the cookies Harry Potter style, but anyway, one is sufficient. To borrow the words that Dobby wrote on baubles he used to decorate the room where the D.A. met in year five...

HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS!



This specimen of Harry Potter Sugar Cookie Art, brought to you by the teaching assistant, shows Mr. Harry James Potter in the bottle-green Yule Ball robes he wears on one memorable night in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

Thanksgiving conversations, 2

INT. HOTEL LOBBY, SATURDAY NIGHT

After THE TEACHING ASSISTANT checks into the hotel closest to her airport of departure, it's time to say a few goodbyes. Her PARENTS and YOUNGEST BROTHER have just driven her to the hotel and are about to embark on what will be a long car trip home. They are present in the lobby. After bidding her parents farewell, the Teaching Assistant turns to her Youngest Brother and GIVES HIM A SIDE ARM HUG, her other arm holding on to her suitcase.

TEACHING ASSISTANT
Well, goodbye! I love you. I'll see you at Christmas.

YOUNGEST BROTHER
You too. See you then, and may the [our favorite NFL team] win the Super Bowl.

TEACHING ASSISTANT
(grinning)
Yes, may they indeed!

Their parents, very amused, LAUGH.




The funniest thing was how my brother said that. Picture the "May the Force be with you" farewell from Star Wars; that's the general idea. (You may have not expected this from me, but I follow professional football and regularly read Gregg Easterbrook's TMQ. This season is making me very happy.)

An unasked question is answered

Ever since I started reading Anastasia's blog, I have wondered what in saecula saeculorum means but have never gotten around to asking. I assumed that it was a Latin phrase and that in was a preposition, but that was about it. Now I know!