First a brief explanation. Friday entries feature my look at a movie/book/game that is generally regarded as terrible or awful and my attempt to find some good in said movie/book/game. This specific theme is inspired by the origin of the word "Friday" being Old English "Frīġedæġ" (Frih-ye-day), or "day of Frigg" (full info here). Frigg is regarded as a separate goddess, but there are parallels to Freya, and they share a common root. So, exercising some artistic license, I've decided on the Queen of the Valkyries rather than the Norse goddess of Love. And so, as Valkyries pull fallen warriors from the fields of battle and bring them to Valhalla, so too am I going to try to redeem some otherwise slain movie/book/game. One viewer/reader/player's opinion might not be equal to such redemption, but what else is a blog for if not grandiose posturing? Onwards!
The movie Priest was recently released on DVD. Set in a post-apocalyptic old west, Priest presents a world where humans and vampires (eyeless creatures more akin to the twilight monsters of Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess or primitive tigers than sparkly heartthrobs) live in horrid disharmony. A major war has given a modicum of security to the pockets of humanity that still remain, but has left the elite soldiers of that war, the priests, without a place in this secure society. The film follows one priest, simply "Priest," in particular as he strives to save his kidnapped niece from vampires.
Does this plot sound like it's a mission of earth shattering proportions? One on which the survival of humanity may well rely? No? Well. You're quite right.
The real threat to humanity comes from one of Priest's old friends (referred to as "Black Hat") who has been made into the first human-vampire hybrid...somehow. The movie never really explains how or why. It makes it clear that vampires can either feed off of people or turn them into obvious familiars (dilated pupils, pale eyes, paler skin - think Nosferatu, actually) - but even the mechanics of this are not explained. Does it happen at random? Do the vampires choose their familiars after great deliberation? At least the movie makes it clear that only the vampire queen can make a hybrid with her bite - but why she chose to do so to Black Hat specifically is never explained.
That none of this is explained could be because vampires are limited to living in what the film calls "reservations." Let me just reiterate something here. This is a sci-fi post-apocalyptic movie set in what could be summed up as a future wild west about a conflict between Humans and Vampires. Humans live in cities. Vampires live in reserves. The way that these details look taken altogether makes the connection to Cowboys and Indians just too easy to make.
But it's not over yet.
The logic of the ruling class in this movie, of the Church that is, really makes no sense. Priests are still around. Vampires are still around. Priests are trained to kill vampires and only to kill vampires. Yet, to keep the fragile peace, I guess, the Clergy (the Church high council) refuses to let the movie's hero, Priest, leave the city to save his niece.
To its credit, the movie does point out that the Church disbanded the army of priests for fear of their skill and ruthlessness, but two things bother me about this. One: the Church is not made up of vampires, so if these elites were blessed by god with vampire slaying powers, then the Church should have a little more faith in their self-control. Two: There are still vampires around, guys. Shouldn't the priests at least live out their usefulness before you take their teeth out and refuse to give them back? Why do they even have these vampires on the reserves anyway? It wouldn't bug me if the Church at least said, "even these eyeless beasts are god's creation, and so must be preserved." It wouldn't be great, but it would be something. And that is better than nothing.
The credits say that this movie is based on the graphic novel series by Hyung Min-Woo. I haven't read this series, but if the plot summary on Priest's wikipedia page is accurate "based on" is stretching it a bit.
Nonetheless, there is some good in this movie, even if it is a pretty shameless action flic. So what does this movie do well?
Information pacing. Yes, there might not be a lot of it here, but Priest's background story is well presented. We aren't told up front about every detail of Priest's past, and its revealed slowly. I'd compare it to an onion, but it's a little too clichéd to make you cry. It isn't particularly unique, but it was a pleasant surprise to see this kind of character development in a movie like this. Plus, the movie doesn't bust out the dick jokes and bad innuendo one-liners when the question of the priests' celibacy is broached.
Similarly, I really enjoyed the idea that a vampire-human hybrid is such a big deal that it takes a queen, and an active choice to make one. This movie just doesn't handle this aspect very well.
Christopher Plummer. Yes, an actor is not an aspect of story or background detail, but that Christopher Plummer is here really brightens the movie for me. His role as the head of the Clergy doesn't get him a lot of screen time, but he gets right into the part and plays the pompous cleric quite excellently.
The Green Lantern Effect. Like the recent Green Lantern movie, this film is not particularly well done and can easily be reduced to some pretty crummy messages or themes, but it's interesting enough to get me to want to go out and read the original. Also, since Priest is a graphic novel series, I'm much more likely to check it out in the near future than I am to get into the decades-long mythos of the Green Lantern universe.
It all comes down to this: Adaptations exist to increase revenues and exposure. Having grossed $78.3 million to date with an estimated budget of $60 million (all numbers from the wiki page), Priest is not quite a Jurassic Park or a Titanic. But, speaking for myself, it definitely succeeded on the exposure front. I'm intrigued, and, given the chance, I would pick up volume one of Priest. So, in my eyes, this movie overcomes its faults, heavy as they are.
Freya, go ahead and take this one out from the moldering heaps of grisly dead.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
[Wōdnes-dæg] A Lesson from Clive Cussler
Once more the Christmas season is come and gone, but my urge to learn more carries on. Some recent holiday reading is the source of the learning this week. Though it's holiday reading because of timing rather than theme.
Lately, I've been learning a little bit about what makes an intriguing and interesting book. As much as can be learned from the work of Clive Cussler, that is.
As one of the most popular writers of the end of the 20th century, it seems like he's one to check out for style pointers. Though, looking into Cussler's style has also taught me what I know to be true of my own as much as it has shown me what works.
What I've noticed the most about Cussler's writing is that his dialogue handles exposition quite badly. Bits of information just keep dripping off of it like drops of fat from spit-roasting hunk of meat and then leaping from the flames and into the laps of those sitting too close to the flames. As a result this expositional dialogue strikes me as hackneyed and quite out of place.
What my critique of this dialogue comes down to is that factual exposition tends to make dialogue seem unrealistic. The sort of stuff that any real, live person might say "Oh, that's neat" to. Or perhaps something like "why are you telling me this?" So on that count, I have learned what not to do. Keep the facts to the narrator, but keep them relevant to the story.
When the narrator does go on about facts and figures for an extended period of time (specifically in Shock Wave) the narrator's voice sounds stilted. Sure this is interesting, but how is it relevant to the story? A nice sidebar about the status and habits of penguins is nice, but it's just pointless window dressing if it doesn't come up again later on.
As per Cussler's general description? Spot on. I really like the way that he clearly describes his characters and their features. And I like how he uses small details to fill in for personality descriptions. Ticks and mannerisms and side activities are the things that give characters life. However, having the narrator describe anything as "evil" makes me a little wary. Describing an aspect of Boudicca, a daughter of diamond magnate Arthur Dorsett (in the book Shock Wave), as "evil" is a nice bit of subjective description, but it is something that a seemingly omniscient narrator should stay away from.
Now, the way that Cussler describes his action scenes is exceptional. However, I think that it succumbs to too much insider talk. I don't necessarily mean that he gets down to the nitty gritty of what kind of shoe is on a foot as it does a specific kind of kick, but he seems to bring out the specialist vocabulary in his fight scenes for the sake of brevity.
Interestingly, though it's not sentence brevity that Cussler focuses on with this specializing technique. A fair number of his fight/action scenes actually seem to have longer sentences than those found elsewhere in the book, and yet these flow as smoothly as any other. What makes the difference, it seems to me, is that long sentences in action sequences are simpler than long sentences elsewhere. And, perhaps the most important thing to be learned from Cussler's action writing: The period is not just the end of a single self-sufficient unit of expression but is also the signal of the end of a sequence or chain of rapid fire events.
Keeping dialogue to dialogue, making description clear, and on topic, and making the flow of my writing mimic the flow of action sequences. These are the things that I'm going to start carrying into my own fiction writing. I might pick up an older Cussler to see if there are any differences between what his style was and what it is. Even if I don't, Shock Wave has definitely showed me another style, and taught another approach to writing. And for that, I thank it.
Lately, I've been learning a little bit about what makes an intriguing and interesting book. As much as can be learned from the work of Clive Cussler, that is.
As one of the most popular writers of the end of the 20th century, it seems like he's one to check out for style pointers. Though, looking into Cussler's style has also taught me what I know to be true of my own as much as it has shown me what works.
What I've noticed the most about Cussler's writing is that his dialogue handles exposition quite badly. Bits of information just keep dripping off of it like drops of fat from spit-roasting hunk of meat and then leaping from the flames and into the laps of those sitting too close to the flames. As a result this expositional dialogue strikes me as hackneyed and quite out of place.
What my critique of this dialogue comes down to is that factual exposition tends to make dialogue seem unrealistic. The sort of stuff that any real, live person might say "Oh, that's neat" to. Or perhaps something like "why are you telling me this?" So on that count, I have learned what not to do. Keep the facts to the narrator, but keep them relevant to the story.
When the narrator does go on about facts and figures for an extended period of time (specifically in Shock Wave) the narrator's voice sounds stilted. Sure this is interesting, but how is it relevant to the story? A nice sidebar about the status and habits of penguins is nice, but it's just pointless window dressing if it doesn't come up again later on.
As per Cussler's general description? Spot on. I really like the way that he clearly describes his characters and their features. And I like how he uses small details to fill in for personality descriptions. Ticks and mannerisms and side activities are the things that give characters life. However, having the narrator describe anything as "evil" makes me a little wary. Describing an aspect of Boudicca, a daughter of diamond magnate Arthur Dorsett (in the book Shock Wave), as "evil" is a nice bit of subjective description, but it is something that a seemingly omniscient narrator should stay away from.
Now, the way that Cussler describes his action scenes is exceptional. However, I think that it succumbs to too much insider talk. I don't necessarily mean that he gets down to the nitty gritty of what kind of shoe is on a foot as it does a specific kind of kick, but he seems to bring out the specialist vocabulary in his fight scenes for the sake of brevity.
Interestingly, though it's not sentence brevity that Cussler focuses on with this specializing technique. A fair number of his fight/action scenes actually seem to have longer sentences than those found elsewhere in the book, and yet these flow as smoothly as any other. What makes the difference, it seems to me, is that long sentences in action sequences are simpler than long sentences elsewhere. And, perhaps the most important thing to be learned from Cussler's action writing: The period is not just the end of a single self-sufficient unit of expression but is also the signal of the end of a sequence or chain of rapid fire events.
Keeping dialogue to dialogue, making description clear, and on topic, and making the flow of my writing mimic the flow of action sequences. These are the things that I'm going to start carrying into my own fiction writing. I might pick up an older Cussler to see if there are any differences between what his style was and what it is. Even if I don't, Shock Wave has definitely showed me another style, and taught another approach to writing. And for that, I thank it.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
A Holiday Switch-Up
Although the Monday-Wednesday-Friday pattern that I've started here has been interrupted, it will return next week. Preparing and travelling for family Christmas celebrations has taken up a lot of time at the end of this week, and I'll be away from a stable internet connection until Tuesday. So expect a new post on Wednesday! If you celebrate Christmas, have a merry one! If you celebrate Hanukkah, have a happy one! And if you celebrate any kind of holiday at this time of year, I hope that it's a good one!
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
[Wōdnes-dæg] A Lesson from Freelancing
This entry was written up for a Wednesday and so it is an exploratory essay, in the spirit of Odin (Wednesday's namesake) and his own search for knowledge.
For the past few months I've been working as a freelance writer. The income is humble so far, I (thankfully) haven't really needed to make anything comparable to a full time job because I've moved back in with my parents, but I'll be launching much more in the new year. And as my output increases, income is sure to - a truth that seems to be the result of the internet and the constant demand for content rather than an increase in magazines or anthologies hungry for technical articles or reviews.
Of course, as any one who has written internet content for pay before is likely to tell you, most positions pay peanuts. They'll usually pay a small fee per piece that works out to cents on the word, or, in a few cases, they'll pay you based on how many visits your articles get and how long those visits last. So in further explanation of my note above about increasing my output, doing so is a definite way increase my income as a content writer.
In spite of the low pay, content writing is work that I find to be quite fulfilling. Even if I'm writing about something that I haven't studied for months or years on end (building your own tap dance floor, for example). And, although having multiple outlets for my writing can be overwhelming, it is also encouraging - people still read! Writing and writers are still needed! It's not just a handful of people who can appreciate the written word! - but then, it is just internet content. In a way I feel like I am more of a pen for hire in this wired environment than I think I would were I freelancing fifteen or more years ago, when writers were still (almost) entirely print-based.
In spite of the somewhat transient nature of this work (the accounts don't go away but the assignments or titles sometimes do), I also learned that it can be as disheartening to lose a regular source of writing (and of income) as it can be to be called out by a boss or fired completely.
You see, I wrote for Demand Studios for a time. Yes, the pay per piece was not stellar, but the feeling of getting paid to do something that you genuinely enjoy is more exhilarating than hitting a runner's high or enjoying an excellent party. Of course, it is even more exhilarating when that pay is in a tighter proportion to the effort and the time spent creating a piece. I technically still write for DMS, but since they have essentially closed off new titles from all but the top percentile of their writers I've been unable to get any work with them.
This discovery struck a hard blow. I had been relying on DMS for months as a major source of income, and suddenly that source was gone. Of course, in any line of freelance work this is a major mistake. The very nature of freelance work is that there is generally no long-lasting bond between freelancer and employer/client. After the article or profile or essay is written, submitted, and approved, you no longer work for the person or company who requested/accepted it.
So why bother writing about this experience? Well, in the short term, it's a matter of putting to screen what doesn't work so that I can avoid doing it in the future. Of course, I want to be successful in earning a steady income from my writing and to do that I need to maximize my output. When one door closes I need to open another, or at least crack a window. Money can't squeeze through walls, after all.
But, for the long term, I write about this experience because I think that it is something that is now a much more frequent occurrence. In some of the forums that I have visited there are threads that ask just what a "writer" is. And on these threads is the opinion that people who write for sites like DMS are not really writers at all. They are given article titles that they just need to fulfill, they only care about the byline, and they are more than pleased to get peanuts for what they put their mind and their fingers to work on.
And really, what rookie writer wouldn't fall into such a trap? Getting paid to write? Sure! But the thing is there doesn't seem to be an informal screening process for writing anymore - with content farms and article boards anyone can make some money by stringing words together whereas in the past freelance writers needed to come up with ideas, query editors, and hope for the best.
Just as it is with teachers now in Ontario - by most first- and second-hand accounts, you need to substitute teach for five years before a school board will hire you full time - that process of thinking, querying, and hoping would discourage those who weren't really writers to their core. So am I being elitist? Is opening up the possibility of writing for a living to more people a bad thing?
No and no.
First, I fell into that trap - so there's no room for me to be elitist. Second, like any mass movement or shift I don't think that the proliferation of writers online is entirely bad or entirely good.
More writers means that more voices are heard and shared. But having more writers online does also devalue the written word to some extent. If someone who just finished high school but has always had a knack for words can write as well as someone with a BA in English does that BA really mean anything?
If everyone could generate their own gold it would lose its infallible value. But for all of the social and cultural and linguistic trading that goes on because almost anyone can write on the internet, it seems to me that this plethora of styles and views only enriches the English language.
For the past few months I've been working as a freelance writer. The income is humble so far, I (thankfully) haven't really needed to make anything comparable to a full time job because I've moved back in with my parents, but I'll be launching much more in the new year. And as my output increases, income is sure to - a truth that seems to be the result of the internet and the constant demand for content rather than an increase in magazines or anthologies hungry for technical articles or reviews.
Of course, as any one who has written internet content for pay before is likely to tell you, most positions pay peanuts. They'll usually pay a small fee per piece that works out to cents on the word, or, in a few cases, they'll pay you based on how many visits your articles get and how long those visits last. So in further explanation of my note above about increasing my output, doing so is a definite way increase my income as a content writer.
In spite of the low pay, content writing is work that I find to be quite fulfilling. Even if I'm writing about something that I haven't studied for months or years on end (building your own tap dance floor, for example). And, although having multiple outlets for my writing can be overwhelming, it is also encouraging - people still read! Writing and writers are still needed! It's not just a handful of people who can appreciate the written word! - but then, it is just internet content. In a way I feel like I am more of a pen for hire in this wired environment than I think I would were I freelancing fifteen or more years ago, when writers were still (almost) entirely print-based.
In spite of the somewhat transient nature of this work (the accounts don't go away but the assignments or titles sometimes do), I also learned that it can be as disheartening to lose a regular source of writing (and of income) as it can be to be called out by a boss or fired completely.
You see, I wrote for Demand Studios for a time. Yes, the pay per piece was not stellar, but the feeling of getting paid to do something that you genuinely enjoy is more exhilarating than hitting a runner's high or enjoying an excellent party. Of course, it is even more exhilarating when that pay is in a tighter proportion to the effort and the time spent creating a piece. I technically still write for DMS, but since they have essentially closed off new titles from all but the top percentile of their writers I've been unable to get any work with them.
This discovery struck a hard blow. I had been relying on DMS for months as a major source of income, and suddenly that source was gone. Of course, in any line of freelance work this is a major mistake. The very nature of freelance work is that there is generally no long-lasting bond between freelancer and employer/client. After the article or profile or essay is written, submitted, and approved, you no longer work for the person or company who requested/accepted it.
So why bother writing about this experience? Well, in the short term, it's a matter of putting to screen what doesn't work so that I can avoid doing it in the future. Of course, I want to be successful in earning a steady income from my writing and to do that I need to maximize my output. When one door closes I need to open another, or at least crack a window. Money can't squeeze through walls, after all.
But, for the long term, I write about this experience because I think that it is something that is now a much more frequent occurrence. In some of the forums that I have visited there are threads that ask just what a "writer" is. And on these threads is the opinion that people who write for sites like DMS are not really writers at all. They are given article titles that they just need to fulfill, they only care about the byline, and they are more than pleased to get peanuts for what they put their mind and their fingers to work on.
And really, what rookie writer wouldn't fall into such a trap? Getting paid to write? Sure! But the thing is there doesn't seem to be an informal screening process for writing anymore - with content farms and article boards anyone can make some money by stringing words together whereas in the past freelance writers needed to come up with ideas, query editors, and hope for the best.
Just as it is with teachers now in Ontario - by most first- and second-hand accounts, you need to substitute teach for five years before a school board will hire you full time - that process of thinking, querying, and hoping would discourage those who weren't really writers to their core. So am I being elitist? Is opening up the possibility of writing for a living to more people a bad thing?
No and no.
First, I fell into that trap - so there's no room for me to be elitist. Second, like any mass movement or shift I don't think that the proliferation of writers online is entirely bad or entirely good.
More writers means that more voices are heard and shared. But having more writers online does also devalue the written word to some extent. If someone who just finished high school but has always had a knack for words can write as well as someone with a BA in English does that BA really mean anything?
If everyone could generate their own gold it would lose its infallible value. But for all of the social and cultural and linguistic trading that goes on because almost anyone can write on the internet, it seems to me that this plethora of styles and views only enriches the English language.
Monday, December 19, 2011
[Moon-dæg] December and Religion
The idea behind Monday entries is that they vary along a set pattern, just as the moon itself (Monday's namesake) does. So, seeing as how this Monday the moon will be in its last quarter here in Southwestern Ontario, my treatment of today's topic is going to be more critical than praise-filled, essentially bringing the idea of that topic into a waning state. But what is today's topic?
The idea that there is a "War on Christmas."
Currently living in Small Town Ontario as I am, signs and stickers with slogans like "Keep Christ in Christmas" are fairly common. But the idea that these signs put forth is not entirely as pure or wholesome as those posting the signs and stickers may think.
True. Within Christian faiths Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ and is so positioned to turn the symbolism of the days getting longer toward a Christian meaning, but secularizing the seasonal celebrations throughout the month of December has nothing to do with taking Christ out of Christmas.
First, Canada is often touted as a multicultural society. The last time I checked - fairly recently, by the way - Canada is still distinct from the United States and so the approach to different cultures here is supposedly to offer them a safe environment to practice their customs within the law of the land. The recent naqib controversy has stirred quite a bit on debate on this topic, but my point in bringing up multiculturalism here is that it is necessary to recognize that Christians (nominal or otherwise) may have built this country from settling it, Confederating it, and [] it, but they did so not so that it could be a safe haven for Christians only.
Much like our southern neighbours one of the ideas within the Canadian Bill of Rights and Freedoms is freedom of religion. Stephen Harper is a Christian. Sure. Okay. Dalton McGuinty is Catholic. Cool. Whatever. But the idea behind freedom of religion, at least in my own interpretation, is that explicit religion is to be removed from political policies. Religion - the governance of a soul - and politics - the governance of a people - are to be separate matters in that politicians recognize that their constituents are not necessarily all Catholics or Lutherans or Presbyterians or Jewsh or Muslim or Hindu. In this sense policies that keep Christmas and its vocabulary out of the public sphere of a community, or at the least out of a prominent place in that community are not meant as attacks on Christians by some sort of heathen governing body, but rather to remind Christians that there are other celebrations occurring in December that they should be mindful of.
I think that the idea that there is a variety of special events around the time of December also points to a major flaw in messages like "Keep Christ in Christmas." Those who don't celebrate Christmas, because they are of a different religion or of no religion at all, aren't going to care very much about keeping Christ in Christmas. Christians who acknowledge a nativity scene with a nod or a "that's nice," aren't going to need convincing. The signs, it seems to me, are not so much saying "Hey - keep Christ in your minds and hearts Everybody!" as they are "Hey you reading this sign, guess what - the people in this house/car are Christians." It's a kind of print form of the fire and brimstone which I hear in the voices of religious speakers in many debates and talks (for a good example of this listen to Rabbi Shemuly's tone in this debate with Christoper Hitchens at the 92nd Street Y a [listen<--Link] and compare it to his opponent's). Such a tone suggests that an ardent case is being enthusiastically made, but that enthusiasm does little to bring people who are diametrically oppossed to that stance, or completely unconcerned, into the fold. Moreover, this kind of tone does more damage than good in most debates because it puts the one using it in danger of sounding much less reasonable, while also potentially helping an opponent to seem calmer and more well-reasoned by comparison.
My next point comes in the form of an analogy, so brace yourselves.
It seems to me that religious expression that gets into people's faces or that politicians feel so uncomfortable with that they outright ban it from their communities, is a lot like a ball being tossed about violently by a group of kids. A parent comes along and takes away the ball saying something along the lines of "If you can't play nicely with the ball, you can't play with it at all." Just as the kids might feel slighted ("we were just playing!" "come on, just give us a chance!") the religious get upset and start to feel like they're being singled out (hello "War on Christmas"). But I think that taking the ball away is an effective measure. If one religious group is pushing their message in such a way that it seems to be encroaching on other religions, then no one should be able to push a message. Efforts and messages from governments should be secularized.
It's true that a tenets of many sects of Christianity is to go out and tell people the good news of Christ and such, but I think that an being an exemplary Christian is better than being one with some words for those who disagree or differ with you. This rings especially true today, since modern cynicism can be more easily circumvented by actions than by words. People can say anything, but they will only do what they truly believe and have convinced themselves is true. That conviction is what's necessary for Christians to follow their mandate to spread the word, and being vitriolic or pushy about their ball being taken away is much more harmful to their cause than simply putting up a nativity scene or writing "Merry Christmas" in lights on their house or in a window. People will get offended, but if the message doesn't carry the fire of "Keep Christ in Christmas" then those who are offended won't spit the same back.
The idea that there is a "War on Christmas."
Currently living in Small Town Ontario as I am, signs and stickers with slogans like "Keep Christ in Christmas" are fairly common. But the idea that these signs put forth is not entirely as pure or wholesome as those posting the signs and stickers may think.
True. Within Christian faiths Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ and is so positioned to turn the symbolism of the days getting longer toward a Christian meaning, but secularizing the seasonal celebrations throughout the month of December has nothing to do with taking Christ out of Christmas.
First, Canada is often touted as a multicultural society. The last time I checked - fairly recently, by the way - Canada is still distinct from the United States and so the approach to different cultures here is supposedly to offer them a safe environment to practice their customs within the law of the land. The recent naqib controversy has stirred quite a bit on debate on this topic, but my point in bringing up multiculturalism here is that it is necessary to recognize that Christians (nominal or otherwise) may have built this country from settling it, Confederating it, and [] it, but they did so not so that it could be a safe haven for Christians only.
Much like our southern neighbours one of the ideas within the Canadian Bill of Rights and Freedoms is freedom of religion. Stephen Harper is a Christian. Sure. Okay. Dalton McGuinty is Catholic. Cool. Whatever. But the idea behind freedom of religion, at least in my own interpretation, is that explicit religion is to be removed from political policies. Religion - the governance of a soul - and politics - the governance of a people - are to be separate matters in that politicians recognize that their constituents are not necessarily all Catholics or Lutherans or Presbyterians or Jewsh or Muslim or Hindu. In this sense policies that keep Christmas and its vocabulary out of the public sphere of a community, or at the least out of a prominent place in that community are not meant as attacks on Christians by some sort of heathen governing body, but rather to remind Christians that there are other celebrations occurring in December that they should be mindful of.
I think that the idea that there is a variety of special events around the time of December also points to a major flaw in messages like "Keep Christ in Christmas." Those who don't celebrate Christmas, because they are of a different religion or of no religion at all, aren't going to care very much about keeping Christ in Christmas. Christians who acknowledge a nativity scene with a nod or a "that's nice," aren't going to need convincing. The signs, it seems to me, are not so much saying "Hey - keep Christ in your minds and hearts Everybody!" as they are "Hey you reading this sign, guess what - the people in this house/car are Christians." It's a kind of print form of the fire and brimstone which I hear in the voices of religious speakers in many debates and talks (for a good example of this listen to Rabbi Shemuly's tone in this debate with Christoper Hitchens at the 92nd Street Y a [listen<--Link] and compare it to his opponent's). Such a tone suggests that an ardent case is being enthusiastically made, but that enthusiasm does little to bring people who are diametrically oppossed to that stance, or completely unconcerned, into the fold. Moreover, this kind of tone does more damage than good in most debates because it puts the one using it in danger of sounding much less reasonable, while also potentially helping an opponent to seem calmer and more well-reasoned by comparison.
My next point comes in the form of an analogy, so brace yourselves.
It seems to me that religious expression that gets into people's faces or that politicians feel so uncomfortable with that they outright ban it from their communities, is a lot like a ball being tossed about violently by a group of kids. A parent comes along and takes away the ball saying something along the lines of "If you can't play nicely with the ball, you can't play with it at all." Just as the kids might feel slighted ("we were just playing!" "come on, just give us a chance!") the religious get upset and start to feel like they're being singled out (hello "War on Christmas"). But I think that taking the ball away is an effective measure. If one religious group is pushing their message in such a way that it seems to be encroaching on other religions, then no one should be able to push a message. Efforts and messages from governments should be secularized.
It's true that a tenets of many sects of Christianity is to go out and tell people the good news of Christ and such, but I think that an being an exemplary Christian is better than being one with some words for those who disagree or differ with you. This rings especially true today, since modern cynicism can be more easily circumvented by actions than by words. People can say anything, but they will only do what they truly believe and have convinced themselves is true. That conviction is what's necessary for Christians to follow their mandate to spread the word, and being vitriolic or pushy about their ball being taken away is much more harmful to their cause than simply putting up a nativity scene or writing "Merry Christmas" in lights on their house or in a window. People will get offended, but if the message doesn't carry the fire of "Keep Christ in Christmas" then those who are offended won't spit the same back.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
SFContario-Inspired Convention Musings
Conventions. If you have ever lived in a mid-sized city with a fair sized hotel you have probably seen signs for one sort of convention or another over the summer months. Psychic Expo. Philatelists United. Comic Books and Assorted Figurines. Niche markets, specific demographics, a bunch of people gathered together with similar interests that aim to concentrate on a single topic for the span of a few days. But is it worthwhile to go to a convention if you consider yourself a member of such a niche (or someone interested in becoming one)? Even a convention that might not boast the star power of something like the famed San Diego Comicon or a World Fantasy Convention? I have not been to a large convention for a while, but having recently gone to a smaller convention, I have been put into mind of convention going, and what these events can be all about. The smaller convention in question is SFContario 2, hosted in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.
Like most writing conventions, SFContario had plenty of books in its sales area (or dealer's room, in "con speak"). This is something of an aside, but because there are so many of them at writing conventions big and small, small press books need to be talked about. These books are generally fine, though sometimes their editing seems a bit slipshod, but what always bothers me about them is that their cover art is terrible. The somewhat generic, bad cgi effect used to create many of them just screams amateur to me. A lot of the covers also seem crowded, and it is generally the best covers that make the greatest use of empty space. In short, those books that don't show the books' characters standing in a dramatic pose appeal to me the most. After all, if I wanted a shot of main characters gazing out toward the viewer or some kind of middle distance, I would just find a cinema and walk around, admiring the posters. Just as I'm insistent on completing my Song of Ice and Fire collection without buying copies that are marked with "Watch the series on HBO" I prefer to keep the media of film and print separate. They use different methods to tell stories, and they have different strengths and weaknesses, which I may get into in a later entry.
Stepping outside the dealer's room of your standard writing convention, these meetings are basically made up of panels. On this point, I have to say that a smaller convention is likely to give better panels. Larger conventions can draw some very interesting and well-known guests, but something that often happens, especially in my experience, is that the star power of such prominent figures can often cast a glamour over a person who is new to conventions. This can lead to the need for a lot of gutsiness to ask a question during a panel, or to approach a panelist afterwards - both of which being very rewarding experiences. A smaller convention, on the other hand, has a feeling that is more similar to a small group workshop, where everyone is at least visibly familiar to everyone else, and the big stars are big stars within their niche, rather than at large. This difference is important, I think, because it makes the big names at a smaller convention approachable by the dedicated fan and curious newcomer alike. After all, the dedicated fan is already familiar with the niche star and their work, and to the newcomer the star is just another interesting panelist, with little to distinguish them from the average convention-goer except for an extra badge or ribbon on their chest
However, smaller conventions do mean smaller convention spaces. Again, this makes it easier to meet the same people over and over again, and thus build a sense of community, but it also means that things can be claustrophobic at times. Of course, larger conventions often have an opposite problem - plenty of space and also plenty of people which can at times make almost anyone feel a little agoraphobic. However, a common trait of any convention regardless of its size is the consuite, a room in which a convention will offer free food, beverages, and seating to all registered convention-goers. At a big convention where the sheer number of people can be overwhelming these consuites are great spaces in which to relax with a smaller crowd, and at smaller conventions these consuites are usually spacious enough to help restore a person's feeling of personal space.
Considering these aspects of conventions - the dealer's room, panels, and the consuite - I think that SFContario 2 was well worth the price of admission. The dealer's room was big enough for most of the author guests to set up shop in, the panels were particularly well done, and the consuite featured everything from chips to vegetables to cheese to Chinese takeout. Two extra notes about the panels, however. First, one panel in particular was incredibly interesting to me. This panel, called SFContario Idol, involved the anonymous submission of the first page of a novel or short story which would be read aloud judged by a panel of guest editors. The editors did mention that they were going to be more exacting than usual, but the fact that details like writing out sound effects or using individual words (such as "shards") were sometimes enough to discount a submission was really quite shocking to me. Granted, when one of the editors replied to another who expounded on the original disclaimer by saying that he would often receive 1000 submissions a month for approximately 10 spots in a magazine the stringency of the criteria made sense. Nonetheless, that panel alone made me glad that I attended.
The other point about panels that I want to raise is the matter of repetition. At the larger conventions that I went to often 30 of roughly 100 panels would be repeated from year to year. I can't confirm it just yet, having only ever gone to a smaller convention, I fear that this panel repetition would happen on a wider scale at these smaller dos. I can't confirm this, though, having only been to one small convention thus far, but I hope that I'm right only in the sense that university departments offer the same basic group of courses every year and professors give them a personal spin. Essentially, though if a similar proportion of panels are repeated at the very least a smaller convention has the greater benefit of fostering closer conversations between attendees and panelists. And for that, if you are interested in finding out more about your niche or interest rather than running out to pitch an idea/story to an agent (such things happen more often at bigger conventions), a smaller convention is probably a better place to start than a larger one.
And as per SFContario - I will definitely be heading back next year. A dealer's room that doesn't overshadow the rest of the convention, a hospitable consuite, and excellent, informative panels make this a great weekend of meeting other writers and editors and discussing the written word.
Like most writing conventions, SFContario had plenty of books in its sales area (or dealer's room, in "con speak"). This is something of an aside, but because there are so many of them at writing conventions big and small, small press books need to be talked about. These books are generally fine, though sometimes their editing seems a bit slipshod, but what always bothers me about them is that their cover art is terrible. The somewhat generic, bad cgi effect used to create many of them just screams amateur to me. A lot of the covers also seem crowded, and it is generally the best covers that make the greatest use of empty space. In short, those books that don't show the books' characters standing in a dramatic pose appeal to me the most. After all, if I wanted a shot of main characters gazing out toward the viewer or some kind of middle distance, I would just find a cinema and walk around, admiring the posters. Just as I'm insistent on completing my Song of Ice and Fire collection without buying copies that are marked with "Watch the series on HBO" I prefer to keep the media of film and print separate. They use different methods to tell stories, and they have different strengths and weaknesses, which I may get into in a later entry.
Stepping outside the dealer's room of your standard writing convention, these meetings are basically made up of panels. On this point, I have to say that a smaller convention is likely to give better panels. Larger conventions can draw some very interesting and well-known guests, but something that often happens, especially in my experience, is that the star power of such prominent figures can often cast a glamour over a person who is new to conventions. This can lead to the need for a lot of gutsiness to ask a question during a panel, or to approach a panelist afterwards - both of which being very rewarding experiences. A smaller convention, on the other hand, has a feeling that is more similar to a small group workshop, where everyone is at least visibly familiar to everyone else, and the big stars are big stars within their niche, rather than at large. This difference is important, I think, because it makes the big names at a smaller convention approachable by the dedicated fan and curious newcomer alike. After all, the dedicated fan is already familiar with the niche star and their work, and to the newcomer the star is just another interesting panelist, with little to distinguish them from the average convention-goer except for an extra badge or ribbon on their chest
However, smaller conventions do mean smaller convention spaces. Again, this makes it easier to meet the same people over and over again, and thus build a sense of community, but it also means that things can be claustrophobic at times. Of course, larger conventions often have an opposite problem - plenty of space and also plenty of people which can at times make almost anyone feel a little agoraphobic. However, a common trait of any convention regardless of its size is the consuite, a room in which a convention will offer free food, beverages, and seating to all registered convention-goers. At a big convention where the sheer number of people can be overwhelming these consuites are great spaces in which to relax with a smaller crowd, and at smaller conventions these consuites are usually spacious enough to help restore a person's feeling of personal space.
Considering these aspects of conventions - the dealer's room, panels, and the consuite - I think that SFContario 2 was well worth the price of admission. The dealer's room was big enough for most of the author guests to set up shop in, the panels were particularly well done, and the consuite featured everything from chips to vegetables to cheese to Chinese takeout. Two extra notes about the panels, however. First, one panel in particular was incredibly interesting to me. This panel, called SFContario Idol, involved the anonymous submission of the first page of a novel or short story which would be read aloud judged by a panel of guest editors. The editors did mention that they were going to be more exacting than usual, but the fact that details like writing out sound effects or using individual words (such as "shards") were sometimes enough to discount a submission was really quite shocking to me. Granted, when one of the editors replied to another who expounded on the original disclaimer by saying that he would often receive 1000 submissions a month for approximately 10 spots in a magazine the stringency of the criteria made sense. Nonetheless, that panel alone made me glad that I attended.
The other point about panels that I want to raise is the matter of repetition. At the larger conventions that I went to often 30 of roughly 100 panels would be repeated from year to year. I can't confirm it just yet, having only ever gone to a smaller convention, I fear that this panel repetition would happen on a wider scale at these smaller dos. I can't confirm this, though, having only been to one small convention thus far, but I hope that I'm right only in the sense that university departments offer the same basic group of courses every year and professors give them a personal spin. Essentially, though if a similar proportion of panels are repeated at the very least a smaller convention has the greater benefit of fostering closer conversations between attendees and panelists. And for that, if you are interested in finding out more about your niche or interest rather than running out to pitch an idea/story to an agent (such things happen more often at bigger conventions), a smaller convention is probably a better place to start than a larger one.
And as per SFContario - I will definitely be heading back next year. A dealer's room that doesn't overshadow the rest of the convention, a hospitable consuite, and excellent, informative panels make this a great weekend of meeting other writers and editors and discussing the written word.
Friday, November 11, 2011
The Title Itself
Coming at the tail end of maybe one of the most quoted passages of the bible outside of the words of Jesus himself, the verse from which this blog's title comes has always fascinated me.
"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face; now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." (1 Cor 13:12)
Maybe it's the concentration on knowledge, or maybe it's the simple explanation of the world we currently perceive and that which we could - of course with the Christian teleological worldview, will - see. For whatever reason this passage has always arrested my attention, and now I want to try to figure out why. So, following the general process of a close reading (looking at context, and then the passage itself), let's try to find out.
First, it comes after what I think is one of the most overly quoted passages of the bible: the list of what "love" (or, if you're reading the rockin' King James Version, "charity") is. I know that this passage is sweet at weddings and likely gone to by lovers in doubt, but it needs to be put to rest. The spirit of those words still seems true but their flesh is as worn as one who is forced to till by hand a 20 acre field everyday. So, to all of those looking for quotes about love for MC-ing duties or general talking into microphones at big gatherings, I implore you to look elsewhere. It's called "The Bible" because there was a time when it really was "The Book" - the only book in many people's libraries (possession, even). Don't let one worn passage be the scope of your wandering through it.
Anyway, looking at this passage a little more objectively, what can be said about it? At the base it begins as an indirect description of the power of charity, that even if you display all of these other virtues and knowledges but lack charity, your achievements are meaningless. Then it moves into a straight list with an easy lilting rhythm, the kind that can lull. And I think that this rhythm is important, because the opening may grab an audience's attention with its forceful "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal" (1 Cor 13:1), But then things grow more soothing after two verses of that indirect definition of charity. Verse 4 states clearly "Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up," (1 Cor 13:4) easing into a steady rhythm (here, of 10-7-12 syllabled statements). Then in verse 9, St. Paul breaks to explain knowledge and prophecy, and how they are only partial things. I think that it's significant that St. Paul does this in a markedly shorter statement than those that precede it. What this shortness lacks in a lumbering rhythm it makes up for with its spry repetition. And so we see a kind of return to the original firing up of the audience at hand, though in a much less confrontational way. Effectively then, before getting to what I consider the point of this passage, St. Paul has grabbed his readers' attention, lulled them along, and then reminded them of the seriousness of what he has to say.
Verse 10 gets into his prediction about when wholeness comes all things that are in part "shall be done away." A verse that I read as his vaunting upwards to where his point is. Running with this reading, the next verse, in which he uses an analogy of childhood and adulthood to describe the now and the then, is like his time in the air before landing at his point in verse 12. Transformation is emphasized here in verse 11, I think, because of the emphasis on the fuzzy present (a present that is grammatically the present, but as suggested by the analogy (and what follows) is more of a past) and a vague future as indicated by "when...then." The first indication of any temporal definitiveness comes at the beginning of verse 12 "For now...," when he lands firmly from the air, and has arrived at his point. What follows is a concluding verse which gives a clear indication that though faith, hope, and charity (interestingly the daughters of St. Sophia, which if, for some crackpot reason is translated from Greek would be St. Wisdom) "now abideth," charity is "the greatest of these" (1 Cor 13:13).
But to go back to verse 12. Along with the emphasis on knowledge and perception, this is also where things get stylistically cool.
"For now..." itself is very stylish, since instead of just being a terse "now," "For" gives it an added push; it gives it a kind of ramp by which the audience can climb aboard this "now," or if you like, can scrabble up the rock face on the opposite side of the precipice he just leapt. The statement that follows is sheer elegance, even in modern translations. There's just something really simply beautiful about shuffling an adverb to the end of a clause. "...we see through a glass, darkly." Not "we darkly see through a glass," or "we see darkly through a glass," but "we see through a glass, darkly." Almost like the Roman rhetoricians of Cicero's day, who advocated for the verb to be saved for the end of a sentence for the best effect, the full meaning of the statement isn't disclosed until the very end. I think that this helps to shed light on the whole passage's meaning since it does very little to diminish the knowledge and the prophecy which he has dismissed as being only partial. He isn't saying that it's a cracked glass, or a false one, but that it is simply "see[n] through...darkly." There are clouds in the knowledge, in the prophecies; there are things in there that cannot be clearly discerned. The comma which is used to separate "darkly" from the rest of the clause even imitates this statement's meaning on a prosodic level.
First within the statement "We see through a glass, darkly," the act of seeing through a glass is stated clearly without any punching up. But then, as if suggesting that the clouds are an after thought or something only noticed throught scrutiny, "darkly" is added in after the pause implied by the comma. Read aloud, and if assumed to be an as-it-happens narration, it sounds like the realization of the clouded state of perception dawns just as the glass is focused on.
Beyond its being an articulation of a failing of our current perception on some level there isn't a much grander meaning here, but this passage's delivery of the message is just so striking to me because of the way in which it is delivered. So calmly after the bluster and the listing. So placed that it seems like it is a moment, a statement, from when the glass is clear, but that moment is fleeting and so the author can only fall back on his meditations on charity for his conclusion. After, of course, pausing when realizing that the glass is seen through darkly. A moment of clarity so brief that it is obscured before it can even be exploited.
So in brief, the context in which the passage in question is found is that of a capstone, if you will. A kind of rhetorical high point climbed to first through somewhat violent pushing, and then gentle coaxing, and finally a clarifying climb to where things are sussed out and explained and where they plateau with the passage in question before gently sloping down to the conclusion about those three virtues and charity being their chief.
So what does that matter? Well, it matters because it's the point in the passage where the least effort really need be exerted. Already St. Paul has brought his audience up to where he wanted them, and so he just has to deliver the message. The directness of that message being offset by "For now...," a very direct opener in and of itself. The fact that the glass is seen through darkly should also be read back into the oh-so-precious list about charity/love as well. If we keep in mind that things as we see them are dim, then I think that there are some suggestions that charity or love do not have to be conscious acts or beliefs, but should be read as modes of acting, mindsets in a sense. A deed done from knowledge with or without charity is, on the face of it, the same act. But add charity to the mind of the person doing that act and something changes - a subtle gesture, an extra tone to a word - and that changes the perception of the act. Read as a whole, I would argue that this passage isn't so much about charity being patient, kind, etc, but that charity is a kind of way to get glimpses through a clear glass.
This verse is ecstatic and grammatical. And I love it. But, like a climb up a mountainside to see a sunrise or to drink from a spring, you've got to get dirty to really enjoy it.
"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face; now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." (1 Cor 13:12)
Maybe it's the concentration on knowledge, or maybe it's the simple explanation of the world we currently perceive and that which we could - of course with the Christian teleological worldview, will - see. For whatever reason this passage has always arrested my attention, and now I want to try to figure out why. So, following the general process of a close reading (looking at context, and then the passage itself), let's try to find out.
First, it comes after what I think is one of the most overly quoted passages of the bible: the list of what "love" (or, if you're reading the rockin' King James Version, "charity") is. I know that this passage is sweet at weddings and likely gone to by lovers in doubt, but it needs to be put to rest. The spirit of those words still seems true but their flesh is as worn as one who is forced to till by hand a 20 acre field everyday. So, to all of those looking for quotes about love for MC-ing duties or general talking into microphones at big gatherings, I implore you to look elsewhere. It's called "The Bible" because there was a time when it really was "The Book" - the only book in many people's libraries (possession, even). Don't let one worn passage be the scope of your wandering through it.
Anyway, looking at this passage a little more objectively, what can be said about it? At the base it begins as an indirect description of the power of charity, that even if you display all of these other virtues and knowledges but lack charity, your achievements are meaningless. Then it moves into a straight list with an easy lilting rhythm, the kind that can lull. And I think that this rhythm is important, because the opening may grab an audience's attention with its forceful "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal" (1 Cor 13:1), But then things grow more soothing after two verses of that indirect definition of charity. Verse 4 states clearly "Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up," (1 Cor 13:4) easing into a steady rhythm (here, of 10-7-12 syllabled statements). Then in verse 9, St. Paul breaks to explain knowledge and prophecy, and how they are only partial things. I think that it's significant that St. Paul does this in a markedly shorter statement than those that precede it. What this shortness lacks in a lumbering rhythm it makes up for with its spry repetition. And so we see a kind of return to the original firing up of the audience at hand, though in a much less confrontational way. Effectively then, before getting to what I consider the point of this passage, St. Paul has grabbed his readers' attention, lulled them along, and then reminded them of the seriousness of what he has to say.
Verse 10 gets into his prediction about when wholeness comes all things that are in part "shall be done away." A verse that I read as his vaunting upwards to where his point is. Running with this reading, the next verse, in which he uses an analogy of childhood and adulthood to describe the now and the then, is like his time in the air before landing at his point in verse 12. Transformation is emphasized here in verse 11, I think, because of the emphasis on the fuzzy present (a present that is grammatically the present, but as suggested by the analogy (and what follows) is more of a past) and a vague future as indicated by "when...then." The first indication of any temporal definitiveness comes at the beginning of verse 12 "For now...," when he lands firmly from the air, and has arrived at his point. What follows is a concluding verse which gives a clear indication that though faith, hope, and charity (interestingly the daughters of St. Sophia, which if, for some crackpot reason is translated from Greek would be St. Wisdom) "now abideth," charity is "the greatest of these" (1 Cor 13:13).
But to go back to verse 12. Along with the emphasis on knowledge and perception, this is also where things get stylistically cool.
"For now..." itself is very stylish, since instead of just being a terse "now," "For" gives it an added push; it gives it a kind of ramp by which the audience can climb aboard this "now," or if you like, can scrabble up the rock face on the opposite side of the precipice he just leapt. The statement that follows is sheer elegance, even in modern translations. There's just something really simply beautiful about shuffling an adverb to the end of a clause. "...we see through a glass, darkly." Not "we darkly see through a glass," or "we see darkly through a glass," but "we see through a glass, darkly." Almost like the Roman rhetoricians of Cicero's day, who advocated for the verb to be saved for the end of a sentence for the best effect, the full meaning of the statement isn't disclosed until the very end. I think that this helps to shed light on the whole passage's meaning since it does very little to diminish the knowledge and the prophecy which he has dismissed as being only partial. He isn't saying that it's a cracked glass, or a false one, but that it is simply "see[n] through...darkly." There are clouds in the knowledge, in the prophecies; there are things in there that cannot be clearly discerned. The comma which is used to separate "darkly" from the rest of the clause even imitates this statement's meaning on a prosodic level.
First within the statement "We see through a glass, darkly," the act of seeing through a glass is stated clearly without any punching up. But then, as if suggesting that the clouds are an after thought or something only noticed throught scrutiny, "darkly" is added in after the pause implied by the comma. Read aloud, and if assumed to be an as-it-happens narration, it sounds like the realization of the clouded state of perception dawns just as the glass is focused on.
Beyond its being an articulation of a failing of our current perception on some level there isn't a much grander meaning here, but this passage's delivery of the message is just so striking to me because of the way in which it is delivered. So calmly after the bluster and the listing. So placed that it seems like it is a moment, a statement, from when the glass is clear, but that moment is fleeting and so the author can only fall back on his meditations on charity for his conclusion. After, of course, pausing when realizing that the glass is seen through darkly. A moment of clarity so brief that it is obscured before it can even be exploited.
So in brief, the context in which the passage in question is found is that of a capstone, if you will. A kind of rhetorical high point climbed to first through somewhat violent pushing, and then gentle coaxing, and finally a clarifying climb to where things are sussed out and explained and where they plateau with the passage in question before gently sloping down to the conclusion about those three virtues and charity being their chief.
So what does that matter? Well, it matters because it's the point in the passage where the least effort really need be exerted. Already St. Paul has brought his audience up to where he wanted them, and so he just has to deliver the message. The directness of that message being offset by "For now...," a very direct opener in and of itself. The fact that the glass is seen through darkly should also be read back into the oh-so-precious list about charity/love as well. If we keep in mind that things as we see them are dim, then I think that there are some suggestions that charity or love do not have to be conscious acts or beliefs, but should be read as modes of acting, mindsets in a sense. A deed done from knowledge with or without charity is, on the face of it, the same act. But add charity to the mind of the person doing that act and something changes - a subtle gesture, an extra tone to a word - and that changes the perception of the act. Read as a whole, I would argue that this passage isn't so much about charity being patient, kind, etc, but that charity is a kind of way to get glimpses through a clear glass.
This verse is ecstatic and grammatical. And I love it. But, like a climb up a mountainside to see a sunrise or to drink from a spring, you've got to get dirty to really enjoy it.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Foreward to an Introduction
Despite what you may see before you this is not the first post. It is definitely at the top now, and as this blog carries on will always be at the bottom. But it is not the first post.
That post, like winter, is coming.
That post will tell you more about this blog and its purpose. This post is just masquerading as something important. Just getting some practice in before it counts.
The real first post will be up in less than a week. Posts will regularly find their way here early in the week after the beginnings of a rhythm are beaten out. Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Once the professional, once the first post gets here (and relieves its understudy) things will be clearer.
Until then, we'll all just have to look through a glass darkly.
That post, like winter, is coming.
That post will tell you more about this blog and its purpose. This post is just masquerading as something important. Just getting some practice in before it counts.
The real first post will be up in less than a week. Posts will regularly find their way here early in the week after the beginnings of a rhythm are beaten out. Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Once the professional, once the first post gets here (and relieves its understudy) things will be clearer.
Until then, we'll all just have to look through a glass darkly.
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