Beginnings of a music plot

Christmasfest was good times. A great variety of roast beasts were involved. I'm going to have to go into the liqueur-making business.

I didn't realize you can take some theory classes by correspondence. I also didn't realize that you can get an ARCT in composition and/or theory. Here's the requirements for the Comp & Theory combined ARCT:

1. 3-hour exam in each of the following courses: Renaissance Counterpoint; Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint I; Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint II; Classical Harmony and Counterpoint; Romantic and Post-Romantic Harmony and Counterpoint; Post-1900 Composition Techniques; Orchestration I; Orchestration II; Analysis; History I; History II; Ear Test.
2. Three compositions and one 5000-word research paper.
3. Viva Voce oral defense of work submitted in Part 2.
4. Also must have the pre- and co-requisites of harmony, history, counterpoint, and analysis.

I think I've got me a new project. Right after I finish the Performance ARCT, or maybe I'll work on as much theory as possible now... you only have 5 years to finish all the requirements for the ARCT after you write the first exam, and with so many exams in Part 1 of the Comp/Theory designation it would take a lot of concentrated study. Certainly not while I'm doing my Master's.

So I'm thinking I'll do the 2 remaining exams for Performance ARCT theory co-requisites this year (I do believe that I could be ready to write the exams in August), take a couple years to get back into the vocal groove, and do that ARCT. And then maybe, maybe, I can do up the necessaries to tack on the teacher's ARCT, but I doubt it. And then, when I can afford the time, I'll tackle the Composition/Theory ARCT. But that's a lot of exams, plus three compositions (one piece has to be for orchestra—I've only done the slightest of orchestration), plus a fairly lengthy research paper which shouldn't be too much of a problem but then again maybe it will.

This is the plan. What it will gain me in the end is slightly unclear, as always. I'm fine with that; the more degrees/designations the merrier. I was sad I didn't complete my BFA, but this is an alternate route that I've actually been working on since I was 13 without realizing it.

Speaking of music, I completed the score of Rhine but it will have to wait to be posted. Stupid Finale doesn't export MIDI and I can't find my disk to install it on my Mac, so I tried to scan the printouts and it's so bad that the staves have only three lines. But there you have it. At least now I have a copy of it. Hey... could this count as my solo instrument composition? Probably it has to be way better. Ah well, all in good time. I'll get to compose a choral piece too (choral or chamber, that is, but I'm a choral sort of person—ever since NYC I've wanted to compose like Whitacre).

Christmas songs are crap

Sii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-lent Ni-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ght.
Ho-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ly Ni-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ght.

Kate and I were reminiscing about how Christmas songs these days are crap, and the only stipulation seems to be that you have to drag out each syllable for ~9 seconds. Except for the awesome rock medley, where they must have a drum machine going. I am a poor boy too PA RUM PA PUM PUM!!! [bff-bff-bff-BFF! bff-bff-bff-BFF!] ... 'TIS! the season to be jolly, FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA! LA! LA! So harsh it's great.

Tomorrow is "Christmas" for my immediate family (excepting my brother). I can guess what I'm getting! (I bought and wrapped the presents, after all. To Megan. Merry Christmas.)

My favourite Christmas image: Brent and Hank pulling at opposite ends of an aluminum Christmas tree à la tug-of-war (Brent wants to take it back home because it's his; Hank wants be the good samaritan and take it to the dump). As it is yanked in twain, Wanda gazes heavenward: "God bless us, every one." Yes indeedy.

Either that or I just wanted to say "twain."

All I can say is there had better be some darn epic Boxing Day Celebrations (which would take place on the 24th, naturally, with the 23rd being Christmas—or "X-mas" as [I'm guessing] the makers of certain comic book movies will likely soon advertise it as. An X-Men X-Mas. I'd better get credit when that movie comes out.)

It occurs to me that I haven't been drunk in a very very long time. I should remedy that.

I kind of have butterflies, well not so much butterflies as an awful gut-wrenching feeling of uneasiness and disappoinment. fa la la la la

The Magic of Migraines

This is where I usually get titles for songs and poems. I almost settled for cattalo for my new jazz song. "Exeunt Cattalo" (titter titter—Julie-Anne was admiring my tittering the other day). Better than "Bootless Beetle-Headed Barnacle." Shakespeare is not a good source for titles. Nothing beats a random generator. On that note, there are two new songs and two new recordings of old ones. I think all the static I used to wrestle with was produced entirely by the Luther Chapel, because my recordings at home were pretty good (other than the piano not being great, but I almost like it better than Luther's).

Zumanity's publicist (i.e. the guy I had to send my last article to for review/editing) is named John McCoy. I find that amusing. He liked my article and wants me to send 2 copies of it to him in Las Vegas!

I am now a New Blogger blogger, as opposed to an Old Moldy Blogger blogger. You should be too. All you need is a google account, which—I like to say this whenever I can—if you're normal you should already have.

The (semi)final migraine diagnosis: learn to live with it. I will (maybe) stop complaining about it at least until the summer.

Mēgan's Guide To Living With It

• Eat if you get hungry.
• Never take a nap. If you must take one, for god's sake close the blind and turn on a fan. Better yet: go outside. If it's winter, shovel some snow. If it's summer, jump in the nearest pond.
• Always do your stretches.
• Ibuprofen and Acetaminopen both come in quick-release gel-cap form. They won't help you anyway though.
• Migraine-strength ibuprofen is doubly strong as the regular kind; you should therefore not take the maximum daily dose that you dimly recall being on the regular bottle if you have the stronger kind. Especially not every day. Your stomach will hate you forever.
• Always carry an emergency pill if you leave the house. Even if you're only going to be gone for a couple hours, even if you feel fabulous, even if you've felt fabulous for the entire week. Keep it in your pocket—your pants pocket—so that you'll have it when you need it. It's just going to be useless in your jacket.
• Don't stop taking preventative pills, even if you start feeling fine all the time. Especially if you feel fine all the time, because that's what they (allegedly and occasionally) do, they make you feel fine.
• If your temple feels like it's going to explode, it is probably more likely to explode than if it didn't feel that way. So make it stop feeling that way as soon as possible.
• Don't think that just because you've had it for 2 days it will probably go away if you tough it out for another couple days. It won't. Eat the damn poison. What are you saving it for if not for moments like this?
• Make your doctor prescribe something you know will work. After all, you're the one paying through the nose for semi-normal life; they should give you what's necessary.
• Reiki's a bunch of bullshit. Don't bother with it. "The platelets on your head are out of alignment, that's why you're getting this pain. I'll just put them back in place." Or, my personal favourite: "Purple is associated with energy of the head. Here, I'll give you this purple glowstick. When you get a headache, look at it and your headache will go away."

Freelancin'

One last article to go, then I will be done with deadlines and interviews and all that jazz. One benefit of freelancing is that I sometimes get to talk to interesting people. The final article is about an alumnus who is in Cirque du Soleil. Hmm, that's kind of neat, I think to myself. Turns out I got to interview Canada's world-famous clown Izzy. Pretty darn neat. The surprising thing is that I actually have heard of her before. But I still don't have enough words!

• :0 My goodness, so much free sheet music here. They don't have Liszt's Vallee d'Oberman but I've finally located it elsewhere. Someday I will obtain it and learn to play it.


• mobius bottle!! In one end and out the other... to infinity! I like their suggestion for cleaning it: "Expose the water (but not the glass) to a beam of pure antimatter."


• Ich bin ein Kaboodler. From which you may notice there's a new lapsura store. (For future expansion or elimination.)

Who's There?

I just discovered that my great-grandmother was a Russian princess. Which means you should do as I say.

Knock knock.

Fed Up

Can you believe it? I'm actually sick of watching π.

Argh, I should have been done this blasted article today... My head is so throbbing and I can't think of anything else to write but I still don't have the word count I need. If I make it any more wordy it'll be obvious. Ugh, who's the idiot that invented pain? I don't mind if it's useful, like ow don't touch that it's hot type of pain, or quit bumping your shins on everything you clumsy oaf type of pain. This is just a big waste of time and life.

I ask you, what kind of advice is "oh just go to emergency when you get them"? Yes, just go to emergency, where you'll wait for five hours (on a good day) under those lights that say "BBBBBZZZZZZ!!!" and the smell of hospital (bad place if you've got a touch of nausea). If you're lucky, you can increase the wait time of everybody else and prevent someone with a real emergency from getting timely attention. Do this roughly twice a week? No thanks, I spent my one and only emergency visit with my head between my knees, trying hard not to throw up or feel bitter towards the guy in handcuffs escorted by police who got in right away because he was bleeding all over, then the nurse screwed up both my hands trying to put in an IV ("Oh look, I missed your vein again. You can tell because, see this here, your hand is filling up with the fluid." "I CAN SEE THAT, TAKE IT OUT!!!").

Failed treatments to date: many many. Yes I cower in the dark wearing sunglasses and earplugs. Precioussss. Apparently my pounding temples and I are 10 times more likely to have a stroke. I'm not sure compared to who. Maybe Gollum.

These stupid surveys...

Very frosty. Char keeps peering in the window. I can't sleep.

According to my calculations, my last piano lesson was Dec. 15, 2001. From my mom. Before that, my last lesson with another teacher was in May of that year. And then two days ago I resumed them. Well, mostly I just learn it myself, with my mom saying "now play this scale", "four-note chords will fix that", "you mean you memorized that all since yesterday?" I find it necessary to memorize things so that I can look at my fingers at all times. Technique still needs much work, but less than it would have taken all those years ago. I've also somehow picked up the ability to sight-read partially satisfactorily, something that I had a heck of a problem with back then.

I seem to learn better on my own. It's like my gr. 4 music history exam, for which I perused a textbook for two weeks, crammed for two weeks more, then pretty much transcribed the textbook into the exam, for which I got a 94. You can bet I wouldn't have gotten through all the material if I had actually taken it from a theory teacher.

Now really, all I need is gr. 5 history (I can learn that on my own no problem) and gr. 5 analysis (a month at most), work up my vocal technique, review the scales and learn the new ones, breeze over intervals (my ear training prof always got mad at me: "How can you name thee eenterval vithout even tinking about it?! You say eet before I am feenished playink!"), learn some ditties, do up the ARCT. That's a handful.

These things are always the same. Why do I get them all the time?

1. What is your occupation? right now, freelancer.
2. What color are your socks right now? my what?
3. What are you listening to right now? no, not at the moment.
4. What was the last thing that you ate? a BAGELLL, bagellybagellybagelly (from the bagel store, too! the only one left in Regina)
5. Can you drive a stick shift? Yes, but not so much in a city. Out here, just fine.
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? neon orange
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? somebody's secretary named Ellen. How do they expect me to interview people on two days' notice? People always say "well, I could talk to you late next week, if you want." "um, my deadline's this friday."
8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? I think the real question is, why do I get these every single day?
9. How old are you today? ~22
10. Favorite drink? mojito (the kind you get at a refreshment store, not the kind I make myself)
11. What is your favorite sport to watch? something extreme. uphill curling comes to mind. realistically, maybe bobsledding.
12. Have you ever dyed your hair? a couple times, temporarily, for halloween, long ago
14. Pets? a cat (Char) and a horde of llamas
15. Favourite food? anything but croast, and not most sauces.
16. What was the last movie you saw? Amistad. I highly recommend it, as in, if you haven't seen it, go watch it. right now.
17. What is your favourite time of day? late at night is when my mind works at full capacity.
18. What do you do to vent anger? storm out of the house and hide somewhere in the hills. It doesn't happen too often.
19. What was your favourite toy as a child? good ol' sega genesis. I am queen of streetfighter!
20. What is your favourite Fall or Spring? both, but not winter or summer.
22. Cherry or Blueberry? hey, where's #21?
23. Do you want your friends to email you back? what are you talking about? This is a blog, not an email-booth. People don't come here to talk on the phone.
24. Who is most likely to respond? nonsense, all nonsense
25. Who is least likely to respond? you're crazy
26. Living arrangements? on my parents' farm
27. When was the last time you cried? HAHAHA!
28. What is on the floor of your closet? binders of university classwork
29. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending this to? again with the nonsense
30. What did you do last night? sure didn't sleep
31. Favourite smells? mmmmmmm crayon smell. no, just kidding.
32. What inspires you? people and what they do (not all people, mind you)
34. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? I saw a menu the other day that said "pain burger." I've never tried that kind. I bet it's tasty. And where's #33?
35. Country you would most like to visit? so many, where to start? England, New Zealand, France, Germany, Switzerland...
36. Favourite dog breed? I don't know much about dogs, just that my llamas kill them. Ryan's dog is my favorite of all time.
37. Number of keys on your key ring? my what?
38. How many years at your current job? just started, it comes and goes.
39. Favourite day of the week? they're all the same
40. How many Provinces have you lived in? one
41. Favourite holidays? the ones with gatherings

Burninating all those thatched-roof cottages

I love fire. You can erase a lot with fire. I've been going through my room getting rid of things, partly because I won't be hanging around doing nothing forever and I should really put things in order, partly because it's too cluttered to really do anything, and partly because I want to get rid of certain things and put everything in order before I have a stroke or something. Does anyone want a sheaf of drawings? Or perhaps a chapbook full of nonsense poems and old library drawings? No? INTO THE FIRE WITH THEM! (I am not an arsonist, I just find it fascinating that something can disappear forever. It's like toasters: you put in bread, and out comes toast. Where does the bread go?? Beats me.)

This was a new one for me: "This folder contains items whose name is too long for the Recycle Bin."

Christmas is so close... This will be the first year ever that all my siblings won't be together. It'll be a ... Christmas Miracle. Christmas has traditionally been my worst time of year: finals stress, good ol' winter depression, last year's fun times at the emergency. Hopefully most of that is school-related, and it will be the best Christmas ever.

41. stop being such a sarcastard
42. learn to play the guitar/violin/cello
43. get my gr. 10 piano

Day Without Art

Today is World AIDS Day. At the U of R, the Visual Arts department also booked an entire hallway in which they've set up for a Day Without Art. I won't get to see what it's all about though—I wonder how the Visual Arts dept will display a Day Without Art. Intriguing.

I saw a goose flying north today. It's snowing too darn much. I hate snow, but I'll at least allow it to be on the ground. But it should never be in the air.

Yesterday was productive, despite only fractional neck mobility and total lack of will to live (I'd forgotten how debilitating migraines can be). I fixed my laptop, finished my article... OK, here's where I really do kick myself for quitting J-school. Turned out not everyone was disinclined to be interviewed, and the rest of my contacts were great, plus I learned a thing or two about what's involved in book publishing. Most importantly of all, the magazine loved my article. I passed freelancing initiation!

40 before 40

My 40 before 40 list (in the order they occurred to me):

1. marry man of my dreams
   
2. write a book
   
3. record an album
   
4. design a garden
   
5. open a coffe-type shop/art gallery
   
6. become a photographer
   
7. get my ARCT
   
8. live in a city
   
9. get published
   
10. become a stage actor
    
11. travel in Europe
    
12. work on a cruise ship
    
13. get my MA
    
14. complete a PhD
    
15. get a pet (a smart one, like a raven that says "nevermore" or a raccoon or a dog or cat)
    
16. paint paintings
    
17. outgrow migraines
    
18. complete a degree in astronomy
    
19. learn Anglo-Saxon
    
20. become fluent in French
    
21. wander around Paris
    
22. read all the books I own
    
23. travel across Canada by train
    
24. compose choral music
    
25. build a dolmen in my back yard
    
26. own a house
    
27. learn calculus
    
28. work in a greenhouse
    
29. grow a bonsai
    
30. climb a mountain
    
31. be in an opera
    
32. build a theremin (and learn to play it)
    
33. go to the spa
    
34. go to Tibet
    
35. take Tai Chi
    
36. see a solar eclipse
    
37. design clothing
    
38. publish academic paper(s)
    
39. help excavate the Herculaneum library
    
40. visit the Paris Catacombs
    

Shirking? They pay you for that?

• congratulations to me

I'm impressed with the new IE—it even has tabbed browsing. And the first level of my drop-down menus work on it! If you refuse to get Firefox, you should at least upgrade your IE. Drawings have now been converted to the new style.

The last couple weeks have not been busy, but there have been a few things I needed to take care of, like SSHRCing and grad-school-applying. Both of those could probably have been wrapped up in a single week, but the SSHRC took inconceivably long (and just when I thought I was all applied, they sent my application back for me to mull over), and grad school wants several things that I'll have to think about. For one, they want a lengthy essay written in the last 12 months. Unfortunately, the last few English classes I've taken were the rushy, summer-type, where they don't make you write long essays, plus I was working full-time as well so any essays I did write aren't too inspired (except for my Crakespeare essay where I refuted everything the prof asserted—masterpiece!). Too bad I decided to take "fun" classes like astronomy, physics, and music in my last full semester. Well, I don't think it's too bad; that was the best semester ever. But other than the essay (and a statement of intent, and a resume), grad school is pretty much applied for.

I hate how much I struggle with this grad studies thing; if I'm so unsure I want to do a Master's in English, isn't it obvious it's the wrong route to take? But I'm not so sure I'll hate it anymore. I would have enjoyed my summer classes if I had had time to do the reading and understand what was going on. And it's only two years, one of which (hopefully, granted they let me do a thesis program) will be almost entirely my own research on something "interesting" (I put it in quotation marks because, while I do find it interesting, most people wouldn't. I hate it when people ask me to explain my research proposal; I feel like I should be apologizing profusely for wasting their time by explaining it, which is probably why I come across as being unenthused about it). And I'll have a Master's degree at the end. But I really am getting excited about grad studies, and maybe even about doing english-related work after I'm done it. Mostly I'm just afraid of not liking it, afraid of wasting so much time on it. But hey, what have I been doing the last three months if not wasting time?

One reason for my renewed enthusiasm is that I got a freelance writing job. I had hoped to do the research and writing all month, but found out that I only have a week to get my article in. Here's where I should kick myself for quitting J-school—interviewing is not my strong point (and I just discovered today what it's like to interview people who don't want you to waste their time). But I'm not sorry I quit J-school either. Anyways, with any luck this will be the only article I'll be writing.

In fact, I really don't regret any of my university-related choices. I got a little bit of everything, and if I didn't end up focussing on my favourite aspect, well it's really not too late. I can't decide on one thing anyway, but I no longer feel like I have to—I'll just do everything. And I'm excited to start doing it.

Maybe in the new year.

My new hat

Yess! I get a goose on my head! On an unrelated topic, has anyone heard any good paradoxes lately?

Geb Engaging personality, sensitive, modest, occasionally narcissistic, but can rise above vanity. Colors: male: violet, female: rose Compatible Signs:Set, Horus Dates: Feb 12 - Feb 29, Aug 20 - Aug 31 Role: God of the earth Appearance: Green-skinned man, with leaves all over his body and a goose on his head. Sometimes he was shown laying on his side under his wife, the sky goddess Nut. Sacred animals: goose What is Your Egyptian Zodiac Sign?

What's the dl with hunting?

Today is Day 436 of the Sobey's strike. It's hard to believe they've been picketing that long.

The other day I was walking across the fields and I stumbled upon three deer. The first thought that goes through my mind when that happens around this time of year is, "oh crap... is it hunting season?" Because it could very well be the last thought that goes through your mind. I stood there for about 10 minutes, watching them, until they got impatient and started stamping their feet and coming closer to see if I would move. I always know it's hunting season when my dad gets out the binoculars and looks for poachers.

I don't get hunting. I don't understand the mindset that it's fun to kill things. I can understand if people hunt for meat, and extra points for use of bow and arrows. But is it really a "sport" where you sit around with guns and see who can kill the least-suspecting animal? That's like competetive sitting, except with guns.

A few years ago my dad had the crosshairs of a hunter's scope pointed at him. That could have been terribly devastating. Another time, some hunters followed the schoolbus to my house and, when I emerged from the bus, said "There are some deer down in the creek, can we go shoot them?" My response: "?? Those are my llamas!!!" Besides which, it's hard to miss the "Wildlife Sanctuary! No Tresspassing! Permission Required for Access!" signs all over. So I think I'm justified in not liking hunting.

I know as well as anybody that too many deer cause problems. Heck, I spent many years wiring hundreds of trees so that deer wouldn't destroy them. Some years two hundred deer would lounge around in our back yard. Then there was the winter of the deer virus (whatever it was) where they were dropping like flies all over. I remember one day when two were laying by the llama barn, and I walked right up to them and looked them in the eye but they were too sick to move. Later that day I helped pile up and burn over 50 deer carcasses that were scattered around the farm. I seem to remember some people lamenting that the virus was making for poor hunting that year. Oh, how terrible for you hunters; the deer are dying off faster than you can kill them. And I guess deer are bad news when you run into them on the road and they come through your windshield and kick your head in to mush, but as far as I know that's only happened once within living memory around here.

As much as I dislike hunting, I can at least tolerate it (unlike poaching, I might add). After all, my brother and I made good money one year when we combed all the nearby sloughs for fallen antlers (it involved a fair amount of rafting down the Wascana), and sold them to a local taxidermist. But taxidermy too I can't quite fathom. Who wants dead animals standing in their basement, or stuffed heads hanging on their walls? That's as creepy as the guy who had himself stuffed after his death. Or almost.

Unravel the Injustice

Friday's Unravel the Injustice evening went well. I didn't get much of a chance to hear the speakers or watch the sweatshop presentation during the first half, because I was helping keep the models backstage organized. But, I did sneak out during the second half to listen to the keynote speaker Shirley Klassen talk about the effects of NAFTA in Mexico.

So 1994 was the year the North American Free Trade Agreement was signed, which was basically the FTA extended to Mexico. It was also the year of the Mexican Peso crisis. Maquiladoras are manufacturing zones in Mexico. Under NAFTA, thousands of jobs disappeared from Canada and the US to Mexico, and sweatshop jobs were created where workers earned US$50 per week. Good paying service sector jobs disappeared because of privatization. In order to allow NAFTA, the Mexican government changed the constitution to allow foreign ownership of indigenous lands, and that ownership went to transnationals. Roads, education, and healthcare were privatized when the government simply removed services; the services were eventually brought back through American contracts and privatization. The control of the military also went to transnationals. Now all crops are of genetically modified seed. Railways, which were once for people, are now privatized and only for the transportation of goods.

Mexicans were forced off their rural lands into urban centres; many squat in colonia—shanty towns that grow in the toxic wastelands created by manufacturing. Piles of toxic waste sit beside people’s houses. According to the statement of a member of a delegation who visited a colonia, the Rio Grande was a toxic soup where people fished. Fish are found floating dead, some are mutated, and when they are cut open are blackened inside. For the Mexicans, the choice was simple: “eat this now and die later, or don’t eat anything and die now.” The delegate also mentioned that the stench of the Rio Grande alone made one of the other delegates vomit. And, when asked why they chose to live in the toxic areas, Mexicans said that they had no choice; they had been forced off their lands, and nobody bothered them here.

Chapter 11 of NAFTA allows corporations and individuals to sue governments. My friend Wikipedia tells me here that "Metalclad, an American corporation, was awarded US$15.6 million from Mexico after a Mexican municipality refused a construction permit for the hazardous waste landfill it intended to construct in El Llano, Aguascalientes." Does anybody else think NAFTA doesn't really benefit people?

Coalition for Justice in the Maquiladoras

Facebook

Calloo callay, tra la la la! Ah, things are looking up. Wooo! That's right, I said "woo" without a "t." Now if that isn't a paradox, I don't know what is.

The forum has a new strategy: you should post. Check it out here, and do let me know if you want to be able to post. Do.

[P.S. drawings will be semi-weekly rather than daily (or rather than never, as per recently)]

If you're on facebook, then you should add me. If you're not, then you should be.

Lest We Forget

"Lest we forget" is the catchphrase around this time of year. It comes from Rudyard Kipling's 1897 poem "Recessional." Obviously, he didn't have the World Wars in mind at that early date (actually, maybe he did; he predicted that the Boer War was just a skirmish and the most important war of all time was yet to come in the early 20th century. But this poem is not about that). My best prof happened to be a Kipling expert, so this is what I learned from her.

First, you need to know a few things about Imperialism and Kipling's view of it. Kipling spent a good portion of his life in India, where he was born. He must have seen the toll Imperialism had on colonized peoples. At a time when Imperialism happened in faraway places that ordinary people didn't see, it was easy to turn a blind eye towards its effects, or just not know about them. Rudyard Kipling knew. He knew that Imperialism was one of the ugliest things there is. And yet, he felt that it was necessary; apalling, but necessary. The same went for war in general; there was nothing glorious about it (many people at the time were suckered into the notion, though), but it was necessary. The "lest we forget" enters here: as necessary as war and Imperialism were, Kipling felt that it was of vital importance that we always remember the cost it exacted.

And what was that cost? Interestingly enough, not the sacrifice that soldiers make in going to war. Rather, it was the sacrifice we make of our soldiers. It is our duty to know why that sacrifice was made, and why it is important. One other interesting point: "lest we forget" is, I think, now linked to the general idea that soldiers fight for peace. Kipling, though, believed that soldiers died for freedom, not for peace (remember, war is necessary and you can't get rid of it). What he despairs of is that the sacrifice we have made of others will be rendered faceless.

Others didn't share Kipling's views. In 1899, for example, Robert Buchanan accused Kipling of "hooliganism" (sounds almost like soccer). Buchanan thought Imperialism itself was a noble goal, and shouldn't acknowledge the nature of its own project. We shouldn't know the cost that Imperialism exacts.

From the 1890s on, Kipling's work predicted an English war with Germany. That coming war, Kipling felt, was the war that mattered. Kipling believed that Britain was unprepared for such a war—and they were. He believed that the treatment of ordinary soldiers would put them at risk—and it did. The crazy prevailing view was that soldiers were too stupid to do anything other than walk forwards in rows. We all know how that turned out. Here's the last bit of Kipling's poem "Tommy":

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country," when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool — you bet that Tommy sees!

HIST 390BP

I couldn't find my Paris/Berlin travel journal for about a year, but yesterday I accidentally discovered it. In the drawer I now remember putting it in. It's funny reading what I thought was important to write down:

• "I had 'canard avec pomme'—duck and potatoes (not apples)—and some French lady asked me to dance, but I was highly embarrassed and declined."
• "We each had to pay €2 for 'musique', which wasn't very good. The lady liked to sing off-key (Germani said he had been there 20 years earlier and the entertainment had been the same). The rest of us played games that penalized the dull-witted. Bredohl lost this game, he couldn't figure out that Julia was describing him when she said 'patent leather shoes, purse.'"
• "The S-Bahn had technical difficulties, and there happened to be a soccer game, so you can imagine the soccer hooligans piling on the U-Bahn (the one headed for Olympic Stadium)."
• "Breakfast is fantastic in this hotel. Did I mention that yesterday I paid €2 to honk a homeless man's bicycle horn, then got a 'free' homeless paper for doing so?" [I still have to learn German so I can read it]
• "Germani is terribly out of his element in Berlin. Yesterday he stepped on a snail and then a dog sneezed on his foot. Today he poured coffee all over the tablecloth. At the KaDeWe he couldn't find us at the meeting place we had arranged; we saw him come out and take off in another direction, and though Bredohl ran, he missed him. Then he went missing for half an hour after he fell behind when Whatshisface led us through Kreutzberg and Bredohl had to go find him again."
• "Germani and Bredohl looked like they wanted to climb in the playground. German accent: 'Ian, I'm hanging like a monkey!' British accent: 'Thomas! I'm in the cubby!'"

Sadly, the journal ends midway through Berlin. It's astounding just how much we saw and how far we walked each day, especially in Paris where marathon-man Germani was guiding us.

Not a student, but still Shirking

Fun fact: driving a real car (as opposed to a crap one) with a cd player (as opposed to no audio of any kind) makes you almost enjoy driving. But not quite.

I'm killing time in the ol' Luther library (birthplace of drawings) for...oh, another couple hours, anyway. Either this computer clock's wrong, or I've been unobservant and not noticed half a dozen hours slip by. You can only play the piano so long, especially if strange people keep gawking at you and you haven't played in weeks and you're kind of falling asleep and you're just kind of half-heartedly watching your fingers to see where they'll go without really remembering where they're supposed to go. It's happening again right now while I'm typing this. Look at those fingers, what are they doing? It's one of those days, where I just don't care about much. Most days.

The reason I'm here in the first place is that I was obliged to go to a workshop that was supposed to help me with scholarship-applying. If by "help" they mean "point out what a tiny fraction of a chance I have," I guess it went fairly well. I almost suspect it was contrived just to convince me not to do grad studies. The general consensus was that there's no such thing as secular Anglo-Saxon poetry. This evening there's a lecture here at the university—I can't quite recall what it's supposed to be about, but at any rate it will be my first lecture since finishing school.

It's strange walking around the university and not belonging at all, though I've done quite a bit of wandering around here lately. I've discovered that the university doesn't love you unless you're a student (and then still probably not, but if you're not a student or in any other way connected to the university, you're doomed). They almost wouldn't let me take out some books again (I just wanted to practice shelving at home).

Apparently my brother had trouble getting a bunch of seed through Australian customs this weekend, but last I heard he was in Melbourne okay. This one's for him. The last couple days have been warm enough to melt all the snow, and today it was even raining. My headaches seem to have returned, as well as the old insomnia. I blame computers. And possibly the toxic wood preservative I was working with all morning.

Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty

Well, last time's empty fun fact was an artistic statement (or something), but supplying your own fun fact was a good idea too. This week's fun fact: the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT). You can read more about it on good old Wikipedia here. Other topics of interest are the Agreed Framework and NATO.

First Pillar: non-proliferation

“Five states are permitted by the NPT [Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty] to own nuclear weapons”—namely, France, Russia, China, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Why? Because they were “the only states possessing such weapons at the time the treaty was opened to signature.”

Second Pillar: disarmament

According to Article 6 of the Treaty, “The states undertake to negotiate toward general and complete disarmament under strict and effective international control.”

NWS parties have a formal obligation to “pursue plans to reduce and liquidate their stockpiles”—a formal obligation, that is, which “has never been adhered to by the NPT-recognized nuclear weapons states…. The failure of the NPT-recognized nuclear weapons states to comply with their disarmament obligations, and the unconditional indefinite extension of the NPT, has left a simmering discontent among many signatories of the NPT, and a justification for the non-signatories to develop their own nuclear arsenals.”

Third Pillar: the right to peacefully use nuclear technology

The NPT “gives every state the inalienable right to use nuclear energy for peaceful purposes,” such as light water reactor nuclear power.
Now, here are some fun facts on NATO nuclear weapons sharing:

• “At the time the treaty was being negotiated, NATO had in place secret nuclear weapons sharing agreements whereby the United States provided nuclear weapons to be deployed by, and stored in, other NATO states.”


• “As of 2005, it is estimated that the United States still provides between 180 and 480 tactical B61 nuclear bombs for use by Belgium, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands and Turkey under these NATO agreements.”

Well, so much for nonproliferation. “Under NATO convention, in the event of a declaration of war, these nuclear weapons cease to be subject to [the NPT] treaty. Such a declaration my occur quickly, and in secret; in effect, the NATO nations will become instantaneous overseas bases for deployment and usage of U.S. nuclear weapons. Many would argue that this situation violates the spirit of the treaty, and perhaps even the written rule.”
In Iran:

• Iran has a uranium enrichment program, which is “a step towards a civilian nuclear energy program, which is allowed under the terms of the NPT”—that good old unalienable right. “However, the United States and the European Union accuse Iran of using this program to help covertly develop nuclear weapons, in violation of the NPT. Iran remains under investigation by the International Atomic Energy Agency, which has found no evidence of a nuclear weapons program.”

Now, as for North Korea:

• North Korean Foreign Ministry statement: “We had already taken the resolute action of pulling out of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty and have manufactured nuclear arms for self-defence to cope with the Bush administration’s evermore undisguised policy to isolate and stifle the DPRK.”


• Terms of the Agreed Framework (signed in 1994) include:
  
  • North Korea’s obligations: shutdown of the Yongbyon nuclear reactor; abandoning construction of two larger nuclear power plants; placing of spent fuel under IAEA controls.
  • What they get in return: two light water reactors to be constructed by 2003, primarily supplied by Japan and South Korea.
  • Soon after, the US came under the administration of the Republicans, who—although they didn’t support the agreement—“agreed to phase out economic sanctions that had been in place since the Korean War.”

The US didn’t deliver on this though, and by 1999 “North Korea warned that they would resume nuclear research unless the US kept up its end of the bargain.” North Korea withdrew from the NPT in 2003.

Here’s a breakdown of the opinions at the 2005 Review Conference of the NPT (happens every 5 years):

• United States: “wanted the conference to focus on proliferation, especially on its allegations against Iran”
• Most other countries: “emphasized the serious nuclear disarmament by the nuclear powers”

I don’t believe anybody should have nuclear weapons, but if you’re someone like Iran and the US is trying to stop your nuclear energy program, when the US itself is probably the most nuclear state there is—and quite obviously has no plans for disarmament—then how can you help being angry? Or say you’re North Korea and you were promised some light water reactors (for civilian nuclear energy), and then never got them? Nobody likes a Global Police, or Big Brother, or whatever you call it.