A NOISELESS, patient spider,
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
incredible!
This was going around twitter a couple days ago and I just finally watched it. Incredible. I need to watch it a few more times.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Gerard Manly Hopkins
Hopkins is a masterful poet, one of the greatest in the English language. So I had to pause to read this article on Slate.com just out of curiosity.
What's strange to me is the author's contrasting of those two poems for the purposes of the article, because it's easier to say what's different about those works than to say what's similar. The subject matter is entirely contrasting, the authors' perspectives utterly different, the messages and themes completely at odds with each other. One may as well take an apple and an orange and list all the ways that one is not like the other although they are both fruit. Thomas is commenting on the ironies of class and Hopkins is struggling with God, for chrissakes.
Not saying that the author of the article doesn't make some interesting points about the poems, but I'm wondering why he chose to contrast these two to begin with. That is all.
What's strange to me is the author's contrasting of those two poems for the purposes of the article, because it's easier to say what's different about those works than to say what's similar. The subject matter is entirely contrasting, the authors' perspectives utterly different, the messages and themes completely at odds with each other. One may as well take an apple and an orange and list all the ways that one is not like the other although they are both fruit. Thomas is commenting on the ironies of class and Hopkins is struggling with God, for chrissakes.
Not saying that the author of the article doesn't make some interesting points about the poems, but I'm wondering why he chose to contrast these two to begin with. That is all.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Envoi- Eavan Boland
Appropriate for me on so many levels right now.
It is Easter in the suburb. Clematis
shrubs the eaves and trellises with pastel.
The evenings lengthen and before the rain
the Dublin mountains become visible.
My muse must be better than those of men
who made theirs in the image of their myth.
The work is half-finished and I have nothing
but the crudest measures to complete it with.
Under the street lamps the dustbins brighten.
The winter-flowering jasmine casts a shadow
outside my window in my neighbor's garden.
These are things my muse must know.
She must come to me. Let her come
to be among the donnee, the given.
I need her to remain with me until
the day is over and the song is proven.
Surely she comes, surely she comes to me--
no lizard skin, no paps, no podded womb
about her but a brightening and
the consequences of an April tomb.
What I have done I have done alone.
What I have seen is unverified.
I have the truth and I need the faith.
It is time I put my hand in her side.
If she will not bless the ordinary,
if she will not sanctify the common,
then here I am and here I stay and then am I
the most miserable of women.
It is Easter in the suburb. Clematis
shrubs the eaves and trellises with pastel.
The evenings lengthen and before the rain
the Dublin mountains become visible.
My muse must be better than those of men
who made theirs in the image of their myth.
The work is half-finished and I have nothing
but the crudest measures to complete it with.
Under the street lamps the dustbins brighten.
The winter-flowering jasmine casts a shadow
outside my window in my neighbor's garden.
These are things my muse must know.
She must come to me. Let her come
to be among the donnee, the given.
I need her to remain with me until
the day is over and the song is proven.
Surely she comes, surely she comes to me--
no lizard skin, no paps, no podded womb
about her but a brightening and
the consequences of an April tomb.
What I have done I have done alone.
What I have seen is unverified.
I have the truth and I need the faith.
It is time I put my hand in her side.
If she will not bless the ordinary,
if she will not sanctify the common,
then here I am and here I stay and then am I
the most miserable of women.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Balance
This is an amazing short that I hadn't seen for years (despite looking for it from time to time) until my friend Kristen posted it on Facebook today. Wonderful!
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Abt Vogler- Robert Browning
Just about my favorite poem ever.
Would that the structure brave, the manifold music I build,
Bidding my organ obey, calling its keys to their work,
Claiming each slave of the sound, at a touch, as when Solomon willed
Armies of angels that soar, legions of demons that lurk,
Man, brute, reptile, fly,--alien of end and of aim,
Adverse, each from the other heaven-high, hell-deep removed,--
Should rush into sight at once as he named the ineffable Name,
And pile him a palace straight, to pleasure the princess he loved!
Would it might tarry like his, the beautiful building of mine,
This which my keys in a crowd pressed and importuned to raise!
Ah, one and all, how they helped, would dispart now and now combine,
Zealous to hasten the work, heighten their master his praise!
And one would bury his brow with a blind plunge down to hell,
Burrow awhile and build, broad on the roots of things,
Then up again swim into sight, having based me my palace well,
Founded it, fearless of flame, flat on the nether springs.
And another would mount and march, like the excellent minion he was,
Ay, another and yet another, one crowd but with many a crest,
Raising my rampired walls of gold as transparent as glass,
Eager to do and die, yield each his place to the rest:
For higher still and higher (as a runner tips with fire,
When a great illumination surprises a festal night--
Outlining round and round Rome's dome from space to spire)
Up, the pinnacled glory reached, and the pride of my soul was in sight.
In sight? Not half! for it seemed, it was certain, to match man's birth,
Nature in turn conceived, obeying an impulse as I;
And the emulous heaven yearned down, made effort to reach the earth,
As the earth had done her best, in my passion, to scale the sky:
Novel splendours burst forth, grew familiar and dwelt with mine,
Not a point nor peak but found and fixed its wandering star;
Meteor-moons, balls of blaze: and they did not pale nor pine,
For earth had attained to heaven, there was no more near nor far.
Nay more; for there wanted not who walked in the glare and glow,
Presences plain in the place; or, fresh from the Protoplast,
Furnished for ages to come, when a kindlier wind should blow,
Lured now to begin and live, in a house to their liking at last;
Or else the wonderful Dead who have passed through the body and gone,
But were back once more to breathe in an old world worth their new:
What never had been, was now; what was, as it shall be anon;
And what is,--shall I say, matched both? for I was made perfect too.
All through my keys that gave their sounds to a wish of my soul,
All through my soul that praised as its wish flowed visibly forth,
All through music and me! For think, had I painted the whole,
Why, there it had stood, to see, nor the process so wonder-worth:
Had I written the same, made verse--still, effect proceeds from cause,
Ye know why the forms are fair, ye hear how the tale is told;
It is all triumphant art, but art in obedience to laws,
Painter and poet are proud in the artist-list enrolled:--
But here is the finger of God, a flash of the will that can,
Existent behind all laws, that made them and, lo, they are!
And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man,
That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, but a star.
Consider it well: each tone of our scale in itself is nought;
It is everywhere in the world--loud, soft, and all is said:
Give it to me to use! I mix it with two in my thought:
And, there! Ye have heard and seen: consider and bow the head!
Well, it is gone at last, the palace of music I reared;
Gone! and the good tears start, the praises that come too slow;
For one is assured at first, one scarce can say that he feared,
That he even gave it a thought, the gone thing was to go.
Never to be again! But many more of the kind
As good, nay, better, perchance: is this your comfort to me?
To me, who must be saved because I cling with my mind
To the same, same self, same love, same God: ay, what was, shall be.
Therefore to whom turn I but to thee, the ineffable Name?
Builder and maker, thou, of houses not made with hands!
What, have fear of change from thee who art ever the same?
Doubt that thy power can fill the heart that thy power expands?
There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before;
The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound;
What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more;
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist;
Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power
Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist
When eternity affirms the conception of an hour.
The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard,
The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky,
Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard;
Enough that he heard it once: we shall hear it by and by.
And what is our failure here but a triumph's evidence
For the fulness of the days? Have we withered or agonized?
Why else was the pause prolonged but that singing might issue thence?
Why rushed the discords in, but that harmony should be prized?
Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear,
Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe:
But God has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear;
The rest may reason and welcome; 'tis we musicians know.
Well, it is earth with me; silence resumes her reign:
I will be patient and proud, and soberly acquiesce.
Give me the keys. I feel for the common chord again,
Sliding by semitones till I sink to the minor,--yes,
And I blunt it into a ninth, and I stand on alien ground,
Surveying awhile the heights I rolled from into the deep;
Which, hark, I have dared and done, for my resting-place is found,
The C Major of this life: so, now I will try to sleep.
Would that the structure brave, the manifold music I build,
Bidding my organ obey, calling its keys to their work,
Claiming each slave of the sound, at a touch, as when Solomon willed
Armies of angels that soar, legions of demons that lurk,
Man, brute, reptile, fly,--alien of end and of aim,
Adverse, each from the other heaven-high, hell-deep removed,--
Should rush into sight at once as he named the ineffable Name,
And pile him a palace straight, to pleasure the princess he loved!
Would it might tarry like his, the beautiful building of mine,
This which my keys in a crowd pressed and importuned to raise!
Ah, one and all, how they helped, would dispart now and now combine,
Zealous to hasten the work, heighten their master his praise!
And one would bury his brow with a blind plunge down to hell,
Burrow awhile and build, broad on the roots of things,
Then up again swim into sight, having based me my palace well,
Founded it, fearless of flame, flat on the nether springs.
And another would mount and march, like the excellent minion he was,
Ay, another and yet another, one crowd but with many a crest,
Raising my rampired walls of gold as transparent as glass,
Eager to do and die, yield each his place to the rest:
For higher still and higher (as a runner tips with fire,
When a great illumination surprises a festal night--
Outlining round and round Rome's dome from space to spire)
Up, the pinnacled glory reached, and the pride of my soul was in sight.
In sight? Not half! for it seemed, it was certain, to match man's birth,
Nature in turn conceived, obeying an impulse as I;
And the emulous heaven yearned down, made effort to reach the earth,
As the earth had done her best, in my passion, to scale the sky:
Novel splendours burst forth, grew familiar and dwelt with mine,
Not a point nor peak but found and fixed its wandering star;
Meteor-moons, balls of blaze: and they did not pale nor pine,
For earth had attained to heaven, there was no more near nor far.
Nay more; for there wanted not who walked in the glare and glow,
Presences plain in the place; or, fresh from the Protoplast,
Furnished for ages to come, when a kindlier wind should blow,
Lured now to begin and live, in a house to their liking at last;
Or else the wonderful Dead who have passed through the body and gone,
But were back once more to breathe in an old world worth their new:
What never had been, was now; what was, as it shall be anon;
And what is,--shall I say, matched both? for I was made perfect too.
All through my keys that gave their sounds to a wish of my soul,
All through my soul that praised as its wish flowed visibly forth,
All through music and me! For think, had I painted the whole,
Why, there it had stood, to see, nor the process so wonder-worth:
Had I written the same, made verse--still, effect proceeds from cause,
Ye know why the forms are fair, ye hear how the tale is told;
It is all triumphant art, but art in obedience to laws,
Painter and poet are proud in the artist-list enrolled:--
But here is the finger of God, a flash of the will that can,
Existent behind all laws, that made them and, lo, they are!
And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man,
That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, but a star.
Consider it well: each tone of our scale in itself is nought;
It is everywhere in the world--loud, soft, and all is said:
Give it to me to use! I mix it with two in my thought:
And, there! Ye have heard and seen: consider and bow the head!
Well, it is gone at last, the palace of music I reared;
Gone! and the good tears start, the praises that come too slow;
For one is assured at first, one scarce can say that he feared,
That he even gave it a thought, the gone thing was to go.
Never to be again! But many more of the kind
As good, nay, better, perchance: is this your comfort to me?
To me, who must be saved because I cling with my mind
To the same, same self, same love, same God: ay, what was, shall be.
Therefore to whom turn I but to thee, the ineffable Name?
Builder and maker, thou, of houses not made with hands!
What, have fear of change from thee who art ever the same?
Doubt that thy power can fill the heart that thy power expands?
There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before;
The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound;
What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more;
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist;
Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power
Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist
When eternity affirms the conception of an hour.
The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard,
The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky,
Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard;
Enough that he heard it once: we shall hear it by and by.
And what is our failure here but a triumph's evidence
For the fulness of the days? Have we withered or agonized?
Why else was the pause prolonged but that singing might issue thence?
Why rushed the discords in, but that harmony should be prized?
Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear,
Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe:
But God has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear;
The rest may reason and welcome; 'tis we musicians know.
Well, it is earth with me; silence resumes her reign:
I will be patient and proud, and soberly acquiesce.
Give me the keys. I feel for the common chord again,
Sliding by semitones till I sink to the minor,--yes,
And I blunt it into a ninth, and I stand on alien ground,
Surveying awhile the heights I rolled from into the deep;
Which, hark, I have dared and done, for my resting-place is found,
The C Major of this life: so, now I will try to sleep.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Uninspired
So, as you may have noticed, this blog is less and less about the community and more about myself personally.
I think it's just that I'm in a bit of a down place lately- a lot of collaborative projects have sort of fallen apart due to one thing or another, so I'm having a little rebound period where I rethink what I want to be involved in and the extent of my involvement.
On the other hand, being done with those things is incredibly freeing, and I'm starting to feel a spark of creativity and enthusiasm for personal projects. So it's fine, I'm just not in the same place I was six months ago when I started blogging.
One of the things I'm thinking about is that I need to take on personal projects that specifically don't resemble the work I do for money. I really enjoy the weird stuff I make with wire and paper and find it gratifying, and want to explore working more with physical stuff, rather than looking at a monitor.
Also, I need to make more substantial connections with some of the amazing people I know, because I think that having people to bounce things off of would be really helpful for me. I have a hard time prioritizing spending meaningful time with people, but I need to do that.
So if you don't mind, I'll continue to share like I have been, and keep the title the same. And thank you for your patience.
I think it's just that I'm in a bit of a down place lately- a lot of collaborative projects have sort of fallen apart due to one thing or another, so I'm having a little rebound period where I rethink what I want to be involved in and the extent of my involvement.
On the other hand, being done with those things is incredibly freeing, and I'm starting to feel a spark of creativity and enthusiasm for personal projects. So it's fine, I'm just not in the same place I was six months ago when I started blogging.
One of the things I'm thinking about is that I need to take on personal projects that specifically don't resemble the work I do for money. I really enjoy the weird stuff I make with wire and paper and find it gratifying, and want to explore working more with physical stuff, rather than looking at a monitor.
Also, I need to make more substantial connections with some of the amazing people I know, because I think that having people to bounce things off of would be really helpful for me. I have a hard time prioritizing spending meaningful time with people, but I need to do that.
So if you don't mind, I'll continue to share like I have been, and keep the title the same. And thank you for your patience.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The Neighbor- Rilke
Dangit, I can't find the Snow translation online, so I'm going to have to try this from memory.
Strange violin, do you follow me?
In how many distant cities before this
Did your lonely night speak to mine?
Do thousands play you? Does only one?
Are there in all the great cities those who, without you,
Would have long since lost themselves in the rivers?
And why does it always reach me?
Why am I always the neighbor of those who force you
From fear to sing, and to say out loud
Life is heavier than the weight of all things.
Strange violin, do you follow me?
In how many distant cities before this
Did your lonely night speak to mine?
Do thousands play you? Does only one?
Are there in all the great cities those who, without you,
Would have long since lost themselves in the rivers?
And why does it always reach me?
Why am I always the neighbor of those who force you
From fear to sing, and to say out loud
Life is heavier than the weight of all things.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Art I
Oh my gosh! This is Boujemaa Lahkdar, who had some absolutely amazing pieces in a museum in Marrakech, but who's work I've never ever seen on the web before. Thank you, flickr!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
It's been a while
Going to iSite's anniversary party on Monday. The people I've met from there have made a great impression on me at cre8 camp and on Twitter, so I'm looking forward to it. They have a handy RSVP form on their website where you not only say that you're coming, but can tell them if there's any expert you'd like to talk to, and then adds the date to your Outlook calendar. Nice!
Also coming up- Science Pub and Interesting PDX.
I'm taking a couple days off in early April and really looking forward to it. It always seems like a person should take vacation when they have somewhere to go, but I never can afford to go anywhere. So I try to remember to take vacation anyway and just relax. I have to admit that I worry a bit about everything when I'm gone, but that's just because I take it seriously and feel a personal commitment to our projects- it's good that I worry, and good that I leave anyway.
Tomorrow we start putting together the baby board for the Portland chapter of Women in Animation- that should be exciting!
Also on Twitter, I'm late to the party, but Christopher Walken is my current favorite tweeter. He's hilarious. Someone really needs to put together an audio set, though, so you can hear him saying this stuff.
Also, shout out to some ex-Laikans who are staying in town and taking a shot at their own studio. I wish them all the best.
Also coming up- Science Pub and Interesting PDX.
I'm taking a couple days off in early April and really looking forward to it. It always seems like a person should take vacation when they have somewhere to go, but I never can afford to go anywhere. So I try to remember to take vacation anyway and just relax. I have to admit that I worry a bit about everything when I'm gone, but that's just because I take it seriously and feel a personal commitment to our projects- it's good that I worry, and good that I leave anyway.
Tomorrow we start putting together the baby board for the Portland chapter of Women in Animation- that should be exciting!
Also on Twitter, I'm late to the party, but Christopher Walken is my current favorite tweeter. He's hilarious. Someone really needs to put together an audio set, though, so you can hear him saying this stuff.
Also, shout out to some ex-Laikans who are staying in town and taking a shot at their own studio. I wish them all the best.
Monday, March 9, 2009
James P Carse- The Religious Case Against Belief
If God held all truth in his right hand and in his left hand the everlasting striving after truth, so that I could always and everlastingly be mistaken, and said to me, "Choose," with humility I would pick the left hand and say, "Father, grant me that. Absolute truth is for thee alone." - Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
[Galileo] knew, as any critical thinker would, that knowledge is corrigible, and that belief is rarely so. Open to correction himself, he had no inclination and no reason to take an immovable stand. He could not perform a heroic act like Luther's not because of cowardice but because there was nothing to stand on ... Galileo knew as well as anyone that there is no protecting ourselves from what discoveries the future brings.
We might say that we join the communitas when the questions being asked there becomes our questions.
In fact, never can we make a judgment of another with clean motives--even when such a judgment is appropriate. Evil is real. It is unmistakeably there in the world, and just as unmistakeably in ourselves.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
miscellany
A crucible is a heat-resistant container in which materials can be heated to very high temperatures.
Cre8 Camp on Saturday. To be perfectly honest, I'm feeling a little apprehensive that the event will be something of a forum for the OCI peeps. That makes it feel less organic and participant-driven than the Legion of Tech events, which is precisely what I value about them. However, I am looking forward to it.
Women in Animation stuff is happening- I've been really busy at work so haven't followed up on it as much as I keep intending to.
Still reading James P Carse and listened to his Long Now lecture last night. Really interesting, and surprisingly consistent with some stuff I was thinking way back when I studied philosophy, although, of course, much more cogent. His thinking is an interesting mix of rationality and mysticism that appeals to me.
Cre8 Camp on Saturday. To be perfectly honest, I'm feeling a little apprehensive that the event will be something of a forum for the OCI peeps. That makes it feel less organic and participant-driven than the Legion of Tech events, which is precisely what I value about them. However, I am looking forward to it.
Women in Animation stuff is happening- I've been really busy at work so haven't followed up on it as much as I keep intending to.
Still reading James P Carse and listened to his Long Now lecture last night. Really interesting, and surprisingly consistent with some stuff I was thinking way back when I studied philosophy, although, of course, much more cogent. His thinking is an interesting mix of rationality and mysticism that appeals to me.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Lincoln's second inaugural speech
Another amazing piece of literature.
At this second appearing to take the oath of the presidential office, there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. Then a statement, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued, seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention, and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.
On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it--all sought to avert it. While the inaugeral [sic] address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war--seeking to dissole [sic] the Union, and divide effects, by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came.
One eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the Southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was, somehow, the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war, the magnitude, or the duration, which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has his own purposes. "Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!" If we shall suppose that American Slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South, this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a Living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope--fervently do we pray--that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord, are true and righteous altogether"
With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan--to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.
At this second appearing to take the oath of the presidential office, there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. Then a statement, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued, seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention, and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.
On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it--all sought to avert it. While the inaugeral [sic] address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war--seeking to dissole [sic] the Union, and divide effects, by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came.
One eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the Southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was, somehow, the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war, the magnitude, or the duration, which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has his own purposes. "Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!" If we shall suppose that American Slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South, this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a Living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope--fervently do we pray--that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord, are true and righteous altogether"
With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan--to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.
Friday, February 27, 2009
James P Carse- Breakfast at the Victory
The ego wants nothing less than to see God. The soul knows, however, that if the Divine were to appear, the ego would not recognize it. The heavens cannot open for the soul; they are already open.
That is all.
That is all.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Alchemist- Paulo Coelho
So, this is another one of those books that everyone on the planet has read and raves about, and I wasn't particularly impressed by. Perhaps people are just so desperate for a sense of personal significance and meaning in their lives that this little allegory really speaks to that need... I'm not sure.
There was, however, one little passage I liked:
"This is why alchemy exists," the boy said. "So that everyone will search for his treasure, find it, and then want to be better than he was in his former life. Lead will play its role until the world has no further need for lead; and then lead will have to turn itself into gold."
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Animation Festival news
I met with Brian from the ASIFA chapter today, and he really wants to move forward with the festival for this fall. He wants it to be an ASIFA event and focus on the capabilities of Northwest chapter members, and I think we're just going to take the bit in our teeth and do it. I'm really pleased.
Monday, February 9, 2009
vacuum woes
~Totally out of step with the usual content of this blog, but I'm frustrated.~
About 7 years ago I got a new Kenmore upright bagless HEPA filter awesome vacuum from Sears. I loved that thing- it always worked beautifully and never gave me any problems. I'm sure I abused the filters, but it performed perfectly.
About 18 months ago, my mom and I agreed to switch vacuums because her new apartment had wall-to-wall carpet, and my most recent two apartments had hardwood floors. So I took her little stick vac, and she took my badass Kenmore.
Well, I couldn't hang with the crappy little thing, so last year for Christmas I bought myself a Dirt Devil bagless upright for pets. It had the air filter and a special pet hair attachment and everything.
About six months after I bought it, they recalled the pet hair attachment because it was hazardous- apparently it had been breaking and shooting out pieces of plastic at high velocities. Fine- I went to the Dirt Devil website and ordered the replacement attachment. About eight weeks later, I still hadn't gotten the attachment, and hadn't heard anything from them, so I call them. The (very nice) woman on the phone said that the order had been cancelled. I explained that I hadn't cancelled it, and hadn't been using the attachment for a long time now because it was unsafe, and would they please send me a new one. About 8 weeks later, the new one arrives.
Now, two weeks ago, my belt breaks. The website says to replace the belts every 3-4 months, but I had never ever replaced the belt on my Kenmore, which is now at least 7 years old. Also, the only thing I vacuum with this machine is a 6x8 area rug, and suck cat hair off the furniture- it hasn't even been used extensively. But whatever, the belts are cheap and I'll just buy a bunch of them, and I need new filters anyway. Except that the belts are out of stock at dirtdevil.com. And so are the air filters. And I called Starks, keeper of all things vacuum (they have a vacuum MUSEUM, for Pete's sake) and they don't have the belts either.
In short, I'm really unhappy with the purchase of this thing, and with the followup service I've gotten/am getting from Dirt Devil, and loved the abuse I was able to pile on my Kenmore. My mom is still using the hell out of it, and she loves it too. It wasn't that much more expensive than the Dirt Devil, and I should have just stuck with the brand.
About 7 years ago I got a new Kenmore upright bagless HEPA filter awesome vacuum from Sears. I loved that thing- it always worked beautifully and never gave me any problems. I'm sure I abused the filters, but it performed perfectly.
About 18 months ago, my mom and I agreed to switch vacuums because her new apartment had wall-to-wall carpet, and my most recent two apartments had hardwood floors. So I took her little stick vac, and she took my badass Kenmore.
Well, I couldn't hang with the crappy little thing, so last year for Christmas I bought myself a Dirt Devil bagless upright for pets. It had the air filter and a special pet hair attachment and everything.
About six months after I bought it, they recalled the pet hair attachment because it was hazardous- apparently it had been breaking and shooting out pieces of plastic at high velocities. Fine- I went to the Dirt Devil website and ordered the replacement attachment. About eight weeks later, I still hadn't gotten the attachment, and hadn't heard anything from them, so I call them. The (very nice) woman on the phone said that the order had been cancelled. I explained that I hadn't cancelled it, and hadn't been using the attachment for a long time now because it was unsafe, and would they please send me a new one. About 8 weeks later, the new one arrives.
Now, two weeks ago, my belt breaks. The website says to replace the belts every 3-4 months, but I had never ever replaced the belt on my Kenmore, which is now at least 7 years old. Also, the only thing I vacuum with this machine is a 6x8 area rug, and suck cat hair off the furniture- it hasn't even been used extensively. But whatever, the belts are cheap and I'll just buy a bunch of them, and I need new filters anyway. Except that the belts are out of stock at dirtdevil.com. And so are the air filters. And I called Starks, keeper of all things vacuum (they have a vacuum MUSEUM, for Pete's sake) and they don't have the belts either.
In short, I'm really unhappy with the purchase of this thing, and with the followup service I've gotten/am getting from Dirt Devil, and loved the abuse I was able to pile on my Kenmore. My mom is still using the hell out of it, and she loves it too. It wasn't that much more expensive than the Dirt Devil, and I should have just stuck with the brand.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Francis Bacon 1605
For myself, I found that I was fitted for nothing so well as for the study of Truth; as having a mind nimble and versatile enough to catch the resemblances of things … and at the same time steady enough to fix and distinguish their subtler differences; as being gifted by nature with desire to seek, patience to doubt, fondness to meditate, slowness to assert, readiness to consider, carefulness to dispose and set in order; and as being a man that neither affects what is new nor admires what is old, and that hates every kind of imposture.
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