We have moved on from the wonderful chill and constant drizzly rain of Cloudcroft to the equally chilly and rain-soaked mountains of Ruidoso. I have stolen away to the Starbucks down the street this morning (I know, it is an absolute crime to frequent a coffee-chain when there are numberless mom-n-pop shops around town, but, alas, I am a creature of habit/comfort, so here I am) to do some studying, so I thought I would update.
I will leave you with some trivia questions from the game we played last night. No cheating.
1. What is the largest freshwater lake in the world?
2. What singer won the 1964 Alabama-Mississippi State Fair?
3. What was H.G. Wells' first novel?
4. What does a piscatologist excel at?
5. What was the name of Scarlett O'Hara's homestead?
I will leave you with some trivia questions from the game we played last night. No cheating.
1. What is the largest freshwater lake in the world?
2. What singer won the 1964 Alabama-Mississippi State Fair?
3. What was H.G. Wells' first novel?
4. What does a piscatologist excel at?
5. What was the name of Scarlett O'Hara's homestead?
I know, I know, I am a liar. Not even a week in, and I already failed my challenge. I ask for your grace, though. Julie and I, as you can see are far from the friendly confines of our Dallas skyline, green-lighted buildings or Starbucks on every corner. With all the upheaval in our life these last few months, and particularly on account of Julie's changing of jobs, we did not take any sort of vacation to speak of this summer. So, we took a long weekend and are spending it in New Mexico. Currently we are in Cloudcroft in a rented cabin that could not be more secluded (see: right). We will go to Ruidoso for a couple of nights before heading back after Labor Day.
Now for my excuse. We get here last night, and it is pretty rustic by 2008 standards. The roads are gravel, which did not bode well for my tiny little Mini, and there is not even cable television (that is not entirely true - we get FoxNews, and basically nothing else - we are not sure if that is actually better than no tv at all, but it certainly helps prove my point that FoxNews is taking over the world. In a place that does not even have cable, how would one expect to find an internet connection? It was not until this morning that I came upon the internet connection while snooping around a bit. So, here we are.
Julie has been thrilled with fireplace. It has been raining, windy and cold (for two Dallasites) all night and day, so there has been a constant fire.
Mostly we have spent the day in and out of the hot tub and reading. I started school this last week, so I already have a pile of books to get through. I started one today that I would love to blog about, but I will wait until later to give it a full description. It is a history of hermeneutics for a class of the same name, though I think it could just as easily have been titled: Studies in Heidegger's Being and Time. What is think is so fascinating about the book, in light of the discussions I have been having of late, is the link that the author is making between Protestant hermeneutical principles, beginning with Augustine and continuing with Luther and beyond, and postmodern philosophy. A very convincing, logical case is being made, at least in my opinion thus far, between Protestant hermeneutics and postmodern, Heideggerian philosophy.
More to come, but for now we are going to eat.
No blogging tonight. Sorry.
She leaned in close, the light reflecting off her slightly disheveled locks of red that wisped still constrained from her largish forehead. It was in this moment that the darkness of the window-lighted room hit him, giving her words and eerie permanence, a presence their own that he had not anticipated. Her whisper, thick, Hungarian, could have penetrated deaf ears, "Are you serious about this?" Without even giving him so much as an instant to answer - not that he would have, the sudden gravity had sunk him deeply into the crimson cotton beneath him - she asked again, with a voice rising only enough for effect. "Are you serious about this? Do you just need the credit....or....are you serious about this course?"
The onus had fallen to him. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over the sea of black material dotted with gold and ornaments of jewels and metals dangling across her chest, and she waited.
************
This was the scene that played out a few minutes ago as I met with one of my professors for the first time. We have discussed doing and independent study for the Fall semester, but today was the first time we sat and worked through what would be covered. After leaving her office forty-five minutes later, all I can say is that it probably would have been prudent of me to say NO.
In all seriousness, I am very excited about studying Thomas Mann with her this semester. She is a revered member of the UTD faculty, and I am exceedingly fortunate that she has taken enough interest in my studies to do this with me. Mann is her area of expertise, and I believe she is truly excited to immerse me in her idol. My wariness comes from the fact that Mann is incapable of writing with brevity. For instance, his brother, Heinrich, wrote an essay that attacked Thomas, criticizing him for his political leanings. Heinrich's essay was ten or less pages - a standard length for such a thing - so Thomas immediately sets out to write an essay in response. He does so, but his spans 700+ pages. She gave me a few works to begin with, but even this handful is already somewhere in the ballpark of 3o00 pages! Maybe next semester I can study a cartoonist or something.
It is washing over me now like the cool rains that have watered the black asphalt beneath me these last few weeks. I recollect the feelings of just one year ago today, the dread of starting another school year, being tethered to a classroom and high school students I neither knew nor cared much to know, fighting with the bureaucracy of a graduate student's existence in what seemed to be a futile effort to graduate with a degree that for all practical purposes was finished months prior. The angst and unrest was palpable, as I am sure one could tell from the blog entries of those days.
This year is different on the eve of my first day of classes. As the grainy picture indicates, Julie and I are currently sitting on the patio toasting the advent of a new semester with a sense of ease and enjoyment. I will be taking more graduate hours at one time than I ever have previously, and, though I am only teaching part-time the tutoring load will be substantial, but none of these things are weighing as heavily this year as they have in the past. I realized this summer how much I crave what has become normal. Summers are not normal. Structure is normal. A harried pace, deadlines, expectations, study; these things are normal.
So, if you are so inclined, raise a glass with Julie and I (we prefer cheap champagne, but you can substitute with the beverage of your choice) and let us toast to the return of the grind of the beautiful mundane. Cheers!
I know, I know, it is a cheap tag-line, but I wanted to include a couple of quotes from Kant to help with my present argument with myself. I have been chewing on these notions of Truth and Beauty, and I was reminded of his Critique of Judgment that I read in my undergrad, so I pulled it from the shelf and read a bit to see what he came up with. Here are a few snippets that might be worth consideration.
**Kant is talking about aesthetic-judgment here, but I think it applies equally well to the present considerations***
"If we wish to decide whether something is beautiful or not, we do not use understanding to refer the presentation to the object so as to give rise to cognition; rather, we use imagination to refer the presentation to the subject and his feeling of pleasure or displeasure. Hence a judgment of taste is not a cognitive judgment and so is not a logical judgment but an aesthetic one, by which we mean a judgment whose determining basis cannot be other than subjective."
In my present musings, I liken what he is writing to the Christian faith. The question that must be answered when defending a position such as the one that I have taken is: Do you believe in absolute truth? The answer is one of those great Yes/No's that modern and postmodern philosophers love to give. The very fact that we can get to the notion of God logically (see: Aquinas...etc) necessitates that there is perfection (aka: Truth), but surely we cannot for a second believe that finite human beings are capable of grasping such a thing.
Let us take Kant's words as an example. In the same way that I cannot judge beauty without filtering the perception through the instrument of imaginative thought, so too must abstract concepts such as Truth, Beauty, God, grace..... go through a similar, if not the same, filter. To believe that our filters cannot be dirtied or obstructed in some fashion seems absurd at best, and outright hubristic at worst. Why must we insist on having insight into such things with the same clarity as the mind of God?
***I lost the other passage that went along with what I was saying (cut me some slack, though; it's a bit book), so I have one other piece that is relatively unrelated but interesting to the study***
"A judgment of taste requires everyone to assent; and whoever declares something to be beautiful holds that everyone ought to give his approval.... We solicit everyone else's assent because we have a basis for it that is common to all. Indeed, we could count on that assent, if only we could always be sure that the instance had been subsumed correctly under that basis, which is the rule for approval."
Even big-scary-enemy-of-the-church Kant leaves more than mere room for religious expression. I believe denominational worship could fall under this umbrella. We agree on certain principles of the faith as a community, and our community might differ in areas from another (ex: Catholic vs. Baptist vs. Methodist...etc), but each is agreeing on terms that their members agree upon as standards of worship. Within these standards there is room for expectations of propriety and solidarity of belief, but the one group cannot in good conscience denigrate the others who are merely assenting to different boundaries and interpretations.
I realize this line of thought is not expanded to its fullest potential, and questions abound that must be dealt with, particularly relating to limits on deviation from one group to another while still being considered an interpretation of the same thing, but I do not think this is far off. The beauty of grace (at least the way I understand it) is in the ability as believers to approach the taking up of our faith with fear and trembling, but not a fear that leads to stagnation.
**Kant is talking about aesthetic-judgment here, but I think it applies equally well to the present considerations***
"If we wish to decide whether something is beautiful or not, we do not use understanding to refer the presentation to the object so as to give rise to cognition; rather, we use imagination to refer the presentation to the subject and his feeling of pleasure or displeasure. Hence a judgment of taste is not a cognitive judgment and so is not a logical judgment but an aesthetic one, by which we mean a judgment whose determining basis cannot be other than subjective."
In my present musings, I liken what he is writing to the Christian faith. The question that must be answered when defending a position such as the one that I have taken is: Do you believe in absolute truth? The answer is one of those great Yes/No's that modern and postmodern philosophers love to give. The very fact that we can get to the notion of God logically (see: Aquinas...etc) necessitates that there is perfection (aka: Truth), but surely we cannot for a second believe that finite human beings are capable of grasping such a thing.
Let us take Kant's words as an example. In the same way that I cannot judge beauty without filtering the perception through the instrument of imaginative thought, so too must abstract concepts such as Truth, Beauty, God, grace..... go through a similar, if not the same, filter. To believe that our filters cannot be dirtied or obstructed in some fashion seems absurd at best, and outright hubristic at worst. Why must we insist on having insight into such things with the same clarity as the mind of God?
***I lost the other passage that went along with what I was saying (cut me some slack, though; it's a bit book), so I have one other piece that is relatively unrelated but interesting to the study***
"A judgment of taste requires everyone to assent; and whoever declares something to be beautiful holds that everyone ought to give his approval.... We solicit everyone else's assent because we have a basis for it that is common to all. Indeed, we could count on that assent, if only we could always be sure that the instance had been subsumed correctly under that basis, which is the rule for approval."
Even big-scary-enemy-of-the-church Kant leaves more than mere room for religious expression. I believe denominational worship could fall under this umbrella. We agree on certain principles of the faith as a community, and our community might differ in areas from another (ex: Catholic vs. Baptist vs. Methodist...etc), but each is agreeing on terms that their members agree upon as standards of worship. Within these standards there is room for expectations of propriety and solidarity of belief, but the one group cannot in good conscience denigrate the others who are merely assenting to different boundaries and interpretations.
I realize this line of thought is not expanded to its fullest potential, and questions abound that must be dealt with, particularly relating to limits on deviation from one group to another while still being considered an interpretation of the same thing, but I do not think this is far off. The beauty of grace (at least the way I understand it) is in the ability as believers to approach the taking up of our faith with fear and trembling, but not a fear that leads to stagnation.
Despite my best efforts, of late I have once again become entangled in a series of arguments with my friends and colleagues concerning what amounts to a defense of a postmodern-Christianity. Even the term "postmodern" is inherently fraught with dangerous connotations, and I hesitate to use the word too much, but I believe it is a fairly accurate word, as long as we can agree on certain terms that it does and does not embody. For the purpose of today's entry, I will focus on one.
Taken from the preface to A Postmodern Reader, which is a collection of philosophical essays on the subject, the editor hits at a point that I find critical to such a discussion. He writes, "If one of the messages of the postmodern is that cultural values are always local and particular, and not universal and eternal...." He comes to certain conclusions, but I believe for the purpose of my defense, the simple statement that truths (yes, the "s" is there on purpose) are localized within specific communities.
I am aware that there are some buzz-words in the last paragraph that sets some of your radars off: "No such thing as eternal!", but hear me out. Throughout the centuries philosophers have struggled with notions of Truth and Beauty, and even the most valiant efforts have ended in frustration, because it these do not seem to be things that can be applied across a universal spectrum apart from setting cultural/communal norms to govern what is good or bad, right or wrong.
The Christian community is just that, a community. We have agreed upon certain principles to govern us - namely biblical morality. We have shaped all in the image of a Judeo-Christian understanding of God, and if we are willing to acquiesce to the notion that our understanding is still just that, OUR understanding, based upon perceptions ascertained through the imperfect human lenses of ourselves, then we can live and worship with definite senses of Truth, Beauty and Goodness.
The problem seems to come when we try to work our understanding of such things into universals. We come up with clever excuses why polygamy was allowed in ancient times, apparently approved by God then, but only for a limited time, and we rest comfortably that we are in the right. Murder is wrong, but not in the case of Just-War. Lying is sin, but not if it protects one's family from danger. The very fact that we cannot consistently hold to any ethic should not leave us disconcerted, though; rather, it should cause us to further embrace the very postmodern notion that Truth may be less definable than we hope. God is not castrated; he is mysterious and largely unknowable in any perfect sense.
Just some thoughts.
Taken from the preface to A Postmodern Reader, which is a collection of philosophical essays on the subject, the editor hits at a point that I find critical to such a discussion. He writes, "If one of the messages of the postmodern is that cultural values are always local and particular, and not universal and eternal...." He comes to certain conclusions, but I believe for the purpose of my defense, the simple statement that truths (yes, the "s" is there on purpose) are localized within specific communities.
I am aware that there are some buzz-words in the last paragraph that sets some of your radars off: "No such thing as eternal!", but hear me out. Throughout the centuries philosophers have struggled with notions of Truth and Beauty, and even the most valiant efforts have ended in frustration, because it these do not seem to be things that can be applied across a universal spectrum apart from setting cultural/communal norms to govern what is good or bad, right or wrong.
The Christian community is just that, a community. We have agreed upon certain principles to govern us - namely biblical morality. We have shaped all in the image of a Judeo-Christian understanding of God, and if we are willing to acquiesce to the notion that our understanding is still just that, OUR understanding, based upon perceptions ascertained through the imperfect human lenses of ourselves, then we can live and worship with definite senses of Truth, Beauty and Goodness.
The problem seems to come when we try to work our understanding of such things into universals. We come up with clever excuses why polygamy was allowed in ancient times, apparently approved by God then, but only for a limited time, and we rest comfortably that we are in the right. Murder is wrong, but not in the case of Just-War. Lying is sin, but not if it protects one's family from danger. The very fact that we cannot consistently hold to any ethic should not leave us disconcerted, though; rather, it should cause us to further embrace the very postmodern notion that Truth may be less definable than we hope. God is not castrated; he is mysterious and largely unknowable in any perfect sense.
Just some thoughts.
After yesterday's near collapse of my Ripken-esque 1-day-consecutiv-blogging streak, I thought I would attempt an earlier entry. I have been tutoring and working on school-stuff all morning, so my insights are shallower than usual (I think my brain is going on strike until I put some food other than candy in my stomach). Maybe I will offer some more views from up high.
We have become spoiled with all the space in our living room.
A shot from the balcony. I was waiting on Julie to come home (she now rides the DART rail and walks a few blocks), so in theory that might be her in the crosswalk.
This week has been basically a daily monsoon, and I have found myself transfixed by watching the storms roll in from the West.
We have become spoiled with all the space in our living room.
A shot from the balcony. I was waiting on Julie to come home (she now rides the DART rail and walks a few blocks), so in theory that might be her in the crosswalk.
This week has been basically a daily monsoon, and I have found myself transfixed by watching the storms roll in from the West.
Wow, one day into my ambitious blogging challenge and I just nearly forgot to blog. Does anyone really think this will possibly last a full month? - I certainly have my doubts.
Rather than continue the tour of the apartment and the surrounding area, I wanted to show a couple of pictures that I found on the camera when I was uploading the pics from last night. Julie and I are the world's worst at documenting our lives visually. I am always so impressed with those people that always seem to have a camera with them, and they are able to remember every event through these digital pixelations. I assumed that such traits where indigenous to all women and a handful of men, sort of like fashion or a sense of cleanliness, but, alas, I was wrong. My wife is incredible at so many things, but when it comes to picture taking she is no better than I am.
With that said, I came across pics of our trip to Mexico over Christmas with my family. It was such a fabulous time, and these pictures made me laugh. So, here you go.
Tell me this. If your primary function was restaurant that served large quantities of alcoholic beverages, do you thin, the best idea is to put a floating trampoline 50 yards out into the water and then invite drinkers of said-alcohol to do flips into the water? I was trying to explain this to some friends today as we looked at the pics, and, despite trying to justify why drinking and swimming in deep water was perfectly rational at the time, I now realize that is a recipe for disaster. All the same, I am very impressed that Julie was able to snap some mid-air pictures.
On an entirely different note, I started a new book yesterday that I feel I should recommend. Due to reasons that I cannot now remember, I have been introduced in the last two years to Cormac McCarthy as a serious literary figure of the 21st Century. I read No Country for Old Men before the movie came out, finished his newest, The Road, this summer, and a few weeks ago I read the very controversial (at least in Texas) Child of God, but the one I have been waiting to read, Blood Meridian, which I have now heard two people I esteem greatly recommend, is quickly moving to the top of the heap. For those of you who have not given him a read, let me say that I believe it to be well worth your time. He has a straight-forward simplicity that does not overwhelm those interested in a light-read, but his story-telling is off the charts. For what it is worth, I thought I would throw that plug in.
Good night.
Rather than continue the tour of the apartment and the surrounding area, I wanted to show a couple of pictures that I found on the camera when I was uploading the pics from last night. Julie and I are the world's worst at documenting our lives visually. I am always so impressed with those people that always seem to have a camera with them, and they are able to remember every event through these digital pixelations. I assumed that such traits where indigenous to all women and a handful of men, sort of like fashion or a sense of cleanliness, but, alas, I was wrong. My wife is incredible at so many things, but when it comes to picture taking she is no better than I am.
With that said, I came across pics of our trip to Mexico over Christmas with my family. It was such a fabulous time, and these pictures made me laugh. So, here you go.
Tell me this. If your primary function was restaurant that served large quantities of alcoholic beverages, do you thin, the best idea is to put a floating trampoline 50 yards out into the water and then invite drinkers of said-alcohol to do flips into the water? I was trying to explain this to some friends today as we looked at the pics, and, despite trying to justify why drinking and swimming in deep water was perfectly rational at the time, I now realize that is a recipe for disaster. All the same, I am very impressed that Julie was able to snap some mid-air pictures.
On an entirely different note, I started a new book yesterday that I feel I should recommend. Due to reasons that I cannot now remember, I have been introduced in the last two years to Cormac McCarthy as a serious literary figure of the 21st Century. I read No Country for Old Men before the movie came out, finished his newest, The Road, this summer, and a few weeks ago I read the very controversial (at least in Texas) Child of God, but the one I have been waiting to read, Blood Meridian, which I have now heard two people I esteem greatly recommend, is quickly moving to the top of the heap. For those of you who have not given him a read, let me say that I believe it to be well worth your time. He has a straight-forward simplicity that does not overwhelm those interested in a light-read, but his story-telling is off the charts. For what it is worth, I thought I would throw that plug in.
Good night.
I know that I have already met my self-imposed blogging requirement for the day, but after sitting for a few minutes out on the balcony with my trusty black pipe burning strong in the cool breeze (I cannot believe how pleasant the weather has been in the evenings this week), I could not resist posting a picture or two of our new neighbors.
More pics are coming soon, but I am a fan of a slow-reveal, so for now enjoy the view that I am taking in at this very moment.
Are you ready, Blogworld? There is a better than zero chance that I will fail miserably at what I am going to try and do for the next month, but I am putting it out there nonetheless. I have been inconsistent at best with this whole blogging things, and I realize, much to my vanity's dismay, that I have been neglecting the only form of communication that I have with some friends and family. I also have recognized how much I enjoy other people's blogs, even when they only write a few lines of update. With these things in mind, I am committing to myself to blog, be it short or long, quality or drivel (I really know how to sell it, huh?) that I will blog everyday for the next month (by the way, this counts for today....even if I stop after this sentence).
I will get to the move, including pictures, very soon, but I will start with what is going on in the immediate moment. At this moment I am sitting in a place I was sure I never would again. I turned in my resignation, said my goodbyes and drove away from POPCS in May with dreams of a life devoted to my own academic pursuits apart from the cares of sixteen-year-olds, but, alas, here I sit behind the same desk (it's actually a different desk in a different room, but that does not sound nearly so romantic) preparing for another school year. A very nice part-time position was offered to me this summer that I could not pass up, and so I have been neck-deep in meetings and high school trivialities this week. Here is the funny thing, though. I remember hating much of these meetings last year, dreading each day of sitting and being bombarded with rules and procedures, but this year is entirely different. I am not sure if it is purely a matter of knowing my colleagues like old friends, or no longer being overwhelmed by the newness of the place, or maybe it is just a matter of not being tethered to a full-time position here, but I find this place quite enjoyable....even the boring meetings have been pleasant.
More to come later, but for now I need to do some of the work they are paying me for.
I will get to the move, including pictures, very soon, but I will start with what is going on in the immediate moment. At this moment I am sitting in a place I was sure I never would again. I turned in my resignation, said my goodbyes and drove away from POPCS in May with dreams of a life devoted to my own academic pursuits apart from the cares of sixteen-year-olds, but, alas, here I sit behind the same desk (it's actually a different desk in a different room, but that does not sound nearly so romantic) preparing for another school year. A very nice part-time position was offered to me this summer that I could not pass up, and so I have been neck-deep in meetings and high school trivialities this week. Here is the funny thing, though. I remember hating much of these meetings last year, dreading each day of sitting and being bombarded with rules and procedures, but this year is entirely different. I am not sure if it is purely a matter of knowing my colleagues like old friends, or no longer being overwhelmed by the newness of the place, or maybe it is just a matter of not being tethered to a full-time position here, but I find this place quite enjoyable....even the boring meetings have been pleasant.
More to come later, but for now I need to do some of the work they are paying me for.
