ATLA in Ottawa (Day 1)

I've been in Ottawa, Canada for the past two days now. I'm attending the ATLA (American Theological Librarian Association) conference. I've never been to Canada, in spite of the fact that I only live about 5 or 6 hours away by car. I flew into the Ottawa airport, which I've been told is a whole lot better than the Toronto airport by the locals. Quite a difference from Newark, which is total chaos—I was surprised to see the radio tower popping up from a green hill, a grassy clearing surrounded by what appeared to be pine trees. Our passengers were the only ones at the airport, besides the folks who worked there.

On the shuttle bus over, I met a gentleman who was attending the conference, and he introduced me to a few others that he knew at the hotel. A group of us ended up heading to a pub in the Byward Market (Marché By), and having a number of interesting conversations about Canadian politics, beer, travel, library systems, and life in general. It was a great evening, but I was really tired this morning.

Today's conference sessions were optional workshops, and I ended up going to two sessions. The first session was on writing for Theological Librarianship, the new peer-reviewed journal published by ATLA. Beth Bidlack was the main presenter of this session, and she gave a lot of excellent tips on researching, writing, and revising in general for scholarly articles. The main thrust of her talk included three things: 1. Use questions to narrow your interests into a specific topic, 2. Read your work critically (and have others do the same) to find areas that are overdeveloped or underdeveloped, and 3. Think about who your audience is, and what you want them to do with the information you are giving them.
We then had breakout sessions to discuss different types of contributions: bibliographic essays, reviews, and articles. I was in the articles session. Dr. Ron Crown, one of the editors, led the session, and discussed specific guidelines for submission and answered questions about specific topics. Overall it was very useful, and Beth provided a bibliography of resources for writers that looks very much on target.

The second session I attended was on the new CONSER standard record for serials. (Non-catalogers can just skip right over this paragraph). It was presented by Judy Knop, ATLA's digitization coordinator. I could tell that these were modified from a PCC CONSER presentation, most likely one given by LC. Judy did a great job of modifying the slides to make them clear, concise, and helpful. The biggest change in serials has been simplification to promote access and decrease description. Apparently RDA is also going in this direction. Currently, if one follows the CONSER minimum standards, it will be simple if one only does serials cataloging, but if you also do monograph cataloging, there is some contradiction with AACR2, though Judy said the LCRIs have been updated to reflect the CONSER changes. It's both good and bad; the simplification of the standard makes it easier for the average non-serials librarian to enter CONSER level records, but you lose your breadcrumb trail through the record's history. If there are no notes, how the heck do I know what was done before and for what reasons? The CONSER committee has a proposal in to MARBI to add certain 5XX fields for CONSER standard notes; having separate fields would allow the sys admins to suppress those fields in the OPAC, but still allow them to be available for the catalogers. One way that notes are being eliminated is by adding $i's to the 710 added entries (similar to those added to linking entries), so that you can see the year(s) that a particular corporate body was involved in the publication (this is still a MARBI proposal, not a fait accompli). At the end of the session Judy asked about interest in a CONSER funnel, with the only requirement being NACO corporate body training; independent status was not necessary. I'm definitely interested in doing this, and let her know.

OK, there were too many acronyms in that last paragraph. Such is the plight of the librarian. This evening I skipped out on the receptions and took a long walk through town, hitting a couple of different pubs for dinner and drinks (and a visit to the drugstore for some things I forgot to bring). Ottawa is not really like any other place I've been. The best description I can come up with is that it's like an integration of Oxford, England and Madison, Wisconsin, without Oxford's ROS (Really Old Stuff). The buildings are gorgeous, and the town is overflowing with culture. Even with all of the college kids out on the town, it still feels more like a European city, though one could easily imagine the Madison farmer's market, or the night life on State Street. So far, I like it a lot.

I will write more tomorrow, after the day's session.

Erik Estrada and Sexual Predators

I found this link via another blog that I read:
Erik Estrada Having an Actual Conversation with a Sexual Predator

So, sexual predators remember--you might not be talking to some cute young thing--you may be talking to Erik Estrada.

Let that be a lesson to you.

Angel of Death (Weekly World News)

I didn't know the Eagles were touring.

THE LAZER COLLECTION

I don't get this at all. But I can't stop watching it:

Hotness

Maybe it is the 96 degrees plus high humidity here this week, but I’ve been thinking a lot about “hotness”. By that I mean “hotness” in the sense of “attractiveness”.
I don’t normally spend time thinking about this. But recently a Facebook friend of mine invited me to add the “Hot, Cute, or Okay?” application. So, I thought, what the heck, why not. I was rather surprised to see the number of guys—cute guys (!)—who rated me as “hot”, or even as “cute”. Perhaps some of it should be taken with a grain of salt.

But more interesting to me was my own response: “why would a guy find me hot?” Mind you, I don’t think I’m an ugly person, or even undesirable. But somehow I don’t think of myself as having “hotness”.

When I was in my teens, I had a cute body but a terrible face—I had lots of skin problems. My nose was also too large and out of proportion (that was fixed 20 years ago via plastic surgery). Over the years, the cruel hormones of teen years have turned kinder, and not only have my major skin issues disappeared, I also look much younger than my actual years. I’ve inherited my father’s skin—he had skin issues similar to mine, but at the age of 76, he has very few wrinkles at all. Mom doesn’t look so bad, either at 70. So, what was a liability is now something envied by my contemporaries. However, in this bargain, I have traded an awesome figure for one that I merely consider OK. I’m not fat, but I’m not as skinny as I used to be, either. My Mom being a size 4 does not help that image. I’ve noticed that my body type is not necessarily a problem for guys; girls seem to think that they have to be very thin, while guys like a few curves. I’m still a size 8, which I’ve been most of my life.

So, all things considered, I should be pretty satisfied with my appearance, and overall I’m not complaining. But I’m still shocked by the idea that someone would consider me “hot”. I don’t think I’ve let go of the physical insecurities of my younger years, in spite of all the revelations and enlightened moments I’ve had about self-image and popular culture.

Which leads me to flirting problems. When men flirt with me, I don’t really know how to respond. I either think they’re joking, or I’m embarrassed. So, my apologies to my male friends out there who have gotten flirty with me and were met by silence or an awkward response. It’s not personal. Really. As I told someone recently, I’m a retarded flirt.

The other problem I have is the relationship problem. In spite of the fact that many dating relationships do not end up as serious relationships, some backwards part of my brain still evaluates long-term possibilities when considering a date with a guy. I’m not a fan of marriage, having suffered through that for many years, but what the heck do I want anyway? One day I’m happy to have a fling, the next day it’s long-term or forget it. Not knowing what I want has been a problem, and has made me something of a hermit.

Sex is yet another thing. I have a very sexual side, but usually it’s hidden. I’m not into the idea of getting down and dirty with strangers, and like the flirting problem, I still feel awkward about being “sexual”. Maybe astrology has the answer—in my chart, Venus and Mars (sexual and aggressive energies) are in the 12th house—the house of hidden things and fears—along with Saturn, which is the planetary influence that puts the brakes on everything. As one astrologer told me, “It’s not that you’re not sexual. It just expresses itself very awkwardly.” That does seem to fit.

In a wider perspective, I don’t think I’m the only woman who feels this way. Thoughts, anyone?

"The Ivory Tower Basement"

This morning I found an article from Atlantic Monthly in my RSS feeds called “The Ivory Tower Basement”, written by a community college adjunct professor identified only as “Professor X” who teaches basic English composition courses. He discusses the American ideal of everyone being educated, and everyone going to college. Yet, it is clear to him that not everyone should go to college; not everyone has the aptitude. He fears that he sounds like an intellectual snob for even saying it, but the facts speak for themselves.

In one of my many roles, I am also an adjunct professor, in Library or Educational Media programs. These are usually graduate level courses at universities, and for the most part, I don’t run into the kinds of issues that are cited in the article. However, I did teach aspiring school librarians at a particular place that shall remain unnamed, and I was appalled at the writing and grammar skills possessed (or not) by many of them. They were graduate students, but felt no need to pay attention in class. They were very vocal about their grades, as they needed a certain grade to get compensation from their districts. Some of them were very good students, but the bad ones really stood out to me, mainly because they WERE schoolteachers. All I could think was, “you can’t even put a basic sentence together, and you’re teaching elementary school children??” How do these people get into a college course, never mind graduate school?

The university I work for (not the same as the school mentioned above) has prided itself on being a “business school” for years. I work in the university library, and we get copies of students’ Masters’ theses. It is rather disconcerting to see the misspellings and poor grammar in many of these theses—and astonishing to see the professors who have signed off on them. Some of the misspellings are right on the title page of the work. Nothing like ruining your university’s graduate program reputation right on the first page!

The Atlantic article got me thinking of all of the teacher/student conundrums I have come across on both sides of the fence. As a freshmen in college, I didn’t have my priorities straight the first year, which is probably not uncommon. After my first “C”, I decided I had to get my act together, and was nearly a straight-A student after that. When I went for my first Master’s degree, I was taking 5 classes (NOT recommended), working 3 jobs, and was a newlywed in what turned out to be the Marriage From Hell. By the end of my first semester I had mononucleosis. I was still in the MFH while working on my second Master’s, and was in a corporate job that gave me a grand total of 9 days off per year. Once I left my corporate job for a university job, it became easier to do my graduate work because I had more time and breathing space.

Why even mention these things? Because I know what it’s like to be a student under pressure. I have been blessed with the ability to write and have a command of the English language, which is probably how I got through most of my coursework at those rough times. But even with that aptitude, I found it very difficult at times to balance my family life, work life, and school life. When I look at my graduate students, I tend to be more lenient, because I have a pretty good sense of what they’re going through. However, that doesn’t mean compromising academic integrity. I agree that you don’t do students any favors by giving them grades they don’t deserve.

From my own experience, I have seen 3 reasons why students do not excel:

1. Life gets in the way (students are too tired/overwhelmed to make the effort)
2. Students are not making the effort out of laziness or indifference
3. Students are making the effort, but don’t have the competence to excel

I think many graduate students, and students who return to school after many years, fall into the first category. The second category is a frustrating one, if not understandable from time to time; the fact is that students are just not interested in some of the courses they have to take. Students in the third category should not have been steered towards college at all, but go anyway because it’s the only way to get a job, or be promoted.

In a country that does value education (and as someone who personally values education), it sounds outrageous to say that some folks shouldn’t go to college. But it would be nice if our culture did not tout the college degree as the calling card of intelligence and ability. I can see the value of a liberal arts education in terms of teaching people about the wider world and how to evaluate its ideas. But do students really care about that? How many times have I heard “I’m going to take courses that will get me a job, not this philosophy stuff”? The word “scholar” comes from the Latin word “schola”, meaning “leisure”. The idea was that a scholar had time to contemplate the world—that person was a person of “leisure”. They were not out plowing the fields or doing other kinds of labor. While that kind of separation seems elitist today, it is clear that trying to marry the college-as-vocation view with the scholarship-as-contemplation view does not always work out so well. Both types of skills are needed for different reasons, but not everyone is suited for both.

I will be teaching undergraduates for the first time this Fall in my pet subject, Religious Studies. It will be interesting to see how that experience compares to the graduate teaching experience. I hope that I will not encounter the same issues “Professor X” encountered, as I am not at a “college of last resort”, but I need to be prepared for anything.

The Onion (again): Teen Discovers Led Zeppelin

Normally I don't do 2 Onion posts in a day, but I just saw this one and nearly spit my tea across the room...

Teen Who Just Discovered Led Zeppelin Starting To Piss Off Friends

The Onion: Everything Falling Apart

Everything Falling Apart, Reports Institute For Somehow Managing To Hold It All Together

Brigid Meditation 2: Entitlement and Boundaries

August 25, 2002

Recently I have been confronted with reoccurring themes of entitlement, obligation, and boundaries.

The first two appear to be dysfunctions of the virtue of sharing. Dysfunction may be too strong of a word, however, in the context of boundaries. If a friend continually takes you out to dinner, or buys you gifts, it is taken as an act of generosity at first. But if it is often repeated with no opportunity for return, a sense of obligation ensues.

If a person has any sense about the virtue of sharing, they will feel some guilt at being something of a “parasite”. If the giver expects something in return for his or her gifts or services, then it is not unconditional giving – there is a sense of entitlement, of getting something deserved in return. This is not restricted to gift-giving; it can happen between an employer and an employee. I work in government, where people are frequently underpaid, and this sense of entitlement rears its ugly head quite often. Two things should be borne in mind. One, non-attached giving is always more satisfactory than attached giving. In a microcosm/macrocosm sense, ideals and goals that have worldly attachments are also not as satisfactory as detached ones; one is always left wanting. The sense of entitlement in such mundane circumstances is often a reflection of the internal dissatisfaction. The second thing to be borne in mind is the big picture. Using the job analogy, one may be underpaid, but they might have airtight job security and excellent benefits. Sometimes one has a lenient employer who does not nickel and dime you for every minute worked. If one is really very unhappy and cannot rid themselves of the sense of entitlement, then it could be a sign of boredom or stagnation, in which case the best choice is to leave and find a more satisfactory situation. It should be remembered that whatever the new situation brings, it will be lacking in some area—no situation is “perfect.” To quote Amy Zerner: “Dissatisfaction results from wanting things to be as they are not. Feel the goodness in things staying as they are.”

In the case of obligation within relationships, this is almost never healthy in the long term. For example, a relationship with an alcoholic often becomes an enabler/victim scenario. One enables the alcoholic when they pick up the slack for their neglected responsibilities. Often this is because the consequences of the alcoholic’s non-responsibility negatively affects the enabler. As a result, the alcoholic/victim will always assume they will be bailed out of any trouble they cause, and do not cease in the offending behavior. In short—they never grow as human beings. The only way to deal with such a situation is to cut bait and let this person make their own way. Here we come into the domain of boundaries and detached love—you love someone enough to let them make their own mistakes. Support is one thing, taking over someone else’s responsibilities is another. The Divine/Universe never gives us more than we can handle. If the alcoholic fails, he or she has no one to blame but him/herself, which is the hardest thing to accept.

I will take a side trip here into issues of control and accountability. Sometimes we become enmeshed in another’s problems to feel good about ourselves. This is another ego attachment. I call it the “martyr syndrome”—one does good works simply to show the world that they do good works. Ammachi has pointed out that selfless giving comes only from God; all other giving has some kind of selfish motive. One of the great mysteries of human relationships is that sometimes one is more compassionate in cutting someone off than in continuing this kind of control/controller bond. Without animosity, you can let someone go, that they may find their way and not use you as a crutch. They may not learn, and may find others to fill the same function, but that is not your concern.

Being too concerned with another’s problems is often the consequence of avoiding self-knowledge. We seek to fix the problems of others, because we see reflected in them our projection of the problems we need to fix within ourselves. Projections are dangerous, and cause people to think that they must know what’s best for another human being. They rob that person of the chance to “do it themselves”. Pity is a deplorable feeling because it falls into this category. Pity says, “I feel sorry for you because you’re not like me.” It’s a hugely egotistical statement.

Speaking of “like me”—have you noticed that a definition of “normal” could be “like me”? We consider those who are not like us to be “strange”. This again is a problem of ego attachment—we identify ourselves with our myths and our worldly status, and do not see the Universe as a whole. Our lives become the model for the lives of others. “We are actors playing a role so well that we have forgotten that we are actors.” It is necessary to develop Self-awareness, to be able to discriminate between Self and worldly persona. Even if we are not fully Self-aware, this insight can be monumentally helpful in “performing right action.” No longer burdened by those illusions, we can look at other human beings with detached compassion.

Ceiling-Catism

As you know, I am a huge fan of LOLcats. I have noticed that the Ceiling Cat pictures have taken on a full theology of their own, and can now be considered a religion. All the elements are there:

There is a Deity:



There is a Creation Myth:




There is a Scripture:




There is Theodicy:




There is a theology to go along with the Theodicy:






There is a Sotierology:



There is a Religious Order:



There is Proselytization:




And a few religious crazies:



Finally (so to speak), there is an Eschatology:



So, likes, everywun shud wershup de Ceiling Cat, k?

Brigid Meditation 1: The Self

August 24, 2002

There are two entirely different definitions of the word “self”. In the more familiar sense, “self” has to do with the ego—as in “selfish” or “selfless”. It is essentially worldly, because it puts the wants of the individual before the needs of others. Philip Berg (The Essential Zohar) described addiction as a misplaced longing for God. Similarly, the materialistic goals of the ego are a substitute for the ultimate satisfaction of Union with God. But, as Paul Tillich noted (Dynamics of Faith), all concerns that are not the Ultimate Concern will ultimately lead to disillusionment. Addictive behaviors, such as drinking and smoking, are temporary fixes used to contend with disappointments of disillusionment. One might be disillusioned with the government, with one’s family, with one’s church, or with a lover. Whatever it may be, it was someone or something held as a high ideal by that person. And, like all “worldly attachments”, it will ultimately let us down.

Which brings me to the other definition of “self”. This is Self with a capital “s”, for it is the realized Self. If we follow what Tillich says, faith in worldly attachments and literalist interpretations of faith that are tied up with our egos and neuroses are idolatrous. Then, if true faith is Ultimate Concern, then it has to do with who we really are and why we are here. This is why self-realization is very important. It is required to understand these very things. Introspection has no relationship to selfishness; on the contrary, it is a tool for rising above the mundane, and seeing the Divine in oneself, and in everyone else. Carl Jung, the first psychoanalyst to introduce the idea of self-realization, did not really believe it was possible for humans to become totally self-realized or “individuated”. Indeed, there are few realized Selfs walking around on this Earth. But of those who are, you would notice a lack of “selfishness”. In fact, such people are often selfless, wishing to help others fulfill their purpose and put an end to suffering.

What are the “purposes of humanity”? The Ultimate goal, which can be seen in the mysticism of any religion, is Union with God (or whatever you prefer to call that ultimate consciousness/reality). This means dissolution of the Ego and the willingness of the soul to collapse into No-Thing, which is actually a Divine Bliss. In a Kabbalistic metaphor, the Tree of Life retracts upon itself. If I may attempt to use a metaphorical image: if we picture God as a Great Man of Light, then humans are the reflection of this Great Man. There is a Jewish term for this Great Man: Adam Kadmon. The Divine Reflection is made up of a sea of Divine fires, and these are individual souls. Because they are the Divine Reflection, they are really a part of “God”. However, there is a veil drawn between the manifested Divine Reflection (which could be called “God’s creation”) and the Divine Itself, so that we cannot in fact see that we are part of the Divine. The Kabbalistic term for this veil is the tzimtzum. The Kabbalistic tradition says that the Messiah will come and the world will end when Adam Kadmon becomes fully conscious of what he Is. This would require all souls to be aware of their Divine origin and connection.

However, the path to self-knowledge is difficult, and once a soul achieves something like self-realization, it faces many dangers. This is called the Lucifer aspect of Tiphareth. Tiphareth is the middle sephiroth of the Tree of Life, and is often represented as Moses standing on Mt. Sinai—you can look up and see the “face of God” and also look down and see the Kingdom from a broader perspective. ShTain (Satan) appears at this point to see if we can be drawn back to the worldly—our worthiness is tested (see Job AND Jesus’ temptation). People who practice Satanism are folks who often reach a point of self-realization, but they think of it as a self-contained phenomenon (self rather than Self, their individual selves rather that the Whole)—and so they see themselves as Divine and no one else. Because they are tied up in self and not Self, they are often hedonistic—interested in their own material pleasures and pursuits rather than moving beyond their realization to become one with the Whole. They believe they can control others because they “are” God. An O.T.O. Brother once noted with amusement that “Satanists shake their fist at an empty sky, and yet create their circles invoking the high Holy names of God.” This is highly illogical, as you could not be protected by something that isn’t supposed to exist. This inherent contradiction is evidence of the self/Self mix-up.

The Brigid Meditations

Starting today, I am going to post a series of things that I wrote back in 2002-2003. To give you some background--I had just met Ammachi, had discovered Thelema, and was spending hours on prayer, meditation, and introspection. It was difficult to ground myself in the material world in those days, and I had frequently contemplated the idea of joining a religious order, or otherwise committing to a life of contemplation and silence. That was not to be, and I've found myself trying to integrate that silence and contemplation with my crazy/insane life.

I recently rediscovered these writings, when I was looking for notes for a book I am currently working on. Given the state of mind I was in when I wrote these, I find them very interesting. I'm curious to see what you think. Feel free to comment!

American Government and the Will of the People

In the last couple of weeks, I finally finished the book “Unruly Americans and the Origins of the Constitution” by Woody Holton. The book is an account of American government during the days of the Articles of Confederation, and all of the chaos that ensued from the economics of that period. Paper money was virtually worthless, government bonds couldn’t be repaid, and there was little actual gold and silver to go around. There was a constant battle between debtors and creditors that often caused taxes to go unpaid, and gave the new nation a bad credit rating with other countries. Holton goes into great detail about these things, quoting extensively from primary sources. This should be interesting, but frequently it gets tedious. In certain parts of the text, I felt like I was reading the same thing over and over again for pages at a time. This is why it took me so long to finish the book (about 3 or 4 months).

Towards the end of the text, Holton discusses the Constitutional Convention. It was supposed to be a session for the revising of the Articles of Confederation, but many of those attending the Convention had a total overthrow of the Articles in mind when they sat down to the table, though they did not mention this to their constituents, or at the Convention, at least not initially. If they had told their constituents what they had in mind, they probably would have never been sent to the Convention in the first place. Amid this discussion, there was a quote that stuck with me: “[An] elected representative is not simply an instrument of his constituents’ will. He is instead an independent thinker who ought to execute justice as he himself defines it” (p. 181).

This is fascinating, as much as it is ironic. If the members of the Convention had not been swayed to this type of thinking, the Constitution may not have happened, and the United States may have failed as a nation.

So, in turn, I find myself thinking about our current governmental situation. Most of us who despise Bush as a President do so because he is often deaf to the will of the people. He most certainly “execute(s) justice as he himself defines it.” A characteristic of the Constitutional Convention had been the economic standing of those present—all the delegates were wealthy men, and represented their own interests. One criticism of the current Republican government is the favoring of the wealthy and of big business. In short, things don’t appear to have changed much ideologically. What is interesting is that this attitude is what saved our country early on, but currently it appears to be destroying it.

What is the difference here, or more importantly, what is the historical lesson? It seems to me that this lopsided representation doesn’t have to have a negative result. I am not implying that I think Bush has made the right choices in his tenure. If anything, it may prove that ideologies have spectra within themselves, and no one ideology works for all situations. The same medicine obviously does not cure all ills.

Pope Benedict XVI and Relativism

Recently, the new Pope came to the United States. I did not go to see him; however, I did watch a couple of specials on him on the Catholic channel (EWTN). There was an article on him in the New York Times, and another in the Newark Star Ledger. I haven't read either of them yet. However, from what I've gleaned from recent news articles and the Catholic channel specials, there is more to Pope Benedict that initially meets the eye.

For one—I share one great passion with him: books. He begged John Paul II not to take him away from his great library in Bavaria. If he hadn't joined the Church, I'd bet the man would have become a professional cataloger. He fits the stereotype—shy, bookish, not wanting to go out and entertain the general public. As a professional cataloger myself, I run into this stereotype all the time; I sort of fit it, but not in an extreme way. In any case, I understand the desire to be buried by books and avoid the idiocies and politics of the organization. Part of his negative reputation no doubt stems from his introversion—he is not charismatic in the way John Paul II was.

However, there is a downside to his insular, bookish approach to Catholicism. For all of the theologizing Benedict has done, it has isolated him in some respects from the real world and how it operates. This does not make him unique compared to a lot of priests, but it's more noticed because of his office—previously as a Cardinal, and now as Pope.

Before becoming Pope, Cardinal Ratzinger made some interesting statements. He blames the Church for turning the Mass into an empty recitation of formulas. The hollowness of much Catholic faith clearly disturbs him, and he is right to be disturbed. But it was one telling statement in particular that made my eyebrows go up, even though it really shouldn't; Ratzinger talked about the rise of “relativism” in Church culture—by telling the faithful that there are no absolute truths, they fall prey to a relativism that has a selfish egoism as its goal. I seem to remember him throwing mysticism of certain types into that category.

This is where I disagree with Ratzinger's theology, or at least it shows how Church theology does not square with life as people experience it. The goal of relativism is not egoism. The problem is that the faithful are told that there is only one version of the truth, and then their life experiences teach them in no uncertain terms that this cannot be so. Their life experiences do not jive with Church teachings. Certain issues like abortion and homosexuality are NOT black and white issues, and the faithful come to an uneasy realization about this that leads to conflict.

To give an example: my Mom told me about a Sunday in her church where the priest passed around a “pro-life” petition that all parishioners were asked to sign. He actually watched to see who signed and who didn't. In the end, most parishioners didn't sign. Why? Because they're in favor of abortion? Probably not. But they are uneasy with the idea that abortion is wrong in all cases. What if a father rapes his daughter and she gets pregnant? That's a tough one. Could you blame the girl for wanting an abortion? The alternative is to have no safe alternative, and we know the kinds of horrors that occurred prior to Roe v. Wade. The Church's hard-line teaching on abortion didn't come about until the 19th century—prior to that, they believed abortion was wrong after the second trimester, which is in line with Jewish teaching as well. So what changed? Did someone suddenly have a revelation from God that all abortion is wrong? Of course not. The Church was losing members. By not allowing the faithful to have abortions, and disallowing birth control, they hoped to increase the Church population. The reasons are political, not spiritual. And it has ballooned into a huge political issue, a sort of "litmus test" of a good Christian in more conservative circles who actually think being a Christian is a prerequisite for public office.

When “good Catholics” who are sincere about their faith find these things out, it causes serious struggles psychologically. This can cause them to either break with the Church, disregard most of Church dogma in favor of relativism, or embrace its doctrine in a “forced literalist” kind of way.

So, if the Pope is looking to keep members who are “healthy” Christians, he really needs to think his position on relativism, as do the theologians of the Vatican and elsewhere. I agree with Pope Benedict when he says theology should be a “guideline”--guideline necessarily means that it is not an absolute interpretation. From a faith point of view—how you can determine or control the will of God? Who says that God follows the rules you've laid out? It's pure hubris to think that the Ultimate only works within the limitations of our own religious thinking. The Ultimate is beyond our comprehension, and our level of surrender must therefore be flexible, open to whatever we are presented with. Too often the lessons learned from experiences do not jive with man-made doctrines, no matter how inspired or well-thought-out. Discriminating between right and wrong is not usually simple and straightforward.

Robyn Hitchcock and Nick Lowe at Manhattan Center

I saw Robyn Hitchcock and Nick Lowe at the Manhattan Center last night. I met up with a friend and colleague of mine and her husband before the show at Tir Na Nog’s, which proved to be a great find—there aren’t too many great restaurants right around Penn Station. After some chaos with line management (not to mention that you need to take the elevator to the 7th floor to get to the Grand Ballroom—is that a fire hazard?), we got into the venue, and were surprised that there were assigned seats. After having some cabernet, I left my friends to return to my own seat.

Both sets were purely acoustic, and both performers are great performers. They keep the show interesting with their patter, and the songs they played were great. Robyn Hitchcock came on first. I have to admit that I do not know Robyn Hitchcock’s catalog of music that well—the couple of albums I do know I absolutely love. With a lot of songs I often find the music moves me more than the lyrics, but Robyn Hitchcock is a great lyricist, so I find the reverse is true with him (not to slight the music, which is also excellent). He chattered about Ghandi sleeping with a Fender Telocaster (which he never touched—he just kept it there to prove he was above temptation), and how tuning a guitar is representative of “consensus”—there are 3 strings that need to be tuned. He is tuning 2 of those. The third one is probably already in tune, but he needs to coordinate it with the other two. A sort of metaphor for “consensus” on the Iraq war, he noted. He played for about 50 minutes, and ended with a song he was asked to write for the 60th anniversary of the Declaration of Human Rights document writing, which was amazing (though he couldn’t understand why they didn’t ask David Crosby instead of him).

Nick Lowe came on next. He was suffering from a throat infection that he “smuggled in” from the UK, and had a sort of pride in the fact that American medicines for this sort of thing just could not take it down. This was by way of apology for the fact that he would probably hit some strange notes that evening, and we would probably be able to pick them out.

Nick is releasing a new album, and re-releasing much of his old stuff as well, hence the tour. The show was a little over an hour. He didn’t play too many new songs—he noted that when people pay good money to see a show, and the performer says “We’re going to perform a new song”, the audience tends to fall into two camps. The first camp says, “Bring it on, we can’t get enough of it,” the second camp says, “How long will this take?” Nick confessed to being one of the second camp, and assured the “second-campers” in the audience that it wouldn’t take long at all. The new song was called, “I Read a Lot,” and was more in the country style that Nick seems to prefer on his later albums. I had been hoping he would play my two favorite songs by him—“Cruel to be Kind,” and “All Men are Liars,” and he delighted me by playing both.

Here is the set list, not necessarily in perfect order. If I’m missing songs (and I feel like I am), feel free to correct me if you’re reading this and attended the show:

People Change
What’s Shakin’ on the Hill
Long Limbed Girl
All Men are Liars
I Trained Her to Love Me
When I Write the Book
Lately I’ve Let Things Slide
Has She Got a Friend?
I Read a Lot
Cruel to be Kind
Without Love
Hope For Us All
Rome Wasn’t Built in a Day
I Live on a Battlefield
Shelley My Love
Man That I’ve Become
I Knew the Bride When She Used to Rock ‘n’ Roll
What’s So Funny About Peace Love and Understanding?

MAAR, Part 2: Friday

The Religion and Literature Panel, presided over by Johanna Monighan-Schaefer from Dickinson College

This by far was my favorite part of the program. There were actually 5 papers presented on this panel, and all of them were excellent. Some speakers were better presenters than others, but the ideas presented were all intriguing nonetheless.

The first paper was called “Irreverent Revelation: Paradoxical Powers of Religious Fiction” by Dr. Stephen M. Johnson of Montclair State University. I am partial to presentations by Dr. Johnson, namely because I took 4 classes with him as an undergraduate at MSU. He gets at least part of the credit for my continued interest in Religious Studies.

Dr. Johnson spoke about a book he reviewed recently called “Gothic Perspectives on the American Experience,” and is critical of the author for not including Flannery O'Connor or James Baldwin in his treatise. Dr. Johnson then goes on to talk about both writers—the bizarre characters of Flannery O' Connor, who were so disturbing that German editors asked her to remove some of them for German editions, as they would “offend German sensibilities.” He then reads excerpts from some of O'Connor's work, and from Baldwin's work. The basic themes discussed were the breakdown of cultural norms and beliefs that the “socially acceptable” have about themselves and those around them. He made strong recommendations to read both Baldwin and O'Connery.

The second paper was called “God and Time: Science Fiction and Theology” by James E. Siburt from Lancaster Theological Seminary. Using examples from three 21st century films (Donnie Darko, The Butterfly Effect, and The Jacket), Siburt examines our culture's obsession with time, and notes a progression in the films—they all depict time travel, but the protagonists have different levels of control over time in each film. In “The Jacket” the protagonist acts like Luis De Molina's conception of God—he enjoys a middle knowledge of multiple possibilities in the universe, and can choose the one he prefers. With the notions of time explored come the longing for a “better” time, the inevitable historicity of events, and the sense of responsibility one has regarding their control of time.

The third paper was called “Androgyny in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night: Middle Space between Gender Polarity as Sacred Paradox” by Philip Browning Helsel from Princeton Theological Seminary. Philip talked about the transgendered and homoerotic leanings in Twelfth Night, and notes that they are quietly swept away at the end of the film—the homoerotic relationships are unacknowledged, and the twins are each married to heterosexual partners. In examining the literary criticism on this play, Helsel noted two different schools of thought—Thomas McCleary's idea that the homoerotic relationships were “narcissistic developments” that lead to “appropriate object choice” by the end of the play. As Helsel accurately notes, this was an interpretation that did not come about until after Freud, which makes it suspect. There was a tendency in early psychology to pathologize non-normative behaviors, and homosexual orientation was one obvious example. The second line of interpretation has to do with changing views on gender at the time of Twelfth Night (around 1603). Hermaphroditic images were previously viewed as symbols of mystical perfection, the soul perfectly united with God. After this time, there was a sense that the hermaphrodite was a monstrosity. Twelfth Night seems to espouse both views.

I was reminded of the Shakespearean definition of comedy when I listened to this paper. Basically, the chief characters get married at the end of the play—that is the defining characteristic of a comedy. It has nothing to do with humor as such. The marriage is seen as a resolution, but it is not necessarily a “happy” resolution—there is much criticism about this on other Shakespearean comedies.

The fourth paper was Alexandra Carroll of Catholic University of America's “The Devil in the Darkness: Mikhail Bulgakov's Mysticism of Darkness in The Master and Margarita.” This discusses Bulgakov's unfinished novel, “The Master and Margarita” (which seemed pretty complete to Ms. Carroll), and the mystical themes in the novel. Of particular note is the fact that the Devil is not seen as harmful—he is in fact a conduit for the reunion of Margarita with the Master (Jesus). I listened to her description of the storyline and the images presented of Night and Day—and I realized just how Kabbalistic this novel is. One of the characters, an atheist, begins his journey after two separate occurrences involving moonlight. The moon in Kabbalah is in the sephiroth of Yesod, just above Malkuth. The spirtual seeker first begins their journey up the Tree of Life via Yesod. However it is only a beginning. All of the images—from coming out into Sunlight (Tiphareth) to the descent into Hell (crossing Da'ath) are part and parcel of the mystical experience as described through the Tree of Life. The understanding of Satan in this novel is consistent with the understanding of Satan in occultism. The Satanic influence is as much a part of creation as others—Light cannot be discerned without Shadow. This is also a strong concept in Tantra.

The fifth and final paper was called “Some of the Best Stuff God Did: The Paradoxical Relationship Between the Erotic and the Divine in the Color Purple” by Tolonda Henderson of New Brunswick Theological Seminary. In a very spirited presentation, Ms. Henderson discusses the conflict between the “respectable, Church-attending” relationship with “God” that is decidedly non-erotic with the idea that God made everything, and that one should delight in creation—reference was made to orgasm. She discussed the different characters in The Color Purple by Alice Walker, and demonstrates the growth and changes the characters underwent as their life experiences changed their concepts of God and themselves radically.


This was all I experienced of MAAR—I was rather exhausted from 3 non-stop days, so I ended up bowing out before the final sessions. Overall, I met some interesting people, and learned some new things. I also have a ton of new reading material (not that I don't already have a list that could fill a football stadium). Always at the beginning in spirituality and scholarship...

MAAR, Part 1: Thursday

It is no secret that I have a keen interest in the study of religion. While I am a librarian by trade, I like to keep current in the Religious Studies field. This is a bit different from being interested in religion from a personal faith perspective—it's about studying religion and how it functions in society.

This year, I decided to attend the MAAR (Mid-Atlantic American Academy of Religion) conference. I am a member of AAR, and I hope to attend the national conference in November. In the meantime, I was interested to see what was being presented locally.

I attend a lot of library conferences, and I noticed differences right away. Library conferences are now replete with blogs and wikis for conference-goers to post their comments or reviews, for presenters to post their presentations, and for the posting of generally useful information. Not so at this conference; it was suggested that this was not the bailiwick of those running the conference. I think I might volunteer to spearhead this for next year.

Blogging would be useful for this group, because the style of presentation is not via PowerPoint or a prepared talk—it's the literal reading of academic papers. Some presenters did have slides or videos to go along with their papers. Given the nature of the discipline, there isn't anything wrong with this—but as a listener, it is difficult to keep track of all the important details of a paper, especially if the presenter speaks very quickly. As you might expect, some presentations were better than others. Sometimes the speaker was clear, but the paper was too jargon-laden for any but those specifically involved with the same research to understand.

I obviously did not attend every session, but here are some of the highlights from those I did attend:

“Religious Experience and Sociopolitical Power” by Stephen S. Bush, Princeton University. Stephen talked about the study of mystical/religious experience. He defines 3 separate schools of thought with regard to the study of such experiences: a classical “perennialist” school (Rudolph Otto, William James, Mircea Eliade) which believes that the person's religious experience is central to understanding these experiences—there is a “mystical core” to these experiences.. Around the 1980s, a “constructivist” theory emerged (Steven Katz) that denied there is a “mystical” core to religious experiences. Current theoretical discourse can be seen in the works of Robert H. Sharf. Sharf believes that scholars do not have access to the minds of mystics, and therefore the mystical experience cannot be studied—only the language used to describe the experience can be studied. Bush believes that Sharf has some convincing arguments that should change the way we look at religious experiences. However, not all of Sharf's arguments are convincing. Bush points to a study done by R. Marie Griffith, in the book “God's Daughters,” which focuses on the women in a Pentecostal community, whose submission to the males in the community is one of their characteristics. Griffith examines this community with a “critical empathy” model; she does not condemn the women for being submissive. However, this does not mean that there should be no criticism at all. Griffith seeks to find a balance between criticism and empathy with this approach.

Bush uses this study as a starting point for talking about how religion and social power may intersect. Focusing only on this study, and stressing that these are only starting points and not an exhaustive list, Bush comes up with 4 types of relationships between experience and power in this group:

1.One who undergoes one or more experiences, validated by the group, may gain authority within the group.
2.The content of the experience may provide power (e.g., experiencing God as Father, Husband, Lover, etc.)
3.Experience may be a compensation for deprivation.
4.Experience may make a substantial contribution to the religious community.

I found these observations to be interesting. Bush had suggested that these might apply to other religious groups, but not necessarily so—a universalism of these relationships is not implied. I asked him about the absence of religious experience for these women. In traditional Western mysticism, the absence of experience can mean that one is moving on to the “next stage” of their mystical relationship with God—John of the Cross's “Dark Night of the Soul” for instance. Bush replied that for these women, the absence of experience sometimes offered frustration—a woman being prayed over by the community who does not get well is then accused of not having enough faith. The woman resents the judgment, but will not openly say so to the group. In my own opinion, I find this all interesting, because it shows how tangible experiences (feeling “on fire” with God's love, speaking in tongues, etc.) sometimes act as “proof” of religiosity to others, when the fact may be that these experiences mean nothing at all. It is entirely possible that one will become an “experience junkie”, and practice devotion only to try to get the experience. It is no different from any other kind of attachment (needing one's morning coffee, etc.). The fact that one may be given authority because of these experiences also implies a need to “keep it up” to prove that one is in “right” relationship to God. What is also ironic is that in the Bible, Thomas is often chastised for not believing until he “sees” proof for himself. Christians are exhorted to believe without the tangible proof. This seems to suggest the opposite in social settings. I do think this has applicability outside of Griffith's group of women.

“Spiritual Ecstasy and Death to Self in Bonaventure's Understanding of Contemplation” by Rebecca Howell, Lutheran Theological Seminary.

This was a very interesting talk on Bonaventure's Itinerarium Mentis in Deus and De Triplici Via. Bonaventure identifies with Pseudo-Dionysius, though his conclusions are different. Pseudo-Dionysius has a negative theology (God is not this, God is not that). Bonaventure sees the seeker as being brought to God via “death to self”. Howell notes that while St. Francis arose to the mountaintop and and receives an ecstatic vision that leaves him with the stigmata, Bonaventure climbs the same mountain and comes down with a book outline. She notes that while the deepest stages of contemplation are indescribable, Bonaventure manages to intellectualize them anyway. (This is actually a problem of all of mysticism--”let me describe my indescribable experience to you.”) She mentions the use of liturgical symbols—the impossibility of contemplating God without “material means” due to the limitations of the mind. This is reminiscent of Hindu Bhakta, where the devotee focuses on an image of God, not because the image is actually a “correct” image, but because it allows the devotee to focus their attention on the greater reality the image represents.
Howell also discusses the use of the “positive talk of God's names” to create a sort of spiritual ecstasy. This is also in line with Hindu conceptions—one recites a sahasranama stotra or an ashottara stotra or namavaali to create the same result. I was reminded of a talk by Dr. Lise Vail at Montclair State University, where she discussed the use and meaning of sounds in Hindu worship. The recitation of the names can bring about a harmonious vibration with that sound that is synonymous with what we call “God”, or the ultimate reality.

I was also struck by the similarities between Bonaventure and St. Teresa of Avila—both cite seven levels of contemplation, with both conceptions including a sense of darkness or suffering, and a sense of silence/negation in which one realizes that God cannot be truly apprehended by the mind or intellect.

“The Mercy and Justice of God: Tertullian's Understanding of God's Preference for Repentance over Death” by Mark A. Frisius, Marymount University.
Mark's paper discussed Tertullian's writings in response to two writers in particular—Marcion and Valentian. Marcion suggested that the problem of God's mercy vs. his punishment could be resolved by suggesting that there were 2 gods—one was the Old Testament God that punished, one was the New Testament God that was merciful. Tertullian countered that God is goodness, and that any punishment meted out by God is for the greater Good of the person and humanity. Tertullian also suggested, against the views of the Gnostics (Valentian) that martyrdom was also a good thing. He believed that martyrdom led to eternal life, rather than permanent death. I am reminded of Elaine Pagel's book on the Gospel of Judas—the writer was in clear opposition to Tertullian's view (see my earlier blog posting on this).

Tertullian was extremely hardcore in the strictness of his belief. He did not think that anyone who was not Christian could be saved, and that once someone became a Christian, they absolutely could not ever sin again—it was unforgivable. Apparently there were some venial sins that could be forgiven with severe penances and public humiliation, but Tertullian doesn't say what these are. He was appalled by the idea that anyone should be allowed to sin. His eventual alliance with the Montanists was probably due to their severity and strictness. Eventually Tertullian fell out of favor with the Church—it was apparent that no one could ever meet his vision of the true Christian.

It occurred to me while Mark was speaking that Tertullian would have made a great subject for an Eriksonian psychohistory. Hmm...

“Job's Wife and the History of Consequences: a Lecture in Slides: Jewish, Christian, and Muslim Interpretations,” by Choon-Leong Seow, Princeton Theological Seminary (SBL Plenary Talk)

I am not a member of SBL, but I attended this anyway. Dr. Seow was a fantastic speaker and presenter. He discussed the common conceptions of Job's wife as a shrew and a temptress. He examines the Biblical text, and finds that in the original language, Job's wife does not tell Job to “curse” God, but rather to “say some words to him so that he may die”. Dr. Seow suggests that this is because the wife is moved by his suffering, and thinks he would be better off dead than to live in such a way, without regard for her own widowhood if that were to happen. There is no suggestion that she has done anything wrong, or that Job is angry with her, even though he refuses to do what she asks. Muslims interpret Job's wife as an example of compassion, and Dr. Seow showed photographs of artwork depicting Job's wife from various churches and texts from around the world to support his agreement with that thesis.

Stay tuned for Part 2, the Friday session...

Rutlemania in New York

Wednesday night I went to New York to see Rutlemania. If you don't know who the Rutles are, you definitely need to check out their 1978 TV movie, “All you need is cash”. The easiest way to explain the Rutles is that they are a Monty Python-type spoof on the Beatles. Instead of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, you have Nasty, Dirk, Stig, and Barry. Eric Idle is one of the Rutles (Dirk), as is Neil Innes (Nasty). Neil Innes was in the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band in the 1960s—and if you had the privilege (or perhaps misfortune) of seeing “Magical Mystery Tour”, the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band performs there. Neil Innes was also involved with Monty Python. If you caught “Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl,” Neil Innes was the fellow doing the “Urban Spaceman” bit. You can learn more about the Rutles here.

OK, now that we've established who the Rutles were—this was not a show featuring the original Rutles. It was a Beatles cover band called the Fab Four playing the Rutles. My brother-in-law put it best: This is a band who makes its living imitating a famous band, who are imitating a famous band, who were famous for imitating a famous band. Got all of that?

Blender Theater on 23rd St. is a pretty nice venue. I scanned the crowd, and if parents hadn't brought their kids to this, I would probably be one of the youngest people there. Everyone there had to be at least 50, except their kids. OK, maybe not everyone—I at least had a few contemporaries. One guy came in looking a bit mod-ish; if Roger Daltrey and Pete Townsend had a love child in their mod days, I think this guy would have been it. I also saw a guy who looked remarkably like Brian Connolly from the Sweet. Of course, it was not Brian Connolly, as Brian Connolly is dead. I dug the zebra-striped pants, though.

The show was pretty good. It was definitely a “tribute”--clips from the Rutles movies played in the background, and the band members acted out scenes from the Rutles history on the stage. They also played the Rutles songs at particular junctures in the film. They had 2 girls appearing with them, who seemed rather unnecessary (though they did play the “wives” of Dirk and Nasty at the end). Most of the acting was pretty poor, and most of the jokes made me groan (though Nasty got a good Paul McCartney-esque zinger in at the end; when the band is breaking up, he tells Dirk, “Why don't you go marry an English hooker? It'll only cost you 40 million.”)

Overall, they did a good job with the songs, and the film clips are always hilarious. I had “Goose Step Mama” stuck in my head for at least the next 24 hours. Some folks sitting near me expressed their disappointment that none of the original Rutles showed up—I think I have to agree with that.

Here is the set list, if my memory serves me well:

Back in 64
Number One
Goose Step Mama
Blue Suede Schubert
Hold My Hand
Between Us
With a Girl Like You
Living in Hope
Ouch
It's Looking Good
Doubleback Alley
Love Life
Good Times Roll
Major Happy's Up And Coming Once Upon A Good Time Band
Nevertheless
Don't Know Why
Piggy in the Middle
Let's Be Natural
Another Day (part)
Cheese and Onions
Get up and Go
Get Back (by that other group...)

Time

So, I found out today that my Mom has cancer.
To be rational, it may not be as big a deal as it sounds. It seems to be very localized, it’s breast cancer which has a high cure rate when caught early, and Mom is way post-menopause, so there’s no hormones feeding this thing. It may be no worse than having a suspicious mole removed. So, I’m trying not to get too concerned yet.

Nonetheless, it does bring up a lot of thoughts. Naturally I would miss my Mom if she died; of course, my parents aren’t getting any younger, and everyone dies some day. But there’s so much more that would go with her passing—the entire family has this subtle dependency on her which just isn’t good. I’m not particularly dependent on her, not compared to others, but she does do things for me (paying for certain home repairs, etc.) that I probably wouldn’t be able to do otherwise. I’m not sure how my Dad would fare on his own. I have a disabled aunt, my mother’s sister, whose finances and legal issues would become my problem if my Mom passed away. I don’t even like dealing with my own financial issues. I happen to live in the same state as my parents, which creates this sense of obligation. I’m feeling the jaws of limitation, and I’ve never liked that—it’s why I’m not married and don’t have kids. No one would require me to do anything for my family here, but basically I would be a sh*t if I didn’t. That’s not a life change I want to contemplate.

There are also some out-of-state family that would be severely affected if something happened to her. As a rule, I do not get tangled up in the problems of thinking adults—it doesn’t help the person, not when they’re long-standing problems (as opposed to emergencies). Unfortunately, my Mom likes to get tangled up in her children’s issues. And if something were to happen to her, it would create some ugly situations. My sister and I do not want to be the ones to untangle these messes. But it would probably fall to us, being the most independent of the bunch.

Now, all of this is a bit hasty. The likelihood is that none of this will come to pass any time in the near future. But it reminds me that it’s possible. Time marches on.

I think I need to get out my copy of “Dark Side of the Moon.”

The Onion: DOT creates new reckless driving lane

DOT Creates New Lane For Reckless Drivers

Everything I don't understand... (The Onion)

Wow, this soooooooo reminds of of someone I know...OK, probably many someones, but one in particular comes to mind...

You Know What's Stupid? Everything I Don't Understand

Snow day randomness (2008 version)

So, it is another snow day. I shouldn't say “another”--we've had very little snow this year overall. Mostly freezing rain and crap like that. I was pleased that the library I work for decided to close last night rather than making staff wait til the morning to find out. Even better—my parents were supposed to come over tomorrow, and canceled. Don't get me wrong—I love my parents, but they're helping me paint, and I'm not in the mood to paint, really. So, I get a free weekend, more or less.

I always feel obliged to be productive during my down time—if I'm in lazy mode, I feel guilty. That's a bad habit. So blogging allows me to feel like I'm doing something useful without really doing anything all that useful.

Here has been my stream-of-activity-and-consciousness for today:

Woke up late
Fed indoor cats
Fed basement cats
Shoveled snow
Showered
Listened to James Blackshaw's “The Cloud of Unknowing.” Only like 1 song, really
Cleaned bathroom
Checked Facebook about 3,000 times
Checked MySpace about 3 times
Checked e-mail about 5 times
Made home fries
Made some Irish coffee (yes, I did wait til afternoon)
Shoveled more snow
Investigated the ATLA conference (will be in Ottowa in June of this year)
Pondered the fact that religious institutions are not really interested in having their parishioners “know God”. They want to control access to God, and make you fearful enough to obey. That backfires a lot.


Yes, this last thing seems rather incongruous with the rest. I assure you that this is how my mind works.
I have thought about this on and off all day for no good reason. Since it's on my mind, I'll tell you about it.

When I was finishing my Master's degree in Religion, I had to do a thesis. My thesis was a horror story—I spent 9 months writing it. I consulted with my advisor, who told me that it “looked great, and to keep going.” 4 days before the thesis deadline in April 1999, my advisor calls me from Harvard to tell me that she's read my thesis, and “wants me to start all over again.” “Urge to kill” is not a statement that begins to describe how I felt at that moment—9 months of work for nothing, and facing the prospect of not graduating. My advisor, who either has inflated confidence in me or is functioning on another planet, is sure that I can rewrite my entire thesis in a week. To make a long story short—the graduate office gave me another 5 weeks to rewrite the whole thing, which is now a personal account of growing up and getting involved in occult religions. When I read my thesis now, I am aggravated that this is the piece of writing that represents me. Sure, I've been told it's good. Kelly Bulkeley, the scholar who writes about dreams, thought it was excellent and that I should do something more with it. But I can't. I'm so traumatized by the circumstances under which it was written, that I can't look at it anymore. And being a somewhat private person, I don't like all that personal info about my childhood and teen years being out there in book form.

What brings all this up—I am reminded of the killer question asked during my oral thesis defense. My secondary advisor asked the question, “As Christian ministers, how do we keep people from becoming like you?”

The question was appalling on a number of levels. I do not think I reacted well to it. It implied that there was something inherently wrong with me, and that as ministers they should try to stop people from being like me. A more appropriate question would have been, “Why are people leaving Christian churches in droves, and why are so many drawn to occultism?” That is a fair question.

I am working on a book that explores this very question. In general, though, it has a lot to do with what Alan Watts said about the message sent to children when they come into this world. To paraphrase what he said—rather than saying “welcome to the world,” we say, “you're on probation.”

And it is true. Organized religion does more to make us afraid of the punishments of Hell or its equivalent. God is fearsome, and is watching our every move. God also has nothing to do with us—we are small and insignificant. At the same time, we are told, “God is merciful”--translated to mean that even though we are sinful pieces of sh*t, God is still magnanimous enough to forgive us, if we recognize what wretched creatures we are, and swear not to commit the same sin again.

The problem with this approach? Most folks believe that they are basically good, and trying to live a good life. If they believe that they can never attain that level of perfection and are doomed, then they will inevitably give up, or look for an alternative. I would be inclined to rebel against a God who is so harsh with me. It is no wonder that female deities and the Virgin Mary are so popular---the nurturing, always-forgiving image of the Mother is preferable to this temperamental male presence that could strike you down at any moment.

There is some truth in the rhetoric—it is better to be humble, to recognize that there is a system greater than you. However, that means trusting in God's love, and trusting that no matter what, you will land on your feet in the end. Most people have doubts about that. So, the seekers interested in knowledge will try to find out for themselves. They will either become atheists, recognizing the absurdity of the idea of an external Big Brother, or they will become occultists, seeking to find God on their own.

Yes, that is in fact what occultism is about. The idea that it is about “devil worship” is a misconception, though not entirely without reason. After all, Satanists are rebels against traditional religious authority, and they make no bones about that. But most serious occultists realize that Satanism is a dead end, and look to other hermetic practices, or to Eastern religions. The point is that occultists are very religious people looking for a connection with the Divine—without the Church or any other mainstream religious institution mediating that process. Is that dangerous? It can be, but if the person can get some good guidance, get a good teacher, they will be fine. Of course, good teachers are hard to come by in any religious milieu. Occultists often think it is worth the risk stepping outside of tradition to die trying to gain that Divine Union on their own.

Which leads us back to the Gnostic archons (see my previous post, “Library 2.0 boredom and Gnostic rantings”). What do you think?

The Onion: Cats, paper bags, and mid-East conflict

The Onion, being awesome as usual...

Kitchen-Floor Conflict Intensifies As Rival House Cats Claim Same Empty Bag

More religious-themed LOLcats and Kitty Pidgin

The Bible verses are unbelievable. Click on the pictures to make them bigger.





Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

Library 2.0 boredom, and Gnostic ramblings

I have to admit, I’m bored.

I spend my days working as a librarian. I mostly deal with cataloging, metadata, digital projects, and technology implementation. At least that’s what I do in theory. Anyone who has worked in this field can tell you that librarians hate to implement anything new. In the university milieu, that also translates to the IT department. Maybe I shouldn’t speak for all universities here, but certainly our IT department is what you might deem “over-cautious” about trying new things. The consequence of this is that I spend less time helping with technology implementation than you might think. I suppose there is a bonus to this. The last time I was involved with a full-scale implementation was in 2005, when I moved 37 libraries that were technically a consortium to a new library system that functioned in such a way that it assumed—get ready for this—that they were a consortium. They were appalled by the thought that they should do anything as a unit, so it made for some interesting times for me during the implementation process. There were days I wanted to fling either myself or some key person on one of my committees out of the nearest window. So, I should not complain about working in an environment that really makes very few technological demands of me on a day to day basis.

It’s not really work that bugs me, it’s my field. Librarians are so caught up in this whole “Web 2.0” thing, and in the “open source software” thing. Both are useful in their appropriate contexts. But I’m frankly bored sh**less with both of them. It’s like buying an appliance. I may find the appliance useful; heck, I might use it every day and recommend it to my friends. But I really don’t want to talk about it ad nauseam. People talk about this stuff like it’s great sex or a wild adventure. But it’s just another tool or set of tools. Big whoop.

The problem is that many folks leading institutions don’t know a whole lot about these things, but they’re obviously “hot” topics, so they view as go-getters anyone who has half a clue about any of it. The entire Computers in Libraries conference in Washington this year is dedicated to “social networking” and “open source”. Frankly, if you don’t have a clue about it by now you never will, so quit talking and either do something, or go away. And once you do something—great, beautiful, wonderful. I don’t want to talk about it or hear about it endlessly unless I’ve hired you to cure my insomnia. (I don’t have insomnia, so that’s not likely). But librarians do more talking than actual acting, and it’s likely that they will continue talking long after I’ve boycotted every library technology conference out there.

There are some projects that need to be talked about. Certainly any large-scale migrations need to be planned and discussed. However, having survived one large-scale migration, I think I would rather get some popcorn and watch the political infighting rather than participate in it. Willingly steering a large system migration is like throwing yourself into a tank full of sharks—you might come out alive, but you’ll probably be missing a limb or two. Even if all of your limbs are intact, your sanity probably won’t be. As I get older, I find I have less patience for the politics that go on in large groups. Watching the politics isn’t much fun anymore, either—I think would rather sit through another iteration of Kenneth Anger’s “Lucifer Rising.” At least that movie makes some sense.

Speaking of both Lucifer Rising and interesting conversation—I went out with two very good friends this weekend who have a great interest in/knowledge of, shall we say, “hermetical” things. We had an interesting discussion about Gnosticism. A statement was made that has given me a lot of food for thought—“Archons cannot be defeated, they can only be tricked.” Archons are servants of the Demiurge, that Being that functions as a Creator God, but jealously guards the secret to attaining actual unity with the Divine (which is beyond the Creator God in the Gnostic view). Anyone who moves towards the secret will be thwarted, and even if he or she gains some kind of enlightenment, the people around him/her are not likely to be similarly enlightened. As a result, society attempts to drag you away from that union. You can only play the game by speaking the same social language as everyone else. If you are too radical, you will be dismissed as a freak, a heretic, or a “devil worshipper”, and there will be attempts to discredit you. If you are too credible to be dismissed, you’ll be minimized as somehow being cute or humorous. Those attempts are usually successful enough to prevent any massive social change from occurring. And so we plod onwards, as clueless and self-limited as ever.

We also talked about the works of Philip K. Dick. Many of Dick’s novels and stories center on the theme of identity—we can’t really say for sure who we are. Phil Dick really writes about this in a mind-blowing way. The concept behind “Scanner Darkly” is probably enough said on that point, though it is only one example.

Dick personally believed that the Roman Empire never ended, and that he was living a parallel life; one life was as writer Philip K. Dick, the other as a persecuted Christian named Thomas around the time of the Acts of the Apostles. He believed both lives were happening concurrently. The ideas are all interesting; we don’t know enough about ourselves, about time, or about existence, to know if Dick was crazy, or if he was right. It makes me wish I had a mind for Physics, among other things. On the plus side—my discussions with my friends have allowed me to tie together errant strands of the fiction I’ve been working on, and a very nice break from talking about library stuff. Thanks guys!

Theological Implications of Ceiling Cat

Quiet Spaces

When I am not out or cleaning house on the weekends, I have fairly simple recreational tastes—I like to read. I like a good book, a quiet space, a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, and a comfortable place to sit and read for a few hours—even a couple of hours.

Sounds pretty simple and straightforward, yes? Regrettably, it is not so simple.

This weekend was one of those weekends when I just wanted to collapse and read. The most obvious place might be at home—after all, I have a comfy chair (hehe), a bottle of wine in the fridge, or coffee to be made. I don't live in a particularly loud neighborhood. However, my parents are working on my house on Saturdays, fixing problems with my bathroom ceiling. Mind you, I'm grateful to them for doing it, as it saves me having to hire expensive workers. But the sound of my father swearing and banging around doesn't exactly make for a quiet atmosphere, plus there's the obligation to be social. Even if they weren't there, I would most likely be distracted by "other things I could be doing", or by one of my two narcissistic indoor felines.

So the house was not going to work. I thought about other spaces. There are a few cafes that I like to spend time in, but these are not quiet places. I did not necessarily want a meal, so going to a restaurant was out. There are coffee shops all around the County, but they are usually filled with teenagers. As a rule, teenagers are not a quiet bunch, and the atmosphere is usually replete with loud music. Going to a pub has the same problem—there are a lot of people talking, and the music is loud and can be distracting.

When you think “quiet” you might think “library”. Seems obvious. But libraries are not necessarily quiet spaces. There is much debate about the nature of library space—should it be a place of quiet or a place of instruction (which means “not quiet”)? Frequently, it is the latter. There are quiet study spaces in many libraries. But one cannot curl up with a cup of coffee in these spaces—and they do not provide accommodations that I would deem “cozy”. For the most part, libraries are food-and-drink free places; if they do allow it, it is in a designated cafe area. And that gets crowded. Inevitably when I have visited these library cafes in public libraries, there are always parents with children hanging out there. I have nothing against children visiting the library, but kids as a rule don't tend to be very quiet. If it was summertime, I could find a nice space outside, but not when it's 29 degrees out.

So, I was at a loss to find the perfect space to curl up in. You might think I'm being fussy about the “quiet” requirement, but I tend to read fairly heavy things. Right now I am reading Umberto Eco's “The Name of the Rose”. I took Latin for 7 years, but it still takes me some concentration to read the Latin sentences and phrases that pepper this book. There's also a lot to follow. So it's not something I can meaningfully read when I'm distracted.

I cannot believe it is so difficult to find a quiet reading space that allows allows me the simple creature comfort of a beverage. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them.