Three Days

Simeon
Before the Infinite could manifest Itself in the finite, it was necessary that man should first have reached that point along his road to Knowledge where, just as it rises from the swamps of Confusion onto the sunny slopes of Objectivity, it forks in opposite directions towards the One and the Many; where, therefore, in order to proceed at all, he must decide which is Real and which only Appearance, yet at the same time cannot escape the knowledge that his choice is arbitrary and subjective.

Chorus
Promising to meet, we parted forever.

W. H. Auden, "The Meditation of Simeon"

Four Days

The Meditation of Simeon

Simeon
As long as the apple had not been entirely digested, as long as there remained the least understanding between Adam and the stars, rivers and horses with whom he had once known complete intimacy, as long as Eve could share in any way with the moods of the rose or the ambitions of the swallow, there was still a hope that the effects of the poison would wear off, that the exile from Paradise was only a bad dream, that the Fall had not occurred in fact.



Chorus
When we awoke, it was day; we went on weeping.

Simeon
As long as there were any roads to amnesia and anaesthesia still to be explored, any rare wine or curiosity of cuisine as yet untested, any erotic variation as yet unimagined or unrealized, any method of torture as yet undevised, any style of conspicuous wasted as yet unindulged, any eccentricity of mania or disease as yet unrepresented, there was still a hope that man has not been poisoned but transformed, that Paradise was not an eternal state from which he had been forever expelled, but a childish state which he had permanently outgrown, that the Fall had occurred by necessity.

Chorus
We danced in the dark, but were not deceived.

-- W. H. Auden, from For The Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio

Five Days

Wise Men
Not In but With our time Love's energy
Exhibits Love's immediate operation;
The choice to love is open till we die.

Shepherds
O Living Love, by your birth we are able
Not only, like the ox and ass of the stable,
  To love with our live wills, but love,
  Knowing we love.

Tutti
O Living Love replacing phantasy,
O Joy of life revealed in Love's creation;
Our mood of longing turns to indication:
Space is the Whom our loves are needed by,
Time is our choice of How to love and Why.

--W. H. Auden

Six Days

The Star of the Nativity
Descend into the fosse of Tribulation,
Take the cold hand of Terror for a guide;
Below you in its swirling desolation
Hear tortured Horror roaring for a bride:
O do not falter at the last request
But, as the huge deformed head rears to kill,
Answer its craving with a clear I Will;
Then wake, a child in the rose-garden, pressed
Happy and sobbing to your lover's breast.

--W. H. Auden

Seven Days

The Second Wise Man
My faith that in Time's constant
   Flow lay real assurance
Broke down on this analysis--
  At any given instant
All solids dissolve, no wheels revolve,
  And facts have no endurance--
And who knows if it is by design or pure inadvertence
That the Present destroys its inherited self-importance?
  With envy, terror, rage, regret,
We anticipate or remember but never are.
  To discover how to be living now
  Is the reason I follow this star.

--W. H. Auden, from "The Summons"

Week-before-Christmas update

Scenes from our house:

1.  Little Red drank a sip of Pine-Sol last night.  Said it tasted bad, and he needed some water.  The Runner called poison control; The Kindergartner cried because he was scared for his little brother.  Little Red just sipped water and looked nonplussed at all the excitement.

2.  We're in a Super Mario Brothers phase right now; The Kindergartner was admonishing me the other night for my poor performance on the game (I really am bad at it).

3.  The Vulcan Baby has a tooth on the bottom poking through--it's a little rough spot, right on the lower front.  Alas, he also has an upper canine making a huge bump . . . he may be snaggletoothed in an even funnier way than Little Red was.

4.  I have finished all the work from this term--at least formally speaking.  Now I just have to deal with all the other stuff that I've let slide.

5.  The Christmas Tree looks pitiful this year, y'all.  It's going to look reeeaaaallly rough come Christmas day, I have a feeling.

6.  We had the place reeaaallly clean . . . on Tuesday.

7.  We're leaning toward letting Sock the Garage Kitty fend more or less for himself for the few days we're visiting grandparentals.  I mean, what's the point of an outdoor cat if he can't be trusted to look after himself for a few days?

8.  No presents under the tree.  Do not trust cats.  Do not trust Vulcan Baby.  Do not trust Little Red.

Eight Days

Semi-Chorus:
Joseph, Mary, pray for those
Misled by moonlight and the rose,
For all in our perplexity.
Lovers who hear a distant bell
That tolls from somewhere in their head
Across the valley of their dream--
'All those who love excessively
Foot or thigh or arm or face
Pursue a louche and fatuous fire
And stumble into Hell'--
Yet what can such foreboding seem
But intellectual talk
So long as bodies walk
An earth where Time and Space
Turn Heaven to a finite bed
and Love into desire?
Pray for us, enchanted with
The green Bohemia of that myth
Where knowledge of the flesh can take
The guilt of being born away,
Simultaneous passions make
One eternal chastity:
Pray for us romantics, pray.

--W. H. Auden, from "The Temptation of St. Joseph"

Nine Days

Joseph
Where are you, Father, where?
Caught in the jealous trap
Of an empty house I hear
As I sit alone in the dark
Everything, everything,
The drip of the bathroom tap,
The creak of the sofa spring,
The wind in the air-shaft, all
Making the same remark
Stupidly, stupidly,
Over and over again.
Father, what have I done?
Answer me, Father, how
can I answer the tactless wall
Or the pompous furniture now?
Answer them . . .

Gabriel
No, you must.

Joseph
How then am I to know,
Father, that you are just?
Give me one reason.

Gabriel
No.

Joseph
All I ask is one
Important and elegant proof
That what my Love had done
Was really at your will
And that your will is Love.


Gabriel
No, you must believe;
Be silent, and sit still.

--W. H. Auden, from "The Temptation of St. Joseph"

Ten Days

Alone, alone, about a dreadful wood
Of conscious evil runs a lost mankind,
Dreading to find its Father lest it find
The Goodness it has dreaded is not good:
Alone, alone, about our dreadful wood.

Where is that Law for which we broke our own,
Where now that Justice for which Flesh resigned
Her hereditary right to passion, Mind
His will to absolute power?  Gone.  Gone.
Where is that Law for which we broke our own?

The Pilgrim Way has led to the Abyss.
Was it to meet such grinning evidence
We left our richly odoured ignorance?
Was the triumphant answer to be this?
The Pilgrim Way has led to the Abyss.

We who must die demand a miracle.
How could the Eternal do a temporal act,
The Infinite become a finite fact?
Nothing can save us that is possible:
We who must die demand a miracle.

--W. H. Auden, Part III of For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio

Adventures with Students, vol. 20

Or not, as the case may be...

I'm presently sitting in my office; I'm about to go upstairs and meet my combined composition classes for a mass "exam," which accomplishes two important things:  first, they're turning in their portfolios, second, I'm complying with the law that says we have to "meet" for an "exam."

You'd think that the students would be grateful that there's no test.  Most are.  But there's that one guy, the one who always seems to say the strangest thing possible:

Yeah, I heard your exam is totally lame.
Um, what?
It's like, you don't really do anything.
That's right.  As I've explained, there is no exam in this class.  We're just meeting to turn in portfolios.
Well, I know.  I was just saying that it was a lame excuse for an exam...

(by this point the other students are looking at him like he's radioactive.  I talk over him and move on).

I should have written a test especially for him.

In which Piers hears a challenging word

In a conversation with The Runner yesterday (while sitting with the creeps in the church nursery), as we were exploring the reason why applying for tenure seems so bittersweet to me:


You don't get to study much any more.  You aren't really intellectually challenged in the same way you used to be.  

That's worth thinking about.  Not sure what to do about it, though.

Adventures in parenting, vol. 16

Tree-trimming.  The boys were thrilled to get to decorate the tree this year.  You'll note from the picture at left just how well they did their job. 

The Runner did a bit of rearranging, as you might imagine.

I understand why people like pre-lit trees, though I understand that if one of the pre-lit strands goes out, you're really out of luck.

We went ahead and decided beforehand that perhaps we wouldn't really try to do any full-bore decorating this year.  A wise move, I think.

In which Piers hears a manifesto

let him not be accused of having low self-esteem

During the faculty senate meeting yesterday (less interesting than it sounds, alas), a colleague who had been nominated for VP and withdrawn his name from consideration took the occasion of the opening for nominations "from the floor" to stand up and give a speech, yea, even a manifesto outlining the reasons he should be elected VP (which is the step previous to becoming faculty senate president).  It was quite a performance, delivered passionately--but without flair, outlining convincing policy positions--for a college freshman, showing a keen eye for the pertinent issues surrounding state-supported higher education--for a person who might know what they read in teh blogs and the Jackson Sun.  Seriously, it was well-meant but showed him to be somewhat of a dullard.  At least in my estimation.  But then, I'm not interested in an activist faculty senate president who speaks in all seriousness about we faculty members "using our collective authority and power to make positive changes to our society."  Seriously, dude, after complaining about the length of the previous senate meeting, and then dropping out of the race just to use this opportunity to publicly climb back in it?

weaksauce.

plus, "society??"  really??

"In the whole wild world there's no magic place..."

Yesterday I learned about one of my former students who had left school.  I had thought it was a financial issue.  Turns out he dropped out because he'd been caught with a significant stash of marijuana.  With intent to sell, apparently.  I hope his readmission hearing went well.  

And then, there was a conversation about some unsavory details regarding the conduct of our current Vice Chancellor for Student Affairs.  I've heard a lot of things hinted at, but this goes well beyond the ineptitude that I've heard hinted at and seen glimpses of. 

And here I am worried that my course evaluations won't be up to snuff!  Just the other night I had a dream in which I was "transferred" to UTC because I wasn't going to get tenure here.

"...so you might as well rise, put on your bravest face."  (Peart)

Memphis (half) Marathon Weekend

1.  The Runner is pleased with her time for the half marathon:  just over two hours!  She came away from the run feeling as happy as could be (as the picture above indicates).

2.  We learned that next year we'll opt for accommodations closer to the race site.

3.  And what is the deal with hotels that make you pay $10.00 per day for internet access, and offer a $13.00 breakfast buffet?  They didn't even have complimentary coffee in the lobby, for pete's sake.  I know it's a lot to ask, but when your garden-variety Hampton Inn offers free wifi, free breakfast, indoor pool, etc., it makes the hotel look awfully lame.  Attention, Hilton:  this is the 21st century.

4.  The boys did like the floor-to-ceiling window looking out over the "moat" surrounding the hotel.  The Kindergartner's reaction was:  OH. MY. GOOD. NESS.  THE HOTEL IS ON A SWIMMING POOL.

5.  Handling three little boys in a hotel room is a job not for the faint of heart.

6.  I'm sure there's a lot more to see in Memphis than traffic . . . maybe next time.

Adventures with Students, vol. 19

"Tis a bawdy planet; 'twill strike where 'tis predominant."

This one isn't funny.

Student comes in today for a routine conference, and in short order I learn that she is pregnant due to a sexual assault she experienced over the summer; that she has been harassed by fellow students and even by instructors; that she has considered leaving this institution and transferring somewhere else to get yet another fresh start.

I'll admit that these days it's not hard to get me to hate the world, but this one really pierced my heart. Life isn't fair even to the best of us, but give me (more properly, her) a break.

To her credit, and my wonder, she is handling it quite well.

xkcd