Four recommendations

July 19, 2008 by masksoferis

I continue holidaying, and thus write only now and then. Here’re four things to occupy yourself with.

  1. Music. Kristoph Klover, Fire in the Sky. A piece of filk or sf/f folk music. Prometheus they say, brought gods’ fire down to men, and we’ve got it tamed and trained since our history began, and soon we’re returning the fire to the skies with Apollo flights. The only better filk performance that I, with my admittedly amateur knowledge of the subject, know of, is Tom Smith singing Hope Eyrie, also a song of Apollo, of all the things courage can do.
  2. Book. The New Shadow, or ten pages of an sequel for the Lord of the Rings, in the Peoples of Middle-Earth, the final part of the unfinished and/or abandoned writings of J.R.R. Tolkien. Just ten pages, but… ah, Tolkien himself said that tale would have been just a thriller in the Fourth Age, but what a thriller it would have been! A sinister name, philosophical debate, rumors of a Satanic sect, orc-deeds and deviltry in Gondor!
  3. Music. Pandora’s Box (the band), Original Sin (the album, 1989), Good Girls Go to Heaven (a track on it). Jim Steinman’s girl group with their only disc, and one of its best tracks. And Youtube has it! The same is better known as sung by Meat Loaf — but it’s much better, and that’s a lot, when sung by women. Besides, says the freethinker in me, it’s hard to not hum to good girls go to heaven, but the bad girls go everywhere!
  4. Book. Melinda Snodgrass, The Edge of Reason. An atheistic book of fantasy! Jesus Christ-Allah-Yahweh as a foul-mouthed bum! Lucifer-Prometheus as a hero! Better background philosophy than any novel I’ve ever read! A flap quote comparing it to Illuminatus! and the Golden Compass! Impossible to resist! Exceedingly exclamation-mark-worthy! Good fun! Still reading it, but I dare to recommend it already.

CERN is the holiest place on Earth

July 19, 2008 by masksoferis

CERN, the giant particle physics laboratory near Geneva, is the holiest place on Earth.

I realize this might seem like a strange statement, especially coming from an atheist like it does. Nonetheless that is my opinion. Let me explain.

What does ‘holy’ mean? One could play a delightful little game of semantics with it, probably ending with an ironclad proof that by the rules of semantics, slips and dot-bothering most cheese crackers are holy. But that is not my meaning. ‘Holy’ means important, but not just important like a functioning engine is important to a flying plane. ‘Holy’, if one thinks how people use the word, means something that has value beyond its physical parts; not necessarily any ill-defined (and in my opinion nonexistent) spirit-world quality, but something symbolic and powerful, some quality that tells something of us, and some quality that makes us remember, and by remembering, makes us respect and adore.

To many Americans, I suppose, the Declaration of Independence is holy, not in any way associated with gods and divine ectoplasmic matters, but as a tangible symbol of a will to try building a good world, or at least a nation way better than the one that existed then.

Likewise, the site of some special death or act of daring might warrant calling a spot holy: everyone can no doubt summon up a few of these. The place where a tyrant died, the place where innocence was lost, the place where a discovery was made.

And in this colloquial sense CERN is, indeed, the holiest place on Earth: the greatest and (maybe) most expensive scientific experiment yet done, a prying into the most fundamental forces of all existence, and performed not because it would make someone rich, or be a propaganda feat for some nation, or even yield a bomb of humongous magnitude, but because of simple and sweet human curiosity: the want to know how things work, how they are, the all-probing attempt to press the rough cloth of inquiry ever closer to the beautiful folds of the invisible glass statue that reality is.

That is why I think CERN is the holiest place on Earth. Okay?

(Oh, and 19 days until the Large Hadron Collider activation.)

A recommendation: The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes

July 12, 2008 by masksoferis

The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes, stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, notes and annotations by Leslie S. Klinger

A boxed set of two volumes, each around 700 pages, that contain the 56 Sherlock Holmes short stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. A third separate volume, which I haven’t got yet, has the four novel-length pieces (A Study in Scarlet, the Sign of Four, Valley of Fear, Hound of the Baskervilles).

Plusses:

  • Elegant, sturdy hardback books; beautiful, slightly period typesetting; nice rich-feeling paper
  • Sidney Paget’s original, beautiful illustrations, and some very pretty period photographs and drawings, and (!) newspaper advertisements of the products mentioned in the stories, like one for macassar hair oil.
  • Plenty (as in “hundreds and hundreds”) of annotations. I’d guess an average of one or two for every page: the pages are set in two equal colums, the inner columns of each spread being used by the text in black, and the outer columns by the annotations in mild red. Somehow I get the frightful feeling the the total length of the annotations is quite close to the total length of the stories themselves.
  • Some annotations are Sherlockian speculation and connection-finding, drawn from the apparently very varied and extensive thinking people of my type have done when having their periods of too much free time; the ideas expressed range from very clever to just amusing, each demonstrating the speculator’s special knowledge — say botany, railways, laws of Georgia, or the like. They’re good reading, unless you’re one of those neurotic types who can’t understand taking a sub-world like Middle-Earth or the overlay on ours in Holmes seriously.
  • Some annotations are cultural notes without which reading the stories would be, at least for me, a bit awkward: say when the portraits of two fellows are mentioned, there are a few hundred elucidating words annotating Henry Ward Beecher, and double that for a mention of Charles George Gordon, plus a reproduction of an apparently famous painting called General Gordon’s Last Stand. And the annotations for slang words and the various horse-drawn thingies — well, not indispensable, but certainly valuable. I’d say the annotations easily double the entertainment value of the volumes.
  • In addition to the Sherlockian annotations and cultural notes, notes on the original times and places of publication, plus a few essays on subjects too lengthy for annotation: say the use of guns by the Holmes-Watson duo, or the rather puzzling question of whether a goose has an anatomical feature called a crop or not.

Gripes:

  • Some illustrations (from the printings of the stories in American papers) are distractingly hideous. Or then the contrast to Paget’s pretty pictures is just too much for me.
  • A tad heavy for a lad of two meters like me; might be a tad heavier for you littler folks. Then again, a pleasant way of exercising one’s abs is reading these lying down. And you’ll never fall asleep, for you dare not, if you spend your evenings reading these holding the thing high on raised arms above your head!
  • A bit pricey, but more than worth the price. I’d guess you won’t ever need to buy another edition of Holmes again.

Overall:

Plus-plus-plus. Buy it and enjoy it.

(An atheist endnote: Funny that one side of Conan Doyle was being a nutter that believed in fairies and spiritualist nonsense; now that I read the stories I just can’t avoid the feeling that Sherlock Holmes if anyone was a science-trusting atheist, a fellow I’m glad to idolize more than a little bit.)

Quote for today 9

July 11, 2008 by masksoferis

Ever noticed how people who believe in creationism look really unevolved? The eyebrow ridges, the big furry hands and feet… (arrogant voice) “I believe God created me in one day!” Looks like he rushed it.

— Bill Hicks, the comedian

Heh, heh, heh. Hicks and Carlin are gone, but their immortal words remain.

Laptops

July 7, 2008 by masksoferis

Why no laptop has a keyboard one could actually write with?

Screaming unintelligible curses I retreat back into darkness, trying to move my holiday activities into a form that would give me access to a real, big, clunky keyboard I’m used to.

Writing these sentences took thrice as long as it usually would.

If you need entertainment, look at angels talking in Heaven, or clues on what academic advisors of Ph.D. students are like.

Still living!

July 5, 2008 by masksoferis

And with a gasp I resurface, after a momentary absence, to write again.

Mostly because this means I also return to read a few blogs, and with Pharyngula one simply has to return often, or the backlog (back-blog?) will get monstrously immense. After neglecting reading it for nearly a week I had to skip the comments entirely. A shame, but the pretty people there won’t be (I hope) going anywhere away anytime soon. People that are right tend to stick around.

So: A recommendation. Eiger Dreams by Jon Krakauer is a very entertaining collection of real-life stories about mountaineering, ice climbing and things like that. Not quite as gripping as Into Thin Air, but it gave me a couple of pretty bad cases of vertigo.

It’s a good book when you find yourself silently screaming “Have care, you fool!”

Well, or a bad reader. Haw-haw.

Also — and this will be quite futile a recommendation to you all uitlanders — the action novel 6/12 by Ilkka Remes is very, very snappy and entertaining. I started the 400+ page thing 23 hours ago now, and I’m going to finish it before 24 are full.

Remes is something like a Finnish Tom Clancy, though I don’t know either writer well enough to say if this is the best possible comparison.

If you find the title evocative of something else — why, yes, it does feature a clutch of terrorists and an act of shocking proportions — for Finland, that is; and the sixth day of December is the Finnish independence day, a day when all of top government is in one place celebrating and boozing.

And then, bang-bang and scream-scream until a heroic cop comes.

And, yeah, it’s 6/12 and not 12/6 because we here in Europe write dates the right way. (Also: Go metric, Yanks. Your sensible scientific types have done so already.)

And now I’m going back to reading, farting and lounging: It’s summer, after all.

(I have some post-ideas floating around, and one actually written out with a pen and a piece of paper — oh, the tedium of pre-digital means! It’s not WordPress compatible! — but those will have to wait a day or two.)

A small mathematical joke

June 28, 2008 by masksoferis

You’ll need passing familiarity with maths to understand this one.

A mathematician, lecturing, starts to write on the blackboard some assumption about an analytical function: “Ass. f anal. but” — and then he stops to think: “Why am I thinking of these recreational things when I should be lecturing?”

Real quote, assumed thought.

* * *

Another thing: Posting might be a bit erratic for a few weeks, since I’m holiday-ing the best I can. This means reading a lot (too many choices to mention any: fact, fantasy, science fiction, and Jon Krakauer) — and maybe I’ll get lost doing some creepy short-story writing in Finnish.

If you want to know what I mean by creepy short stories, just go read Liverwurst: A Fairy Tale, one of mine I translated into English a while back.

A Guide to Finland: History 3 (Swedes)

June 25, 2008 by masksoferis

Another chapter of the Guide to Finland. It goes after Pagans (the first history chapter, being the pre-circa-1100 history of Finland), and Lalli (the second history chapter; a mythical tangent around year 1100), and concerns the period from c. 1100 to 1809, when Finland was a province of Sweden.

Enjoy!

* * *

The medieval history of Sweden (and Finland as a part of it) is long and complex, and since I mostly don’t know squat about it, I won’t discuss it beyond this short chapter.

Besides, it quite soon degenerates into royal feuds between Sweden, Denmark and whatever other neighbors exist, including generations of cross-border raiding and border post moving between Sweden and Russia, much to the bebotherment of Finnish peons, in whose lands this squabbling took place.

While there was a Swedish king in Stockholm, in Sweden, there was in Finland, opposite to that capital city, a castle and a city called Åbo in Swedish and Turku in Finnish. It’s the oldest city of Finland, and still one of the largest. Most of modern Finland was either under Swedish rule, or then unclaimed wasteland (natives don’t count), or, in the eastern reaches, claimed by the various pre-Russian and Russian princes.

Beyond Turku and a few similar coastal cities, there were villages and occasional castles and manors inland, but most of Finland was just forests and swamps, snows and darkness.

Ah well, most of Finland is still that, and there isn’t anything it could be that would be better.

In my old schoolbooks that Stockholm-ruled kingdom was called “Ruotsi-Suomi” or Sweden-Finland. I don’t know if Swedish schoolbooks call it Finland-Sweden; probably not. Finland was just a province, though a large one, and I think a province much like any other, except that the peons were a bit more drunken and disorderly.

Oh, and they had a crude, brutish language of their own, totally unrelated to the dulcet tones of Swedish.

(There was slight sarcasm in the previous sentence. Still, I won’t even mention that some think spoken Swedish sounds like a legion of cats yarking hair-balls of gigantic-enormous size. That would be an outright scurrilous hint.)

The few well-educated Finns learned Swedish because that was the language of education and business, the language of writing and of royal proclamations. There weren’t many of them, but in those times there weren’t many educated people anywhere.

So, Swedes evolved from crude Vikings into stolid late medievals, and after a 16th-century king called Gustav Vasa (or in Finnish, Kustaa Vaasa), Sweden evolved into a real world power.

Well, Europe-power. Let’s not exaggerate.

A kingdom, an empire even, that included Sweden and Finland and the Baltic states of today, and the site where St. Petersburg stands today (it hadn’t been founded by the Russian 17th-century reformer-king Peter the Great yet), and in due time Sweden even took some disunited German states under its wing, and even sent colonists into newly-found North America.

Those colonies didn’t stick. If you live in Delaware, you might be treading former Swedish ground. You might even have brave Swedish blood — or dour Finnish blood — in your veins. If you’re eminently sensible and calm, or prone to violent binges of drinking and manslaughter, well, then it surely is so.

Being a great power in the north of Europe (heck, all of Europe) meant fighting many bloody wars, and Finns were very good in fighting as long as someone told them who they were supposed to fight. After the Protestant Reformation swept over Sweden, Swedes and Finns fought in the Thirty Years’ War (1618-48 ) under their king Gustavus Adolphus, gleefully raping and pillaging Germany for the glorious Protestant cause.

In those wars Finnish light cavalry was known as hakkapeliitat (sing. hakkapeliitta), which probably comes from their war-cry of “Hakkaa päälle!”, which best translates as “Cut them down!”

I trust that the opposing forces understood their intent, if not their words. When a troop of frothing, sword-waving, screaming, pistol-shooting soldiers charges at you, heavy horses churning the ground and the riders yelling strange broken backwards-Latin curses, you can usually trust they mean to cut you down, or worse.

It’s a common view in Finland that these Finnish cavalrymen were widely feared and respected, instrumental in Sweden’s success in the wars the kingdom fought, and maybe even thought invulnerable by their Catholic opponents because of some dark Protestant witchcraft. Swedes apparently think the victories were because of their advanced military tactics, but since this is a Guide to Finland, we shan’t believe that.

Scary witchy Finnish kill-riders! Booga booga! Hakkaa päälle!

Sweden was a great power of varying success and extent, and Finland a part of it. All the various medieval and post-medieval shenanigans happened: mad kings, noblemen thrown out of windows, strife over Polish princesses and Catholic queens, the whole lot. Finland contributed a general here and there, a governor now and then, maybe a bishop or a professor, and quite a lot of dumb country boys willing to die for a few coins or some yellow-and-blue piece of cloth: the same as any province of Sweden. Then, with the ending of the 18th century, the Napoleonic Wars began, and in one of that bloody snarl of wars Russia battered Sweden.

Apparently Russia was allied with France at that time — the year 1807 — and thought that the best way of getting Sweden to their side was to batter it a bit. The war consisted mostly of the Swedish troops retreating, and the Russian ones advancing. All of Finland was overran, there was a coup in Stockholm, and then a hurried peace. Some Finns weren’t so disappointed by this, since this seemed like a chance for autonomy, and maybe even outright independence.

Finland was first occupied and then annexed by the Russians — since this is 1809, these are Imperial Russians, ruled by an Emperor, also called a Czar — and, quite curiously, Finland became a separate Grand Duchy, with the Czar as its Grand Duke. The old Swedish laws and customs were preserved in this strangely separate part of the great Russian empire.

And with that semi-independent Grand Duchy the next part of this brief history of Finland continues, later.

Oh, one thing more about the war. There are some monuments to it, the so-called Finnish War (Suomen sota), but it’s mostly remembered because of a famous epic poem or cycle of poems called The Tales of Ensign Stål (in Finnish, Vänrikki Stålin tarinat), penned by a Finn called Runeberg some fifty years later. It contains all the usual ingredients: heroes, dunderheads and the occasional combinations of the two, and plenty of death, sorrow and machismo. The curious part of it is that it was originally written in Swedish, which at the time of its writing still was the language of the civilized elite.

Well, just at that time, the halfpoint of the nineteenth century, things were about to change: Finns began to think that since they were no longer a part of Sweden, and not quite a part of Russia, maybe they could just as well be something else entirely: Finns?

But that’s something the next chapter will tell more about.

What will be in the second Hobbit movie?

June 24, 2008 by masksoferis

I am a Tolkien fan (maybe even a fanatic), and thus, having been quite well pleased (see endnote) by the Lord of the Rings movies, I am already salivating thinking about the Hobbit movies.

Well, except that that plural troubles me. Movies. The first will be the actual book called “The Hobbit”; the second will be a bridge between it and the Lord of the Rings. There isn’t an actual book to base that second film on, and that brings an ugly, distasteful word into my pessimistic little mind —

Filler.

If that word doesn’t strike terror into your heart, consider Expanded Universe, Inspired By, Spin-Off, and similar yark-inducing red flags.

Read the rest of this entry »

This day sucks

June 23, 2008 by masksoferis

Oh unspeakable four-letter expletive and a name for a woman’s private parts.

AP says George Carlin is dead.

I don’t know of anyone that ever was funnier and more insightful than Carlin. This is — and St. Carlin wouldn’t forgive me if I held my expletives back — a fucking immense loss to all friends of shocking honesty, masterful humor and unspeakable cruelty.

I’m too sad and shocked to write more now.