In Response to KFR's Tribute

Here's a crazy rant to purge the depths of the soul. (For the unfamiliar: this post may contain numerous, and possibly mentally damaging, D+D references as a continuation of my comments on KFR's blogsite - some references may seem unintelligible without casting the appropriate spells to unlock the arcane language) As to the inherent value of engaging in fantasy in order to temporarily escape the mind-numbing oppression of reality, I assert that the despotic tyranny of modern reality and social constraint is as life-draining and soul-stealing as the infernal gaze of an Arch-Lich. I must roll to successfully Turn this undead fiend by drawing on my virtuous nature and moral purity. Ooops, that didn't work too well as I seem to be falling into Lolth's Demonweb Pits. Back in the day when the original game expansion happened in the late 70's and early 80's, the game actually extended into a more diverse strata of social groups than one might think. As an 8th grader, I distinctly, and quite fondly, remember an alcohol enhanced game (wine coolers and Boone's farm of course, because that's all we could get) attracting a rogue band of wannabe valley girls of Charisma 15-17 who felt moved to check up on a minor shoulder injury I'd suffered in a football game the day before. Or more likely, as later experiences would teach me, they were employing their wiles to raid our hard-won horde of alcohol. In any case, it turned out well as they joined in the D+D game and everyone had a great old time engaging in juvenile innuendo. I actually had quite a few games go this way: atypical for standard D+D socialization, but back then my mischievous boyish charm, faux brooding intensity, and youthful visage played well until I was bludgeoned by the assault of my most recent decade of pain and torment. Life has hit me with a Ray of Enfeeblement and all of my attribute scores keep dropping from the slew of 18's I was originally born with toward those of an untenable character destined to die at level 1. The Arch-Lich that is the oppression of modern reality is gradually winning and I need to role a critical hit soon or face Entrapment. I miss those carefree times of junior high innocence when I still had passion and a spark in my eye. Now, honing bitterness and resentment into a Vorpal Blade, I stagger through the Minotaur's lair of the real world until Orcus emerges from the depths to drag me down to the infernal plane of perpetual shade. Thankfully, I still have enough obstinacy to refuse to yield to anything while I search for the means by which to rekindle my failing spirit. Hope remains, while the fellowship is true! I need a good get together with friends. Strength and Honor!!!

An Invite to an Imposing Colloquium

I was graced with an impromptu visit from my brother this weekend. We had some high-end Japanese cuisine (so good) and an extended talk for the first time in a while. He was down for an upper brass award function for the Air Force due to his accumulating commendations and his acceptance into the war college by 2010. He's already made his Major board and he will soon be one of the youngest most highly decorated Major's in the Air Force (he should be cleared to Colonel or higher by the time he's ready to retire after 20 years). He is very much what our military should be composed of and remains very much outside of the ideological box the political polarization and media stereotyping try to project. Apparently, all hell had broken loose among the generals at the function due to the B-2 fiasco and F-15 collision this week. Heads will apparently have to roll, as it should be.
On a different note, I received an invite to an imposing colloquium at the Getty Villa on March 14th hosted by this years Villa Professor Erich Gruen. The full day of presentations will be on the identity formation and the image of the barbarian in Roman society and literature. I'm looking forward to it, but the presenters will be of the highest quality and I've got to try to engage in the discussion at the highest level possible. Prof Gruen is one of the absolute top scholars in my field in the world. He chaired the majority of PhD's at Berkeley in Roman History over the past 40 years. I'm still waiting on the reading material to be sent to me to critique. This is my first real chance to 'make my bones' in the field. Hopefully, I won't come off as out of my depth and a complete dumbass. I usually don't stress on much, but this one will be a bit more significant than most. I was very fortunate to get one of these invites and I need to try to make the most of it. I've been up for more than 24 hours on a draft deadline for a big paper and I'm wired on energy drinks and coffee. I think I'll go workout and burn some of the energy off before the impending crash. Hopefully, my heart won't explode. Farewell!

Christian Propaganda Against the Vikings

I attended a lecture last night on Vikings employing a synthesis of raid and trade tactics given by a most prominent professor of all things Norse from the University of Iceland - Helgi Thorlakkson (I wish I had that last name to fit my personality). The Icelandic accent was hard to understand and he had to deliver his lecture in English very slowly, but the concept along with the historical use of the sagas and archaelogical record was very compelling. The Christian propaganda resulting from the raiding of the monasteries gave the Vikings a somewhat unfair reputation because of them being vilified as the heathen other by the corrupt and wealth hoarding Christian clergy they robbed. This type of robbery was common all over Europe and was not limited to the Vikings, they just struck more rapidly and disappeared on their ships with their newly acquired booty. It was politically and religiously acceptable to demonize them more than the nominally Christian warrior bands of marauders that were ravaging Europe as well. What was interesting was that the Vikings would often steal people and items in raids, call a truce for a week or so, and trade goods like walrus tusks they broguht with them and/or ransom back the hostages for other goods they could parley elsewhere. They would then sail with the newly acquired goods from the raid/trade to more remote markets to get highly specialized luxury items like Frankish glassware, pottery, beads, etc... . The economies they were raiding were actually in decline (verified by the archaeological record) before the rise of the Viking age. The Viking raiding and trading actually stimulated the economy in the areas they terrorized preventing these settlements from being starved out and abandoned due to the collapsing economies. Hence, although it is counterintuitive: pillage and plunder is beneficial for the larger trade economy as long as the settlements are not completely decimated, which the Vikings rarely did. The truces for trade were very common and one could function as a maruader and merchant during the same engagement within the same week. I should have lived in these conditions where one could use an axe as a negotiating tool, rather than being forced to use predatory and exploiting interest rates to get ahead in business. It is more honest. I attest Viking tactics more honorable than the past US forced trade policy employing gunboats in foreign ports or modern corporate greed in a globalized economy. American culture is boring and lame in it's self-righteous hypocrisy. Vikings are cool because they didn't veil the baseness of human nature, yet they weren't quite as simplistically brutal as Christian propaganda has perpetuated. I did use coercive threats to get compensation from Alaska Airlines this week due to the past weekend's flight debacle. They trembled in fear, but we'll see how much compensation I get by next week. That is all!

I Shake My Fist at Cruel Fate

I am presently stuck in the Seattle Airport on a disatrous trip. I was left on the tarmac for an hour and a half yesterday at LAX before we were sent back to the gate for a maintenance/paperwork issue. This caused me to be late into Seattle missing my connecting flight to Walla Walla on the only flight in to such a small airport. I could not get rerouted to Pasco, Yakima, or Pendleton before the next morning. The airline scheduled me to arrive on the first plane into Walla Walla Saturday morning and put me in a hotel in Seattle. I got up at 7am and went to Sea-Tac airport for my flight. The new plane was delayed and then the flight was outright canceled with it's own maintenance problem. Presently, I am scheduled to depart at 2:25 to arrive in Walla Walla on a different plane at 3:25. I am wearing the same clothes and the same disposable contacts because I don't have access to my checked bag. I've effectively yelled at 4 different customer service desks, but cannot get additional compensation until I fight with the national customer service center that won't open till Tuesday after the holiday. I'm getting hammered and am ordering the most expensive food in the Sea-Tac airport for lunch to maximize the vouchers. I think I'll get the wild alder plank salmon before my flight. My daughter has been heartbroken by this loss of a day on my "3-day weeekend" - there will be hell to pay! Have a good weekend, I'll try to salvage mine!

An Abyss of Emptiness on Valentine's Day

On that most oppressive of all days, V-Day, I was actually required to attend a lecture on Byzantine iconography given by one of the world's foremost experts on Saint Valentinus. Walking back I found it amusing how much the modern concept of V-day is so superficially detached from the historical context of it's origin. As I watched with horror the ritual rush of couples and flowers trying to make something of the scourge of expectation that is V-day, I reconfirmed my position that love is usually a self-deluded falsehood of conditioned brain chemical responses that allow spiritually grotesque (and often physically grotesque) people to find each other appealing. There are exceptions, but they are more rare than most people think. Unfortunately, modern concepts of love are usually driven by self-serving needs to feel desired or special, rather than any selfless disposition toward the other party. It is akin to spiritual prostitution. On every V-day, the level of desperation in the air by people trying to tangibly confirm their ideas of love can be seen as comically tragic. I find this neediness weak and pathetic, people need to learn to cleanse their souls in the pit of despair and loneliness in order to truly find themselves and become a self-contained whole. On the real side of the emotion, I am about to fly back to Oregon today to spend the weekend with my daughter. I will be looking forward to a completely lovely 3 day weekend! Until next week, be well!

Food Coma after a Large Dinner

After a prominent guest speaker today, I was able to gorge myself on a dinner of very high quality at the faculty center (usually no grad student rifraff allowed). As a poor grad student, the opportunity for a free dinner invitation is always welcome. However, this evening offered especially appealing group conversation over drinks and appetizers, followed by a full menu of quality cuisine options and first rate bottles of vino. All the Byzantinists and Late Antiquity people went with a variety of elegantly prepared fish dishes consistent with the prominent Christian iconography associated with fish. The guest speaker actually made a light-hearted comment on the choice similarities reflecting areas of study. Maybe her assessment had something to it as reflected by the conspicuous contrast with the arrival of my dish. A couple hours before, I had just delivered my preliminary paper topic outline to this group. The outline emphasized the importance of gladiatorial games and spectacles in reinforcing Roman imperial order with the executions of Christians in the arena (I also was able to do it without getting bogged down in the quagmire that is Foucault). True to form, the arrival of my succulently juicy medium rare prime-rib dinner confirmed the bloodlust and brutality of my particular area of historical inquiry. In any case, this delicious dinner was followed by a most excellent dessert of the tiramisu variety and more vino. I hadn't eaten a quality meal in quite a while - it was good to gorge myself in true Roman fashion. Now I must lay around in a worthless fashion for a bit. Fine!

A Witness to Job Search Carnage

I'm feeling a bit better after going to the doctor to get checked out physically. Apparently, my respiratory system is somewhat compromised due to chronic air-flow restriction. The situation may require sinus surgery at some point, but other medications will be tried first. I have had some relief with what they tried this week. The situation could be congenital, but it is conspicuous that a majority of my old military unit suffered severe respiratory ailments that forced a great many out on medical disability. We were collectively exposed, without proper equipment, to some nasty stuff that neither our government nor Saddam himself would own up to. The mysterious "fire" that supposedly destroyed the stacks of medical records my unit submitted upon our return to Georgia leaves the situation conveniently ambiguous. Some of my records have been whitewashed to the point that I am shown on a flight from Rota, Spain to Kuwait City then I disappear until I miraculously reappear in Rome months later in preparation for a flight back through Ireland to Hunter Army Air Field in Savannah, Georgia. According to the omniscient federal bureaucracy, I dropped off the planet for awhile despite the existence of archived CBS news footage of me behind 'Slick Willy' Clinton on a platform, an off-camera interview with Connie Chung, and a mild personal confrontation with Clinton's press secretary at the time Dee Dee Myers. This is the specific reason for my personal animosity toward the Clinton political machine. Bill was personable, but his public statements to my unit and the things he briefly said to me about our status turned out to be politically expedient lies. Hillary will function in much the same way with the remnants of this same corrupt machine. Maybe Obama can prevail, but I have my doubts it would be allowed to happen by the party hierarchy. With respect to my politically convenient disappearance from the planet, I guess I must have had access to somekind of intra-dimensional rift in the space-time continuum that allowed me to be nowhere and somewhere at the same time. In any case, my body has remained more resistant to what I was exposed to than most of my comrades, and I guess I'm obstinate enough that it takes quite a bit to kill me off. Maybe, I'm becoming too cranky to die in my old age!
On a side note: I witnessed one of Princeton's top grad students in Classics come to UCLA and try to compete for a job opening. He delivered his presentation and was summarily destroyed by a barrage of questions and attacks, some fair and some not so fair. These attacks left his argument a gutted corpse on the side of the road. I've never seen anything quite so brutal in academia. It was good to see a willingness to to tear down the vacuous pretentiousness that often comes out of the Ivy League, as confirmed by my adviser who did get his PhD from Princeton (of course - C exhibits none of the traits of Ivy corruption). However, this presentation wasn't quite as bad as what this inquisition made it out to be. The candidate was a finalist in this process and did not exude any signs of pretentiousness like what I had seen from Harvard's top-grad a couple of years ago during Oregon's hiring process in Classics. Oregon actually made a tenure offer for an inferior presentation and was turned down when the Harvard grad took a better offer. Once again, institutional repuation trumped intellectual production. The candidate I saw this week was actually better and has no chance at all. I'll be well prepared by the faculty here, but I am not looking forward to losing my secondary adviser next year while she teaches at Oxford for a year. She'll be back to help me in my third year by the time I have to face these same inquisitors, but the preparation is very oppressive. I guess I'll continue to stick to Friedrich's maxim of "that which does not kill you, makes you stronger!" - but it remains daunting. I often feel over my head. I'm off to workout while I have air flow after taking my meds. That is all!