Winter Solstice/Yuletide 2018: The Inaugural Yule Bookfest

I’ve been writing this in a piecemeal fashion, starting around the winter solstice, Dec 21^st.

It has been a long while since I’ve posted an entry; for all good reasons. For the last while, with being in a new relationship, I’ve been more attuned into living intentionally and sharing my life privately with someone instead of being a passive commentator about life and sharing random observations about it with a general audience in written form. With the approach of our first yuletide season together, there also comes this excited eagerness and willingness in both of us to adopt some special thing to make as our own unique holiday tradition as a couple. So, we agreed to include a new observance for ourselves during this season. I feel like it is one worth sharing. Personally, I would hope it catches on with others as well if anyone so chooses to copy it.

The new custom we decided to observe isn’t really a specific local one, or even a Canadian one, but it serves our introverted selves very well. It’s one that we kind of appropriated from Icelandic tradition. By virtue of having relatives in Wynyard SK, a community that was largely founded by Icelandic settlers, I’ve already had some exposure to some traditional Icelandic Christmas (Jól) feast fare (like Rullapylse and Vinarterta) from my past holiday visits there. And now, strangely enough, we’re setting out to sample another custom similar to the one from that island, as a Canadianized form of it to suit us.

Temperature-wise, winters for that island nation seem relatively mild and less miserably frigid when compared to those here in Saskatoon, but given their proximity to the Arctic Circle, their winter nights are a lot longer during the approach to solstice*. The long cold darker nights around either side of winter solstice naturally stage an environment for which to retreat into coziness and stimulating one’s brain with a good story. Despite inhabiting one of the most expensive places to live on Earth, and being quite good at exercising frugality, folks in Iceland seem to spare no expense when it comes to buying and reading books. The result is that they have become one of the most culturally literate societies on Earth. Thus, books of all kinds are the most frequently gifted items around the Christmas season there: so much so that there is a word in their language defining this tradition of exchanging reading material as presents during the winter holidays. This annual tradition of buying and gifting books is called Jólabókaflóð, or “Christmas time book flood” roughly translated into English. It sparked some appeal in both of us when we heard about this custom because we do both like to read and would find this exchange quite endearing. We thought it best to anglicize the name to Yule Bookfest*, (see further below as to why). She suggested having this exchange on the last Advent Sunday before Christmas Day, and I thought that plan was perfect: a day of rest, dedicated to fully relishing the blessing of being able to read in peace with a fresh new story. As much as we love our families and friends; and having a chance to gather with them for feasting, gaming, and drinking, for introverted people this extra onslaught of social activity during the holidays, even with it being awesomely joyful and fun, can be a bit overwhelming and draining at times for our mental lives. Yule Bookfest is thus a way to have a day to simmer down the nerves; to take a breather from excessive social overload from the holidays, and to gain a sort of calmer private celebration; balancing the yuletide joy with some peace.

Most people around here refer to the “Christmas season” as the general period covering the latter half of December; I think this term is too vague, and a little thoughtless and sloppy for my liking. I’m a little more demanding of accuracy. I grew up in a family that, at least for a while during my childhood, observed both the Gregorian and Julian Christmases (December 25^th and January 7^th, respectively), as some other kids did in mixed Anglo-Ukrainian families in the community where I was raised, where these holiday traditions mixed and merged. In my formative childhood years, I remember that I was sometimes insistent in having others specify which Christmas they were referring to when they were trying to talk to me about the holidays. When I refer to Christmas, I mean specifically Christmas day (Dec 25^th) or I get even more specific in defining it in mentioning Julian/Ukrainian/Orthodox Christmas on Jan 7^th, and don’t usually use it so vaguely to refer to any other time within the period of December and early January. For that, I‘ve been reverting to the word “yuletide”, for referring to the greater span of days of celebrating between and during Advent and mid-January. Yuletide may sound a little more pretentious and a bit archaic, but it is a word I’m noticing that I’m becoming fond of and favoring (at least in my writing) of its use instead of using “Christmas” all the time ubiquitously over the whole season. Partially because it is a better term that can extend to generally include all days from the first Advent Sunday to Orthodox New Year’s Day (Jan 14^th) and all days in between, and covering all holidays during that time from many other cultures, including newer bizarrely contrived ones (as perhaps ours is), with the celestial event of winter solstice roughly being the tethering post in the middle of it all. As for our new celebration, I’d like to start off doing this special day right, at the very least linguistically*. I see calling it “Yule Bookfest” instead of the original “Jólabókaflóð”, or “Christmas Bookflood”, as necessarily suitable because:

·         As I said, it leaves the word Yule to indicate an extended period of winter days; not just the singular day, of Christmas. After all, one usually needs more than just one day to completely finish and enjoy a book

·         Yule is a shorter word to type than Christmas. I get lazy at typing sometimes, and brevity is sweet and efficient for modernistic purposes. Plus, there are no accented characters, or funny letters (like eth -“Đ,ð”) to mess around with while typing, unlike the original Icelandic word.  This form does respect at least some part of the cognate** from which it was translated.

·         It better denotes that it’s not a serious religious observance; it’s open for anyone to enjoy, no matter what creed/faith, or lack thereof. One has only to appreciate the gift of a book, so we can just leave the term Christmas alone.

·         Rather than a flood, it’s just a single book to gift each other, for indulging in deeply. So, the word fest is best.

·         From the Wikipedia definition below,*** yule is a word originally derived from something rooted in a concept of playing, feasting, merrymaking, and joking around; not being seriously contemplative or solemnly meditative. There’s plenty of time left to do that latter stuff for the goddamned miserable other part, from January onward, of a Saskatchewan winter.

What else does this special day perhaps entail besides exchanging books? I think being costumed in ultra-comfortable loungewear (e.g. housecoat, sweatpants, and/or pyjamas), finger snacks (preferably drier ones to avoid smudging your pages: perhaps cheese, crackers and various other chacuterie), a warm(ing) beverage, perhaps by a crackling fireplace, and not moving too far beyond one’s armchair, or chesterfield. Snuggling and napping between chapters is permissible and encouraged.

My girlfriend picked out a perfect book for me: both in terms as theme material for this day, and the reflection of the kind of person I am, and the strange characters I’m interested in relating to. The book I was gifted for this inaugural celebration of pages was a piece of fiction written by Robin Sloan titled Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. A cool story that involves a bright, but somewhat hapless young fellow who falls into unfolding some strange secrets centered around this bookstore and its gentleman proprietor, Mr. Penumbra. It's kind of book that will inspire you to recommit to being a more avid reader, and to perhaps try to write in more than just some unidimensional prose. It has re-affirmed ambitions that I should follow up on in the coming new year.

This is a bit of a digression . . . but the nerdy part of me usually likes to reflect on the anthropological stuff as to how and why certain traditions have originated over the holidays. This year, it’s kind of nice to be an active force in it all. Speaking of new and modern Canadian yuletide traditions, it leads me to wonder what will be unveiled in this special inaugural year of the legalization of cannabis in this country. I’m going to guess (perhaps correctly) that several folks around the country are probably going to embellish the theme having a “green Christmas” to the max. Perhaps this is the year where there will be started some grand tradition of some kind of Yuletide Bongfest which will become adopted by the potheads of this country: exchanging weed and the means for which to smoke and consume it. I presume it could be on December 20^th (to correspond with the “20” in 4/20). Who knows.

If there was one thing I wish people would tune into more of as an addiction, I wish it was the substance of reading and literature. Long winters here in Canada would set us up for making a few more scholars if Yule Bookfest was taken seriously as a celebration.

*- Sunrise on Dec 21^st in Reykjavik, 11:21 am; sunset, 3:29 pm. In Saskatoon, Sunrise, 9:12 am; sunset 4:56 pm.

**- Given that this is a bilingual nation, I would suppose that we could possibly call this “Fête d’Hiver des Livres” for the Francophones, but I’ll leave that to be properly translated by someone with a better command of French than I have.

***- Yule (from Middle English yole, from Old English ġeōl, ġeōla (“Christmastide, midwinter”), either cognate from Old Norse jól (“midwinter season, yule”),^[2] from Proto-Germanic *jehwlą (“celebration, festivity; yule”), perhaps from Proto-Indo-European *yekə- (“joke, play”)) +‎ -tide (“period around a holiday”) (from Old English tīd (“period, season, time; feast-day, festal-tide”), ultimately from Proto-Indo-European *dī-(“time”)).

The Power of a Prisoner with a Nail

I should be trying to sleep for longer, but finding a moment to sit outside on a wonderfully calm and peaceful Sunday morning in early summer is the next best thing. It sets a fine stage for a lot of mental clarity, so I thought I would write. It has been a long lapse since I wrote anything on this blog. I’ve had nothing that I would have cared to come forth with and share for a long while. I’ve been working a couple of months now in a position in which the daytime hours are much more agreeable to my physical and mental constitution. Before that, I was suffering all sorts of things between last entry and now that I would rather not post. Thankfully, most of those conditions from back then have since improved.

I accomplished a goal a couple days ago. I managed to commit to learning nine language modules each day: one for each different language I’m learning, for a hundred days straight. It is a sub-goal to apply to the greater mission; that is to get to tour Europe someday* (without the insanity of being confined in a bloody tour group). As for now, I’ve only been able to apply them to the odd text now and then, and answering questions in trivia games now and then. Retaining absolutely everything that I’ve learned is doubtful. The real prize is knowing that I’ve been able to get this far into it. I’ve been able to translate some foreign phrases from Facebook posts more instantly in my head with less effort; even in Russian, the hardest (I find) of the set of languages I’ve been trying to learn. I caught myself even dreaming in Spanish one night. Hopefully that’s a sign that some things are being integrated mentally and thus sinking in; but more likely, it is probably because it is the only other language, besides French and German, with which I have had the most practical experience in using.

The new position is a bit more rigorous, but I have no complaints about it. The extra rigour prompts me to think of how to do things more efficiently to save my energy. Thoughts of exercising efficiency along with improving skills with hacking languages has prompted interest in me to start thinking about ways of hacking other things that are more practical and applicable. Learning, applying and entertaining myself with tricks and shortcuts for mental arithmetic is becoming a renewed fascination for me. It comes at an emotional price though. When I review them I get extremely pissed off when I find brilliant hacks and mnemonic techniques, some of which are actually centuries old, that were never shown to me during my elementary/high school/university years which could have made life so much easier. I hate the so-call modern education curricula because so many things that are truly practical and brilliant to learn are rarely included in them. These tricks and hacks become repressed because it conflicts with what is institutional. It’s a sign of a system that really doesn’t want you empowered; just controlled and conforming. After entering “mental math hacks” in a search engine, I found links to the Trachtenberg system. I tried out a few tricks with it, and I must say that I’m impressed (and I don’t impress easy). As interesting and unique as the techniques for calculation are with this system, the background story of its creator is far more intriguing. I’m pleased to say that I have found a new hero who merits his story being shared. It’s like a story akin to something that Ian Flemming could have wrote. It’s a story of a heroic champion nerd who challenged and came out on top of defying the worst of the “schoolyard bullies”. The next couple of paragraphs is my precis of it**.

Jakow Trachtenberg was an engineer by vocation, an aspiring and brilliant one, who began of his career soon after the beginning of the twentieth century in a shipyard in the Ukrainian port city of Odessa, which was then ruled by the Romanov dynasty of Tsarist Russia. During his rule, Tsar Nicolas II was very intent on having a modern navy, and Trachtenberg was put in charge as Chief Engineer of this project, managing up to 11,000 workers to build those ships and their armaments. Despite this particular assignment, he was a dedicated pacifist, going so far as to found a society of Good Samaritans when World War I broke out: preparing others for the care and treatment of the wounded. All of that changed though. The course of his life was interrupted by the Russian Revolution in 1917. When the Communists took control of Russia, and all the lands within its empire, Trachtenberg soon found himself out of work because their mandate didn’t include building ships (or perhaps it was just because since it was the former Tsar’s plan, they had to be contrarian to it). Being appalled by the violence of the revolution, and the brutal and widespread killing of the citizenry, Trachtenberg became quite an outspoken critic against the Communist regime. As this choice act clashed with Communist ideology, it pissed off the respective authorities enough to make him a target dissident whom they were going to detain and most certainly do harm to. They had already killed some of his family members. So, under disguise, he fled to Berlin to make a new life. There, he managed to have enough charm to woo and then marry a woman of aristocratic status; he applied his intelligence into developing an inventive system for teaching foreign languages, and also started to publish a pacifist magazine. If he rolled any dice for deciding to move to Germany, he wouldn’t have guessed that he was going to crap out given the way its history was about to unfold. It undoubtedly seemed like a good idea at the time, since Germany had just ended a horrible war that cost them millions of lives, and the folks there might be interested in learning a thing or two about how to live in peace. However, the National Socialist Party that was coming into power under Hitler had a bit of a different take on such things.

Trachtenberg, once again, found himself falling ass-backwards into bad luck by preaching peace and non-violence under the watchful eye of the wrong sort of political opposition. Being some kind of guy who was doing all this crazy-talk about peace, which conflicted with the crazy-talk of a dictator who was planning for world domination – well, it kind of brought him under a lens of suspicion at that time. Strike one for Jakow! Doing that as an Auslander (foreigner) no less in the beloved Fatherland no doubt didn’t sit well with the new Nazi party either. It was probably perceived as a lot more intensely negative being that such a foreigner was originally from one of the lands east of Germany, which were supposedly full of those inferior Untermenschen, like Ukraine was regarded to be in the propaganda. Strike two for Jakow! And just to be really screwed with bad luck, the fact that Trachtenberg was ethnically Jewish had thrown another few shovels full onto the shit pile of trouble that he was already buried neck deep in with the Nazis. A smart fellow like Trachtenberg saw that he needed to make some tracks . . . right the hell out of Germany. So, he fled to Austria and worked with a science magazine there for a while; but then the Nazis started the Anschluss, annexing Austria into the Third Reich, so that had him on the run again. The Gestapo and the SS had sought him out everywhere, as his reputation put him high up on Hitler’s shit list of people to be arrested and detained. Although he did his best to evade them, he was soon captured in Yugoslavia, and then was shipped off to a Konzentrationslager.

During that time of his imprisonment, to keep his sanity and wits about him, while witnessing and enduring the despair, and the horrific ruthlessness and brutality of the concentration camp, Trachtenberg mentally retreated into the abstract world of mathematics and numbers. They couldn’t take that away from him. Possession of paper or writing implements was risking severe punishment or worse by the guards, as well as having any other arbitrary thing that could be assumed to be used for forbidden communications. Since he didn’t have any access to even simple materials to help him make complex calculations, he devised his own system of algorithms that he could use to make mental shortcuts to compute large numbers mentally. The only other calculation instrument he had (besides his brain) was a nail he found somewhere in the camp, which he used to scratch in the dirt, or on wood, to do ciphers and devise his theoretical algorithms. He regarded that nail as his best friend and his salvation while he was in that camp. When he did find paper to write on, it was bits of wrapping paper and old envelopes, and because it was so scarce, he used it only to secretly record his finished theories of his method.

His real salvation to escaping that camp was the action of his aristocrat wife, who managed to bribe a guard to get him out. It happened just before he was given a death sentence. Long story short, he managed to escape with his wife to a refugee camp in Switzerland. He and his wife remained there after the war, and established a mathematical institute in Zurich, based on the theories and mental shortcuts he devised when he was in the concentration camp. He began teaching it to children who were once failing miserably in classes based on the traditional math teaching methods, who then began to excel at solving math problems using his system. He instructed children who were deemed “mentally retarded” who, after being taught his system, were doing arithmetic that challenged most average adults. His institute was highly regarded as the best the place to be if one wanted to pursue an advanced career in architecture, engineering, and anything else math related in Europe since its founding in the 1950s, at least until the tech and computer revolution.

It’s a shame that this triumphant bit of history isn’t more well known. I guess that’s why I chose to share it here. My youngest nephew will be graduating soon, and going into post-secondary education program in the fall that will be more intensive for learning maths and physics. I hope he has the sense to do his own bit of hack-seeking, to find out what works best for him mnemonically, and in practice. He should be at least thankful that he has more than a nail at his disposal.

*- Knowing so many languages might be a bit impractical, I am not OK about touring any place where I’m plunged into an environment where in essence I’m rendered functionally illiterate; no matter how well I’m accommodated with services in my native language. Misunderstandings will inevitably occur: one should know some manners and polite greetings, and basics at the very least to help smooth things over when that happens. Numbers are an absolute must to learn, since math and counting money is universal.

**- Given that it’s close to the anniversary of D-Day, sharing something that is somewhat of another victory during World War II seems right as well.

Praise and Thanks to Alan

November continues to be a month of solemn salutes, tributes, and commemorations. For this year, along with things like Remembrance day and Movember, the month holds the 50th anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy down in the states. That event happened before I was born*, in a nation apart from me, and thus I'm more ignorant of it than one who actually lived through that piece of history; but I look upon that day as when the best possible seed for a continuous destiny of positive growth and change for the Americans had died as well, and nothing ever really appeared as a decent replacement in any other equivalent form since then.

Today marks another sad anniversary of sorts. November 16th of this year is the 40th anniversary of the passing of a person who has been a lot more impressionable to me than someone like Kennedy was. I rarely bring attention to the people whom I regard as heroes, icons, and mentors. However for today, it would feel wrong for me not to write something about him.

Alan Wilson Watts
January 6th, 1915 - November 16th, 1973

Alan Watts was a philosopher, and a keen intellect who dared to bring eastern religions to light, comparing them with those ideas of a largely conservative western contemporary establishment at the time, examining it all with strong objectivity, and yet somehow avoiding to "preach" about such things. He often introduced himself as a self-acclaimed "spiritual entertainer"; and he was very effective at this role. It was through his lectures that I was introduced to Zen Buddhism, one thing I began to find more solace in thereafter. What I most liked about Alan was not only his choice of many lecture topics, but his manner of delivering them. I admired him most as a speaker. Whenever I want to really focus on communicating something with a great degree of fortitude and depth, yet with an eloquent, calm, humorous and kindly manner, it's his voice that enters my head that I use as a model for doing it**. He probably did a lot to show me how to freely engage, and courageously make, an esoteric subject much less intellectually abstract, at least as a writer, and proved to me that even liberal and nonsensical use of sound effects in the course of a serious discussion is a good thing and can do a lot to make your point, and that people can take what you say seriously without you taking yourself too seriously. Watts started off being a religious interpreter, but he progressed to examining things more in the spheres of more science and anthropology. What I most appreciate him for is for ultimately being an interpreter of consciousness and how it fits in reality. He made thinking on deeper issues of existence look like fun! Listen to him long and often enough, and you will never allow yourself to ever have another boring thought ever again when you wonder about the metaphysical things in nature.

How exactly I discovered the works and wisdom of Alan Watts escapes my memory: it's still a mystery to me. I just remember that it happened about a decade ago, at a time when I felt most downtrodden, the most burnt-out, and when I was at my worst in failing to feel like a human being of some worth. I was very disgruntled, depressed, and disillusioned. I totally snapped after dealing with a lot of stress, and at the same time being treated like a tool/peon by fools who claimed to be religious, or acting like they were morally superior to me; but at the same time, would press me to do their dirty work, slander, backstab, and would throw me under the bus as easily as flipping a coin. I became distrustful of everyone and completely bereft of a spiritual centre, or an inner happy place to retreat to; and there was no way I was going to return back to those from whom I felt the most betrayal. To this day, I regard religious zealousness and sanctimony, and those who try to be authoritarian through such means, as being far more perverse than any of the vices spelled out by the seven deadly sins. Listening to Alan's lectures helped me emerge from the hatred I was feeling for much of humanity, to finding a curiosity and appreciation about things and wonders of everyday life, and finding more of a place for myself in it. His words and teachings did a lot to rescue me.

I only wish that something more happened that could have rescued him. I wish he lived longer, and I wish I discovered this guy and used him as a teacher and mentor much earlier on in my life. I think I would have made so many better decisions about: who to befriend, how to be rebellious in a manner that's benevolent***, where to find peace, and how to question other people's motives without putting them on the defensive. Alan was not without his own foibles and troubles. Despite being such a personable lecturer, his own interpersonal relationships weren't so easy for him. He had been married three times; each marriage dissolving into separation and divorce. His own death was caused by a heart condition, suspected to be complicated and worsened by chronic overuse of alcohol; dying on this day at a relatively young age of 58 years old. I'm thankful for the treasure trove of his writings and lectures that he had recorded during the time that he was with us on this Earth.

I can't explain the thinking of Alan Watts better than he could himself. So, to close, I'm including the following links of a couple of his more enjoyable/notable talks. Feel free to explore and click on more of his lectures in You Tube, or check out his podcasts, if you wish.

You're It -by Alan Watts

 

Animation by Matt Stone and Trey Parker: the creators of South Park. 

*- In a nation that never had any political assassinations of any of its leaders I must add . . . 
**- I have to sometimes watch myself while I'm doing it though as I speak: because strangely, the British accent he had tends to sneak into the choice of words I use if I'm not careful.
***- Like how both Buddha and Jesus did.
 

In Remembrance (추억의)

For this time of the year, I felt a need to share this memory from an experience I had last August. I was riding home one weekend afternoon. I spotted a young Asian woman trying to wave down motor traffic from the side of the street. When she saw me approaching, she dashed out onto the road in the path of my bike; forcing me to stop. She was a bit flustered and anxious, trying to explain to me in broken English that she was lost and trying to find a local address. Once she calmed down, and was more readily able to understand me, I managed to draw her a crude map on the back of an envelope to show her where to go. I asked her where she was from. In her reply, it wasn't what she said, but how she said it that struck me to the bone. She told me that she was from South Korea, drawing out extra emphasis on the word "south". She said it very deliberately and adamantly, like she had to make it clearly known to me that she wasn't one of them, as if to completely disassociate herself from something very vile and evil. I came to realizing on that late summer day that this year would be the 60th anniversary of the end of hostilities of the Korean War*.

It's a bloody shame that there is still this despicable geopolitical abomination on this planet called North Korea, with its six decade long dynasty of wicked totalitarianism. The notable tone in that young lady's response was a mixture of both pride and gratitude of who she was, and of a sorrow laden shame that there are these people who are ethnically identical to her, but have been perverted and corrupted culturally and politically; rendered into some sort of sub-species without rights or freedoms. These same people could be directly related to her, but at the same time conditioned such that on a simple order, they may be turned against her to kill her and her loved ones without any second thought. As bad as that all sounds, it could be so much worse. That entire peninsula could have been overrun by the Communist forces, and there would be about another 50 million more Koreans today being starved, oppressed and subjected to the depraved indoctrination by the Kim legacy. That would be 50 million more Koreans under this type of dictatorship: a number 10 million greater than the current population of Canada; and we have our veterans to thank for not allowing that to happen. Had the political entities on the side of South Korea, with any real interest in democracy and human rights, during that time had foresight into what North Korea would eventually be devolving into, there probably would still have been fighting going on until that peninsula was entirely liberated.

We have failed for a long time to take a better reckoning of this fact. We have been more dismissive of this time, and undervaluing our veterans' role during that point of history, somehow putting it behind our nation's victories and sacrifices in the European theatres of battle in scale, scope and significance. The media and political forces have stooped to calling our military presence on the Korean peninsula a "police action", or simply terming it the "Korean Conflict"** That has made us ignorant of the not only the real historical impact it had, but also in terms of the suffering and horror soldiers and civilians alike endured. Sadly, our perception of that period only gets viewed most commonly through dark comedy reruns of M*A*S*H. I would never insult or disrespect our veterans who were involved there by diminishing it with lesser labels; by calling it something other than what it was. It was indeed a war.

This is my special thanks to those men and women, to the Canadians and other UN force veterans, who served for that critical time in history. I'm sure the same appreciation comes from that young lady I helped in August, and the remaining 50 million free Koreans, who are prosperous today in comparison to their subjugated northern neighbours. Peace be with you all.

I see the greeting of "Have a Happy Remembrance Day" being shared on signs and posts on Facebook. I know people mean it as a good intention, or are at least grateful for a statutory holiday, but I think the more correct and appropriate greeting we should share is: "Have an Appreciative Remembrance Day". War, or memory of it, shouldn't exactly incite the feeling of "happiness", except for its ending. We have to be wary of the fact that the rights and freedoms we have today didn't come to us cheaply. Let us rightly honour those who gave some sacrifice, either in deed or in blood, in order that our generations in peace time have rights and freedom.

*Technically, the war between those nations hasn't ended: no official peace treaty has been signed between the two nations; it has been just been a prolonged cease-fire.
**- When you have a nation as large as Communist China, backed with a million man Red Army, involved as an oppositional force, there is no way in hell you can trivialize that situation as a "police action" or a simple "conflict".

Demon, Get Out of My Spine!

I’m writing this while I’m in the foulest of moods. I’m stricken with stabbing pains in my lower back, so much so that I’ve been rendered mostly immobile since yesterday afternoon. The occurrence of this was so freakish and ironic. Despite all the chances to acquire this by walking and slipping on ice within the past few days, it didn’t happen that way. Instead, it happened in the gym. Between the track and treadmill, I did 7.7 km of running activity, and then decided to do some core training: with special focus and intent to ‘strengthen my back’. The stupid bench that I sat on wasn’t secured properly. The wild scene that resulted was me losing balance, twisting sharply, and abruptly flipping backwards onto the floor. I think that the effort in trying to correct myself in “mid-flight” did more harm to me than the actual damned fall itself. So now, I’m stuck at home, using ice compresses, and gobbling up Ibuprofin and anti-inflammatory pills like they were Halloween candy. I went to the office at work today to attend to a duty there briefly; even that brief visit there became too excruciating, and it feels like I’m drained from anymore activity for the rest of today. So, I’m retreating into writing: to do something that forces me to sit still, and to drain myself of this negativity, which hopefully will result in also easing some tension in my strained back muscles.

Speaking of Halloween candy, if I’m getting trick-or-treaters coming by tomorrow knocking periodically, I’ll definitely be in no comfortable shape even to get up and off the chesterfield to answer the door if the pain keeps on persisting, like the way it is now, on through to tomorrow. If I did dress up, the only option I feel like I have now is to be Quasimodo.

Before my lucidity becomes too compromised by pain, or by the junk I’m using to stop it, I thought it would be fitting to share what is really scary to me about this Halloween. It’s the realization about how aged I’m feeling, and how old I’m probably starting to appear. It started when I peered through the TV listings this weekend, and noticed that The Exorcist was playing on one of the movie channels, along with the other scary movies for this season. I remember that this was the first horror movie that I ever saw as a kid, and because I was a kid, and perhaps because all this crazy possession business was happening in a kid, this movies was the one that freaked me out the most for a long time, so I researched it a bit. I looked back at the casting through IMDb, and noted the stats in the biography of Max Von Sydow, the actor who played the character of the frail, old priest, Father Merrin. It turns out that Von Sydow was only in his mid-forties when he was cast as the old priest . . . around to the same friggin’ age I am now. Jesus Christ! When did this bullshit start happening? I know that life expectancy was a bit shorter in the early seventies (when this film was made), but regarding people in their forties as old is ridiculous. Maybe I’m over-reacting, and this is just a revelation of either the brilliant acting skill of Von Sydow to play a character who looked thirty years older than he actually was, or a glimpse of just how badly Von Sydow was a victim to pre-mature aging (even worse than I am), if he didn’t use that much make-up for the role. Whether it's the one case or the other, it's still disheartening to know that I'm at that age where I could probably appear as, or play, the role of an aged senior so convincingly as well.

I’m trying hard not to be a victim of my age number. In fact, I must admit that the reason I went back to the gym (before this miserable outcome happened) was that I was (re)inspired by another guy, around my age, who’s a movie star. Daniel Craig is at it again, playing James Bond, Agent 007, in the upcoming movie Skyfall. It is coming to cinemas here soon, and I can’t wait to see it on big screen. Daniel Craig was the guy who served as a fitness model for me, and got me directing myself into getting into fitness mode, at a time when I thought I was doing more decaying than thriving health-wise. If Daniel Craig played the old priest in The Exorcist, he would have made that demon his bitch within a minute. Once I recover though, I have to make it a point to not be so zealous in trying to get back into Bond-form.

I feel like I need yet another role model, this time for the sake of my learning objectives and personal standards of productivity and efficiency. The meds and muscle relaxants are kicking in now; maybe I’ll have a vision as to who that might be, in a dream as I drift. . .off to . . .sleee. . .zzzzzzzz.

Mendel Tour and Civilization V

The scale here doesn't show it, but
what struck me about this armour was
 how small the actual body size of it
 was, like pygmy size, compared to how
 large people are here today.
The samurai may have been little folks,
but they were tough and disciplined.
 (Photos from Mendel Art Gallery)

My comment about the samurai warriors in my last entry was somewhat coincidental. The day after, just for a hoot, as I was walking around the river trails, I went to the Mendel art gallery to check things out there. To my surprise there was an amazing exhibit there with arts and artifacts from feudal Japan, of the era between the 1600s to the late 1800s when European explorers and traders started to infiltrate this society that was isolated and closed itself off to foreigners for centuries. There were many splendid watercolours and woodblock prints that depicted life and culture of ancient Japan. If you are in Saskatoon and interested in historical art pieces from Asia, I highly recommend viewing the Edo exhibit at the Mendel Art Gallery while it’s still there.

It was a rest day for me yesterday from my running schedule, and not too soon either. My knees and feet have been getting a little too fatigued and joint pain and cramping is resulting. Even though it was a perfect day to be outdoors, I was relegated to chill out at home and occupy myself with more sit still activities. I had a restless mind though, and the afterthoughts of theme of the long Japanese isolation at the Mendel Art Gallery prompted me to I dig out a PC game that I haven’t touched in ages, which I became totally enthralled with as I played it, which is the reason my eyes are so sore today. It is the ultimate game for people, especially adults, who have a freak on for history/anthropology. The game is Civilization V (V as in Roman numeral five).

An authentic samurai sword, its scabbard, and tsuba (hand guards)
circa 1600. Perhaps this thing actually did have a soul.

For those who never heard of the Sid Meier’s Civilization series, created by Firaxis, the concept of the game is basically that of a “god game”: where you start out being given a tribe of Stone Age era hunter-gatherers, and through trial and error, using the environment they are subsisting in, you try to create a more evolved and advanced form of their civilization by means of discovered resources, trade and commerce, and variable degrees of war and peace with the other neighbouring tribes which are competing against you. The most dominant civilizations that have existed, or still do, in our history (e.g. the Egyptians, the Greeks, the English, the Americans, etc.) are the ones that are used as archetypes for opponents in the game. The first version of this game was the one which changed my attitude about video games not being educational, or just for kids. It came to my understanding that some teachers were actually using this game in their history classes as part of their curriculum. The wild thing about the game for me is that it always primes my head with questions as to what the world today would look like if there were courses of alternative history that consequently followed if someone in a leadership position zigged instead of zagged. Such questions include things like “what if. . .

·         The Japanese weren’t an isolated nation and actively explored the world?

·         Neither the Soviet Union, nor the United States was involved with the space race, but it was taken over by the Chinese instead?”

·         The Earth’s landmass wasn’t composed of mainly continents, but rather scattered little islands and archipelagos?”

·         The Aztecs or Incas had first contact with the Arabs instead of the Spanish?”

·         The Russians never adopted communism?”

·         Neither Judaism, nor Christianity, nor Islam existed as any one of the world’s major religions?”

·         The Zulus first discovered electricity and were the ones to create an Industrial Revolution?”

·         The world was drier and covered with more ice (like the previous Ice Age)?”

·         The Iroquois totally exterminated the European colonists in what is/was Canada?”

·         The Vikings continued to rule the British Isles?”

·         Only one giant continent (Pangaea) spanned across the face of the planet?”

·         The Romans became dominated by the Greeks, instead of vice versa?”

·         Australia was colonized by settlers from India?”

·         The Persians conquered all of Eastern Asia?”

All those examples of such scenarios, and countless others with their respective timelines could be theoretically played out and explored through the course of the game. The ultimate object of the game is to establish your own civilization’s presence within a given time span by means of scientific, cultural, economic achievements, and/or military force if necessary. There is an expansion pack available for it which I don’t have yet: Civilization V: Gods and Kings, which involves creation of religious factions and influence, and more political skullduggery in the course of the game play. I want to deal with religious and political matters as little as possible, so I think I’ll leave this one on the shelf.  

 I can hardly see this as being a game for children, it’s too educational! The nice thing about the game is that it in it is provided a built in civilopedia to help the players learn about actual historical facts and progressions in society. I don’t usually use more than an hour to fiddle around with console or PC games, but this one hooked me in for at least five. I was involved with creating an alternate history and empire for the obscure kingdom of Siam. I managed to discover electricity at the same time when some other civilizations were in their medieval period. My biggest problem is an enemy called the Songhai, an African tribe with an attitude of Attila the Hun, but I’m keeping them at bay so far with some good diplomacy.

Parents, if you are looking for a PC game that won’t warp your kids’ minds too much with senseless violence, will give them some savvy about the otherwise boring subjects of history and economics, and one which you could enjoy along with them, this would be the one to get. I believe parents have to be more involved with the interests of their children; many aren’t because they are far too estranged from the technology that their kids are using for entertainment and too damn foolishly stubborn to say so. Parents/adult guardians have to sit down and learn to play video games with their kids and enjoy the experience: to monitor the content and activity, to learn how to get comfortable themselves with new technology* and information/social media innovations that are going to be a major part of their children’s future.

Some video games are now developed such that they may be beneficial to your mental health. More and more studies are showing that brains actively involved in exercises of monitoring kinetic motion, using logic, playing music, creative problem solving and language skills, are less likely to be afflicted by geriatric mental disorders like dementia and Alzheimer’s disease. All of those aforementioned activities can be engaged with and exercised in playing video games (in moderation of course).

If you were ever worried that video games were dangerous things, I’d like to share a thought from a man who is one of my modern day heroes. He is a fellow Canadian by the name of Frank Ogden, who markets himself and his consulting services as Dr. Tomorrow. Frank is definitely not a candidate for dementia or Alzheimer’s. Frank is a futurologist: a person who specializes in observing trends and studying what their possible impact may be in the future. Frank is well into his 90’s and still being an active pundit and keeping tabs on the latest in technology, resource management, and trends in education and media in the real game of civilization**. One of his quotes is "A bulldozer of change is charging over the planet, and if you're not part of the bulldozer, you'll become part of the road."

 From what I learned at the Mendel, Japan may have been a cultured, yet isolationist nation but in the real world game of civilization, it is winning with video games, thanks to their corporations like Nintendo and Sony. I hope that our government and industries in this nation gain this kind of spirit of adaptive prowess soon.

*- Are you listening Mom?

**- Interesting note: Frank was involved with the first clinical studies of experimentation with LSD here in Saskatchewan in the 50’s and 60’s, which occurred here first before it ever hit the scene in a place like San Francisco.

Bless You Steve Jobs... Funeral Protesters...Go To Hell!

It's not a normal habit of mine to actively read over the obituaries of celebrities; in the recent case of Steve Jobs though, I somehow couldn't help but to feel obliged to do so. It's partially due to the fact that I sincerely admire his ingenuity, but a lot of it has to do with the fact that we both shared this experience in developing pancreatic problems. I got lucky and overcame mine. It wasn't so for him, and it progressed to something worse that ended his life. I found myself curious if how he dealt with the news was anything similar to the way I did. I hoped to find out when and where his the funeral services would be, and to perhaps even find an online book of condolences to share my sentiments for this great innovator.

My search through the postings of the death of Steve Jobs was a sobering reminder as to why I have divorced and abandoned myself completely away from the stupidity of religious dogmatism and fundamentalism, and the people who fanatically chose to follow such things. When it comes to spirtuality or religion, there is nothing more disgusting to me than people using their sanctimony, or citing "God's will", to preach hatred, abuse, and violence, no matter which faith it is. Through the news gleaned in my searches, I discovered a reprehensible plan by the Westboro Baptist Church of Kansas to intrude, and picket, and protest at the funeral of this wonderful human being who has brought so much benefit to modern society. Their reason, according to a Twitter message from one of it's members, which ironically was sent from an iPhone (which Steve Jobs of course invented), is stated as,"Westboro will picket his funeral. He [Jobs] had a huge platform; gave God no glory & taught sin." Read more: http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/312445#ixzz1a6wadcw3*

If I was ever approached by the fool who ever said that to me, and if I was given no choice to avoid engaging with them about the subject, I'd have to point out to them that Steve Jobs wasn't even a Christian, but a Zen Buddhist; and if he indeed lived up to using a Zen perspective, a.) he would have regarded his "platform" not so much as huge, but non-permanent and ever-changing/evolving, and he wisely did not squander it to the will of absolutist thinkers (or thinking), b.) with a Zen mind, it wouldn't have been a concern to him as to whether or not there was even a God to give any glory to, and c.) there is no such doctrine or dogma in Zen Buddhism that recognizes such a concept as "sin" to begin with** therefore he didn't make it some mandate of his to intentionally "teach" sin to others. How Jobs supposedly "taught sin", according to the WBC, was that he somehow made Apple Inc. a very "pro-homosexual" company.

Of course the members of the WBC are too busy bending interpretations of scriptures to make them suit their political agenda, and would seem far too ignorant to bring themselves around to Zen Buddhist thinking like Steve Jobs did: that is, being mindful and noting interdependence of all things in existance, and the interplays of cause and effect. They proved that their organization has no problem or qualms about using computer technology to do their self-righteous gay-bashing; yet they fail to see the irony that without one gay person at a critical time in our history, there might not have been any computers (as we know them), nor even any freedom of speech for this group to enjoy or exploit for expressing their delusional beliefs for that matter. It would help if I used the context of something in real history about another "computer innovator" to shed light on that last point.

During World War II, the British were feverishly trying to develop a machine to decode the cyphers being intercepted from the German U-boat fleets in order to get a leg up on the Battle of the Atlantic. A man with a brilliant mathematical and technical mind, named Alan Turing, was the genius who contributed to this decryption project in Blechley Park in London that ultimately broke the Nazis codes. This in turn helped the British turn the tables to have more allied shipping and supplies safely arrive; saving Britain from starvation and scarcity of other defense resources. This the helped lead to the allies victory in Europe, which ultimately overthrew the stranglehold of fascism and preserved democracy and free speech, at least in Western Europe. Alan Turing's ingenuity also laid out the ground work for the technology for the first digital computers, which were ultimately used to accelerate developments for the Manhatten Project, which finally led to the victory over Japan, thus securing America's victory and democracy. Turing also happened to be a homosexual.

I can't help but to wonder how differently the world could be now, and the alternate consequences that would have unfolded, if a scenario occurred where some ignorant, bigoted, sanctimonious bastard found out about Alan`s lifestyle, and just for sport, used his religiously-inspired prejudice to find Turing and incidentally beat him to death in a gay-bashing frenzy before Turing was ever able to finish the vital work for he was doing for the defense of Britain during that war. Britain may have then lost out to the evils of Nazism had that happened. I would hate and fear being under the boot heel of a totalitarian regime (ie. no right to intellectual freedom, no freedom of expression, no right to assemble, and no right to vote or live democratically, and no right to question authority) far more so than I would ever fear and hate someone who was a homosexual. Living life under the ideology of religious fundamentalists would be very close to, if not exactly like, living under a totalitarian regime.

I've seen the ugly face of this radical WBC group before. They are into the condemnation of any person or celebrity figure whom they regard as being so "sinful" as to respect the rights of gays and lesbians.  This band of brain-washed idiots also protested at the more recent military funerals of the American soldiers who served overseas, citing that it was God's punishment to America for being more tolerant of homosexuality in society.They're more of a cult than a church, being made up of mostly family members under the direction of it's deranged leader*** Fred Phelps. I once saw a YouTube video of Phelps expounding his gratitude that "George Carlin is now in HELL!" soon after Carlin's death in 2008. George Carlin, despite his culture-clashing, satirical style of humour (like the Seven Words You Can't Say on Television routine), did so much to actually pave the way for freedom of speech rights in American media, and examine the semantics of our public (or decent) use of language. So, then Phelps and his troop of ultra-conservative religious loonies exploited those very same rights that Carlin exemplified and even legally fought for, only to then publically broadcast the 'damnation' of George Carlin. George Carlin did all that dirty work for them, only to have them abuse this freedom of speech that they have to announce that he'll be sent to hell for what he did. How ironic can you get!

If indeed the WBC successfully executes its indecent intention to disrupt the service and rites of the funeral of Steve Jobs (or any other people they term as "sinners"), I'll be very saddened and fearful. Protesting at a funeral, in my mind, defies all that is decent. Willfully disrupting an event of commemoration for a person's good works on Earth of finding new innovations that unite humanity with new technology, and then using that same technology to try to rally people together to indignify and defame him is beyond insulting, and exposes a whole new level of deplorable ignorance in religious fanatics. They will only prove to the rest of the world yet another monstrous side of themselves; how arrogant, bigoted, intolerant, hypocritical, and obnoxious religious fundamentalists are, and how willing such people are to trespass and encroach on the events of harmonious commemoration and celebration others are trying to create.


* - I only include the link for an accurate reference, I by no means wish to give this abomination of a christian "church" more attention than it deserves.
**- In Buddhism, there are no sins, but there are differing degrees of skillfulness (or unskillfulness) in conduct (which is relativistic) which then always results into, or is resulting from, karma, which will ultimately determine if or how you will suffer. It's not about terms of satisfying some absolute moral imperative which puts you at the mercy of the favour (or disfavour) of some kind of anthropomorphic divine being, like in Western monotheistic religions.
*** - I use the term "cult leader" instead of "pastor", as he calls himself, because I chose not to insult any Christians of better discretion by endowing him with the latter mentioned title.