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September 29, 2003

alt.telemarketers.die.die.die

By now I'm sure you have heard that various telemarketer organizations are fighting the do-not-call list in court. No surprise there. But I was greatly relieved to see that, despite their efforts to stop the list, certain of the new policies outlined in the do-not-call legislation will be enforced by the FCC. Among the rules that will go into effect:

Telemarketers will not be allowed to charge customers' credit cards or other accounts without the customer's permission. --from a CNN story

I do hope that this sort of thing was illegal before the do-not-call list was created. But I guess you never know.

September 26, 2003

RIP, Edward Said

Edward Said is dead.

Said's work had a powerful impact on my academic life and my historical interests. I first read--and was completely captivated by--Said's classic work Orientalism while studying history in college; I followed it up with his Covering Islam and proceeded to reread each more than once. Said was a brilliant wordsmith with an amazing ability to both enlighten and entertain. He opened my eyes to the conflict and biases that dominated interaction between East and West, Empire and Orient. He almost single-handedly infused me with an interest in Near East history and is one of the reasons I pursued that line of study in college and graduate school.

It was several years before I thought to re-examine Said's work with a more critical eye, and by that time the seeds of doubt--sown by my reading of other scholarly works that seemed to contradict Said's persuasive theme--had been planted. Another reading of Orientalism and some of his other works followed, but this time it was not just his assertions and arguments that caught my attention. It was the way he sidestepped and skipped events and people that didn't support (or even seemed to contradict) his primary argument. It was the subtle implication, lurking behind his words and occasionally finding overt expression in them, that there was something sick and evil inherent in Western culture, and that this taint ran so deep that no Westerner would ever be able to rise above it or speak with real insight about the Middle East. It was the way he painted the entire history of the Middle East from the Ottoman Empire on as one of arrogant, incessant victimization by the West without even the remotest acknowledgment that the history of the region might have been influenced by other factors. I put down Orientalism this time realizing that I had been swept up by the passion of an ideological work, not a historical one.

There is a mentality alive today that believes that so long as the cause is just and the message worthwhile, then it's acceptable to ignore or rewrite the facts to fit the ideology. This view holds that it's more important to produce a compelling and persuasive argument for the right cause than it is to accurately depict the truth of a situation. This is to be expected (although not admired) in the field of politics and punditry, in the works of the Michael Moores and Ann Coulters of the world. But when the attitude crops up in the writing of history and the education of tomorrow's thinkers, something is wrong. I've read enough of Said's work to suspect that his conclusions were drawn long before he turned the first page of his pre-writing research; Orientalism and its ilk are perfect examples of scholarly works pursuing not the facts, but rather following a convoluted path that weaves in and out of the truth, determined to arrive at a preordained conclusion. Others have documented these problems better than I could (link stolen from Instapundit; it's just one of many out there).

I've never been able to get angry about Edward Said, even after my disillusionment with his work. I can only muster a sense of disappointment and sadness that his considerable talents, devoted to such a crucial and fascinating subject, went astray somewhere along the road, when he choose--perhaps without realizing it--that it was more important to trumpet the message eloquently than to verify its truth. His influence on today's scholars--particularly in the Middle East itself--is profound. Rest in peace, Mr. Said. Would that your skills had been devoted to a pursuit of truth and not ideology.

September 23, 2003

Linux feed readers?

Well, I've received complaints from an anonymous reader of my blog that I plugged a Windows-only headline reader a few days ago. Which does bring up a good point; I haven't been able to track down a good Linux feed reader that is easily installed and used. I've tried out AmphetaDesk but it didn't excite me too much. So if anyone can recommend a good Linux reader, let me know; as I'm in Linux most of the day, having a Linux reader would be nifty.

September 19, 2003

Avast, me hearties!

It be Talk Like a Pirate Day, and to celebrate, I be offerin' ye this piece o' piratey poetry I composed for yer readin' enjoyment:

There once was a pirate named Blackbeard Whose ship was too crowded, he feared. So his crew, big and small-- Well he keel-hauled them all And he stopped when the deck had been cleared!

Have ye any piratey poetry to contribute?

update: Gott in Himmel, you can even talk like a pirate in German.

update 2: Dang, somebody else beat me to it. That's some really funny stuff.

September 18, 2003

With apologies to my dispensationalist friends

My friend Steve had these bumper stickers printed up. He mailed me a few; I'm still working up the courage to actually put one on my car.

RSS Feed readin'

Today I installed and have been playing around with FeedDemon RSS reader, which is making my daily blog-reading routine much more efficient. Basically, it's a program that scans your favorite blogs and news sites and grabs the latest posts and headlines. Here's a screenshot of it working for me.

Thus far, I am quite impressed. I was able to figure out how to use it quickly, and it seems to do most of what you'd want it to. And it's even aesthetically pleasing. Thus far, the only problem is that I've only been able to find feeds for a few of your blogs (the Moveable Type ones, which have that handy "syndicate this site" link). Can the rest of you guys (and gals) pass me the URLs to syndicate your blogs, assuming you know them/have them set up?

Anyway, you should check this program out, if you aren't already using an RSS reader. It's pretty nifty.

September 17, 2003

The writing on the wall

My friend Raymond just placed not one, but two winning entries in a gaming fiction contest put on by Interplay. The stories, Moonlight and Mirror, are both excellent and placed at #2 and #4 respectively. I found the latter story, which takes an amusing look at the whole idea of fantasy, especially entertaining. Well done, Raymond! (And it looks like he got some cool prizes, too.)

Only M-perial stormtroopers could be so accurate

At last! Fellow Californian Mark has arrived on the scene with a blog, The M-Pire Strikes Back, that you should add to your daily blog-reading routine. His opening salvo is aimed in the general direction of that wacky recall business happening way out there in the Golden State. Good stuff!

September 16, 2003

By Jove, that's positively delightful!

I love goofy British slang, of the sort that can frequently be encountered in the context of low-budget PBS mysteries set in the early 20th century. In that vein, my mom recently sent along this classic quote from a Dorothy Sayers mystery:

"...and I said 'What-ho! that absolutely whangs the nail over the crumpet.' Because it struck me, really, as being the caterpillar's boots."

Now, I've heard of the "bee's knees," but this whole "caterpillar's boots" business is new to me. Beautiful.

Another one bites the dust

Jay has joined the wacky and wonderful world of blogging. Nicely done!

September 15, 2003

Back from Chicago

I'm back from the Chicago conference, which occupied much of last week and the weekend. The conference has weighed heavily enough on my mind lately that it'll be a bit before I'm up to posting anything resembling a worthwhile blog entry. In the meantime you're stuck with these oh-so-fascinating ramblings:

  • The Conference. This went fairly well, as far as conferences go. My usual dilemma at conferences is that I tend to be really, really terrible at "mingling," which is one of the major purposes of these conferences. Interacting in a crowd of people for more than about 30 minutes leaves me feeling something akin to exhaustion, like I need to go rest and recover for a few hours. (I'm reminded of a recent pcg post about introverts, to which I respond "tell it like it is, brother!") This fear-of-social-interaction thing usually begins to wear off by Day 2 or 3 of the conference--so right about when I'm starting to feel really comfortable with the idea of going up to people and introducing myself, the conference comes to an end. I guess I need to work on that, or something.

    Oh, and having Michele with me at the conference was very, very cool.

  • Fighting with Michele. No, not the why-didn't-you-take-out-the-trash-like-I-asked kind of fighting--this kind. We rented Soul Calibur II last night and had fun playing it. Michele had to stop after a while when the Gamecube controller caused a giant blister to form on her thumb. I think those years of playing Ikari Warriors (A,B,B,A!) and Tecmo Super Bowl on the original blocky NES controller (not exactly the most comfortable in the world) must have given me pretty substantial protective callouses on my thumbs. In time, I am confident that Michele's digits will undergo the reactive biological evolution necessary to protect them from the dreaded Gamer Thumb.

    Michele has also played way past me in Eternal Darkness--maybe she'll blog about that one sometime in the future.

  • Choosing a church home. We've been waffling a lot on picking a church to be our church home here in Grand Rapids. On the surface, the prospect of having hundreds of churches in the area from which to choose sounds pretty exciting--I mean, with all those choices, you're bound to find the perfect one, right? Well, maybe. The reality is that there's nothing quite so spiritually frustrating as finding yourself comparing-and-contrasting church 'features' as if you were shopping around for a refrigerator or something. Oooh, I just love the sermons at Church X, but they just don't do liturgy as well as Church Y. The music at Church Z is perfect, if only the font they used in the bulletin weren't so annoying. That sort of thing. Michele and I have sort of set a deadline for choosing a church home; I guess now is when we just make sure we're open for God to point us in the right direction.

I warned you this would be rambling and non-insightful.

(cue Emperor music)

Only now, at the end, do you understand.

September 9, 2003

It's crazy, but it just might work

To get political here for a bit, I've been quite interested by all the recent talk about Bush's "flypaper" strategy in Iraq--that is, the deliberate creation of a "terrorist magnet" in Iraq to which Islamic terrorists can be drawn and hopefully defeated. It's a sneaky and clever idea, and it's based on the fundamental strategic principle of forcing your enemy to fight you on your own terms--instead of waiting to respond to the next terrorist bombing in a city or pizza parlor, you goad them into attacking a target (in this case, the American military itself) that can hit back effectively.

There are a lot of people talking about the flypaper strategy, speculating on its positive and negative aspects. I thought that Andrew Sullivan's comments were particularly interesting, highlighting as they do the strategy's goals while pointing out the risk involved. This statement in particular caught my attention:

The extra beauty of this strategy is that it creates a target for Islamist terrorists that is not Israel. A key objective of the current U.S. strategy is to show that Israel is not the fundamental cause of instability and mayhem in the Middle East--but a victim of the same kind of pathological religious extremism that has destroyed Iran, brutalized Afghanistan and blackmailed Saudi Arabia. Before the Iraq war, the U.S. could do little to counter these maniacs directly. Now they have a theater of war--and it isn't the West Bank.

I wonder if the primary audience for this drama, then, is the "Arab street," average citizens living under repressive regimes who have been raised to see Israel not only as the cause of the Palestinian crisis, but as the sole reason for virtually the entire Middle East's post-WW2 descent into intellectual and cultural poverty? As Iraq begins to resemble a healthy, free-thinking society, it will by definition become the target of Islamist terror attacks. The better things go for Iraqis (education, free elections, representative government, freedom), the clearer it's going to become that al-Qaeda and other terrorist groups (now launching attacks at Arab leaders and Iraqi-built infrastructure, not just at Americans) are not fighting a holy war against corrupt Western imperialism. They are fighting a war against many of the basic pillars of enlightened, free society.

If things go well for Iraqis in coming months and years, the terrorists will find themselves fighting to make things worse again for Iraq--after all, blowing up water treatment plants hurts Iraqis a lot worse than it hurts Americans. But now, the enemies aren't the hated Israelis--they're everyday Iraqis who are just trying to improve the state of their country. If the terrorist worldview identifies Iraqi civil workers (and the US/UN forces working with them to improve Iraqi infrastructure) as the enemy, is it a worldview worth buying into? This might prompt some to make the realization that a) repression, poverty, and tyranny do not need to be the default state of an Arab nation, and b) the blame for the Middle East's 50-year-old problems can't be pinned solely on an outside entity like Israel or the U.S. The Middle East's most persistent problems spring largely from unhealthy ideas, regimes, and movements allowed to thrive within the Arab world itself.

The mind reels at the implications of such a plan--of goading terrorists into hitting the most defensible target; of putting the lie to the idea that terrorists have the Middle East's best interests at heart or that their solutions--"destroy!"--will solve anything. I'm not entirely certain what I think of all this. If this is what Bush is aiming at, I'm really, really impressed--and I really, really hope that it works. It's about time that something changed for the better in the Middle East. Maybe this will be the catalyst.

September 7, 2003

Birthdays and Old Ones and Orcs, oh my!

It's been another good weekend, and I just know you want to hear all about it, so without further ado:

Friday was the day we decided to celebrate Michele's birthday, since I'll be away at a conference this week when her actual birthday takes place. Much fun was had by all, and I ate a shockingly large amount of Chinese food at the restaurant to which we went to celebrate. Yay for birthdays!

We also watched the "making of Return of the King" featurette on the Two Towers DVD, which was excellent. When the ten-minute "making of" video has enough emotional punch to bring me nearly to tears, I know I'm in for a good film...

On Saturday, after taking care of the usual Saturday mundane household chores, we played a game of Call of Cthulhu (the d20 version), which was extremely fun. One thing we did differently this time was to experiment quite a bit with props and lighting to enhance the game's spookiness factor. Since the adventure had a fairly archaeological focus, Michele and I gathered up a variety of archaeology tomes and pieces of equipment from around the apartment (including a genuine full-size archaeology shovel) and placed them around the room; at M's suggestion, I used a wall of intimidating tomes as a DM's screen instead of the usual cardboard screen. We also played around with lighting a bit--at one point, as the players explored a pitch-black underground tunnel, we turned off the lights and played by candlelight to simulate the poor, flickering lighting of the character's lanterns. It was good fun, and helped a good bit with the immersion factor--an important consideration in a game like CoC where not being in the proper mood can really hurt the adventure.

Oh, and nobody's character went completely insane this time around. Weird!

Sunday, which is technically still underway at the time of this writing, has been as relaxing as a good Sunday ought to be. I spent most of the afternoon painting Lord of the Rings orc miniatures. That is, I painted patches of suitably sickly-green colored skin onto eight orc figures; I'll give 'em a few hours to dry before starting in on painting their armor and weaponry. You would be surprised how relaxing it can be to sit down at a table for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon and go crazy with paints and brushes. I figure these guys'll make perfect props for roleplaying games once I get them finished up. Painting them has also given me a chance to ask some of those troubling questions that Tolkien mysteriously left unanswered, such as "what color is an orc's butt?" (The answer is "green," if you must know.)

Hope your weekend was as enjoyable. Enjoy the precious few hours of freedom left to you before Monday morning arrives!

September 4, 2003

Short stories: some ruminations

Almost since I first learned to read, short stories have held a special place in my heart. Like anyone else, I've always loved a good novel, and there's no experience quite so sublime as allowing oneself to slip entirely out of mundane reality and into the imaginary vistas crafted by a skilled writer. Nevertheless, a good short story stands in my mind as a piece of art quite separate than, and in some ways superior to, a good novel.

Short stories seem to impose much harsher restrictions on their writers than do longer-length works; a good short story must evoke an emotional or intellectual response from the reader but must do it with far fewer words than a novel. As anyone who has ever tried their hand at short-story writing will attest, it is often much more difficult to be succinct than it is to be verbose. Knowing how difficult it can be to pack a truly emotional punch into the length limitations of a short story, I've always been particularly impressed when I've come across short stories that manage to do so; some of my favorite short stories are the ones that have crept up on me, catching me unawares with an unforseen ending, a shocking twist, an amusing insight, or a beautiful description.

Short stories also have the advantage of being an art form that anyone can at least attempt; they don't require the sheer time commitment of a longer work of literature, and it's not too difficult to put something onto paper in story form. The trick, of course, is to craft a story that jumps out of the pages and leaves a permanent impression on the reader's mind. I've read many such stories over the years, as you no doubt have done; here are a few of the stories that impacted me so profoundly that even now, years after I've read them, I can vividly recall words, passages, and characters that left my mind stunned or in awe.

In no particular order, then, here is a meager sampling of my favorite short stories--the ones I still lovingly turn to many years after I first read them. I'd love to hear about your favorites.

  • "The Library of Babel" by Jorge Luis Borges
    A truly mind-boggling story and one of my all-time favorites. A fanciful look at the universe through the metaphor of a great library, its influence on The Name of the Rose is obvious. While this story has little in the way of traditional plot, being more of a descriptive essay, it nevertheless caught my imagination and hasn't yet let go. One of the most intriguing stories I've ever read; if you can track this one down (it can probably be found in an anthology of Borges fiction), I can't recommend it highly enough.
  • "Young Goodman Brown" by Nathaniel Hawthorne
    You probably read this one in high school English class. I don't remember too many of my classmates being particularly struck by it, but I couldn't get this one out of my mind. The nightmare that the title character must live with--the fear that maybe he doesn't know who his loved ones and friends really are--filled even my tender young mind with a sort of thrilling horror. Hawthorne wrote a lot of wonderful stuff, but this story has always seemed to trumpet his message most effectively.
  • "Death Ship" by Richard Matheson
    A Twilight Zone-ish science fiction short story written by one of the early masters of the genre (the story was actually converted into an episode of The Twilight Zone, although it was mangled beyond recognition in the transition from short story to film), this one still gives me the chills just thinking about it. It hits the reader with a surprise ending that caught me, at least, completely off-guard; in fact, the significance of the main characters' fate didn't really sink in until a second reading. A great twisted-ending tale, the sort you really ought to read on a cold winter night, bundled up in blankets near a fireplace with a nice mug of hot chocolate nearby.
  • "The Cask of Amontillado" by E.A. Poe
    Another one of those stories you probably read in junior high or high school literature, but nevertheless another one of my favorites. It's short and sweet: every sentence, every word seems to have been lovingly crafted by Poe for maximum effect; there's not a single syllable that doesn't work. In just a handful of pages, Poe takes you along with the protagonist on an emotional journey from righteous anger to cold-blooded vengeance to horrified realization (well, the protagonist never really reaches that final stage, but the reader sure does). You know a story has real power when its finale remains chillingly creepy despite having become something of a cliché over the years.
  • "The Shadow Over Innsmouth" by H.P. Lovecraft
    This isn't Lovecraft's most famous story--in fact it is fairly long, probably somewhere between "short story" and "novella"--but it was one of my first exposures to his bizarre imagination, and I absolutely loved it. A great investigative story from start to finish, complete with horrifying secrets, hideous creatures from Beyond, and the creepy and satisfying sort of ending one comes to expect from Lovecraft stories. Many people recommend "The Call of Cthulhu" as the quintessential Lovecraft story, but I personally think this one is better.
  • "You Know They Got a Hell of a Band" by Stephen King
    Probably not the story most Stephen King fans would recommend as the one to start out with, but I've always liked this one. It manages to condense almost every Stephen King-ism there is into one entertaining story--you've got your classic rock-n-roll and pop culture references, your lost tourists in the middle of nowhere, and your hellish damnation visited upon the unwary. What's not to like? There are actually quite a few King stories I might put on this list; others might be the liked-by-only-me-as-far-as-I-can-tell "Night Shift," the Lovecraftian "Jerusalem's Lot," "The Long Walk," and "The Langoliers" (OK, so those last two are technically novellas).
  • "The Monkey's Paw" by W.W. Jacobs
    Don't tell me this wasn't in your high school literature book! The ultimate be-careful-what-you-wish for story; it gives me the willies just thinking about it. I pretty much laid awake nights wondering fearfully what would they have seen if they had opened the door?

So many stories, so little time! These are just a faint sampling of the short stories I've read and loved over the years. If you haven't read any of these, I highly recommend tracking them down at the library (or asking me for a copy to borrow). Happy reading!

September 3, 2003

Just think of the legal implications...

Just when you think the world can't possibly get any more stupid, somebody comes along and proves that yes, actually, it can.

September 2, 2003

Just checking in

The Rau homestead was blessed with a particularly enjoyable holiday weekend--lots of food, friends, and R&R. Gaming on Friday went well; the Saturday trip to Saugatuck was accompanied by some absolutely gorgeous weather; and the weekend's remaining days involved a lot of fun visiting with friends. Michele and I were privileged to make the acquaintance of Toshiro, who turned out to be a lot less ornery than certain pictures would seem to indicate.

Among other things, my friend Jay is now officially a pastor at Boston Square Christian Reformed Church in Grand Rapids. It's certainly been exciting to watch him move along the path to ministry, and I am sure he will do quite well in this new role. Well done, Jay, and best of luck!

The next week or two is going to be somewhat busy, what with the upcoming annual conference put on by my place of employment. Michele and I did manage to fit in a short D&D game this evening--friend Heather ran Death in Freeport for us--and there are even rumors of a Call of Cthulhu game run by me happening this weekend. Fun.

And last but most certainly not least, we're gearing up for Michele's birthday next week. Come the 10th, be sure to wish her a happy birthday. I'd tell you how old she will be, but that's probably one of those taboo topics best left unspecified.