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Wandernder_Dichter
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Name: John Henry
Metro:
Interests: Fantasy, medievalism, literature, philosophy, theology, Europe, history, foreign languages, occultism, gaming...
Expertise: Reading, writing, (some) arithmatic, foreign languages, arguing, defending lost causes to the bitter end, watching Highlander, rolling dice...
Occupation: Student
Industry: Nonprofit
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
8/5/2005
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| My new website is up and running. If you want to keep reading about my miscellaneous adventures, I suggest you check out Tales of Maggie Dodge 5. Updates may be a trifle less regular than they were on here, but I still expect to put up enough nonsense to help everyone procrastinate to their heart's content. | | |
| Note: If this post seems a little rambling, bear with me. I've crossed an ocean today and switched from thinking mostly in German to thinking mostly in English. I think I deserve some special consideration.
Well, it's happened. The last member of CMRS Michaelmas 2005 has returned to the United States. The last assclown has returned; once more they are all gathered on one continent. Slight cracks are appearing in the fabric of reality like ripples spreading across a pool of water. In time, the universe will adjust, but for the present, expect sudden changes of locale and geography in your vicinity. Abrupt shifts in perception or paranormal disturbances are to be expected; Do Not Be Alarmed!
The flight went very smoothly. I noticed how strange I must have seemed, though. When I wasn't watching an inflight movie, I was reading about theological changes in medieval and 17th century theology. Specifically, I was doing my best to read Religion and the Decline of Magic from cover to cover. I got through the whole religion bit; now for the magic. Incidentally, the more I read it, the more I become convinced that the reformers were full of it and really wanted to be Catholic but didn't have the balls to admit it. That and they didn't like the idea of someone other than them being in charge. So, in closing, come back to Rome!!!
So I've come home. There were good times and there were bad times. I wouldn't trade my time abroad for anything. It's made me a better person. Perhaps I'm slightly more spiritual than I was when I left, perhaps I've grown a little wiser. I've met new people, many of whom I hope to see again. I've seen new and old sights, some of which I hope to return to see again some day. Finally - and what more could I really ask for? - I've learned a thing or two along the way, both about myself and about other more academic things. It's been a good year.
With my return home, the time has come to bid this blog a fond adieu. I'll leave it online, at least until I've backed it up on disk. I've spent more time than I ever thought I would on it, and judging by the comments, both online and personal, that I've received about it, I think that some people, at least, enjoyed reading it. That's all I can really ask for. I'm setting up a new blog for senior year. Perhaps I'll add a link to it here; perhaps I'll just email everyone I know the new link. It all depends on how I feel. If you need a little more John Adams in your life - and don't feel like opening a history book - well, you can always send me an email or check my new (or old) blog.
Adieu.
"Zum Augenblicke dürft ich sagen,
Verweile doch! Du bist so schön!"
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Faust, der Tragödie erster Teil
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| Well, it's done. My uncle has just come and picked up my luggage, my room is empty and I'm preparing for my last night in Heidelberg. The room looks much as it did on my first night, largely since all my stuff is no longer covering the walls. Tomorrow evening, I leave Heidelberg, all problems solved, all work completed.
It's funny. I've wanted to leave for some time now - doing three semesters abroad in one year seems, in retrospect, like not a particularly brilliant decision on my part - but now that the time has come, I feel slightly mournful. Partially, this is due to my deep-seated aversion to change. I like the effects of change - in this case, a return to the United States and to my family and friends - but I don't like change itself. Change is something that can go well or poorly and more often than not, although I initiate the change, I have no control over its consequences. For example, the flight I take on Saturday will probably return me to the United States, but there's always the off-hand possibility that it will never reach its destination. Perhaps the plane will explode on the runway. Perhaps the plane will be forced to make a crash landing in the middle of the ocean. Perhaps aliens will kidnap the entire plane for depraved experiments - such as an attempt to check how many consecutive viewings of the cartoon Lord of the Rings are necessary to drive the average human being insane. (I don't know about you guys, but that last one terrifies me the most.)
Thinking about this situation - namely myself getting nervous about a major change whilst longing for its consequences - has drawn my attention to a similar dilemma in religion. Theoretically, we should all be welcoming death. Catholic dogma states that after death there is a kind and loving God who will reward us for the good deeds we have done in this lifetime. Indeed, the only religions with a bleak view of what happens after death seem to have died out over the centuries. I wonder why...
But that's not the point here. The point here is that if my life was a novel, and I was a student analyzing it, I think there would be a lot of parallels between my (now very mild) anxieties about the flight and mankind's anxiety about death. I think it was Chuang Tzu who once compared life outside life to another country. We leave that country at birth and forget the way back. We develop a fear of our old homes and then, when we finally return (by dying), we realize how much we like it there.
Wow. So here I am, reinterpreting my life in terms of both Catholic doctrine and Daoism. Clearly I am thinking too much. But on the other hand, I feel that this is a good note for my blog to go out on - philosophical thinking.
This is the last post I shall be making in Europe. Fear not, I shall post one last time when I return to the States.
For administrative purposes - much the same way that Hogwarts keeps all their villains in one House - I am adding links below to my two other philosophical rants. (Although I might as well add a link for my entire blog; I seem to go off on philosophical tangents on a regular basis.)
There's Not Enough Happiness To Go Around.
On The Limits Of Rationality.
The beginning of my blog, if you really want to go through and check for more philosophical rambling... | | |
| I need to let off some steam. I have spent nearly the entire day inside, preparing myself for the trip across the big blue wet thing. I dearly want to cross over, but I need to get my affairs straightened out first. All my clothes are in the suitcase, though I may wind up having to take some out again to make room for more vital things. Additionally, I've culled the unworthy documents from all the papers I've accumulated over the course of this semester. I estimate at least two thirds of all the papers I collected this term are going into the recycling bin.
The weather is a sort of horrible overcast humidity; the sky is white with a faint blue tinge. It's just blue enough to make you feel like you should be outside and just white enough to blind you if you're foolish enough to look outside. Plus there were ominous rumblings as though a storm was about to break when I did go outside. This is perfect weather for making you feel like you should be indoors and outdoors at the same time.
I feel as though I'm under siege. The fact that at present, my financial reserves have been depleted to precisely 36 cents - and a 10 pence piece I found on my desk whilst cleaning - means that my food is limited to what I have in my cupboard and the refrigerator. (And even assuming I had money, the stores will all be closed on Sunday.) That comprises one onion, a bowlful of Spätzle (German egg noodles), several jars of spices, garlic, some butter, some oil, some rice and a frozen pizza. Tomorrow I get to try to create two coherent meals out of all this madness. It's looking like something involving refried rice/Spätzle with fried onion rings. (I reserve the pizza for dinner.)
So, yeah, it's hardly been the sort of day I relish. Tomorrow will involve me cleaning my room and both bathrooms, with possibly a quick cleaning fit in the kitchen as well. But oh, blessed Monday! I shall leave Heidelberg on Monday to spend four soothing days with my grandparents before I finally return to the States.
I expect to post again sometime on Sunday evening or perhaps even early Monday morning. Certainly this shall not be the last post written on this blog. | | |
| So, here it is, the long-awaited Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest review. At least, I'm going to pretend it was long-awaited. That'll make me feel important.
The movie definitely had its fair share of awesome. There were plenty of snappy one-liners (admittedly, some snappier than others) and the special effects were phenomenal. I couldn't figure out whether Davy Jones' face was CG or prosthetics. That's definitely a plus, especially considering how much stuff went into him. I mean, he uses his freaking beard as hands. That's impressive. Plus there were a lot of references to the first film, which is always nice.
And that's my cue to start criticizing. Some of those references were like getting hit over the head with a sledgehammer. Pardon me, but the point of a reference is that it be subtle. Yes, we all know that the keys in the Port Royale prison are held by a dog in the first movie. There is no need for anyone to say, "Now, where is that dog with the keys?" when trying to open the cell door.
It also seemed that the director wasn't sure whether he was doing a comedy, an action movie or a swashbuckling horror movie. There were numerous scenes when I sat there, laughing, and suddenly - and soberingly - wondered whether Dan Blair had directed the movie. Yes, the first one had its fair share of comedy. But some of this stuff was just too much. Had I been in charge, we probably would have completely lost the cannibal island. Just cut the whole bloody thing - it's funny, but that's all it really is. And some of the action sequences had to go. Too long. You know it's bad when I start wondering when a fencing scene is finally going to be over.
Additionally, the movie seemed ambivalent about Elizabeth as well. It was as though they really had no clue whether she was a damsel-in-distress type person - i.e. incapable of physical intervention - or a kickass tomboy. I'll accept either one; I prefer a woman with swords, but I'll take a damsel in distress if I must. Just pick one and stick with it!
Finally, the movie has plot holes. And I mean big plot holes. You could sail the Black Pearl through some of these babies. Hell, there are one or two where you could send the Black Pearl and the Flying Dutchman through, firing broadsides at one another along the way. Where the first movie was simple yet elegant, this movie is complex without logically following all those plot strands through. A pity; it might have worked otherwise.
On the plus side again, the movie certainly entertains. They fleshed out minor characters, so there's basically a whole secondary cast of people who we can have fun with. Gibbs in particular got expanded from the first film. I was very pleased with the last three minutes of the movie, even though the logical author in me was screaming at the screen that it was impossible. I'd say that sums up my take of the whole film - good entertainment, but you really need to park your brains under the seat for this one. (To be honest, I'm skeptical about whether it'll hold up for a second viewing the way the old one did.) I have grave doubts that the third movie can fix the problems developed in this one, but there's always hope. | | |
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