So I've got this crazy idea. I have 3 papers (which I know isn't enough) all around the same theme--composing, contemplation, and how it relates to the aesthetic experience. What about using them as the start of a book? I have no idea who'd touch them, not falling squarely in any one discipline, and I fall into the Boretz/Randall/Rahn/Barkin camp of music theory, which has always been counter-cultural. Am I nuts that someone, somewhere would want to read it, much less publish it?

As a composer and as one who aspires to live according to the Rule of St. Benedict, it's frustrating to read book after book about things relating to composition that's only the surface. What I love about their theory is that there's so much more to it than formalism. So here's what's going to be the preface. Not done yet, though.

***

Suscipe me secundum eloquium tuum, et vivam. Et non confundas me ab exspectatione mea.

As I stood in the foyer of the guest area of the Trappist monastery (inside being preferable to the Iowa winter), I had to wonder what I'd gotten myself into. At the time I was far from an observant Catholic--my honors class during my first year of college was studying the Rule of St. Benedict as a type of community, the capstone involving two days at New Melleray Abbey. Instead of being presented as a living tradition the way the monks--and countless others--lived it, the Rule was taught in the class as some medieval relic. I anticipated hating the entire two days, but was shocked to hear that faint whisper spoken of every day during Matins: "Hodie, si vocem ejus audieritis, nolite obdurare corda vestra." The monks' way of life was strange, yet there was some part of it that felt completely natural.

Four years later, I got off the plane at LAX, stumbled off the shuttle in Burbank, and after an hour's ride found myself at another enclosure, that of the California Institute of the Arts in Valencia, again wondering what I'd gotten myself into. Beyond my wildest hopes, I'd been accepted for my Master's in composition, never dreaming that people who wrote music actually existed, much less that I'd have the opportunity to become one of them.

Finally several years later, the symbolism of the warrant from my doctoral exams (ink barely dry) wasn't lost: instead of my signing my profession document, the community I hoped to join signed it. In a sense, it was their promise to support me in my vocation, as the whole process was my promise to endure in it. Feeling as if I'd come out from under a pall, I began my novitiate.

One before bed...

So I was sitting here, worrying about next year (I may not have financial aid because the financial aid department here likes to "lose" my Master's, among other problems I've been having with them), worrying about finding a job once I'm done with this degree, worrying about whether or not I'll be able to finish, and a host of other worries.

I don't know why, since I generally like my evenings quiet, but I put on an internet contemporary classical radio station. The piece that was playing was a recording of a piece a former composition teacher had conducted, Louis Andriessen's De Staat.

Now I'm sure you can ascribe this to coincidence. The guy conducted just about every contemporary classical composer out there, especially the avant-garde. He'd also conducted just about every work Andriessen had written, when Lucky was still conducting. Plus the station is based out of San Francisco, and Lucky had been music director/conductor for a chamber group in the area for years.

But...that doesn't describe the feeling I got when I heard the piece and realized instantly whose recording it was. It's got to be similar to the feeling one gets, when a rose appears after the novena to St. Therese. All I know for certain is I'm feeling oddly hopeful for next year.

Well poo. So I had a nifty idea to link the individual pieces of my dissertation to the mysteries they represent by using snippets of chants corresponding to the feasts in the liturgy. I'm currently on the Crucifixion (sketched out on Good Friday, didn't get a chance to start putting notes down--or lines of LISP code down--until now, though.) I'm bouncing around a bit in the ordering. This one's also a mini-setting of the seven last words. I'm not sure how much of it will be audible to the listener without program notes.

Somehow I got the chorus for the Improperia stuck in my head. It's one of the few instances of Greek left in the liturgy, and it's some pretty music. Unfortunately the whole thing has been used to justify anti-semitism. There's also no beating around the bush on the matter--the lyrics are pretty nasty.

But I've been raised with the notion that the anti-semitism of years past is part of the collective guilt associated with Good Friday and the reading of the passion narrative on Palm Sunday. It's a time to own up to and take responsibility for the crap one's done during the year. In a sense, we've all crucified Christ, where Christ is present in the pogroms, Sudan, Darfur, Iraq, Bosnia, and so on.

However, this may not be readily apparent in the music. This is also for my dissertation, and I'd like to avoid controversy as much as possible, since one's dissertation defense isn't the time or place for really controversial stuff. But...art is by nature controversial (although I don't know if I'd call what I do art.) It's also part of political and social action, whether you want it to or not. The very fact that I'm doing a set of 15 pieces on the mysteries of the rosary is controversial and very much a political statement. Art should challenge and provoke. I've seen plenty of art I'm offended by, but I strongly defend the artist's right to make it. I'm sure someone will be offended by the pieces I'm writing.

On the one hand, this nastiness is a part of my religion. We've done some horrible things to people; and people still do horrible things to people in the name of religion. There's something redemptive in taking something associated with nastiness and making it into something that (hopefully) transcends it. But...on the other hand, there's also the social responsibility for not being an asshole and being sensitive to the thoughts and feelings of others.

Or compromise: take the part of it I really like (the response) and not use the rest. It's the verses that are the nasty bits...ETA: I wouldn't be using any of the text, just the music.

If you don't already read Rev. Mommy's blog, you should. She's got a murder mystery up that's really good.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

An inner dialogue

An inner dialogue...
or:
A day in the life of an ABD grad student.

Dramatis personae:


Me: Your brave blogger

Myself: Another facet of Yours Truly.


Setting: Before an LCD monitor, enlightenment desktop shell, linux OS. There is a lisp compiler open and an empty text editor (vim, of course.)


Me: OK, self! Time to get busy! Tuesdays and Thursdays are your dissertation-writing days!

Myself: Aw...do we have to? There's a new Pendragon patch you could be testing!

Me: now, now. Work now, play later.

Myself: But...the sun...there's sun in Seattle. And puffy clouds. And warm weather. You don't want to waste the nice weather, do you?

Me: Work now, play later. If you're good, you can go get a bubble tea after you get some work done.

Myself: But...But you just finished a piece! And you got back from the conference--

Me: --A week ago!

Myself: Could have residual jetlag.

Me: ...

Myself: Hey, look! Your lisp implementation needs a license upgrade! That'll take awhile.

Me: More like five seconds with broadband.

Myself: But, wait! If you're stuck inside, you could knit, instead! You knit while you wait for things to compile, correct?

Me: Of course. Not much else to do.

Myself: Well, then. Why don't you knit now?

[the sound of realplayer and EWTN starts up]

Myself: AAAAAAUGH! NOOOOO NOT EWTN LIVE!!!

Me: Are you going to get busy, or do I have to keep this on longer?

Myself: NOOOOOO IT BURNS US!!! Oh wait. Hey this is kind of interesting...

Me: Don't make me put on "The 700 Club."

Myself: IT HURTS! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!

Me: Are you going to actually work, or do I have to keep Pat Robertson on?

Myself: So. Percussion sounds for this one?

Apologies if it's Yet Another Post about what happened at VA Tech.

I can't fathom what would drive a person to do this. I'm sitting here, stunned, watching the footage on TV from the attack. Lord knows people in my department have annoyed and frustrated me, but no matter how angry they'd make me, I couldn't kill them. Disgruntled graduate student? Frustrated TA? Domestic violence? That classroom could've been any classroom. What if it happened here? How would I react? Would those I care about be safe?

The priests at my parish have an eerie habit of saying things that seem to be exactly the right thing at the right time. In the homily yesterday, the priest mentioned that there's no person not worthy of Divine Mercy and forgiveness. May not be much, but it's something I'm holding onto tonight.

Language of prayer

I like aesthetics. I like poetry. I like them both in prayer. I also like inclusive language, although a lot of attempts in liturgy leave me cold. That having been said, Talmida's got an interesting post up about the new translation of the Nicene Creed over at The Lesser of Two Weevils.

The good: I like that it now says "for us and for our salvation." The original is "qui nos homines," so that fits. There's some debate over on her blog about the part about Jesus becoming man...I don't mind this as much because, well, he was a guy, although the Latin is more specific: "Et homo factus est," "And was made human." It's a subtle difference that I wonder isn't being lost in the politics surrounding inclusive language. (I wonder if the retention of "man" is a nose-thumbing at the other side.)

But some of the comments mention praying to God as "Our Mother." I've never seen an example of it that I feel comfortable with. Like Talmida pointed out, we were taught to pray "Our Father." Praying with different words isn't bad, it's different words. But that's not why I'm uncomfortable with it.

Sure, you could chalk up my balking to being under the thumb of the patriarchy, but I wonder if such addenda are another example of our fingerprint on prayer or worship. I'm uncomfortable with such things because it's only substituting one gender for another--it's as uncomfortable to me as saying "For us men and for our salvation." Prayer and liturgy shouldn't be all about us. If anything, they should transcend us. I worry that such corrections are no better than that which they're meant to replace.

Fair warning. There may be spoilers in this one. So it's no secret I'm a "Doctor Who" fan. I've watched the show ever since I could remember. The first episode I saw was "The Seeds of Doom," and it scared the living hell out of me. I was hooked ever since. (This was back when the Chicago PBS station, WTTW, played them in the afternoon...at least I think it was the afternoon.) I have just about every episode that's been broadcast--including "Shada"--except for some of the William Hartnell and Patrick Troughton episodes.

So I'm also a fan of the Daily Breakfast podcast. The guy who does it is a priest, who's a total geek. Fr. Roederick has been discussing "Doctor Who" lately. (He's also a fan.) So some guy came on, giving feedback about how horrible the new seasons are. First off, Captain Jack isn't all that important to the series. Second of all, he complains about how there's no organization in the universe--there never was in the Doctor Who universe--and that there's no spiritual side (I guess he missed the episode in last year's series, where the Doctor defeats Satan.)

But I'm so fed up with fanatics thinking that the only social issues that matter are homosexuality and abortion. If the guy who gave feedback on "Daily Breakfast" thought the entire first series was about "perversion," then he missed the point. Jack does kiss the Doctor, but he also kisses Rose--that's during the episode where they thought they were going to die. There wasn't anything sexual about it. If anything, I thought it was a beautiful scene. The first series (season 27 to the old fans) is really all about redemption and reconciliation. See also: "Planet of the Spiders," where the 3rd Doctor regenerates into the 4th Doctor. The guy giving feedback also says that the Doctor genocided his own people. That line was given in the same episode as "The Satan Pit," by an alien thought of to be Satan, aka "The father of all liars." The creature lied about Rose in the same episode. Why is anything else it said true? Or true in a way that doesn't twist what really happened? All we have is a PTSD-suffering alien's take on it and an evil being's. Neither are reliable informants about the Time War.

But it's just one guy's opinion from Oklahoma. His voice isn't that of other Catholics in the US. Frankly I think the Doctor does a good job of working according to Catholic social teaching. For the sake of argument, I'm using this from the USCCB, the seven key themes of Catholic social teaching.

1.) Life and dignity of the human person. And alien for the Doctor. When has this (from the USCCB) not been true? "We believe that every person is precious, that people are more important than things, and that the measure of every institution is whether it threatens or enhances the life and dignity of the human person." That's been the show's refrain since it started. Like in last night's episode with the Doctor's interaction with the mentally ill people in the hospital. And if "New Earth" didn't echo this theme, I don't know what does.

2.) Call to Family, Community, and Participation. Families don't come in very often. We know the Doctor's had a granddaughter, so he's had a family in some part of his life. He's often remarked in the past two seasons how special it is that Rose had a family and an ordinary life. Or in "The Runaway Bride," he offered the Arachnos empress every chance to go away, and he even offered to help her and her brood find a planet where they could live in peace.

3.) Rights and Responsibilities. Society can only be healthy when all rights are respected. I don't think this has ever not been a theme of "Doctor Who." I can't count the number of episodes in which he's fought against some dictator. Duty to society? Sure, the Doctor's not overly fond of small-scale responsibility, but given the number of times he's saved Earth and/or the universe, I think we can safely say he's got some responsibility to society.

4.) Option for the Poor and Vulnerable Again, when has this not been the case for the Doctor? I can't think of an episode where he didn't protect the poor and vulnerable.

5.) The Dignity of Work and the Rights of Workers Fair labor doesn't come up much, but there have been episodes dealing with slavery and forced labor. ("Impossible Planet," "Destiny of the Daleks")

6.) Solidarity Oh yeah like the theme that we're all one race under God's creation doesn't come up. That is, that we're worthy of respect regardless of race, nationality, religion, economic status, or species.

7.) Care for God’s Creation There's been a lot of shows with environmental themes. "Sea Devils," most notably.

End of rant. Go watch "Doctor Who."

Conference went. Don't think I'll go to it next year. They had me on a panel of all military games, with the bulk of the audience coming in during the middle of my presentation. Yeah nothing says "I'm interested in what you do" more than that. The person who was chairing it--who had the weakest paper of the bunch--had these cutesy signs she'd hold up to call time. Call me crazy but I'm used to a discrete note, rather than something out of Sesame Street. Ah well. It's over, I'm back to composer-mode, and I think I'm going to look into music-specific conferences next time. And it's another line on the CV.

Have a blessed Easter and/or Passover, if I'm not posting between now and then!

Sorry for the brief notes. I'll try to post something of substance once life settles down a bit.

1.) Rate Your Students shutting down. I have mixed feelings about this. Since I do tech support I see the seedy underbelly of just how horrible college students can be. Then again I've been treated horribly by a very, very few faculty, as well. I think there's plenty of ill will and malice on both sides. Do I think that college students should be more with it and less consumer minded? Sure. But I wonder what kind of example blogs like that are, to begin with.

I'm sure it wouldn't be difficult to figure out who I am. I think my real name is attached to my email, anyway. However, I don't write anything here I wouldn't want my grandmother reading, and that also goes for future academic employers. I have nothing to hide. If they're going to discriminate against me because I'm a Catholic gamer-geek, who likes to opine on video games and meatless lunch ideas, then they aren't worth working for. Ditto for any dean who'd order me to take this site down.

2.) Chocolate Jesus. I don't see the offense. Chocolate? Catholics shouldn't be offended at the association of Christ with food. We do it every day. Maybe it's a commentary on the consumerism edging into religion. Naked Jesus? Not like every other man on the planet doesn't have the same parts. If Jesus were truly human and truly divine, I don't see what the big deal is. Nor do I understand why the male nude form is always a sex object or something "dirty." Hello, sexist? If anything, I think it would be a good reminder of the humiliation He faced, as well as a poignant reminder of His humanity. I sincerely doubt the Romans were concerned for the modesty of those condemned. Plus, there have been anatomically correct statues for thousands of years. There's nothing shameful about the human figure. Naked is not always sexual. If anything, it's less sexual, since I seem to recall a study that humans are more aroused by what isn't seen than what is.

If you'll pardon the vulgarity, Bill Donohue needs a warm cup of STFU. I resent that he thinks he speaks for all Catholics, and I doubly resent his and Cardinal Egan's philistine understanding of art.