1.) Sorry I've been so quiet on this front. I'm still waiting to hear about next year's financial aid. If you've been following along, they've been insisting that I don't have a Master's and canceling all aid. They've done this four times, and counting. Supposedly my aid for next year is being "worked on" and they require more information from me. I called to see what this might be, and was brushed off, saying I need to wait for the award letter. I asked to speak with someone higher up, and was hung up on. This is the kind of crap I've been dealing with since last April. (Yes, I was polite.)

My department can't really do anything--they're beholden to financial aid. If financial aid says I qualify, they pay up. The graduate school said they'd take care of it the last time I had issues with them, and it was fixed that day. (Due to financial aid not believing I had a Master's, even documented with an official transcript (signed, sealed) from my alma mater, which I was told by the financial aid counselor was "not acceptable.")

You know, I could understand if I were forced out of my program due to academics. But this? Pure incompetence. Especially the fact that there's a problem, but they won't tell me what it is. Nor can I find out if I'm able to finish out my degree--since I've only got a year to go. (And I don't have $9K + fees lying around for tuition. If I did, I probably wouldn't bother with financial aid in the first place.)

This whole situation isn't the greatest for productivity on one's dissertation, either, where one's dissertation is a set of fifteen pieces. It's hard to be creative and productive, when you don't know if you'll be able to attend the next quarter.

2.) I come home today, and a neighbor is going through other people's mail. Got a complaint in to the landlord, since messing with other people's mail is a federal offense.

3.) I go to do laundry. Laundry room is filled with wet, stinky piles of laundry. All machines are filled with equally stinky laundry. Mold allergies going crazy. So I'll probably have to head to the laundromat. Luckily, it has free wifi.

I'll be OK. Just a bunch of annoyances making a nice little annoyance logjam. That and the summer is looming. I've never had a good summer, either.

I'm starting to think the blogosphere is off its meds. Either that, or it's spring, pheromones are raging, and people are becoming more primate in anticipation of the summer. I've seen two people get slammed by the Catholic Moral Majority--generally twentysomethings--because the blogger dared to contradict what they think the Church is.

I'm not tolerating such behavior here. I've had anonymous commenting turned off for awhile. If you're going to say something, you have to own up for it. Also, this is not a democracy. This is my personal sandbox, and if you're going to pee in it, you get kicked out. Discussion of ideas is allowed and encouraged. Ranting your personal flavor of "orthodoxy" is not.

It's easy for people to behave online in ways they never would in a face-to-face encounter. There's no accountability, and really if you slam some faceless blog, there's no direct consequence of your action. But for every person someone disses, there's a face behind the computer screen. I'm thinking of Antony's blog. I loved it. By necessity I'm isolated from other oblates, so to connect with a like-minded individual was a wonderful experience.

I'm not letting the bullies drive me away. I moderate a few livejournal communities, and I have no qualms about deleting comments. You can call me anything you want. I'm not going anywhere. And I'm every bit as much a part of the Church as you are.

CFOYC, part 3, salvation, other religions, and getting along with the natives

If there's something that the non-Catholics are wondering about Catholics, but are afraid to ask, fire away, with the caveats on topics from last time. If I don't know, there are a bunch of people reading this who would.

Meh. I had a nicely glib and upbeat version of this one started. The Catholic notion of salvation is one of the big reasons why I'm a practicing Catholic. I read Nostra aetate in college, anticipating hating it, since I grew up with the pre-Vatican II version of relations with other denominations. What's in it is truly Good News--salvation is something that's revealed through truths in many other religions and denominations. And those who through no fault of their own who aren't even Christian can be saved through the justification of grace (which is a free gift from God), and a desire to lead a moral life, free from sin. The real documents of Vatican II--as opposed to things in the spirit of--are truly wonderful and upbeat. The optimism and hope in them is one of the most uplifting things I've ever experienced.

Obviously I believe the RCC is true. If I didn't, I wouldn't be Catholic. For me, it represents the fullness of Truth, insofar as we're able to perceive it in this life. Other people find their Truth with a capital "t" in other places. If my path is true for me, and yours is true for you, maybe we're seeing little pieces of something bigger than either of us. I like the fact that Catholic theology allows for this, and at the heart of the matter, salvation and who God decides to give that grace to is a complete gift and mystery. Asking a Catholic if they're saved will probably get you a puzzled look in response. The right answer is, "I don't know!" or "God only knows." There's no positive assurance, but there's hope in God's limitless mercy. This is stuff that keeps me coming back, Sunday after Sunday through all the bullcrap people like to sling at each other in the name of orthodoxy.

So why am I emo tonight? Fast forward to present day. In this country, we've got two sides, both becoming more and more entrenched. On one side, we've got fundamentalist evangelicals--the "Jesus Camp" types--who believe they're right, come hell or high water, and all must accept their take on Christianity to be saved. On the other side, you've got the EWTN types, who I think are a direct response to the fundamentalist Protestant hegemony. Their response to the fundamentalist Protestants is to become more Catholic than Rome. Or, rather, to foist their view of Catholicism upon the rest of us. And since they've got money and mass media outlets, they become the status quo. (Watch their daily Mass sometime...the message they're portraying is slick.)

Thing is, if all of Christianity suddenly became non-denominational Protestant megachurch or Catholic, I think the world would be a poorer place. You wouldn't have the Orthodox, with their ornate liturgies and icons. You wouldn't have the Lutherans' four-part hymns and middle-America sensibility. Forget the Methodists' social justice and quasi-Anglican ways. And even though evangelicals can piss me off, Christianity would be missing something if they were gone.

The RCC has always been about unity in diversity. I wonder if Christianity as a whole can learn from this, instead of the zero-sum game it seems so hell bent on playing.

CFoYC, part 2, the sacraments

So as mentioned in the comments on the last one, there's a wide variation of what's done on Fridays during the year and during Lent. Consult your local bishop for details, since it seems to go by bishop and by country. We're required to abstain on Fridays during the year and Lent. We're also encouraged to fast on Fridays during Lent (but not required.) Also N.B., I'm not discussing sex, homosexuality, abortion, or birth control here. They've been talked to death; they always lead to arguments; and they're not very interesting.

Welcome back to "Care and Feeding of Your Catholic!" This installment is a whirlwind tour through life as a Catholic: the sacraments, or how to get hatched, matched, and dispatched.

1.) A sacrament is an outward sign of an inner grace given by Christ for our salvation. We've got seven: baptism, reconciliation, communion, confirmation, marriage, holy orders, and the anointing of the sick. Your Catholic will most probably have received four of them, possibly five.

2.) Baptism: this is how a Catholic enters the Church. Generally this is done shortly after birth, and it's necessary for all other sacraments. It's also to free the person from sin. It's also a promise from the community to support the person in their faith. Some parishes are doing baptisms during Masses, others do them at special Masses. For the most part, the "ordinary" ministers of baptism are priests and bishops, although in a pinch anyone can, so long as he/she has the right intentions and baptizes the person using the Trinitarian formula. (I was baptized immediately after birth, for instance, by a nurse in the hospital.)

3.) There's also a baptism of desire--a person wishes to be baptized, but dies before it happens, or a baptism of blood--namely martyrdom. It's preferable to enroll someone in RCIA, rather than killing them.

4.) Reconciliation: (used to be called confession when I was in CCD) confession of sins. It doesn't take away the effects of it, but is to help lessen the consequence. Catholics are required to confess all mortal sins once a year at the bare minimum. If you have to think about whether or not you committed a mortal sin, you probably didn't--they take full participation and knowledge.

5.) Catholics have the option of either private (in the booth thingy) or face-to-face. Personally I'm claustrophobic. I like telling people I've never been in a confessional in my life. The priest is also commanded (under pain of instant excommunication) to never divulge that which is told to him in a confession. It's really not as scary as you might think. I've never been berated or made fun of. At the time, I've always heard what I've needed to hear.

6.) The Eucharist. (This is a biggie and will get its own.)

7.) Most Latin-rite Catholics receive the first three sacraments by the time they're 7 years old. If they're Byzantine or come from an Orthodox church, odds are they were baptized, confirmed, and received the Eucharist all at once as an infant. In the Roman rite, babies are anointed after baptism with chrism--the oil also used in confirmation.

8.) Confirmation: this is a fulfillment of one's baptismal promises and a maturation of one's faith. It's always done by the bishop, unless permission is given to a priest. Priests almost always do confirmations on the Easter vigil. Chrism--one of the oils is used. This one is easy to tell apart from the other two, since it smells like balsam. (You have to look closely to tell apart the oil of the infirm and oil of the catechumenate, and hope you grabbed the right jar.) It's becoming rarer, but most Catholics would take another name at their confirmation, some saint they admired or wanted to emulate. (Mine's Hildegard.) Generally a person is confirmed at 11-18. It all depends on when your bishop says people should be confirmed. Confirmation always happens in the context of a Mass.

9.) The sacraments are reversed if one is coming into the Church as an adult: people will be baptized first, then confirmed, then given their first Eucharist, the way it's done in Eastern churches.

10.) Marriage: gettin' hitched. Like all other sacraments, it has an ordinary minister--the couple themselves. The priest and others are just witnesses to the vows. There isn't an extra-ordinary minister. That would be too kinky. Marriage almost always happens at a Mass, but it doesn't have to. (The Hoopy Frood and I probably won't, since I'd be the only one there able to receive Communion. Neither one of us want a huge affair, anyway.)

11.) Holy orders: Ordination. I believe the vows women religious fall under this sacrament, as well, although it's not as clear. (And I'm at work, so I can't double check it.) Bishops are the ordinary ministers for it. If you get a chance to see an ordination or solemn profession, go. They're generally gorgeous affairs with lots of happy people. (Chrism--and lots of it--is used at this one. )

12.) Anointing of the sick: this used to be called last rites, since it was generally only done right before a person died. The ordinary for this is a priest or a bishop. (To my knowledge, there's no extra-ordinary minister.) Generally now it's suggested it's done any time a person's quality of life is negatively impacted--surgery is definitely a time, as is dealing with any serious illness (mental or physical.) It's not meant to cure a person--although miraculous cures have sometimes been reported--but it's meant to give them the strength to deal with their illness. Hopefully the priest or altar server grabbed the right jar--the oil of the infirm. Generally this one's done in private, although there may be special Masses at which it's given.

13.) Of these, baptism, confirmation, marriage, and holy orders are only done once over the course of a person's life. Baptisms by all other denominations except Mormons and Jehova's Witnesses are considered valid. Marriages by other denominations are considered valid, but not sacramental (they need a renewing of vows before a priest to be sacramental.) Holy orders, it depends on if your bishops are part of our apostolic succession.

14.) All other sacraments may be repeated, sometimes daily. If you go to confession daily, your priest may talk to you about scruples. A priest might also wonder if something's up if you ask for the anointing of the sick every day.

15.) A sacramental is not a sacrament. It's an object (generally blessed). Or an action (like blessing one's self with holy water, although the water itself may be a sacramental.) Where sacraments are limited to Catholics, anyone can have/use a sacramental.

CFoYC, part 1, The Basics.

So a discussion got me thinking about how culturally Catholics and evangelicals are a world apart. Thus, I'm beginning a series of posts entitled, "Care and feeding of your Catholic."

So you've got yourself a Catholic in the family! Congratulations! With a little understanding, and liberal feedings of chocolate, you'll probably have a happy Catholic for years to come. This is the first in a series of posts designed to get the most out of your Catholic.

1.) The one thing central to a Catholic's life is the sacrifice of the Mass. Odds are in this country, your Catholic is Roman Catholic, one of 4 rites within the Church. This site does a pretty good job of explaining all of them. Any one church within the Catholic Church will count for one's weekly obligation.

2.) The Mass is a sacrifice. Communion in the Catholic Church is offered daily. Catholics believe in the Real Presence--Christ is fully present in the bread and wine of the Eucharist. This is non-negotiable and dogma (there's actually precious little that's defined as dogma. We'll get to that later.) How exactly it happens is also a mystery.

3.) Your Catholic is obligated to go to Mass on Sunday. Other non-feast days are encouraged. Additionally your Catholic will be obligated to go to Mass on certain feasts, non-Sunday days called Holy Days of Obligation--Jan. 1, the Solemnity of Mary; Thursday of the 6th week of easter--the Ascension; August 15--the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin; November 1--All Saints; December 8--the Immaculate Conception (doesn't refer to Christ...); December 25--Christmas. Now if Jan 1, Ascension, or All Saints falls on a Saturday or a Monday, your Catholic may not be obligated to go to Mass. Also, some bishops may make a solemnity--what these feasts are called--on a Sunday. Confused yet? It all depends on what the bishop decides for the diocese in which your Catholic resides.

4.) The Catholic liturgical day starts the night before. So your Catholic could go to Mass on Saturday night, and it would count. Ditto for the night before any Holy Day of Obligation. These are "vigils" of the feast.

5.) There are only two days your Catholic is obliged to fast and abstain: Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. (These aren't days of obligation, although some Catholics will attend services on them. Good Friday never has a Mass.) A Catholic between the age of 14 and 59 must fast as one's health will allow. The rules for fasting are one meal plus all the fluids a person can drink. Two smaller meals plus one larger are allowed, so long as they don't go over the one meal limit.

6.) Abstinence: no meat, except for amphibians, reptiles, bugs, and fish. (Anything cold-blooded is acceptable, although personally my ass is not going to eat salamander, no matter how much hot sauce is served with it.) Also broth in something is acceptable, if you forget and make something with chicken broth on a Friday. Catholics must abstain on all Fridays of the year, plus Good Friday and Ash Wednesday. (So for the meal, your Catholic can't eat meat.) The Friday abstinence during the year (not during Lent!) may be substituted with something else, if you forget and bust out a pot roast when having your Catholic for dinner.

7.) With fasting and abstinence, common sense applies. Obviously a big smoothie from Jamba Juice is pushing the line on the fluids during a fast day. Sushi is acceptable for a day of abstinence, but it's questionable about the spirit of the law. (Since in this country sushi is a luxury.)

8.) All Catholics are required to fast for an hour before receiving Communion. Only exceptions to this fast are water and medicine. (So don't offer your Catholic breakfast before Mass...afterwards breakfast would be appreciated.)

9.) Your Catholic may make the sign of the Cross before and after a prayer, or anytime the formula "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" is used. This is done in remembrance of one's baptism (always Trinitarian).

10.) Upon entering a Catholic church, your Catholic will cross him/herself with holy water, conveniently placed at the entrances, or from the baptismal font. Again, this is a remembrance of one's baptism (how one enters the Church). In a non-Catholic church, your Catholic may forget and cross him/herself with water from your baptismal font, anyway, not finding little holders for holy water at the entrance. (Yes, I've done this.) You aren't required to do this, but if you were baptized according to the Trinitarian formula, you're more than welcome to do so.

11.) If you go with your Catholic to Mass, you'll notice that he/she will genuflect before entering a pew or leaving it. This is because the Real Presence--in the consecrated hosts--are reserved in a special container near the altar or to the side of it called the tabernacle. You aren't required to genuflect. A Catholic doesn't genuflect on Good Friday, because the tabernacle is emptied out the night before. If your Catholic goes to your worship service, he/she may forget and genuflect anyway.

12.) Did you offer to take your Catholic to your worship service? If he/she goes, your Catholic will still be obligated to go to Mass that day. It is not a commentary on your worship! Catholics are obligated to attend Mass on Sunday. Why not go with him/her? Or better yet, if you've got one of the funky other rites within the Catholic Church nearby, why not go to one of them? Both of you will be on equal footing.

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.

And one last little bit of Catholic kitsch (every denomination, every religion has their kitsch. It's just a matter of how much and what kind): The Day-glo St. Cecilila Statue. For some reason I got on a mailing list of every pseudo-schismatic and "traditional" Catholic group out there. (I suspect in my rosary part procurement, some company sold my mailing address.) So I get every catalog of tchotchkes in existence.

It's bad enough that St. Cecilia got stuck with musicians because of a mistranslation, but to be stuck with neon green and hot pink? I think she suffered enough.

1.) I'm still alive. I've got a conference next week, so I'm trying to work on my presentation for it. I'm discussing the game Uplink. It's a great game, and Introversion makes interesting stuff. (Definitely check it out...and if you're interested buy it through Introversion--copies sold in the US from Strategy First aren't legal--there's some battle they're going through because Strategy First tried to rip them off with royalties.) Anyway, I'm kind of frustrated because I'm discussing the soundtrack, yet can't really discuss the music. (It's not a music conference.) And if you do get Uplink, don't throw out your game box.

2.) Here's where I give thanks that the Creator gave people intelligence to make Claritin-D.

3.) If the cylon god turns out to be Dave Matthews, I'm going to be really pissed.

1.) Knowledge base: has anyone ever had it happen that they get their tax refund, and there's a notice in it, saying that the amount is different than what you had on your forms, and that you'll be notified by the IRS in a few days with more information? Got my tax refund Monday, and it's identical to the amount it should've been. I'm waiting for said more information with contact information. Frustrating, because I could really use the money. Googling "notice 54 IRS tax refund" doesn't bring up anything bad. But...argh. No fun over spring break for me. Oh well. Conference paper to write, then I can have some fun.

2.) I have a venue for my recital. I was informed by the liturgy guy at my parish that it will be held at my church. I'm happy about it--it's a gorgeous space, prettier than the music department's recital hall. I'm not sure what there is for sound playback (my God quad or octatonic playback would be wonderful in there), but we've got a year to work it out. I also have to find out if it's OK to do a degree recital in a space like that. There could be some whack WA state statue against it. I know organists often give their recitals in churches, but that could also have to do with the availability of instruments.

3.) Ennui lately. Probably just need a break. Would also like it if the music-theory-as-model-of-musical-experience crowd blogged more, but you can't win 'em all. I should do a set of posts about that branch of music theory, since I think it's the best thing since sliced bread. Conference paper first.

An update of the dissertation meter (in seconds):

705 / 4,500 (15.0%)

I keep going back and forth about whether or not I should talk about the metaphor behind the piece--the mysteries of the rosary. On the one hand, (from gender theory) there are some things that need to be reclaimed--Latin, the rosary, etc. On the other hand, I'm going to get blamed for everything bad that's happened in the past 2000 years, by virtue of being a member of that group. (Never mind that ad hominem is always a logical fallacy.) I guess if a hiring committee ascribes political beliefs to me that I don't personally hold it's not my problem (and illegal.) I know I can't get away with making some sort of political statement with this piece, so it might as well be the one I intend.

I really wish more than just the uptown/downtown crowd blogged on music. I'm getting weary of reading their glorified pissing contests. The 1970's are over, people. If you have a Ph.D,it doesn't mean you write good music. If you don't have a Ph.D, it doesn't mean you write good music. I think the one thing we can say with any certainty is that a person will (at some point in his/her life) write good music. He/She will also write really lousy music.

Another reason why I probably should discuss the ideology in my dissertation piece (pieces, really) is because those with any kind of metaphysics aren't getting much exposure. I get so tired reading blogs like new music box, and have everything be about the surface, making money, and whether or not pop music should be used in classical/new/postmodernist/whatever music. If this world and ontology is all there is, it would be a pretty depressing place to live.

I think that's why I like the music theory as model of musical experience people (Boretz, Randall, Barkin, Rahn, et al.) When you deal with theory as a model of experience, there are multiple possible takes on a given piece. It also lets the music exist as it is, in all its power. Plus pissing contests, like what exist on some new music blogs, aren't as important. We're all seeing a small piece of something complex (and ultimately beyond us). Diversity of opinion can't be a bad thing, in that case.

On suffering

I remember being told when I was young to "offer it up," where "it" was anything burdensome, tiresome, annoying, or just plain something I didn't want to deal with. I suspect more than a few Catholics of my age heard something similar from their relatives. A number of blog posts recently have dealt with suffering, and it's a difficult notion. At one extreme, you get Girard. At the other, suffering becomes some sort of quasi-erotic fetish. Add into this the message of countless antidepressant ads that any lack of happiness is bad, one begins to wonder if there's any value at all in suffering.

I don't disagree with the bit from Von Balthasar about suffering over on Mark Mossa's blog. Our failings do cause brokenness, and the effects of our sins cause suffering. But the notion that suffering is given out of the loving concern for a divine Parent is something that sticks in my throat. No parent likes disciplining their children (of the good parents I know), but I don't know if it's out of duty--it's the parents' jobs to protect their children, and that includes providing discipline--or out of love. But sometimes suffering doesn't have a cause--people come down with horrible illnesses, people cause other people to suffer, and things happen through no fault of the person hit with whatever is causing them to suffer. This model makes me queasy because not everything that happens is a direct result of our actions, and it would be a horrible God that would punish us willy-nilly for things we didn't deserve. This smacks of abuse.

So stuff happens, and we suffer. Thing is, I think we need it. I'm not talking wallowing in one's misery, getting off on it, or a chemical imbalance. All of these are an addiction to suffering, and I think such an addiction leads to depression, which is getting stuck in one big feedback cycle. The key is that suffering can be cathartic--it leads to a healing of a relationship (as in the case of sin), or it leads to another's relief.

I think the issue of suffering is easier to understand through the arts. Granted a "sad" piece of music may not necessarily be "sad," and it probably doesn't reflect the composer's emotions, either. (Great discussion of the person and the piece in composition here.) But through its abstraction, whatever is expressed in the piece is presented so that others may experience and deal with it in a productive manner. Perhaps I'm skirting too closely to Girard again, but I think the end result is fundamentally different. Instead of sacrificial crisis, I think the key is in empathy and compassion (literally feeling with) other people.

Just saying "be happy!" and repressing unhappy thoughts and feelings isn't true happiness--you see this in the Psalms, where the mood swings wildly from utter dejection to praise, sometimes within the same psalm. I think 142 is a good example of this. In the old Benedictine office, which is closest to the plan Benedict laid out in his Rule, it lands on Saturday at Lauds. Sunday, being the "little Easter" (bringing to mind the Easter sacrifice through the Eucharist) can't happen without a little Lent (Friday), and then the nothingness of Holy Saturday. Psalm 142 calls out of this emptiness. You can't have resurrection without death, and you can't have Easter without Lent. Without true repentance, joy rings hollow.

3/14 Edited to fix the fact that psalm 142 doesn't happen on Sunday in the old Benedictine Office...