I have certain views on this Scottish idiosyncrasy , and as a result I think I have one (1) golf picture on my flickr site. Imagine my bemusement when I was invited to add my image to Great Golf Pictures, and I am now a Great Golf Pictures Award Winner! I think it is honest to say that the picture below reflects my feelings about this. Have a nice day, and keep golf in the family.
I check the news very intermittently, but today I turned on the TV while I was getting ready to go to school. George Bush was giving a press conference covering a multitude of topics. First, I heard a new Bushism. He was discussing some political dialogue, and emphasised that he would continue dialoguing with them. Much to my chagrin, it seems to be a real word. Second, while he was talking a reporter put up his hand and asked him about the Turkish vote to allow 60,000 troops to cross into Northern Iraq to attack Kurdish rebels (which was announced while he was talking). I treasured for the rest of the morning his exasperated expression. Finally, a reporter asked him how he defined terrorism; he answered it was whatever the American law was, and quickly changed the topic; the way he said it made me wonder if he knew what the laws were. Then I wondered whether the American laws conformed to the UN definition (sigh).
But I have to hand it to him. During supper I heard that Bush and the United States awarded the Dalai Lama with the Congressional Gold Medal. What is exceptional is that he was photographed and filmed walking on stage with the Dalai Lama holding his arm. This is important because it is the first time that an American President has been photographed with him, and he made a moving statement in support of the Lama. Also, no Canadian Prime Minister has been publicly photographed with the Lama. You can imagine the Chinese reaction! They tolerate meetings of the Lama with foreign leaders, but try their utmost to prevent the Dalai Lama being seen with major political leaders; an event like this will get on the news and the internet even in China. I just read that china is pulling out of talks regarding the Iran-North Korea nuclear proliferation issue, so I guess I know how serious China is.
Also, the Dalai Lama will visit Canada late this month. The first Prime Minister to meet the Dalai Lama was Paul Martin in 2004 (no photos). I’d love to see Harper meet with him, now that Bush has set an example.
The second event was the Canadian Throne speech.It seems we are safe for a while (but there is still a small chance that the speech won’t be accepted). Harper mentioned that he felt like a student getting a report back full of corrections, but which still finally passed.
The third event was Al Gore winning the Nobel Peace Prize for his work on popularising climate change. The best part was the sound of teeth grinding from the extreme right.
Fourth, the Canadian homicide rate has dropped another 10%; meanwhile the Harper government is promoting harsher punishments and fines.
Fifth, Benazir Bhutto is returning to Pakistan; the lady has courage. She is well loved by moderates in the country, and is a real political threat to General Musharraf.
Finally, there’s a good chance that a volcano will go up in British Columbia. Too bad it is in central BC. I was kind of hoping it would occur near Whistler. It would make great fireworks for the 2010 Olympics, and would give them some more hot springs. There’s also the added benefit of more hot springs.
In summary, a few nice things, a few intriguing things, and a few sad things. What a wierd and awesome species are we.
Recently I found a copy of The Righteous by Martin Gilbert, who among other things is Winston Churchill’s official biographer and a world respected authority on Jewish history. This book is a collection of stories about those gentiles who aided the victims of the Holocaust, often risking their lives and that of their families to save others. The book is fascinating, uplifting, horrible, and sad, sometimes at the same time. One thing it does do is to show how great and humane ordinary people can be. Another thing it does is to show bravery, humour, and sheer chutzpah. The term used for such people is Righteous among the nations, and include ordinary citizens, religious figures, and even some German camp guards and S.S. members
While I was familiar with people such as Oskar Schindler and his List, Ambassador Wallenberg, and Stanislaw Zelent, the Angel of Majdanek, I found some other stories that I had either forgotten or never read.
Rescue of the Danish Jews
There’s an apocryphal story that the Nazis ordered Danish Jews to wear yellow stars. King Christian, in response, started wearing one, followed by all the Danes. While this story is a myth (the Nazis didn’t dare to give the order), it is representative of how the Danish people felt. When the Danish people were warned about imminent deportations of the Jews, most were hidden away fairly quickly, and some were smuggled across to Sweden in small vessels and rowboats. Eventually this became so organised that about 8000 Jews were evacuated. The remaining 450 were captured and sent to the Theresienstadt concentration camp. Denmark somehow persuaded Germany to accept food and medicines for the prisoners, and furthermore to keep them out of the extermination camps in Poland. Both of these accomplishments are unique, at least to my knowledge. While about 50 people died in the camps (mostly the elderly), the rest were able to return home after the war.
They saved about 99% of their Jewish citizens, and lost fewer people than any other country in Occupied Europe.
Italy versus Germany
From previous reading I had known that a fair number of deaths had occurred in Italy. I also thought that, given the alliance between Italy and the Third Reich, as well as the Fascist government, that the Italians were enthusiastic collaborators in the extermination. Boy, was I wrong!
As Germany’s major Axis ally, Italy occupied part of France, Yugoslavia, and Greece. Before the war Italy was fairly anti-Semitic and well integrated into Italian society. Under pressure from Germany, in 1938 some anti-Jewish legislation was enacted, including relocating foreign Jews into internment camps. However, the camps included such amenities as schools, cultural activities, and social event; definitely not modeled on the Nazi model.
When Mussolini joined the War in 1940, there was increasing pressure on them to deport Jews from both Italy proper and the occupied territories to the Nazi concentration camps. Italians of all ranks either resisted or disobeyed all such efforts, refusing to give up Italian, French, Yugoslav, or Greek Jews to German authority. Even direct pressure on the Duce was ignored. So until Mussolini fell in 1943, no Jewish person under their authority was sent to a camp, and lived fairly save lives. As well, refugees started to trickle into Italy from nearby regions in Southern Europe.
In late 1943, German forces occupied north and central Italy, where the majority of Jewish citizens and refugees were trapped by Nazi forces. Then they started the roundups, but citizens, government workers, resistance fighters, the Vatican and the Italian churches all resisted. By the end of the war, the Nazi’s had killed about 7600 people, but more than 40,000 were saved. Italy managed to save about 83% of its people.
The Vatican has been criticised for its silence before and during the war, but Gilbert’s books was somewhat more charitable. He mentions the Christmas message of 1942, which, while not specifically naming the Jews, was clear enough to incense the Nazis. When German forces tried to gather up the 5000 Jews in Rome, “the Vatican clergy opened the sanctuaries of the Vatican City to all ‘non-Aryans’ in need of refuge”. False identification papers were handed out, and hundreds of children hid under St. Peter’s. They managed to hide 80% of the people targeted. The Vatican also supported, albeit somewhat erratically at times, resistance and assistance during much of the war, and the papacy and clergy contributed to saving hundreds of thousands of lives. The papacy also protested many of the Nazi abuses and behaviour before the war. Finally, the Vatican, via John Paul II, apologised for being too silent and ambiguous in its message during World War II.
There were two stories here that would make me proud to be a Greek.
First, on the island of Zanythos, Mayor Carrier was asked to give a list of Jews currently living there. Bishop Chrysostomos returned with a list of two names; his and the mayor’s. Meanwhile the 275 Jews hid among their neighbors, and all the Jews survived.
Second, Archbishop Damaskinos of Athens frequently clashed with the Quisling government and the Nazi occupiers. At one point he wrote an open letter protesting the deportation of Greek Jews to concentration camps. It was signed by many important citizens, and is considered unique in its courage, dignity, and respect for common humanity. It also royally ticked off the Nazis, and is well worth reading.
SS Police Leader Stroop (in charge if the liquidation of the Warsaw Ghetto) was enraged by the letter and threatened the Archbishop with a firing squad. Damaskinos’ response was, “Greek religious leaders are not shot, they are hanged. I request that you respect this custom.” Stroop backed down.
He also did an amazing amount to help and protect the Jews, including inciting the Greek Orthodox church to aid and abet the Jews, signing thousands of birth certificates for the Jews, allowing them to be hidden in monasteries and convents, and working with Rabbis, local police, and the Greek Resistance to help the Jews.
Given that the Holocaust was one of the most inhumane acts in history, with 6 million dead Jews and 5-6 million others exterminated, Gilbert’s book about people like the above make you proud to be human. While there are new holocausts occurring in the world, there are also people out there like the Danes, the Italians, and Demoskines. Rwanda has produced its share of horror, but it also reminds us of decent people like Romeo_Dallaire, the hotel manager Paul Rusesabagina, and BBC reporter Mark Doyle. As Rwanda was less deadly than the Shoah, may Darfur be less deadly than Rwanda, and may people start getting involved.
I recently watched two mini-series from when I was a teen-ager, and from watching them and remembering other series that I have watched during and since then, I have the imprerssion that the eighties was a special era. There were three shows that stood out for me:
There are of course a number of factors that contribute to this feeling. First, I was young, and while rather more well read than most of my friends in school I wasn’t all that worldly. And while I had read about some of the issues in the shows, they readings didn’t really have a visceral impact. Second, all three series were dramatic, with strong and sympathetic characters. Third, the characters tended to be multifaceted, with good and bad qualities. Fourth, most of the three were so powerful that they changed the viewpoints, and in some cases the behaviour, of significant portions of hte viewing audience.
First consider Roots. It originated in a major bestseller written by Arthur Hailey about his own family. It was the third highest rated show in history, and 85% of the viewing audience in the United States saw part or all of the series. People who had seen the opening told their friends, and by the finale most of the country was watching it. It brought awareness of the reality of slavery home in a personal way, while showing how the white “masters” were human and compassionate intelligent people, while at the same time having a blindness to the humanity of their slaves. The impact on the white U.S., especially my generation, was huge. It also made an amazing number of people interested in their family history, and the geneology craze continues today.
Shogun also came from a hit bestseller of the same name, written by James Clavell. It is also the only 1200 page paperback that I managed to read at one sitting! The mini-series covered a critical period in the history of Japan, when Europeans started arriving. It was also the end of a long period of warfare, and ended in the Tokugawa Shogunate of 1600, which eventually drove Western influences out of the country until the Meiji restoration in 1867. It also froze the culture of Japan and prevented any large scale warfare. Basically, the series covers the arrival of Dutch and British influence during the lead-up to the Shogunate, with battles, intrigues, and characters that are fairly close to the real players during the era. The major character, Pilot-Major John Blackthorne, is based on William Adams, who became a confidant of Tokugawa aswell as the first western Samurai and Hatamoto. After arriving there among the last surviving ship of a fleet of five, he never left Japan, but had a major influence on the culture.
Like Roots, more and more people stayed by their TV’s as the week went on. For many, it was the first conprehensive view of the Japanese culture (at least in an earlier incarnation), and it covered one of the most important events in Japan in the last thousand years (of which few westerners had the first clue). It was filmed entirely in Japan, and only two of the Japanese cast spoke English. In fact, the female lead Yoko Shimada didn’t speak English and had a voice coast. She still won a Golden Globe as best actress in a TV drama. I learned more about the culture, and especially how it looked and people behaved, than I had out of a dozen books. The book was great, but the series kept the spirit of the book and brought this world to life.
One important aspect was the way the audience viewed the events from Chamberlain’s point of view, as an Englishman thrown into a new world, unable to speak the language, and liable to die at any time because he didn’t understand the culture. Also, the Japanese dialogue didn’t include English sub-titles, but the great acting allowed you to understand an amazing amount, causing you to see these interactions from the viewpoint of Blackthorne. I also learned some basic Japanese from the series, including the meaning of wakarimas, wakarimaska, and wakarimasen.
Some say that sushi bars and Japanese restaurants became popular after the showing. It also made samurai, ninjas, and other characters tiresomely prevalent for a few decades after.
Masada had a more specific goal. It was about a branch of the Jewish Zealots, who after the fall of Jerusalem retreated to the mountain fortress of Masada, created by Herod in the Negev desert. This site is where modern Israeli soldiers were sworn into military service, and the symbolism of the place is due the the Zealots refusal to surrender to the Romans. You see, the Romans laid seige to Masada, and after several hellish and grueling years managed to storm the fortress via a giant ramp up the side of the mountain. When they arrived, the Zealots, as well as their wives and children, had suicided rather than be captured.
What it did for me was to develop an inkling of what it means to Jews to have their home back after two millenia, and an idea of the Israeli Defence Force mentality. The meaning is especially strong for those who remember the Holocaust, and those who fought for nationhood before the 1967 Six-day War. Finally, it also gives some insight into how people can become fanatics, or at least viewed as such.
As a story, it gave me a better insight into the time of the Zealots and the fall of Jerusalem, it had one of the best performances by Peter O’Toole, and Roman legions at war, especially when they are fighting with wierd and wonderful contraptions, is fun to watch. It was a great drama, and taught me about Jews before the Diaspora, and about Israelis of modern times.
I think the main reasons these series were so great included the following:
- they all addressed meaningful, substantive issues, and these issues tended to resonate with large segments of those watching,
- being miniseries, significant character development was much more likely than with a regular series,
- you learned a lot while being entertained,
- they were really well done, with good to great actors. For example, Richard Chamberlain, Peter O’Toole, Maya Angelou, Toshiru Mifune, Anthony Quayle, …
- in the early eighties, you either had movies, which couldn’t cover these subjects in great depth, regular TV series, which usually used uncennected episodes with no real development of a topic over a series of episodes, or fairly dry documentaries. The idea of a miniseries, which covered a topic on consecutive nights and which reached a conclusion in an organic manner, was new, entertaining, and refreshing. Combined with great and meaningful stories, this recipe drew in many people.
Today, of course, pretty well everyone thinks they have a good understanding of Japanese culture, and with the best electronics and cars which started to come out of Japan in the 70s and 80s there was at least a grudging respect for them. Regarding slavery in the U.S., it seems that many have accepted separate but equal cultures along with mutual accomodation, and of course the popular geneology bug popularised by Roots continues almost unabated (i.e. a good friend is really into it). With regards to Israel and the proud independance of the Sabras versus the Diaspora Jews just after the Second World War, very few gentiles care anymore. The State of Israel and the way it treats Palestinians has pretty well eliminated much of the sympathy for their plight during the Holocaust and the pograms going back through history, and the admiration of the Western world in the state they made in the 50s and early 60s. So today Masada’s symbolism matters not to the West, and to the some of the Palestinians and some other Muslims it might be argued that a repeat of that era might be a good thing.
I learned much that was new to me, or looked at it from a different perspective, by watch these three events. And I had a lot of fun doing it. It would be nice to have more shows like this, but in the internet culture, and with the decrease in viewership of the major networks, it’s not likely that we’ll see much to match the 80s.
Or maybe I’m just prejudiced towards what I liked as a teenager.
This glancing life is like a morning star
A setting sun or rolling waves at sea
A gentle breeze or lightning in a storm
A dancing dream of all eternity
-Caravanserai from An Ancient Muse by Loreena McKennitt
Last night I went to see Loreena McKennitt’s new concert, An Ancient Muse. This tour will cross Canada in September, then move south through the United States in October. I confess to a “slight” bias towards her music, but I have never seen her live before. Given the recent release of the CD An Ancient Muse, I expected that the performance would focus on the new music, and I was worried that her earlier work would be short-changed. Also, given the high ticket price and the less than perfect seating, I was dreading the possibility that the show would be less than stellar. Here is what actually happened.
It was a dark and stormy night. I arrive fifteen minutes early, wrung myself out and went to my seat. Much to my relief the audience was dressed in a relaxed and eclectic style, so my lack of dress shoes and a tie fit in well with others jeans, shorts, tuxedos, mini-skirts, ballroom gowns, and celticised serapes. The stages set-up was elegant and simple. A piano, keyboard, harp, and key accordion were at centre stage for Loreena’s use, with a slightly raised section behind her for the nine over-talented accomplices to her magic. Hanging from the ceiling were half a dozen Arabic chandeliers, and the backdrop was a simple Arabesque tapestry of a neutral light tan colour. Just left of centre stage was a classic pointed arch framing the main percussion session.
While simple and clean, the lighting system made this stage setting magically versatile. By varying lighting angles and colours, the backdrop would become a solid glowing royal blue, or dripping ruby fading to darkness as you looked upwards, or a wavering rich green dimming to darkness in the lower depths. Sometimes the background disappeared as vertical spreading beams overlapped to form a gossamer silken canopy draping towards the stage, or fog, or crystal-sharp stars on a moonless night. They also made sure that the lighting effects did not distract from the performance, only focusing spots on key performances in a gradual understated manner, and only making major lighting changes between songs.
From left to right on the stage were
- Brian Hughes: electric and acoutic guitar, oud, celtic bazouki
- Ben Grossman: hurdy-gurdy and percussion
- Rick Lazar: percussion
- Tal Bergman: drums and percussion
- Tim Lander: acoustic and Electric Base
- Socratis Synopoulos: lyra, Greek Lute
- Donald Quan: viola, keyboards, tabla, accordion
- Caroline Lavelle: cello
- and Hugh Marsh on violin.
I had no idea how the performance would commence, so I was sitting up anxiously as the lights went down, with all sense on the alert. A vertical golden spotlight slowly brightened, and a vertical viola appeared and started playing. As the light slowly increased, a silhouette of a harpist with a halo of yellow-orange hair appeared. Then a second spot shone on the harpist as she started singing “She moved through the fair”. Her voice filled the auditorium, and when her voice rose towards the higher notes, it felt like you were within and part of the song, instead of listening to something from outside yourself. As the music moved into the instrumental finale the light faded over Loreena, she returned to being a silhouette framed by the sunlight of her hair, then the viola was the only thing visible on the stage, then it faded into the night.
The audience, after a moment of awe, started applauding, and I knew that there would be magic that night.
Happily, the repertoire included a good selection from The Book of Secrets and The Mask and the Mirror. There were also a number from the new album, An Ancient Muse, as well as such favourites as The Lady of Shalott, Bonny Portmore, The Old Ways, and Cymbeline from The Visit. Her voice and the feeling she put into the music were wonderful, as were some of her entertaining and rambling discussions of the travels of the Celts both east and west. It seems that there are mummies of communites of proto-Celts at the eastern end of the Silk Road, dating back as far as three thousand BCE, including a six foot tall man with red hair and wearing plaids.
Regarding the musicians and the instruments used, as seen from the list above the variety was amazing. More amazing were their performances. My favourite player was the fiddler Hugh Marsh, who must have been trained in Fiddler’s Green via the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. For example, they gave him an extremely loud ovation at the end his solo during Santiago. Also, I was impressed that during one song he held a single note without perceptible variation for over thirty seconds while busily bowing back and forth; I couldn’t hear a pause, nor a perceptible waver in the note. I also loved the electric guitar under the fingers of Brian Hughes, especially when he played counterpoint to Hugh during “The Bonnie Swans”. On stage they played some riffs not in The Mask and the Mirror, and the audience stood to applaud them at the end of the song. Ben Grossman on the hurdy-gurdy was also great, and this was the first time I had seen this instrument played; from where I stood it seemed as if he was stroking the base like Aladdin polishing his lamp, and the music that came out was just as magical.
At the end of the show she gave two encores. During the second encore she discussed and celebrated the search and rescue efforts of the Canadian Armed Forces, and mentioned that she was made Honourary Colonel of 435 Squadron, which conducts Search and Rescue (SAR) operations as well as transport duties in Western Canada. For those who don’t realise it, 2006 the first time that she has toured since 1998, when her fiance and two close friends died during a boating accident. This caused her to be active in prevention efforts and fundraising, and eventually to her interest in military SAR operations. She then dedicated “Dante’s Prayer” in remembrance of Shawn McCaughey of the Snowbirds, who died last summer in Montana. Anyone who knows this song will realise how appropriate it is.
In summary, her voice is as good as ever, the musicians with her are excellent, and the arrangement and staging were simple and elegant. It was well worth the walk home through the rain.
One aspect of Loreena McKennitt’s music is the research and historical depth that informs her music. In the case of An Ancient Muse, she mentioned several times an excellent book by Susan Whitfield called Life along the Silk Road. The Silk Road is the collection of routes used for trade and communication between China and its predecessor states with the West, extending back possibly beyond 4000 years. In recorded history the first major connections probably occurred between 200 BCE and 200 ACE. One of the major periods of trade was the 8th century, which Whitfield’s book concentrates on. The appeal of this book is that it reads like the Canterbury tales, showing what life was like for soldiers, nuns, steppe horsemen, Imperial Tibetans, traders, etc. It shows how information, technology, and people spread east and west over some of the strangest and most hostile terrain on earth.
For me, while I listen to songs such as Caravanserai, Kecharitomene, and Beneath a Phrygian Sky, I imagine the multitudes of races meeting and trading at the bazaars, the caution and daring needed to get a caravan over 15,000 foot passes, seeing sand dunes reaching 300 metres into the sky in the Tarim Basin, going for days without water in the Taklamakan Desert, watching out for horsemen of the steppes along the northern routes, and the great battles in the mountains at the top of the world between Imperial Tibet and China for access to the eastern side of the Silk Road. To the West it was the Great Unknown; to those who lived along it it was magical, dangerous, and ever changing.
Here are some names that evoke the lure and mystery of the route to me:
- Lapis lazuli
- Khyber Pass
- Gobi Desert
- Taklamakan Desert (Uighur for “if you go in there you won’t get out”)
- Tien Shan Mountains
- Kunlun Mountains
- Lop Nor
- Hindu Kush
A few weeks ago I took a two hour cruise (therefore no Gilligan-type problems) on a ketch that turned out to be more colourful than usual. We sailed from Lunenburg Harbour out to the Ovens and back (this is on the Southwestern Shore of Nova Scotia). The wind was light but steady, and we made fairly good time.
It reminded me of how much I like sailing. Maybe I’ll get a boat.
a quickr pickr post
Master of all she surveys.
This article is from the humor archives. Think outside the box.
The following concerns a question in a physics degree exam at the University of Copenhagen:
“Describe how to determine the height of a skyscraper with a barometer.”
One student replied:
“You tie a long piece of string to the neck of the barometer, then lower the barometer from the roof of the skyscraper to the ground. The length of the string plus the length of the barometer will equal the height of the building.”
This highly original answer so incensed the examiner that the student was failed immediately. He appealed on the grounds that his answer was indisputably correct, and the university appointed an independent arbiter to decide the case. The arbiter judged that the answer was indeed correct, but did not display any noticeable knowledge of physics. To resolve the problem it was decided to call the student in and allow him six minutes in which to provide a verbal answer which showed at least a minimal familiarity with the basic principles of physics. For five minutes the student sat in silence, forehead creased in thought. The arbiter reminded him that time was running out, to which the student replied that he had several extremely relevant answers, but couldn’t make up his mind which to use. On being advised to hurry up the student replied as follows:
“Firstly, you could take the barometer up to the roof of the skyscraper, drop it over the edge, and measure the time it takes to reach the ground. The height of the building can then be worked out from the formula H = 0.5g x t squared. But bad luck on the barometer.
“Or if the sun is shining you could measure the height of the barometer, then set it on end and measure the length of its shadow. Then you measure the length of the skyscraper’s shadow, and thereafter it is a simple matter of proportional arithmetic to work uut the height of the skyscraper.
“But if you wanted to be highly scientific about it, you could tie a short piece of string to the barometer and swing it like a pendulum, first at ground level and then on the roof of the skyscraper. The height is worked out by the difference in the gravitational restoring force T = 2 pi sqrroot (l/g).
“Or if the skyscraper has an outside emergency staircase, it would be easier to walk up it and mark off the height of the skyscraper in barometer lengths, then add them up.
“If you merely wanted to be boring and orthodox about it, of course, you could use the barometer to measure the air pressure on the roof of the skyscraper and on the ground, and convert the difference in millibars into feet to give the height of the building.
But since we are constantly being exhorted to exercise independence of mind and apply scientific methods, undoubtedly the best way would be to knock on the janitor’s door and say to him ‘If you would like a nice new barometer, I will give you this one if you tell me the height of this skyscraper’.”
The student was Nils Bohr, the only Dane to win the Nobel prize for Physics.