ThinkBlog

http://thinkblog.org/index.php/2005/06/13/fedora_core_4_released#c4293

In the world of computing, there are certain key disagreements over form and function that are bound to erupt into highly polarized debates (often degenerating into flame wars). These “holy war” kinds of questions, argued from both sides by people with very strong opinions and, often, a cogent rationale backing them, serve as the basis for line-drawing between dichotomous camps. There are two prime examples of this that have entered into the vernacular of the computing cognoscente: Emacs versus vi, and Linux versus BSD. I’ll be considering the latter.

It has to be said, the most widely appealed-to reason for BSD over Linux is, simply put, Ceren Ercen, who can be found at most major conventions where BSD has a booth, sporting a full-body, red latex suit replete with horns and a tail in deference to Beastie, the official BSD mascot. Well, so much for the fetishistic advantages of Linux; on to the real issue.

First, a bit of history. Any version of BSD you will find today, as well as the Linux kernel, hail back to the original AT&T Bell Labs UNIX operating system developed in the late 1960s by Ken Thompson and Dennis Ritchie. BSD, which stands for “Berkeley Software Distribution,” was a set of packages developed for UNIX, but eventually evolved into its own operating system that had the look and feel of UNIX, as well as its functions, but without any of the original copyrighted code (hence, these days, you won’t see “BSD Unix” on any manuals, because BSD can’t legally use the UNIX name). On the other side of the coin, in August of 1991, the young Linus Torvalds decided to design his own kernel that was even better than Minix, a UNIX-esque (”POSIX-compliant”) operating system. He worked for three years until the release of kernel 1.0, and Linux was born. For a much more thoroughgoing article on BSD, check out “BSD For Linux Users,” by Matthew Fuller.

It will come as no surprise to my regular ThinkBlog readers that my reasons for using Linux over BSD are primarily ideological. I got my feet wet in DOS in 1987, then Windows 3.11, and when Windows 95 came out, I inherited the family computer (a Pentium 75 overclocked from-the-factory at 90MHz—CompuAdd is now out of business, go figure) and began to enter the world of underground computing. The more I learned about Internet culture, the more I wanted to become involved, and the more interested I became in programming. Gradually, in my copious research into hacking and phreaking, I was exposed to an enormous amount of literature (I use the term loosely) on Linux and its potential, its beginnings, &c. It became clear to me that if I intended (as I did, at that time) to be an expert C++ programmer and to be a computer science major, I needed to get my hands on Linux, install it, and learn the ropes, hands-on. I ordered Debian 2.0 from CheapBytes for $0.99, and I was in business.

Sort of. There were so many sleepless nights foreshadowing what was to come, trying to figure out what I was doing in this brand-new operating system—formatting, installing, reformatting, learning; repeat. I became thoroughly enamored with the Linux way of doing things, by learning it in a very personal way; as soon as I learned one thing, it enabled me to learn more, and to ask more intelligent questions. Keeping that in mind, it’s also worth noting that I was really never exposed to BSD. Every hacker whom I thought worthy of emulation talked so highly (and voluminously) about Linux, I saw the options as being limited, on an x86 machine, to Windows (evil) or Linux (underdog dragon-slayer).

I still use Linux for ideological reasons, but now much more practical ones as well. There are certain key differences between Linux and BSD that make the former more favorable to me. For one, BSD is a full operating system of itself, having a kernel and all the essential apps you need to run a machine. They’re all designed by the same group of people. Linux is, technically, just a kernel. That can be misleading, though, because there are fully 361 Linux distributions, each one of which pulls the operating system base together with end-user applications to form a complete system. This is why, while there are several BSD versions, each focusing on a different issue (FreeBSD—user-friendliness, NetBSD—hardware compatibility, OpenBSD—security), literally anyone can build a Linux distribution by pulling together a system of programs (each crafted by separate teams or individuals) and a way to update them.

I like the model of Linux because it allows me to make all the modifications. BSD seems, to me, to be like buying the frame, engine, interior, &c. from the car company and then painting it and tweaking it out or adding NOS as you wish. Linux, on the other hand, gives you the schematics for an engine of whatever power you wish, tells you how to build it, and gives you all the parts necessary to make a beast. (Part of the appeal of pre-packaged commercial distributions, like Red Hat, SUSE, MandrakeSoft, and so on, is that they offer pre-built metaphorical vehicles that are much less modifiable to those not in the know—which prevents a situation like where you “know just enough Greek to be dangerous.” Am I being convoluted enough for you? )

So, Why Fedora?
So, that’s what I prefer about Linux over BSD—there are other commonly cited considerations, like hardware compatibility and user-friendliness, to which I cannot personally speak, since I’ve never run BSD on a home machine or in an environment where I could “play” and get to know the system. But I prefer Fedora for a more specific reason.

Namely, cutting-edge, dynamic development in a community environment. I admire Debian for being so flawlessly stable and well-integrated—in a server environment, I would go with Debian 100% of the time—but when it comes to my home system, I admire it like I admire the kind, pipe-smoking, wizened old man who has the wit and wisdom to handle almost any problem and will never let you down—but who has a hard time handling some of the more newfangled gadgets these days. On my home system, I like to be involved in a sense of community—if something goes wrong, or if I push my system to the limits and it fails, I report on what happened in an effort to make the OS better. I enjoy compiling my own programs with optimizations in a way that Debian and some other distributions would see as a threat to stability. Linux can do uptimes of many months (anecdotally years, but YMMV), but if I’m not running a web or other ‘net server, I don’t mind if I have to reboot every few weeks because of this or that.

That said, specifically from the comment that sparked this post, there are two things addressed right off: (1) Red Hat 5.2 was less than stellar, and (2) RPM-based systems can be clunky, viz. Mandrake and SUSE.

I’ve never used Mandrake; I got half-way through the install and realized that it was geared toward the newer user. I installed SUSE on a couple of machines for a company last year, and it’s absolutely solid in a work environment (Novell now owns SUSE, so the fibers of [e.g., Netware] protocol interconnectivity have become much more tightly knit), but not great for the home user.

Frankly, the good Red Hat versions were 6.0, 7.3, and 9.0 (IMHO). Fedora, based on Red Hat, has a much more robust packaging system (RPM) than RHL 5.2 had. If you haven’t visited Linux since then, give it another shot with either Fedora or Ubuntu (based on Debian)—you’ll be pleasantly surprised. For the ultimate in cutting edge, try Gentoo, but be prepared for an enormous learning curve and time investment—with equal payoff, it must be said, in the reward of a perfectly hand-tweaked OS.

I hope that clears up some things, and that this was interesting. Leave a comment if you’re so inclined!

Done with summer classes, now to work full-time and perhaps get a new car come mid-August!

http://www.okcupid.com/

You can find me on OkCupid, MySpace, Facebook, and Friendster, but I’m most partial to OkCupid at this point, I have to say. There are over 10,000 user-created personality tests and several thousand very pointed questions that are designed to ascertain your unique traits in light of your peers. Not surprisingly, I come out looking like an ultra-conservative Clark Kent, but it’s fun nonetheless, if you enjoy biding some idle time with personality quizzes—or meeting new people.

(Posts with meat are coming, just as soon as I get some real sleep!)

I got bored earlier today between class and working out and didn’t want to think about my sunburn, so I took some of those user-created, completely-unscientific-yet-amusing quizzes. Here are some results:

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You are dependable, popular, and observant.
Deep and thoughtful, you are prone to moodiness.
In fact, your emotions tend to influence everything you do.

You are unique, creative, and expressive.
You don’t mind waving your freak flag every once and a while.
And lucky for you, most people find your weird ways charming!

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I have to say, I like this one, even though it’s ridiculous

Part Expert Kisser

You’re a kissing pro, but it’s all about quality and not quantity You’ve perfected your kissing technique and can knock anyone’s socks off And you’re adaptable, giving each partner what they crave When it comes down to it, your kisses are truly unforgettable

Part Playful Kisser

Kissing is a huge game for you, a way to flirt and play You’re the first one to suggest playing spin the bottle at a party Or you’ll go for the wild kiss during a game of truth or dare And you’re up for kissing any sexy stranger if the mood is right!

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Incidentally, I’m not 31.

You Are 31 Years Old

31 Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what’s to come… love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You’ve had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You’ve been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

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I’m also an INTP when taking the MBTI, Kiersey, or IPTI2 tests. You can select up to five results; my results in higher to lower rank after the first are ENTP, INFP, ENFP, and INTJ.

Your #1 Love Type: INTP

The Thinker In love, you are honest and serious about commitment. For you, sex is something you think about and desire a lot of the time. Overall, you are pure in your affection and feelings. However, you tend to be suspicious and distrusting at times. Best matches: ENTJ and ESTJ

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I was thinking something from Solomon when I did this one—nope, animé quotes. Alas.

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Ah, the joys and errors of stereotypes.

Your Brain is 60.00% Female, 40.00% Male

Your brain is a healthy mix of male and female You are both sensitive and savvy Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve

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I like this one and the next one, even though they sound somewhat horoscopic.

The True You

You want your girlfriend or boyfriend to be more open with you.

With respect to money, you spend carefully and save your pennies.

You think good luck might come your way, but if it does you’ll be so surprised you’ll burst out laughing.

The hidden side of your personality tends to be satisfied to care for things with a minimal amount of effort.

You are tend to think about others’ feelings a lot, perhaps because you are so eager to be liked.

When it comes to finding a romantic partner, you will search and search until you find your perfect match.

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Last one!

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to good manners and elegance.

In love, you feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and you’re told that you’re loved.

You’d like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance.

Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything… no secrets.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.

You think of marriage as something precious. You’ll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.

In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You’ll do anything for love, but you won’t fall for it easily.

I just wrote this this morning for my ethics (”contemporary moral issues”) class. The assignment was to consider whether it would be morally wrong to enter a machine that would simulate experiences for a period of two years, during which you would not realize you were in the machine. (Think the Matrix, by choice.)

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I will be considering whether it is most beneficial for me—and, by extension, any human being—to enter an Experience Machine that would simulate pleasurable experiences (e.g., writing a bestseller novel, climbing Everest, jumping from a plane, etc.) for a period no less than and not exceeding two years. The user would program his wishes into the machine. Once inside, the user would not realize that his experiences were not actually taking place.

In the first place, I would not enter the machine. Fantasies are often made sweeter by the fact that we are aware that they are such—there’s an element of bitterness in knowing that it is not reality, but it makes us concentrate on savoring the experience all the more, whether we are reading a fascinating novel, watching a captivating movie, daydreaming about a sweetheart, or imagining ourselves participating in some grand adventure. However, the pure sweetness of a dream that is so potent that it is indistinguishable from reality is quickly replaced by sorrow upon awareness that the experience was not real. The more intensely pleasurable the dream is, the more we regret it in those brief disambiguating moments upon waking.

From a simply hedonistic perspective, while we may hate waking from a wonderful dream, it is most wise to consider that its short timespan keeps us from feeling awfully bereaved upon waking. Applying this principle to the Experience Machine, it is clear that if the pain of waking from a pleasurable dream is significant enough to upset us, then the horror of waking from a pleasurable simulation of a full two years in length would be enough to devastate us. This would be all the worse because all of the people whom we dreamed were with us would not have been: If one climbed a mountain with her beloved, he would not be there, and indeed would not know her; if one wrote a novel and had won new friends, his friends would not be there; and all the time that one spends in the machine apart from the reality of actual loved ones, they are beginning to forget him, or are at best not getting closer to him in the slightest. Coming to an awareness upon waking that not only were the experiences a lie, but that he is no closer now to all the people about whom he dreamt than when he first went in would be a harsh and miserable realization. The one who wakes may consider that life is no longer worth living apart from the experience machine, but that his actual life is wasting away while he is inside, and so, trapped between two dismal options, his quality of life and general pleasure would drop into a state of bitter despair.

It seems that the only way around this intense pain would be to wipe the user’s memory of it having ever happened when he or she wakes. This, too, is unacceptable—indeed, potentially much more so—because the memory of the experience, while false, is still all the person has to signify that two years of his or her life have passed. Even granting that there was a way to keep one’s muscles from atrophying, and to keep nutritive intake at an acceptable level, the one who entered the machine and then had his memory wiped would be completely bereft of two full years of his life, in which his friends and loved ones as well as his body—but not his mind, insofar as new experience is concerned—have all aged and matured. Then the idea that the machine had delivered pleasure would be not only moot but a cruel reality.

Let us consider for a moment that this would not be the case: that the one who enters the machine could come out and, after a nominal period of debriefing—mental “detoxification,” as it were—would be fully able to re-enter the stream of normal life. Perhaps this would not be the case. It could be argued, with however much difficulty, that the psychological adjustment of having lost two years of one’s life would have minimal negative impact and that the whole experience would grant the user a net pleasure. Why, then, should we not condone the use of the experience machine?

The answer inevitably points beyond the individual’s pleasure and pain to the way in which that person fills needs and particular jobs and fits into other persons’ schemas in unique ways. When one would enter a machine such as this, he would effectively be dead to the world for a period of two years. He would not only lose vital skills through disuse, but he would also leave a vaccuum in his unique social roles. At his job, even if there were nineteen other people with his exact job description, he was a part of the office dynamic amongst his coworkers and filled a necessary role—if the employer didn’t need all twenty people, he would not have hired them in the first place. If he was an active member of a church, synagogue, mosque, or temple, his abilities to serve will be missed to the whole community and, in some small part, to the whole community of believers. Among friends, he would be missed because one of the great joys of friendship is in shared experience: if he is no longer there, his element of sharing will be lost. Finally, his family will have lost an integral member for two years, and all of the elements of participation, however minor they may have been, will be gone from them. For the sake of argument, let us say that the experience machine user was living away from his parents and had officially “left the nest” to make his own place in the world. Nevertheless, if there was a serious illness, if someone needed his help, or if some issue came up within the family, he may be unable to say goodbye to a parent or loved one, he would certainly be unable to help, and the little things that family do for each other and with one another—no matter how seldom—would be lost.

Ethically, then, there is more at stake than one’s personal well-being when we do not consider anything but pleasure and utility. Entering the experience machine for two years is morally impermissible because it sacrifices all the good one could be doing for his employer, his fellow faithful, his friends, and his family for the sake of his own pleasure. The fulfillment of our desires must not trump the benefits of giving to others; when it does, the utilitarian position becomes bounded hedonism, unwilling to say that sheer pleasure is the highest good, but also unwilling to say that suffering is ever a good, unless it brings pleasure to others. We have duties that may not bring us pleasure in their performance, but which are necessary and good: the idea of selfless care for another, just for his or her own sake and even if there will be minimal end benefit to him or her, is lost on the utilitarian. If no one takes into account another person’s well-being—or even his or her own well-being—apart from an account of how much suffering or pleasure a person is getting, society will eventually collapse into communism or anarchy. For this reason, by extension, choosing a couple of years of pleasure over the benefits that would be seen by even a single person acting selflessly even part of the time, is morally untenable.

We had a great time on the lake this past weekend … what ridiculous shenanigans there were! But I am now absolutely fried to a crisp. Apparently the coating on my back and forearms (and stomach … and legs) was insufficient to keep me from being irradiated into a lobster.

http://www.teach12.com/ttc/assets/coursedescriptions/437.asp

I’ve been listening to lectures by reknowned existential scholar Dr. Robert Solomon. This is a remarkably clear teaching, and I love the material. Every time I pop in a lecture my nostrils flare with the sweet adrenaline of new intellectual discovery.

So when I was coming back from Charleston last weekend, I was making notes (very sloppily and taking great care not to glance down too long—I was driving) on all these little points that he made that really struck me. Here are a couple. (More will follow as I read more in conjunction with the lectures I’ve already been through and the ones that follow.)

At one point in the fourth lecture—one dealing with Albert Camus (1913-1960)—he makes the point that Camus believed that “Reflections poison experience,” as evidenced by his character Jean-Baptiste Clamence in The Fall and by Meursault in The Stranger. The converse is also true, as comes across much more axiomatically to our sensibilities: experiences can poison reason. (A coder who has lines of state in his head suddenly gets interrupted by someone calling his name; a reader of philosophy is struck by hunger pangs somewhere between the categorical imperative and the principle of equal consideration of interests; et cetera.)

But I find this to be a very interesting point, since it seems to be true in the sense that, if I am so caught up in my own mind about something, I cannot enjoy it fully; but I cannot fully cut off my intuitions and ever just enjoy an experience: it seems foolish to think that anyone could altogether shunt every bit of attention to sensory inputs. Nevertheless, it’s worth consideration. Perhaps I will remember this the next time I am sipping a fine espresso while reading: “one, then the other.” Have you had experiences clouded by thoughts in this way?

Another thing Solomon mentions later is a comment Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) notes about the absurdity of couples “making love.” In the nineteenth century, Solomon points out, the expression “making love” is what we today would call PDA, “Public Display of Affection” or something just shy of “making out.” I really love this imagery. I wonder what this says about empathic capacities of other people: if you are the type to be disgusted by a couple “making love” with one another because it is absurd, is that because you have difficulty placing yourself in their shoes?

More to the point, is the absurdity of “making love” always there just a little bit because it is necessarily subjective? Even if I can appreciate the cooing and kissing of an amorous couple, it is not I who engages in the acts Right Then, so that perhaps makes it retain its absurdity. Parallel this to the absurdity of death for a moment. Because we all share in death, it is absurd to us all that death should trump life—our lives—just as it is absurd that we should not be the ones “making love.”

http://www.cinemaguild.com/fearandtrembling/

(Actual title: Stupeur et tremblements)

If you get the chance to see this charming independent film, do so.

I went with some friends a couple of weeks ago to the Nickelodeon Theatre in Columbia to see this French/Japanese film directed by Alain Corneau with absolutely no expectations. It just seemed like something fun to do, and I had no idea what it was going to be about. Well, here’s what it’s about, from the website:

Director Alain Courneau’s FEAR AND TREMBLING follows downtrodden Belgian translator Amélie (Sylvie Testud) as she takes a job in a Tokyo firm’s head office. Despite speaking fluent Japanese and enamored with life in the East, she quickly finds herself on the receiving end of cruel office politics, sadistic bosses, and the complex niceties of Japan’s intricate system of manners. Amélie soon discovers that particular tasks are less important than observance of the intricate, rigorously hierarchical codes that govern corporate behavior. As her dream job turns into a living nightmare, she’s trapped in a world that’s part LOST IN TRANSLATION and part SECRETARY. “A smart, funny tale of thwarted dreams and impossible humiliation.” - Steven Rea, Philadelphia Inquirer 2004. France/Japan. French and Japanese (with English subtitles). Not rated. 107 min.

Maybe it’s Sylvie Testud’s striking beauty and mastery of subtle facial and body language; maybe it’s the absurd depiction of corporate Japan rimmed with truth; but whatever it is, this extraordinarily subtle comedy shines as a gem amidst so many shoot-’em-up American releases. If you’re adept at reading subtitles, or if you know French (and/or Japanese), the “foreign” aspect of the film won’t give you any difficulties; and frankly, it wouldn’t anyway, so well-acted is this piece.

Thoroughly charming. Highly recommended.

I was complaining to some friends a couple of weeks ago that I wouldn’t be able to take a vacation this summer, and haven’t for years now. Well, that’s no longer true, I happily report! I’ll be at a lake with some friends this weekend, because by a miracle and the kindness of my boss’s heart, I have Saturday off.

Don’t worry, I have blog postings set to trigger for the weekend! See you next week!

I wanted to buy a cheap 16X DVD player for my computer a while back, and I got what I paid for.

The EPO Technologies model DVD-8216 has played a total of six DVDs well in the year that I’ve had it. Yes, that’s right, six. I don’t watch movies often, but when I do, I want the drive to work right the very first time. This one has given me nothing but trouble lately—clicking, skipping minutes’ worth of frames at a time, jumbled audio. The rest of my system is quite up to spec.

This drive has been nothing but a disappointment. I’ve spent the past two hours struggling through the first half-hour of a virgin Terminator disc with not a single scratch on it. If you have the money to spend on this drive, save up for another week or two and go with something worthwhile.

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/redirect?path=AS...=9325

For my “Contemporary Moral Issues” class this summer, we were assigned two books to read. The first of these was the fourth edition of James Rachels’ The Elements of Moral Philosophy. In it, Rachels offers concise explanations for today’s hottest problems in an unusually non-judgmental way.

The introduction is about the nature of morality itself, with several examples from the headlines of the past ten to fifteen years to illustrate complex ethical problems, followed by a section on cultural relativism and how it relates to ethical relativism. Weaving his way through everything from Divine Command theory to ethical egoism, utilitarianism, Kantianism, and feminism and Aristotelian (Nicomachean) ethics. I found the layout of the book to be very clear, even though it was hardly chronological.

What strikes me most about this book, along with its lucidity, is that his arguments are clear but fair. He makes an equal effort (with sometimes, admittedly, unequal success as in the case of Kantianism) at poking holes in each theory and asking pointed questions. I expected him to be a lot more biased against religious explanations than he is.

Overall, a good layman’s overview of ethics. I would recommend it even if it’s not assigned to you, as it’s very thin and readable, if you’re in an ethics class or just want to familiarize yourself with late academic considerations of classic moral difficulties.

4/5

1 Ki 3:5-15 [NAS]

In Gibeon the LORD appeared to Solomon in a dream at night; and God said, “Ask what you wish me to give you.”

Then Solomon said, “You have shown great lovingkindness to Your servant David my father, according as he walked before You in truth and righteousness and uprightness of heart toward You; and You have reserved for him this great lovingkindness, that You have given him a son to sit on his throne, as it is this day.

“Now, O LORD my God, You have made Your servant king in place of my father David, yet I am but a little child; I do not know how to go out or come in. Your servant is in the midst of Your people which You have chosen, a great people who are too many to be numbered or counted. So give Your servant an understanding heart to judge Your people to discern between good and evil. For who is able to judge this great people of Yours?”

It was pleasing in the sight of the Lord that Solomon had asked this thing. God said to him, “Because you have asked this thing and have not asked for yourself long life, nor have asked riches for yourself, nor have you asked for the life of your enemies, but have asked for yourself discernment to understand justice, behold, I have done according to your words. Behold, I have given you a wise and discerning heart, so that there has been no one like you before you, nor shall one like you arise after you.

“I have also given you what you have not asked, both riches and honor, so that there will not be any among the kings like you all your days. If you walk in My ways, keeping My statutes and commandments, as your father David walked, then I will prolong your days.”

Then Solomon awoke, and behold, it was a dream. And he came to Jerusalem and stood before the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and offered burnt offerings and made peace offerings, and made a feast for all his servants.

All dreams mean something. That “something” may be profound, intensely lucid, and spiritually pointed, as it was in Solomon’s case, or it may be a simply latent psychological issue; but in any case, dreams are an invitation to a world of self-discovery and, potentially, spiritual guidance.

Now, that’s not to say that I think everyone has true epiphanies like this, or that even many people will ever experience the moving of God directly in our dreams; but in Western tradition dreams are a too-often neglected well of rich psychological and spiritual meaning. Freud took too extremely sexual a tack in interpreting them, and Jung was a bit too animistic, but I really think they were on to something. Indeed, I think Solomon, Joseph, and all the rest were onto something.

I’ve had several dreams lately that had profound psychological impact for me, when I chose not to ignore them. Some have been horrifying; others, breathtakingly peaceful—but when I search out the meaning for them in prayer, I discover things about myself and about the nature of God (viz., grace and love) that have been for the past few years nearly impossible for me to conceptualize apart from the “grace” and “love” of, e.g., women.

Solomon was the wisest man who ever lived—up through this day, excepting only Jesus. Should we not then take heed of his actions? Should we not take seriously the internal life welling out of our psyches when our brains aren’t otherwise occupied?

Is the Golden Rule inconsistent?

Treat others the same way you want them to treat you. [Lk 6:31 NAS]

Now that I have your attention, allow me to elaborate on a point that a professor of mine from last semester made back in February (and I just remembered I had the draft still saved in here!). He was saying, in an off-the-cuff fashion just before he moved on, that the Golden Rule seems to be inconsistent, because it expresses an ethic of reciprocity: it assumes selfishness, so it can’t be a completely altruistic (i.e., “charitable”) moral code.

As for me, it seems that while there is an assumption of a selfish nature, it commands us to consider others as important as ourselves—which is the hard part—and the assumption itself is warranted because it came from our Creator. I’d like to hear what you think.

Happy Father’s Day to all those with kids, or who will have them at some point in the future.

When you think “Wagnerian opera,” what comes to mind? Have you ever thought that perhaps “The Ride of the Valkyries” could be improved upon—or at least would not be marred—if it were redone using heavy metal guitar riffs?

Epic metal may be for you.

I discovered this genre not too long ago—in fact, it was one of the gentlemen whom I accompanied to the Christcore show a while back who introduced it to me. Looking more into it, apparently what put the “epic” into epic metal are several elements. Traditionally, epic metal focuses on fantastic stories, the kinds of “epic” stories you might expect when thinking of anything from Gilgamesh or Odysseus to Beowulf, usually focusing on triumphant themes. This need not always be the case, as evidenced by the unorthodox telling of a vampire story in French band Heavenly’s Dust to Dust. Thy Majestie’s Hastings 1066, on the other hand, seems more in the normal “epic” vein.

Most bands calling themselves epic have a symphonic element, though that’s not always the case. What really impresses me about most of these bands is their dynamic range: unlike most mainstream American artists, who get stuck with one particular sound or chord progression, these guys can go from operatic chorus to lyric ballad to near-punk in a matter of one or two tracks. Sonata Arctica comes to mind.

By far the most quintessential epic metal phenomenon, though, in my humble estimation, is Nightwish. The hottest thing going in Finland [click the “Popular Music” link] right now, this band is absolutely over-the-top in every way, including talent. Lead singer Tarja Turunen is a striking and accomplished lyricist (most, though not all, of Nightwish’s songs are sung in English), classically trained (think opera). Their latest album, Once, is highly recommended.

More reviews to come!

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0192833723/thinkblogorg-20

ix.17

A little aside here about the psychology of humor. Further evidence that we were designed to be part of a larger group, viz., the church as comprising all its members in unity, in a joyous laughter of the spirit that rejoices in the love and peace of the Lord. This is why service to one another in Jesus’ name is so essential to fully experiencing God’s peace, and why when we strand ourselves apart from the church body, we become wasted and lost, listless of spirit and bedarkened of mind.

Friendship, then, encourages the mob mentality about which the writings of Mark Twain are so vehemently bitter. This is not wholly a bad thing, of course. Friends together have the courage to do that which is right and holy: for instance, two or three friends in prayerful apologetics may be more powerfully spoken and graceful. Unfortunately, this good can also be perverted and misused, as is the case with peer pressure to perform illicit acts. Just as two together can more boldly say, “Let us go and share the Gospel together!” so can they also say, “Let us go and sin together!” and be likewise emboldened.

x.18

Augustine declares he was a small point of spiritual desolation in his sins, apart as he was from God. This makes sense, I think, in a Platonic light: the more “lesser goods” (including actions) one accumulates in his soul, the less good he becomes (theologically, he becomes completely separated from God and there is no gradation here). So perhaps as sinful acts are perpetrated, the less able we are to stop, until we have exhausted our self-control and cannot do good. The closer one is to God, the more full of light and life; and vice-versa, such that Augustine could say he was among the walking dead.

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References.
Augustine, St. Confessions. Henry Chadwick, trans. ISBN 0-19-283372-3 (Paperback).

I’m feeling listless and restless tonight, but I count it a good thing. I think that means something’s healing.

I haven’t forgotten all the comments, and I’m planning to back-post tonight or tomorrow. Much appreciated, everyone.