BBC: Tiger Team Marks Twenty Years of Conflict Resolution

One of the biggest problems facing wildlife conservationists today is human-predator conflict -- not the one-sided conflict between poachers and game, but rather that of ordinary villagers faced with large carnivores that venture ever-deeper into human territory, because they have nowhere else to go, by virtue of the destruction of their natural habitats and human encroachment onto their natural lands. Often, such stand-offs result in aggressive measures on the part of the human villagers, including resurgence of poaching in areas that would otherwise not engage in such activities.

This Russian Tiger Response Team reduces the instances of aggressive retaliation by giving villages recourse -- they deal with tigers in a humane, safe, and effective way -- and have been doing so for twenty years:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/earth/hi/earth_news/newsid_9313000/9313098.stm

It's heartening to see. 

NYTimes: Gifts of Hope

As Christmas Day draws near, many last-minute shoppers are scrambling to buy the gifts they have forgotten to get. This is my public service announcement, in more ways than one -- here are some options you might consider, ones that would benefit more than just the recipient:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/19/opinion/19kristof.html?src=me&ref=general

The New Adventures of Queen Victoria: Edgar Allan Poe's Attempts at Levity

Victorian literature joke (humour me, okay?):

http://www.gocomics.com/thenewadventuresofqueenvictoria/2010/10/04/

I thought it was funny...

Unintentional Humor at the Chinese Supermarket, Part II

One of the first things my family did, upon arrival in Los Angeles, was go to a Chinese supermarket and buy a week's worth of food. My sister and I wandered off after a while, and this is what we found:

This was in the cosmetics aisle. It says, if you can't quite make out the blurry lettering, "Smash Fixer". Well, if your face just got smashed, I'm not sure a pot of powder or whatever would do you much good.

This isn't so much Chinglish as just a "huh?" moment. It's like saying to someone, "Don't throw kiwis at stop signs", when the addressee is neither outdoors nor in possession of kiwis. Or something.

I am told by my sister, who is learning Spanish, that "bonita" means "pretty". The sign was on a display of rather unexceptional dead fish.

Only Asians would package dried mushrooms in flower-festooned cardboard boxes.

These are durians. They smell really bad, but actually taste pretty good. They also look like abnormally large hedgehogs. We were amused.

I'm not sure if crackers that are "cheerful" seem any more appetizing than crackers that are glum, or annoyed, or indifferent. Maybe they meant... cheer-inducing crackers? Errr...

Asian supermarkets seem to favor consistently poor choices of adjectives. "Silky" is no more palatable than "cheerful" -- perhaps less so.

Umm...  "idiot" steak?

Well. It appeared to be body wash (or at least, it was in the section labeled as such).

Panda milk seems a little too exotic, not to mention, illegal.

And this is a watering can. Cute, if disturbingly so.

Sonnet 130 (by William Shakespeare)

I haven't posted any poetry in a while, so here's some more Shakespeare. This is another one of my all-time favorite sonnets:

The 1609 Quarto Version

My Miſtres eyes are nothing like the Sunne,
Currall is farre more red, then her lips red,
If ſnow be white, why then her breſts are dun:
If haires be wiers, black wiers grow on her head:
I haue ſeene Roſes damaskt, red and white,
But no ſuch Roſes ſee I in her cheekes,
And in ſome perfumes is there more delight,
Then in the breath that from my Miſtres reekes.
I loue to heare her ſpeake,yet well I know,
That Muſicke hath a farre  more pleaſing found:
I graunt I neuer ſaw a goddeſſe goe,
My Miſtres when ſhee walkes treads on the ground.
    And yet by heauen I thinke my loue as rare,
    As any ſhe beli'd with falſe compare.

And a modernized version, with the typesetting and spelling "cleaned up" a bit:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
     And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
     As any she belied with false compare.

At first glance, it reads as though the Bard is complaining about his mistress's rather plain looks -- but upon closer inspection, the poem is really about love in spite of, or in acknowledgment of, one's beloved's flaws. It's about love as acceptance of all of another person, not just the appealing parts. Everyone has a dark side, however small or non-apparent. Love that embraces that dark side is love with eyes wide open, a truer love than the rose-tinted infatuation that poets are so inclined to extol. Such is a love I would wish for myself.

NYTimes: Senate Repeals "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"

A major victory for civil rights -- on the order of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, some have said:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/19/us/politics/19cong.html?_r=1&ref=global-home

At long last, military honor. It's something to celebrate this season.

Knitting over Winter Break

The last batch of yarn, barring any major catastrophes:

I bought the four skeins directly above the half-finished scarf two days ago; the others are from a while back. I plan to finish seven scarves over break, which will cover the rest of the friends I plan to give them to when we get back to school. I have about eighteen days. I don't think it's unreasonable, given the (admittedly short) plane rides and (longer) car rides ahead.

I'm also, if there's some yarn left over (and there should be!), thinking of knitting something small and eminently practical for my father.

Nationalism

I've spent the past quarter studying, in part, the development and evolution of nations in various classes. One of the recurring themes that really struck me was just how easy it was to get the masses to subscribe to, kill in the name of, fight and die for, an idea. On many occasions, it was the concept of the nation -- whether it was a piece of land or an ethnic group or a shared history. And then I found this quotation, which explains a whole lot:

Nationalist pride, like other variants of pride, can be a substitute for self-respect.

~ Eric Hoffer

It because many people want something to believe in, something to belong to, some higher purpose; we see it all the time with religious zealots and political extremists (the two often overlap). The nation is another such concept. People, I believe, can be good, or can think themselves good, if given even the slimmest chance to elevate their position. Nationalism is one such outlet.

There is such a thing as healthy nationalism, moderate and rational nationalism. It is only when people depend too much upon that one belief, when it becomes all that they live for, when they place all their hopes and dreams in it, that it becomes a vicious, dangerous force. Fanatics are the most dangerous sort of enemy, because they believe wholeheartedly that they are right, that they are defenders of the cause, that anyone who disagrees is mistaken at best, and evil at worst -- they are not easily dislodged by minor setbacks or lost battles. They become one with their purpose, so to speak, and are destroyed, heart and soul, with the defeat of their cause. It is a law of the nature to fight against one's own destruction, and laws of nature are more powerful than the laws of man.

NYTimes: Centuries-Old Rifles See Use in Afghanistan

Apologies for disappearing for a week; finals happened. Anyhow...

I've always had a certain fascination with antique weaponry. My area of interest lies more in pre-modern weaponry (before guns, or at least, not much later than the arquebus), but this is pretty interesting:

http://atwar.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/12/10/rifles-of-advanced-age-remain-in-use-in-afghanistan

They're using Civil War-era rifles! And they still work!

And the Martini-Henries! I'm sad, though not especially surprised, that they've fallen into such disrepair, though. Old rifles (of the Civil War era) tend to be finicky to maintain, I've heard, if they actually see use.

And the comment at the end about firearms and ammunition being a system is very true -- you see it in ballistae and their bolts, too, though of course, ballistae bolts are easier to modify to fit.

Frank, Wendy, and Sarah's Epic One-Act Opera

Soprano: I love you!
Tenor: You're dying of tuberculosis -- how can you hit those high notes?!?!
Soprano: By George, I am! *dies*
Tenor: Alas! *flails* I will have vengeance!
Baritone Sidekick: On tuberculosis?

(Five points for spotting the wordplay.)

Camera Mounted on a Peregrine Falcon

I would recommend skipping this one if you have severe motion sickness.



One of my dearest childhood wishes was to be able to fly, under my own power. I loved the Daedalus and Icarus (or more properly, Daidalos and Ikaros) story. I used to try to fashion wings for myself, out of cardboard, popsicle sticks, Halloween faerie wings, whatever else I could find. I can imagine -- almost remember -- my father being tolerantly amused (he had been an engineer, once upon a time), and my mother rolling her eyes and cleaning up the messes that must have ensued.

I wish I could show my five-year-old self this video.

NYTimes: A Hundred Ways to Be a Frog

A very interesting slice-of-life article about herpetologists (I love that word!):

 http://scientistatwork.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/28/a-hundred-ways-to-be-a-frog/

I would wager that the title is a reference to the Wallace Stevens poem "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird". Stevens is one of my favorite open-form poets; I don't generally like open-form, but he is proof that it can be done extremely well.

BBC: Runway Opens at World's First Spaceport

This happened a little over a month ago, so it's not exactly breaking news, but considering I was... otherwise engaged for the duration (which sometimes feels like I was cryogenically suspended for all of November), I think I can be excused a little bit of news-lag. Anyhow, this is really awesome:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-11611630

I've been following the exploits of Virgin Galactic and its fellows for a while now, and hoping that they will eventually achieve more than charging a few rich guys a ridiculous (though, I suppose, not terribly unreasonable) sum for a few hours of spaceflight. This gives me hope that these companies have more to them -- that they'll contribute to building the awesome, scifi future we've all dreamed of. Or maybe just the nerds like me.

NYTimes: Pompeii -- Archaeologists' Dream, Conservationists' Failure

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming:

This is scary. Really scary. For a historian and a (lapsed) Latin student, and an avid museum-goer, the idea of such artifacts, such a goldmine of Roman archaeology, being destroyed simply because of human incompetence and negligence, is a travesty:

http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/11/30/another-collapse-at-pompeii-renews-calls-for-better-care

I want to go to Pompeii sometime. I've never been, and I hope that by the time the opportunity arises, it won't be too late.

I won National Novel Writing Month!

30 days, 50071 words written, 6 scarves knitted. It's been quite the adventure.

(There are more than six scarves here, but two of them are unfinished, and three of them are from October, if you remember the last picture.)

It was awesome. It was absolutely worth all the sleep deprivation, all the stress, all the time spent holed up in my room pounding away at the keyboard at ungodly hours. The community was amazing, both my class here at Stanford and the online community that sprang up around the forums and chatrooms as everyone raced towards 50K.

And I actually rather like my novel this year! I haven't really gone back to the other two 50K+ NaNo novels I've written, simply because I didn't think they were really worth editing. (Well, that's not strictly true; I did edit one of them extensively, or tried to, but hit a wall about halfway through -- I think I got through seven or so chapters -- and decided that it just wasn't good enough.) This year's... we'll see. I like it, still, after spending a month wrangling with it, so I think it has some small glimmer of promise.

Anyhow, for those interested, my stats page and user info are here: http://www.nanowrimo.org/user/127574. You'll notice the few days towards the end when I pulled all-nighters and pounded out about 6000 words a day. Worth it, all of it, even so. Don't ask about the plateaus in weeks two and three.

Time to catch up on everything -- work, reading, friends, sleep, life. Same time next year, folks!

Thanksgiving

A short piece I wrote just now, in honor of the holiday:

On this day, out of all the year,
I think of all that I hold dear:
For songs I've sung and books I've read,
For those with whom I've broken bread,
For new friends made and old friends kept,
For times I laughed and times I wept,
For things I've learned and things I've found:
In life, in self, mundane, profound;
For beauty, love, and all good things,
I give my thanks for all life brings.

Happy Thanksgiving, folks!

Bulbous Bouffant

One of my NaNoWriMo classmates showed this to us a week or two ago -- maybe it's because we were so burned out after typing away for hours, but we found it very entertaining in a spacey, surreal way:



I often find that if I say a word many times, it starts to sound strange and somehow incorrect to my ears. And some words are just irrationally funny-sounding if you really think about them. Or maybe I've been writing for way too long.

If I Used Twitter

last night's status would have been:

re-upholstering a couch, knitting like a fiend, and blasting Bach's St. Matthew Passion.

That is all.

Chris Baty at Stanford

My NaNoWriMo class has evening workshops every Tuesday, and this week, Chris Baty (founder of NaNoWriMo) came to dinner with us! He told us the story of how NaNoWriMo became what it is, and I got him to sign my copy of No Plot, No Problem!, and we did word sprints, (not necessarily in that order) and it was fun times for all.

And then, lo and behold, we were written up in the Office of Letters and Light blog (OLL is the organization that encompasses NaNoWriMo and Script Frenzy.):

http://blog.lettersandlight.org/post/1536511865/nanowrimo-takes-stanford-by-storm

I'm all the way in the back in the picture, so you can barely see it's me.

Happy Armistice Day!

Today is the 92nd anniversary of the end of the Great War, which is now celebrated as Armistice Day, and also Veterans' Day. It is also (as a result) Polish Independence Day.

World War I was, for Europe, what World War II was for the United States. It was devastating, brutal, and tremendously inefficient trench warfare, where people were gassed en masse and mere inches of ground were gained at the price of thousands of deaths. Europe went into the second World War decades later with this legacy in mind, with a sort of stoicism and resignation that the Americans didn't quite understand. (Battle of Britain, anyone?)

Anyways, happy Armistice Day.

It's over 9000!

My wordcount, that is.

I only very recently learned about the etymology of that particular internet meme, and just now have a singular opportunity in which to employ the phrase. I am amused. :)

Happy Guy Fawkes Night!

To all you pyromaniacs out there (given the friends I have, there have got to be some pyros), a very merry Bonfire Night to you.

Seeing as the United States haven't been colonies for well over two centuries, we don't really celebrate Guy Fawkes Night out here. But we should, because bonfires are awesome, and so are fireworks and toffee apples. Also, that particular succession crisis (that entire century or so was practically one big succession crisis) was very interesting, especially since it was spiced with religious conflict and ethnic tensions. And explosives.

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot, 
I know of no reason 
Why the Gunpowder Treason 
Should ever be forgot.

NaNoWriMo

starts now. My posting will probably be much less frequent this coming month, since I'll be spending most of my "free" time typing like a madwoman. And knitting scarves.

That is all -- I have a novel to write. Happy All Hallow's!

Edit: I've added a widget to the sidebar so that interested parties can track my wordcount in realtime. ("Aethyr" is my username on the NaNoWriMo website.)

Christmas Knitting

So I've decided to knit a bunch of my Stanford friends scarves for the holidays -- enough of them that I started in October. I went to buy more yarn with Julie yesterday, and I think I'll need to make another yarn run in a few weeks. Here's (me with) eleven skeins of yarn and three finished scarves:

I've been getting some of my patterns off of this website; it's particularly useful because each entry provides both the full stitch notation and pictures. If you knit, it's a wonderful resource.

I can't wait until I get to give these to people in two months or so!

BBC: Jane Austen's Style Might Not Be Hers

Frank sent me this article last week:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-11610489

As much as it bursts a childhood bubble (Authors are crazy geniuses! Which, come to think of it, is still mostly true for some authors.), I know that most art, most literature, doesn't happen in a vacuum. And having been on the inside, as it were, I've seen just how much (or little, if the author's really good) editing goes into the making of a book. I shouldn't be so surprised that a lot of editing went into Austen's books.

Except, well, I am. I've always thought of her as one of those pioneering women in the arts world, for all that her writing is somewhat the "chick lit of the Regency era". It comes as a bit of a shock to my inner high school English student that her (male) editor had such a hand in making Pride and Prejudice or Persuasion what they are.

NYTimes: Having a Sister Makes You Happier

A very interesting New York Times article I found today:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/26/health/26essay.html?_r=1&src=me&ref=homepage

More technical details on the study:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/family/5089197/Having-a-sister-makes-you-happier-and-more-optimistic-say-psychologists.html

I have (for the few of you who don't know this) a younger sister. I can attest to the truth of the conclusion. We used to fight like cats and dogs, when we were much younger (I was about twelve, and she was about six); but as we grew older, we found that we understand each other as few others do. She does make me happier, and the one downside to going to school so far from home is that I don't see her as often as I would like.

I don't tell you this enough, Celine: I love you. I hope you knew this already.

Cats => Croissants

Wendy sent me this a few days ago. Very surreal, very amusing:



Isn't it awesome? My friends are amazing. (Not just for the cat videos, but they certainly don't hurt!)

Today

is the 271st anniversary of the beginning of the War of Jenkin's Ear, which is possibly the strangest-ever name for a war that I've ever encountered. I shouldn't be amused, because a sailor's ear (Capt. Robert Jenkins of the Rebecca) was sliced off by his Spanish counterpart (Capt. Julio León Fandiño of the coast guard), but it's a little too ridiculous not to laugh.

Of course, that was merely the instigating incident, much as the assassination of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand was the spark, but not the underlying cause of the first World War. It was mostly a conflict between two colonial powers for control of the high seas and trading rights.

BBC: Background Noise Affects Taste of Foods

I fly (in airplanes) a lot. I have to, considering that I go to school in California and live in New York, not to mention that our debate league consists of mostly East Coast schools. One thing I've noticed about air travel is the general disappointment that is airplane food. The BBC has an explanation:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-11525897

It's not that airlines don't try -- some of them try way too hard, hence the salt overloading -- but it's just a natural phenomenon. Good to know!

The New Yorker: Einstein Tries to Park His Car in New York

A clever Einstein joke:

http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/10/11/cartoons_20101004#slide=4

I'm a fan of science humour (xkcd, anyone?). Also, I read a lot of Freeman J. Dyson in middle school. (Me, a nerd?)

NYTimes: A Planet, Just Discovered, May Be Inhabitable

Huzzah for scifi-evoking awesomeness!

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/30/science/space/30planet.html?hpw

I believe there's life out there -- we just haven't found it yet (see the Drake equation). This, the discovery of an inhabitable planet, is one step closer.

Pax Vobiscum

My roommate, Wendy, and I were discussing valedictions to formal letters, and I mentioned that I'm in the habit of signing off with "Pax vobiscum", or simply "Pax" (meaning "Peace be with you" and "Peace", respectively, in Latin). I thought that perhaps I should vary it a bit. With minimal Googling, I found the following site, which lists the translations for "peace" in practically every (written) language out there:

http://www.columbia.edu/~fdc/pace/

I'm aware that "Pax vobiscum" is most often encountered within the Catholic Church, where it has the connotation of wishing God's grace and protection upon the recipient, a benediction, of sorts. It need not be imbued with any religious meaning, as the words themselves are purely secular. Latin in itself was not originally a religious language -- unlike, say, Hebrew.

R.I.P. Dame Joan Sutherland

The famed Australian soprano Joan Sutherland passed away yesterday:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/12/arts/music/12sutherland.html?_r=1&hpw

She was one of the titans of the operatic world during the height of the bel canto school. Early in her career, in the 1960s, she was nicknamed "La Stupenda" by Venician audiences who were blown away by her rendition of the Handel opera "Alcina". She went on to portray a number of the most famous Bellini heroines, and is also credited with boosting the career of one Luciano Pavarotti (he surely needs no introduction), who was then a promising young tenor just setting out in the opera world; she later recorded with him one of the authoritative versions of Puccini's Turandot.

Anyhow, I have some of her recorded work, and it's absolutely brilliant. I never, unfortunately, had the opportunity to see her on stage, and now I never will.

She will be greatly missed.

The Onion: Historians Admit to Inventing Ancient Greeks

My thanks to Lewis for sending this to me; The Onion is great!

http://www.theonion.com/articles/historians-admit-to-inventing-ancient-greeks,18209/?utm_source=recentnews

I'm a huge fan of classical history, so I find this especially funny. I can't imagine the actual undertaking of creating this sort of cultural richness; it would be like Tolkien x 100!

I wouldn't be surprised if some people got it in their heads to actually believe all this was fabricated though, like the people who think that dinosaur fossils were planted by God or something.

The Rabbit Panther High-Speed Internet Commercial

Brett showed this to me a few weeks ago; it's an advertisement, but also an exercise in absurdity:



...

I noticed that the tags on this post are basically the same as the ones on the last video, minus "cute". (I don't find hairless rabbit-panthers cute, myself...) I don't think I've any more funny animal videos in the queue, though, so it's not becoming a trend, never fear.

Edit (10/25/10): About animal videos not becoming a trend... http://sarahsmiscellany.blogspot.com/2010/10/cats-croissants.html. Yeah...

NYTimes: Waiter, There's Soup in My Bug

Speaking of insects:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/22/dining/22bug.html?hpw

(I first noticed this article for its title. Go figure.)

This story is amusing to me because I've eaten my fair share of insects (silkworms and waterbugs, and some other bugs for which I don't know the English name). Silkworms are actually really tasty.

I find it interesting and rather illogical that most of the Americans I know are squeamish about meats outside of their normal poultry, pig, and cow. What is so special about these particular species? If it's just an issue of emotional attachment or specific associations, would you eat, say, a dog or a cat you did not know, of a breed you had never previously encountered? If it's a matter of hygiene, would you eat a mouse that had been cleared of diseases and thoroughly disinfected prior to cooking and eating?

I don't subscribe to any food taboos; I'll try anything once. Hey, I'm Asian. :)

MSNBC: New Species from New Guinea

And this is why conservation matters:

http://cosmiclog.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2010/10/05/5235675-new-species-from-new-guinea?GT1=43001

 I especially like the "bug with bugged-out pink eyes". It's actually kind of pretty, in a bright, insectoid sort of way.

NYTimes: The Rise of the 3-D Printers

This looks awesome:

http://bits.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/09/29/the-rise-of-the-3-d-printers/?ref=technology

The concept of 3-D printing verges on science fiction; the thought of this technology becoming widely available within my lifetime is incredible.

Also, Maker Fair looks like a whole lot of fun. I've always wanted to go to one, but never seem to be in the right place at the right time.

One Idea for a Novel

This is what I'll be writing about next month:

A boy accidentally strangles a horse with a monstrous vine, and has to figure out where in his muddled ancestry the vine came from, and why.

Cat + iPad

It's so cute!



*squee*

Today is World Animal Day, and the Feast Day of St. Francis of Assisi

It's pretty self-explanatory: it's basically a day to spread awareness of conservation efforts and animal rights, observed by a variety of organizations (such as animal shelters, wildlife conservation groups, schools, churches, &c.) as well as individuals from all walks of life.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Animal_Day

Interestingly enough, it is no coincidence that today is also the feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi, the much-beloved Italian monk who founded the monastic order that bears his name, and who is the patron saint of animals, nature, and the environment at large. He's another of my favorite saints; I tend to prefer the ones, I find, who did great and charitable works out of compassion and love, rather than merely being martyred for their conviction in their faith. (The exception would be saints who had particularly witty last words; see St. Lawrence.)

NYTimes: A Bible Reference, Hidden in a Computer Virus, Provides Clues to Origins

This sounds like something out of a Dan Brown novel:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/30/world/middleeast/30worm.html?_r=1&src=me&ref=homepage

The concept of calling cards (in this case, the sort left by a criminal, rather those of a Victorian houseguest) has always both irked and fascinated me.  It's a terribly foolhardy move on the part of the hacker -- which is, I suppose the point of hacker bravado -- but also very interesting in that it's a much more sophisticated form of terrorism, specifically the claiming of a criminal act by a certain cause. It's a message and an act of war (well, pseudo-war), all in one.

So long as they don't start with Bible codes and whatnot.

The New Yorker: Namesake

http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/10/04/cartoons_20100927#slide=9

I am amused.

Strangeness

I find this a particularly apt sentiment:

There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.

~ Francis Bacon

We so often endeavour to attain perfection for ourselves and that which we hold dear; inevitably, all parties fall short of the mark, and therein lies dissatisfaction and despair. We are, after all, only human.

Accordingly, I strive for coherence, for completeness of being and richness of experience, rather than for perfection. I am, every day, honing the many pieces of me, that they might coalesce as a greater, deeper, and more beautiful whole than they were the day before. They, and I, need not be perfect -- only better.

This is a reminder, for whomever needs reminding, to take us as we are, as we shall be, rather than as you might wish we were. This is also a reminder, to all the strange, wonderful, imperfect people I know -- you are beautiful.

I am reminded, also, of the poem "Pied Beauty" by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Go read it; it's lovely.

Three Ideas for a Novel

Narrowing nine ideas down to three:

2. A boy accidentally strangles a horse with a monstrous vine, and has to figure out where in his muddled ancestry the vine came from, and why.

3. A genius hermit discovers a way to talk to dead people, and can’t handle all the living people who want to talk to him about it.
6. Two assassins are hired to kill a god.

NYTimes: Designing Your Own Wallpaper

I really want to do something like this when I get my own place someday:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/15/technology/personaltech/15basics.html?src=me&ref=technology

I think it would be fun to essentially design my own wallpaper.  I've been thinking of some things that might be awesome:

• A map of the world. I'd put little stickers, or pushpins, or something, on all the places I've visited. I love traveling -- I love exploring all the history and art and architecture, the cultural relics of centuries past (You can probably tell from the Italy posts.).
• An underwater scene. It would be like having an enormous aquarium, only lower-maintenance and more practical (especially since certain beautiful species of fish are rather difficult to keep alive at home, not to mention that certain species don't get along with other species, or members of the same sex of the same species, &c.).  I am a huge fan of anything colorful or shiny that swims around (if I had one of those aquarium screensavers, I'm sure my productivity would plummet).
• A lakeside scene. Something along the lines of a 山水画, which is a specifically Chinese kind of painting (well, the Japanese have something like it too, but it was mostly borrowed from the Chinese). There's no good translation for it that quite captures the complete meaning of the phrase; the literal meaning is "mountain water picture". It's a particularly peaceful sort of landscape painting that I rather like. 
• The sky. I would love to wallpaper a ceiling with a picture of the sky -- perhaps a sunny blue sky with clouds and kites, or a rich sunset, or (if it wouldn't darken the room too much) a night sky with glow-in-the-dark stars -- not the plastic, five-pointed stick-on kind, but stars as seen by the human eye. I know it's not really the done thing to have ceilings of any color but white, but it would be awesome. (Unlike the other ideas, stars could be painted onto a monochromatic black or blue ceiling, but not with the same accuracy. And I'd have to stick the moon up there anyhow.)

Note to self: reread this blog entry in a few years.

Unintentional Humor at the Chinese Supermarket

A number of photographs I've taken of humorous Chinglish at Chinese supermarkets:

When I think "picnic", I'm expecting something along the lines of ham and cheese, not giant slabs of pork...

It sounds like a squid-skinning competition. Do squids even have skins?

Umm... they're heads, but not sheep heads. I Wikipedia'ed it, thinking perhaps "sheep head" might be the colloquial name for a type of fish, but it turns out it's a Wisconsin card game. Right.

Perhaps the oddest one of all... I can't tell if they're Canadian (are American snails any different from Canadian ones?), but they certainly aren't lobsters!

The New Adventures of Queen Victoria: Her Majesty Discovers YouTube

I was highly amused:

http://www.gocomics.com/thenewadventuresofqueenvictoria/2010/08/18/

http://www.gocomics.com/thenewadventuresofqueenvictoria/2010/08/19/

My sister and I have both of these songs memorized. We're an odd family, we know.

Nine Ideas for a Novel

This quarter, I'm taking a creative writing class on NaNoWriMo (that is, National Novel Writing Month). It's exactly what it says: in November, we will be writing 50,000 words of fiction, which is the lower bound for the acceptable length of a novel (though nowadays, that's usually considered a novella).

I've done this thrice in the past, and have "won" twice. (Winning is merely hitting 50,000 by the end of the month; there's no compensation except for the satisfaction of having written.) So for all of you who think I'm a really harsh editor, trust me, I've been in your shoes.

Anyhow, for class, we are supposed to blog about the process, our stories, &c. To wit, the first assignment:

Nine Ideas for a Novel:

1. A girl is kidnapped by an prodigal angel and must find her way out of the seven circles of Hell.
   
2. A boy accidentally strangles a horse with a monstrous vine, and has to figure out where in his muddled ancestry the vine came from, and why.
3. A genius hermit discovers a way to talk to dead people, and can't handle all the living people who want to talk to him about it.
4. A priest has to save the world from a god whom nobody believes is evil.
5. Decades after a bloody civil war, a monk who has been hiding all the records reveals that the war didn't happen the way everyone thinks it did.
6. Two assassins are hired to kill a god.
7. There is a room that runs the world, and one of the people in it wants to destroy the world, but nobody knows which one it is.
8. A boy is kidnapped by the pirate captain of a magic carpet, and steals the captain's genie.
9. An airship cadet is convinced his classmate was murdered by international agents, and tries to find out why.

What do you think?

NYTimes: A Straddling Bus to Alleviate China's Congestion Problems

My father first showed me a picture of this new vehicle from a Chinese newspaper; this is The New York Times's article on the subject:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/18/business/global/18bus.html

I really like the idea; it looks odd (not that that's a problem -- I actually rather like the design), but it's an innovative and tremendously efficient use of space. We should have these back home.

BBC: Cannibal Star Consumes Neighbor

When I saw the title, I had to click on it.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-11313601

Basically, one star devours another star that got too close. Very interesting, especially since it's not just a matter of the cannibalistic star getting bigger; it also absorbed some of the properties of the smaller one, to the point where scientists weren't sure whether the new dual-star was an old one, or a larger new one.

I miss astronomy sometimes (I live it vicariously by reading science books). I once took a class on it in middle school, and it was one of the best summers ever.

NYTimes: The Dutch Pioneer an Airport Library

One of the very sad trends of today is that fewer people seem to be reading, what with all the other forms of entertainment readily available. Some of the recent e-book innovations (like the Kindle) and blockbuster franchises (like Harry Potter) have helped, but overall, libraries are noting a downturn in patronage and bookstores a decrease in sales. We have to come up with new ways to get people to read, much as many other aspects of life have evolved. One previously underexploited population is the commuter -- not the daily commuter who spends half-an-hour on the train, but the distance commuter who often has plenty of time to kill in the airport. Enter the airport library:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/16/arts/16iht-library.html?ref=global-home

It's a really good idea, methinks. Of course, we shall have to see whether the net loss of books becomes a problem. Two things to consider:

1. A lending library system with locations at many major international airports. People going on longer journeys may forget about a book entirely during their trip, and probably wouldn't remember to return it at their airport of departure when they finally made it back there. But most people, I think, can finish a paperback of reasonable length during an international flight, and it would be much more convenient if they could drop off the book at a different branch when they get off the plane, rather than bring it with them on their return trip.

2. A system for e-book lending. A lot of people have e-book readers nowadays, and a lot of people bring their readers when they travel, because it's easier than carting around a stack of books in their luggage. Such systems already exist in many library systems; it shouldn't be too hard to adapt that technology to an airport library. I can imagine some system of lending periods corresponding to the duration of flights or trips.

I think this is an excellent concept, and I can't wait to see a library in JFK or SFO one of these days!

Italy Travelogue, Part 3: Vatican City

If you're ever in Rome, the Vatican is definitely worth seeing. It'll take a day, at least, but do go. It's chock-full of centuries of artwork and architecture, and not all of it is Catholic; some of the most famous classical sculptures are there. The pièce de résistance, of course, is the Sistine Chapel; disappointingly, but understandably, we were not allowed to photograph it. We did take pictures of lots of other things...

The Vatican Museums are home to some of the greatest artistic treasures in the world. Exhibit A -- Here's the marble of Laocoön and sons being strangled by Athena's sea serpents, the one that Pliny the Elder wrote about (Yes, I took Latin in high school, why do you ask?), one of the most celebrated statues from antiquity:


The story goes, Laocoön was a Trojan priest of Poseidon, who was in Poseidon's bad books because he took a wife and sired children (this is relevant only because his terrible luck and grisly death is sometimes attributed to the god's displeasure). Anyhow, he was one of the few Trojans who suspected that the Trojan horse was a ruse, and proposed that they set it on fire. Athena summoned a pair of giant snakes to strangle him and his sons. The Trojans then assumed that the horse was sacred (and that anyone who dared to harm it would meet a similarly nasty end), and so they brought the horse into Troy. I'm not sure who had it worse, Laocoön or Cassandra.

We also saw Raphael's even more famous The School of Athens:


This is often considered to be not only Raphael's finest piece, but also the very spirit of the Renaissance in painted form. The term itself, "Renaissance", means "rebirth", and the great artists and thinkers of the Renaissance felt a deep intellectual kinship with their Greco-Roman peers. It is only fitting that the spirit of the era is captured as Greek institution.

I had fun squinting up at it and trying to identify all the people in the painting, but I didn't get very far. The two figures in the middle (under the central arch) are Plato and Aristotle, in the red and blue mantles, respectively. Plato is supposed to be modeled on Leonardo da Vinci (and with that beard, I can see the resemblance). Michelangelo is in the middle on the bottom step (purple shirt and red pants, with his elbow on a box, looking bored), as a Greek painter (what else) of some importance. Raphael painted himself in, too, though I didn't find him until we got home. He's in the upper right, where the bottom of the arch meets the top of the pillar, next to the old man in the green cloak (he's wearing red and purple, too).

Fast-forwarding several centuries in art history, we come to Canova's Perseus, who is depicted in the style of the classical hero (read: naked), holding up the head of his slain foe (Medusa). Here he is:


I thought he looked rather familiar, and that's because he is. Canova made another Perseus, which is almost identical, and that one resides in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, so I've seen it before.

Canova's Perseus is one of the few post-Renaissance marbles to be exhibited so prominently in the Vatican Museums, and rightly so. He sculpted Perseus in the tail end of the Baroque era, when everything was excessively embellished (to the point of seeming nauseatingly garish), and manages to capture the hero triumphant, simple and clothed in little besides his own achievement.

The Vatican Museums also house a collection of artifacts of non-European antiquity. They have an excellent Egyptian wing, and also one with Near Eastern art. My sister and I were much amused to find, in the Assyrian section, this piece:


It's Birdman! (My sister is a better bird(wo)man than I am, I know; I have a terrible poker face.)

It's one of many long-standing points of reference for us. She currently attends the same middle school I did, and one of our favorite teachers is the inimitable Ms. Springer, archaeologist and historian extraordinare, who taught us sixth grade history. (She did a wonderful job of it, too; I was immensely surprised to find, in my Ancient Empires course reader, a passage from "Wen-Amon Goes to Phoenicia", which we read in sixth grade.)

Birdman was one of the most memorable characters from our Assyria unit. I still remember taking a field trip to the Met to see him; I thought he was enormous, back then. I spotted him in the Vatican all these years later, and we couldn't resist.

Of course, no trip to the Vatican is complete without a visit to St. Peter's Basilica. The lines were not as terrible as we'd feared (thank goodness!), and the inside was every bit as spectacularly grand as we'd imagined. I made a beeline for Michelangelo's most famous Pietà:


You'll have to click on it to get a closer view, and even then, it's still quite small; I was pressed up against the plexiglas wall, but I was still about a dozen feet away from it. Apparently, some crazy person tried to attack it with a hammer, and ended up chipping off Mary's nose, and so they won't let anyone get anywhere near it anymore. (Something similar happened to the David (who lost a few toes), and so there's a plexiglas shield around him, too.)

One of the first things anyone notices about the work is that Mary looks incredibly young. There's some debate about why this is; we know that Michelangelo made her deliberately so. Some say that it's an indication of her purity and favor with God; others say that she's actually supposed to be a young mother, and that she's holding her baby and having a premonition of her son's fate.

On the subject of Pietàs, I edited the Florence part to include some pictures from the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo that I oddly couldn't find the first time around, so scroll down if you're interested in one of Michelangelo's other Pietàs.

Well, that's Italy. It was a lot of fun (and a historian/erstwhile Latin student's dream). There was plenty we didn't get to see this time around, so I'd definitely want to go back sometime in the future!

Driver's License

I got one today. (Or rather, a temporary receipt that suffices until the real thing arrives in the mail.)

That is all.

Italy Travelogue, Part 2: Rome

Rome is big. Not quite as big as New York (what is?), but after Florence, Rome seemed huge. Of course, it was the place to be (in Europe, at least) for several centuries, way before any of the other major metropolises even existed. We procured four Roma Passes, which are designed for tourists and include discounts to major attractions (museum tickets are expensive!) and free public transit, valid for three consecutive days.

Four days in Rome was definitely not enough (especially since one of them was spent outside of Rome, technically, in the Vatican). Unlike Florence, which rose to prominence in the Middle Ages, Rome was the center of a vast empire in antiquity, and has several millennia of history on Florence. (Huzzah for Ancient Empires!)

The afternoon we get there, I drag them to see the Pantheon. (I'm a sucker for Greco-Roman mythology, but this one's really worth seeing.) It also houses the work of several Renaissance masters, as well as several of their graves, most notably that of Raphael. This is an interior view of its dome:


The Romans were really architectural geniuses, given their level of technology. It's incredible that the Pantheon survived several regime changes and wars. Of course, one of the reasons it wasn't quarried for marble or anything was that it was converted to a church in honor of the Virgin Mary and assorted Christian martyrs. It stands in stark contrast to many of the temples in the Roman Forum (dating from the days of the Republic) and the later Imperial fora; most of those now lie in ruins, much of their marble facing carted off to adorn other facades. Even so, the Roman Forum is well worth seeing. Here is a photograph of the Temple of Romulus:


This was one of the most intact of the temples in the Forum (and indeed, in all of Rome), mostly because it was converted to a church, that of the saints Cosmas and Damian, two Greek brothers, to stand in stark contrast to the Temple of Castor and Pollux, also in the Forum. This is, unfortunately, all that's left of the latter:


Freestanding monuments and buildings not constructed of marble were also generally in better repair; take, for instance, this photograph of the northwestern corner of the Forum:


In the middle of the picture is the Arch of Septimus Severus, commemorating the emperor's victories against the Parthians. He was a strong leader and a military man, which was good for Rome, given the corruption and political disunity of the preceding reigns. He also sponsored numerous public works, among which were several arches like this one.

The brownish building on the right (the one with three windows above its main entrance) is the Curia Julia, the Senate building built by (somewhat ironically) Julius Caesar. (He never saw it in its current form, as it was completed during the reign of Augustus.) The height of its ceiling is particularly impressive from the inside.

While I'm at it, here's another Augustan monument:


My sister and I are standing in front of the Ara Pacis (English: Altar of Peace). It was built by the Senate on the occasion of Augustus's subjugation of Gaul and Hispania, to celebrate the Pax Augusta, the peace that the emperor brought about by uniting various far-flung European peoples under imperial rule. My father, when I explained the altar's history, aptly remarked that Augustus was rather like the first Qin (秦) Emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang (秦始皇), who unified China. (Personally, I think Augustus was a lot friendlier. Also, Augustus's overall geopolitical achievement was probably somewhat less impressive, given that he was building upon Julius Caesar's successful military campaigns, whereas the Qin Emperor had to conquer the other six Chinese states, which were more or less equal in power to his at the start of his campaigns. Not to say that Augustus wasn't awesome, because he was.)

We also spent an afternoon at the Capitoline Museum, where there is a great glass-roofed hall housing some remarkable and historic bronzes. This one is the very famous equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, the only such statue of a pre-Christian emperor still in existence. It survived the Christian fanaticism of the Middle Ages mainly because it was thought to depict the Christian Constantine; this sort of imperial statue was quite common in the Roman Empire, but all the others were melted down.


It's greenish because it used to be prominently displayed on a pedestal outdoors, but then people moved it inside and put up a replica instead, because of precipitation damage.

This one, from the same hall, is the equally well-known bronze of the Capitoline Wolf, with Romulus and Remus as suckling infants:


Its origins are still uncertain, with some art historians contending that the wolf was first cast in the Etruscan era and others (a minority) arguing that it was made in the 13th century (both parties agree that the twins were a later addition). Either way, it's an iconic sculpture in the modern consciousness, where Rome is concerned.

This is getting ridiculously long. I'll write a third post on the Vatican, and lump in the Renaissance stuff with it. Stay tuned for travelogue part 3!

Italy Travelogue, Part 1: Florence

I'm back! And as promised, highlights of the first leg of the trip:

Upon arrival in Florence, my father, my sister, and I decide to explore the neighborhood to scope out nearby sources of food and to pick up some essentials at the supermarket. We encounter a strange public service announcement spray-painted on a building. We aren't quite sure what it is all about, so we decide to take it very literally:


Anyhow, on to items of actual historical significance. These are the east doors of the Baptistery of St. John, which Michelangelo famously dubbed "the Gates of Paradise", because they are so beautiful. (They're actually a faithful replica; the real ones are in restoration.)


The first set of Ghiberti doors was actually commissioned for the north-facing entrance in a competition sponsored by the Florentine guild of wool merchants. He and Filippo Brunelleschi were tied for the commission, but Ghiberti, through sheer persistence (and Brunelleschi's temper didn't help), eventually won out. Brunelleschi swore off sculpture in a fit of spite, and took up architecture and engineering instead (and was astoundingly talented at both); he designed the famous dome of the Florentine cathedral Santa Maria Del Fiore, one of the architectural marvels of the Renaissance:


Further reading on the subject, if you're so inclined: Brunelleschi's Dome, by Ross King. It was an assigned reading for a course I took in freshman year on Renaissance machine design (the system of pulleys, cranes, and other machines that Brunelleschi created in the process of constructing his dome is quite amazing), and it's a wonderful (and short) read on its own.

We also went to the Museo dell Opera del Duomo, where the real Gates of Paradise are currently housed. That particular museum is a treasure trove of amazing works by famous Renaissance masters. Among them is the understated, somewhat mysterious Magdalene Penitent by Donatello:


It's most striking, methinks, in its depth of emotion. She's not particularly beautiful, but she's wonderfully tragic.

Also in the Museo dell Opera del Duomo is the second-most famous Michelangelo Pietà, where instead of the Virgin Mary (as is customary), he depicts Joseph of Arimathea holding the body of Jesus:


It's believed that this Joseph was actually a self-portrait; Michelangelo originally intended this sculpture to be placed at his own gravesite. It's beautiful, and unlike many of the other really famous masterpieces, there isn't any plexiglas or a ten-foot fence, so we could walk right up to it to admire it.

We saw a lot of other things, too, like the David (I trust you don't need another picture of him) and some of the Medici palaces and private chapels (some of these restricted photography, to preserve the artwork). Florence basically belonged to the Medicis during the Renaissance, so half the sites in the city from that era were Medici-related in some way.

Florence was smaller than I'd expected; given its prominence during the Renaissance, I had thought it would be much bigger. I'd forgotten that cities in general were smaller back then (comes of being a New Yorker, methinks). We could basically get everywhere on foot -- no public transportation adventures there!

Rome is next.

Blog Hiatus

My family and I are going to Italy for about ten days, leaving tomorrow, so the Miscellany is temporarily going dark. We'll be back towards the end of next week. The itinerary includes Rome and Florence, with a tentative day-trip to Siena. I'll post pictures and/or a travelogue when we return.

The earlier, very brief dearth of posts (last weekend) was due to my friend Lucas visiting New York, and because I got a new computer, which needed setting up and so forth. Here we are:


(That's me, Lucas, and Mycroft. (See, Brett, here's a picture of me!))

He's 13" (if it isn't evident from the picture), and he's named for Mycroft Holmes, of Whitehall and the Diogenes Club, the lesser-known but more important of the Holmes brothers. Sherlock Holmes was (and still is) one of my favorite action heroes from my childhood (yes, he's a mostly cerebral detective, but he's also well-versed in boxing, fencing, single-stick, and "Baritsu" (see "The Final Problem"), all of which qualify him as an action hero). I thought Mycroft's personality and function were more suited to that of a computer.

Anyhow, see you all in about two weeks!

Today

is the 168th anniversary of the Treaty of Nanking, which concluded the First Opium War, famously ceded the territory of Hong Kong to Britain.

Of course, Hong Kong was repatriated many years ago. I vaguely remember the big hoopla in 1997, when we all watched the ceremony on the television, and there was a lot of noise and celebration and dancing in choreographed patterns (it seems that every major Asian celebration includes dancing in choreographed patterns).

Looking for McGonagall, Perhaps?

The average LOLcat is pretty inane, but occasionally, they come up with really clever ones. I thought this one was quite good:


The surprised expression on the cat's face is just perfect. And it's a black cat! You know what they say about black cats!

BBC: Churchill's Butterfly Garden, 70 Years in the Making

This is a must-see, if you're ever in Britain (Kent, specifically):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-11025174

From the picture accompanying this article, the estate looks beautiful. Butterfly conservation is increasingly important in industrialized nations, and such a conservatory (with such an illustrious patron) can only aid efforts therein.

It's interesting how famous (and infamous) leaders often had such incongruous hobbies; aside from Churchill, the Emperor Hirohito would have preferred to be a marine biologist rather than an emperor (and was especially saddened by his ejection from the Royal Society), Nero famously played the harp (fiddles weren't invented yet), Henry VIII was a composer of some talent, and Marcus Aurelius is better remembered for his philosophical writings than for his statecraft.

Obama plays basketball, I hear.

NYTimes: Islam and the Two Americas

A very interesting Opinions piece on the precarious position of Islam in America:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/16/opinion/16douthat.html

It makes a very good point. America is a land of immigrants, but only to a point. We are an Anglo-normative nation, a Judeo-Christian society that prints "In God we trust" on our currency and proclaims "one nation, under God" in our pledge. Whosoever believes in a different god, or even (in this case) the same God by a different name in a different book, sometimes isn't quite American enough.

We profess to be a nation of religious freedom and cultural acceptance. We profess to have left behind our very embarrassing history of discrimination. We profess to welcome those of all colors and creeds. But in reality, with the World Trade Center mosque controversy and other instances of skittish xenophobia on the part of the white Judeo-Christian majority, we have a long ways to go towards those ideals.

At the same time, those same immigrants, being now a part of America, must also contribute to the growth process. The parties facing the steepest opposition must needs contribute the most. It is not fair, but it is necessary. It reminds me of the differences between the strategies of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X; while there is no denying that blacks should have had the same rights and freedoms as other Americans, the relevant legislation was achieved through nonviolent, costly, and arduous means. African-Americans should not have needed to do that -- they ought to have enjoyed the same rights as anyone else -- but it was necessary. Malcolm X, for all his agitation and righteous indignation, which were justified, did not achieve nearly the results that King did.

I guess it all boils down to a bit of common sense: while it is certainly within one's rights to say needlessly provocative things (to a point; see "Shouting 'Fire!' in a Crowded Theater"), it's often not beneficial to one's cause to say them (and this is a reality, no matter how one assigns the blame). What would you rather do, freely exercise your rights, or advance your cause by watching your mouth a little more carefully? The former is a Constitutionally protected right, but, in light of an unfortunate reality, it's also very selfish.

The Uncommon Reader (by Alan Bennett)

I recently read, and feel obliged to recommend, this novella:

http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780312427641

It's a really whimsical little work about the Queen of England, who develops bibliophilic tendencies late in life, and the havoc her reading habits wreak upon the government of Great Britain. (As a fellow literature enthusiast, I can definitely relate!) It reads like a faerie story for grown-ups. It was cute, but not sickeningly so, and literary (for certain definitions thereof) without being inaccessible. It's meta, self-consciously so (a book about reading!), but in a quirky, endearing way. It's a very quick read -- perfect for a subway ride.

Vienna Teng

I went to a Vienna Teng concert at the Highline Ballroom with my sister last night. It was my sister's first modern music concert (my second, my first being a Vienna performance in San Francisco).

I've been a fan of hers since Lewis introduced me to her music last quarter. Her story is very interesting and very inspiring; she's a fellow (ethnic) Chinese-American and a fellow (former) Stanford student. She majored in computer science while she attended, and worked at Cisco for two years before achieving some success as an independent musician, whereupon she quit her job (much to her family's consternation, one might imagine).

Her website: http://viennateng.com

This was her last tour, at least for now. She's going to graduate school at Michigan soon (but has reassured us that she'll continue making music, if not performing, while in school).

The Most Efficient Way to Mow a Lawn (article)

A whimsical, fun article on how to mow one's lawn in the most geometrically efficient way possible:

http://realestate.msn.com/listarticle.aspx?cp-documentid=25152485>1=35000

As was mentioned, we don't take particular care of our lawn (especially in the back), but my parents engage the local troupe of mowing-people (if there is a technical term for such, I don't know it) once a year in the spring. I wish they wouldn't; the mowing-people are rather careless with flowers, and have chopped the blooms off our daffodils every year since I've been in high school. I wouldn't mind if the yard were overgrown with weeds and wildflowers and sprawling hedges taller than I am -- I would rather enjoy the Secret Garden-esque feel of it, methinks. It's a pity my mother likes things neat, and that both my parents are afflicted with varying degrees of hayfever.