Knights vs. Snail in Medieval England

A whimsical curiosity from the British Library's medieval manuscripts blog (the librarians post some fascinating stuff -- the rest of the blog is definitely worth a peek too):

http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2013/09/knight-v-snail.html

The motif of knights fighting giant snails is apparently quite common in medieval illuminated manuscripts, though nobody knows why, or what it was supposed to have signified. (There's even snail jousting! And monkeys!) Was it all just marginalia? Bored monks -- who were only human, after all -- having a bit of fun with their transcription? Did snails moonlight as agents of Satan when not making nuisances of themselves in the monastery vegetable patches? Even among the eminent scholars at the British Library, nobody knows.

While the world of medieval archivists puzzles over this mystery, the rest of us get some Easter eggs in our manuscripts. Happy Monday, everyone!

BBC: V (for Vendetta) as a Cultural Symbol

In light of the Occupy movement's and Anonymous's adoption of the Guy Fawkes mask as a rallying image, Alan Moore, the creator of the original comic V for Vendetta writes for the BBC on the cultural cachet that the vigilante V holds in the collective consciousness:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-16968689

The tagline should be V's quotation about how he's not a man, but an idea -- and ideas never die. One of the problems that the Occupy movement, at least, will have to confront, is precisely that it's an idea, an exercise of populist sentiment. Its lack of leadership and a practical agenda might well deflate the movement. The advantage that V had is that his idea was embodied in a single person, with his own goals and vision, his own coherent plan of action. He was the figurehead, if not the de facto leader of his own revolution. Occupy doesn't have that single person, than coherency. It has the mask -- many such masks -- but not the single visionary behind it.

Because I could not stop for Death (by Emily Dickinson)

In addition to the book list, I found time over the summer for some poetry -- both revisiting old favorites and finding some new ones. I haven't posted any poetry in a long while, so I thought I'd share this one. It's pretty well known; I first read it in middle school, I think. One of the really geeky reasons I like it is that Dickinson's characterization of Death reminds me a lot of Terry Pratchett's Death, who is perhaps my favorite Discworld character. 

Because I could not stop for Death
by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Because I could not stop for Death – 
He kindly stopped for me –  
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –  
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility – 

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –  
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –  
We passed the Setting Sun – 

Or rather – He passed us – 
The Dews drew quivering and chill – 
For only Gossamer, my Gown – 
My Tippet – only Tulle – 

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground – 
The Roof was scarcely visible – 
The Cornice – in the Ground – 

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads 
Were toward Eternity – 

 The poem itself aside, there are a few small touches -- word choice, imagery, the like -- that I really enjoy in this piece. The "House that seemed / A Swelling of the Ground" is great; it makes me think of hobbit holes. I like how she says that the grain is "gazing" -- not a verb one would normally associate with plants, but it recalls both the grazing of farm animals and the classic imagery of gazing at sunsets, as per the line following. And I love, love the formatting of the last line, which ends, rather than with a period (as is conventional), but with an em-dash, like the rest of the poem. The slightly unsettling, unfinished quality lends so much more power and meaning to the concept of eternity.

Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock

The classic game, new and updated for the 23rd century:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock

I am amused.

I found this not long ago on a Wikipedia crawl (you know, where you just keep clicking on interesting links until you look up half an hour later and find that you've ended up on a page completely unrelated to the one you started with). I think I was looking at cathedrals at one point.

Edit: I am told that I am completely behind the times, and that this game is old news in the nerd (and especially the Trek) community. I can't say I'm surprised.

MSNBC: Endeavour Crew Recreates Star Trek Movie Poster

The space shuttle Endeavour embarked on its last mission four days ago (after its decommissioning, the only remaining operational shuttle of the original NASA fleet will be the Atlantis). Traditionally, every mission has a themed poster. This mission, STS-134, modeled its poster on the recent Star Trek film poster, which I think is quite fitting, and quite clever. (The inner geek (or maybe not-so-inner geek) in me just had a field day.)

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43038704/ns/technology_and_science-space/t/endeavour-crew-recreates-star-trek-movie-poster/

What would have been even better would be if it were the shuttle Enterprise, but that was mostly a test shuttle and was decommissioned early in the shuttle program. Still, a girl can dream.

BBC: Royal Roses Planted at Windsor Great Park

It seems like everyone is terribly excited about the upcoming nuptials of Prince William and Catherine Middleton. (I can see how it's exciting, even though the British monarchy has no real power anymore.) Related to the hoopla, I found an article on an interesting botanical tradition behind royal weddings:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-berkshire-13152315

The Catherine rose is quite pretty, though I think the breed name really isn't quite distinctive enough. There have been so many British princesses and queens named Catherine (Henry VIII alone had two wives of that name) that I don't think, in a few decades, anyone will remember that this rose was named for this particular Catherine. (The Royal William rose, methinks, is only slightly less drably named.)

Nonetheless, it seems like a particularly beautiful thing to have a rose named after you. In this case, it's within the dictates of royal tradition, but I imagine that, for a botanist, to name a rose after someone she loved would be much like writing him a love letter or buying him a ring, only orders of magnitude greater -- like an astronomer naming a star for someone.

Happy Earth Day! or, Nature (by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

Today is Earth Day. Given my various posts on the subject in the past, it's self-evident that the earth, and therefore this holiday, is something I care a lot about.

In honor of the occasion, here is an appropriate poem I quite like:

Nature
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1900)

As a fond mother, when the day is o'er,
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,
Still gazing at them through the open door,
Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which though more splendid, may not please him more;
So Nature deals with us, and takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the hand
Leads us to rest so gently, that we go
Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,
Being too full of sleep to understand
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.

A beautiful poetic interpretation of the expression "Mother Earth," which many of us take for granted. But not today.

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.

Hope is the thing with feathers (by Emily Dickinson)

This is one of Dickinson's most famous poems, and rightly so:

Hope is the thing with feathers
by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

"Hope" is the thing with feathers —
That perches in the soul —
And sings the tune without the words —
And never stops — at all —

And sweetest — in the Gale — is heard —
And sore must be the storm —
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm —

I've heard it in the chillest land —
And on the strangest Sea —
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb — of Me.

I especially like this poem for its refreshing take on the human phenomenon of hope. It is not an entreaty to have hope, or a declaration of one's own hopes, but rather an observation and artistic portrayal of the emotion in the abstract.

She has a very distinctive style (lots of em-dashes, capitalization of nouns in the middle of sentences, strict meter); you know a Dickinson poem when you see one. It is, though, not surprising that she developed such a unique poetic voice, considering she was a recluse (and a rather odd duck, in general) throughout her life. In fact, most of her poetry was published posthumously, because she never really sought publication for herself.

Two Sides of a Coin

Praise and flattery are two very similar, and yet wholly different, creatures:

Just praise is only a debt, but flattery is a present.

~ Samuel Johnson

I do not often think of it this way, but it is quite true. It reminds me distinctly of the two traditions in which I am steeped. Americans believe in forthright truth and are wary of flattery, believing that the prettiest words are the most deceptive. The Chinese, on the other hand, have elevated flattery to a high art, placing their faith in the social lubricant of fine speech and disdaining those without such silvered tongues as uncultured and uncouth. Similarly, the Western world operates on a system of transaction, of payment of dues (catalogued, countersigned, and otherwise assured), whereas the Chinese believe in a system of favors, where it is more desirable to grant a favor than to suffer one given, where one's public honor trumps one's true ability when pressed to choose.

Veritas aut honor. Truly a difficult choice.

Subway Compass (the most brilliantly simple idea ever)

I've been noticing these past weeks that a certain spray-painted symbol has been showing up on sidewalks by the entrances of subway stations. It occurs in various colours (mostly red, light blue, and yellow), and looks like this:


(The dark mass at the bottom of the image is the hem of the dress I was wearing.)

I grew curiouser and curiouser, especially since I did not think it was mere chance that the symbol bore a remarkable resemblance to a compass rose, and even pointed in the right directions. (The "I.M. Pi" was also intriguing for its sheer cleverness.) I looked it up, naturally, and found this:

http://nyctheblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/steciled-compass-project-expands-to.html

It's absolutely brilliant. It's an ingenious solution to the inevitable momentary disorientation that comes with ascending from underground; it takes a few minutes and/or a few wrong turns to situate oneself on the Manhattan grid (and let's not even go into the snarl of lanes below Wall Street). I actually used to carry a small compass in my pocket/bag, just to save myself the confused wandering. This is a boon to all New York, and a long time in coming.

Ink

Blood is rather a common theme in philosophy and literature, but I thought this quotation uncommonly inspired:

Blood is the ink of our life's story.

~Jason Mechalek

There are so many layers of meaning in these few words. There is the blood of lineage, which for most people plays a crucial role in the course of their lives, whether through acceptance of a legacy, or repudiation of the same, or some combination of the two. There is the blood of birth, of bringing into the world another soul, another bearer of a name and a history. There is the blood of death, whether natural or otherwise, which changes the lives of all who bear witness, and all whose hands are thereafter stained. There is the blood of faith, which is not blood, but rather the vine's best attempt at blessing, for which believers have themselves bled, and lived, and died.

It is strange, is it not, that a biological substance, one of many, should hold for us such meaning?

BBC: Britain's Chief Scientist Knighted

The British are doing it right [sic] (correctly, I know):

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science_and_environment/10293940.stm

This is what we should be doing for scientists who are reaching out to the public, and educating people, and raising awareness about global warming and other environmental issues. The U.S. does not have honours of this nature, to be sure; a fairly new democracy such as ours is not quite conducive to ancient orders of knighthood or other such accolades. Regardless, there are many other ways to recognize the work of similar individuals in the States, which is what we should be doing, instead of pandering to the conservative Christians and vilifying science. This is why (among other reasons) education in the U.S. has been going down the tubes.

We have a nerdy(ish) President. I suppose that's a start.

Al Jazeera: BP's Moby Dick

More about the BP oil spill:

http://blogs.aljazeera.net/americas/2010/05/17/bps-moby-dick

I'm drawing attention to this article in particular, out of the many from all the reputable news sources out there, because of the Moby Dick reference. This journalist knows his Melville.

I read Moby Dick in my junior year of high school. My teacher absolutely loved Melville (as a sort of inside joke, I got him a Moby Dick pop-up book for Christmas, which he thought was pretty funny). It was one of the most absentminded books I've ever read -- everything I know about ambergris, I learned from Melville.

(If you actually want to know about the oil spill, try the link. There isn't much to add to what's out there, other than (a) it's horrible, and (b) our dependence on oil, especially deep sea drilling, obviously needs to stop, and soon.)

Behind the Name, i.e. Parental Expectations in One Word

http://www.behindthename.com

This is a really useful database which provides etymology, meanings, and connotations of names (not just English names, or modern names, mind you). It's great for giving names to characters who don't yet have them (I write fiction, if I haven't already mentioned it), and also for figuring out what the names of other people really mean (it sometimes leads to funny conversations). Mine, for example, means "lady" or "princess" -- really, more of "high-born, well-bred woman", which, if you know me, is a rather debatable description.

A One-Stop Resource for all your Greek Mythology Needs

http://www.theoi.com

An almost-comprehensive compendium of information on Greek mythology. Its strengths are deities of all stripes, mythical heroes, and genealogy. It is very useful as a supplement to Wikipedia, as it is usually more detailed, and its articles more tailored to the knowledgeable reader, rather than a lay audience.

Floriography

is, for the uninitiated, the Victorian practice of assigning meanings to species of flowers and plants. Friends, relatives, and lovers would send each other bouquets with which they communicated their sentiments and wishes. It was a way of saying what could not be said aloud, within the bounds of tact and social norms (more the latter, given that Victorian -- I use the term loosely -- sensibilities, especially among the elites and the educated, were circumscribed by strict propriety and etiquette).

A table: http://www.thegardener.btinternet.co.uk/flowerlanguage.html

I've always been enamored of the concept of such a cipher -- a quaint and fascinating practice, to be sure.

Wikipedia supplies another such glossary (included herein for cross-referencing purposes): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Floriography