Not everyday does Latin skill prove itself handy, but yesterday I had the opportunity to translate some Latin for a friend, something related to Lost. Most of the phrases were straightforward, but there was one sentence that I had to spend some time on, because many words had multiple means and I wasn’t easily able to suss out the context. I was left with the translator’s dilemma: a choice between making the translation as accurate as possible and making it sound like natural English. It was nice to have a passage that didn’t involve troop movements or Cicero flexing his oratory.

Cold meds make for one loopy Jeffrey. Despite this, work is getting done and dinner’s happily simmering away in the kitchen.

I finally got around to catching up on some movies to re-establish my waning geek cred, Sin City and Spider-Man 2, both “comic book” movies, but coming from and arriving at very different places.

Sin City was stunning visually, and like the recent Mirrormask, unlike anything I’ve seen on film before. Color was hoarded and meted out carefully; usually the film was black and white and just one other shade. The appearance of a blue became an event.

Unlike Mirrormask, it was excessively violent. Seeing the before and after points of what was once a static image gives it a texture much more horrific than I was expecting, yet because it was stylized violence, the blow was softened somehow by the unreality of what was happening. I’m still coming to terms with my reaction to it.

Spider-Man 2 wasn’t much of a departure from its predecessor, but I found it highly enjoyable. These films, to me, are about the transitions and little moments, and I found myself wandering during the obligatory fight scenes. Of course, it wouldn’t be a Spider-Man movie without both parts, so you take the good with the flashy. And flashy it was, so colorful I felt that they had to borrow colors from an alternate universe to make the film.

In the first Spider-Man, V was amused by the complete lack of professionalism that the scientists in the film exhibited (and there was certainly some in the sequel). Where were the double-blinded clinical trials, the peer reviewed journals, she asked? Gone with much of the other trappings of mundane life; these science guys are so hardcore and dedicated that they experiment on themselves.

Seeing these two movies within a few days of each other worked very well. Translating between media is poorly done so often, but these two took their source material and kept the spirit as they moved from the page to the screen. It also goes to show just a sliver of the diversity that graphic novels are able to convey in terms of mood and artistic vision, something which I hope will allow for a wider acceptance of such a deserving format.

As a note, if a member of the Society of Nerds Supreme Council is reading this, please pay attention to the previous sentence and send me my membership card.

Sick and tired, I’m limping my way back into the swing of things.

I’ve been enjoying Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog. Brush up your Middle English and follow Chaucer’s always entertaining flame war against contemporary Gower: “Thou hast removede mencioun of me from the secounde drafte of thyn confessio amantis. WTF!?! & hereof I appeale thee John Gowere that thou art a wanker.”

Home again. Had a great trip, and am mighty exhausted. The trip back to Boston was entirely without incident.

Traveling on the public transit system, we were approaching King Memorial Station. Isadora (age 5), seated next to me, says “Oh! I know a song about Martin Luther King!” Isadora really likes singing and making up songs. Her songs are always entertaining; since I knew they studied him in school last month, I figured it would be something special.

It was special. She sang, her voice upbeat and cheery, her eyes filled with the pure light of childhood innocence. Here are the words to The Martin Luther King Song:

He died.
He died.
He died.
He died.
He died.
He died.
He died.
He died.

I’m still in Atlanta, and will be heading home to merry old New England on Monday. I’ve been working, eating, and seeing a few sights, and relaxing as I’m able.

Thursday I went to the Georgia Aquarium and saw much sea life. The garden eels were a particular favorite, as were the beluga whales. After that we went over to The Varsity, a fast food opened in the 1920’s. It’s still a huge favorite here, and was staggeringly busy. I had a chili dog combo, which I enjoyed very much and my stomach didn’t.

Yesterday I was taken to the Atlanta Cyclorama to see the large panoramic oil painting depicting the Battle of Atlanta. It was an educational show, and the History buff in me appreciated the small museum accompanying the painting.

I’m in Atlanta for a few days on a semi-vacation. I flew business class for the first time in my life today, and I must say it was mighty nice. I learned that no matter how old or important looking people get, some still try really hard to make themselves look important to everyone around them. Also, the new generation of cell phones all have interesting sounds they make when they start up. When the plane landed, there was a spontaneous mini symphony in business class as the phones booted. Arpeggios, chords, even a glissando!

The girls have grown up in three years. I was delighted by a dramatic reading of “Is Boo with you?” by the youngest, now five (almost six! she fiercely adds). The eldest at 7 has a highly developed sense of sarcasm, and has already surpassed her parents in that regard.

Happy Spring to everyone!

V’s been in the Big Apple all weekend being cosmopolitan, and I’ve had the chance to spend some quality time blissfully alone with no agenda whatsoever. I did some chores, read a bit and ate now and then. I had a dream on Saturday morning about a man with 4 eyes; one on left side, and three on the right, stacked vertically. They all blinked at the same time, and he had four eyebrows too. This is one of my favorite dreams from the past year or two, the others being recounted here and here.

I pulled out the music stuff for the first time in a while and ended up with Glass Shoe Man, which is an exercise in temporal expansion. Everything in the piece more or less is presented in the first cycle, and from there on out it’s just adjustment of colors. One might find it tedious, but I think it’s kind of fun. The name is a pun on the last names of two composers; it’s repetitive like old school 1960’s Glass and orchestrated in the clonky and unsubtle manner of Robert Schumann.

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Finally and most joyfully, my dad is finally home after more than a week of hospitalization. Not the best way to start retired life, but I’m glad he’s on the road to recovery.

I’m releasing Agricultural Revelations today. It’s been sitting around the house since November, and right now I’d prefer it out being enjoyed. As such, it’s downloadable and free under a Creative Commons license.

Agricultural Revelations is a 7-track EP that I put together at the end of last year, and is my second release of electronic music. You can find out more by going to the download/info page or if you’re impatient just click here to download the 37MB zip file.

I’d like to thank everyone who’s given me support with my music and my life, either directly or indirectly. You know who you are, and I’m grateful to you. We’re all in this together, and I couldn’t do what I do without all of you. Hooray for us!

I’d also like to thank Vlad, Doug and Cesare, whose belief in independent musicians like myself has been a solid foundation and constant source of comfort.

If St. Patrick’s Day were nothing more than an opportunity to use that title, I’d be happy. I’m also wishing I’d have eaten the “heightened alert” cupcakes first so that I’d be able to have green cupcakes today, but I’m left with instead left with nothing guaranteed terror.

I’m not feeling 100% wonderful right now, and am having a hard time concentrating. Coding while sick is not the most fun I could ever have, but it could certainly be worse.

Talking with Dan about junk mail, he pointed me at the site OptOutPrescreen, which lets you opt out of all credit card offers. It apparently works.

This seems to be a little known service, so I’m including it here on the off chance that you’ve received one MBNA application too many.

Silly Theme Food week continues. Last night V made an excellent steak and mushroom pie to celebrate 3/14, or Pi Day (in non-American dates one should celebrate this on 22/7). Today is the Ides of March, so it’s Caesar salad. We discussed the merits of having a meal for tomorrow, but couldn’t think of anything appetizing having to do with John 3:16.

I’d guess that about 70% of my mail has some sort of message on the front indicating how important it is. Do not discard. Dated material inside. Urgent and confidential.

Of those letters, maybe 5% are even relevant to me. The rest are, of course, advertising, and go straight into the recycle bin. I’d expect a truly urgent message to come registered mail, at the very least. But how far will this trend go, as advertisers desperately try to get me to even open their mail?

For some reason, I find myself amused that I’ve made it this long on this site without using such words as bathos, hubris, or aporia. Not that I sling such words around all the time, but they’re there in the quiver, and sometimes one particular world fits so well in the situation, that one can’t help pull it out and let it do it’s thing.

That having been said, I’m not going to use any of those words, but as I was thinking about Sisyphus this morning, he came along with a cloud of Greek words. I read the transcript of a lecture about him many weeks ago, and the thought returned to me today as I carried the laundry to the washing machine. Sisyphus pushes his heavy rock up the hill, only to have it fall down again. A question asked in the lecture was why is this torment, and does it have to be?

Greek myth is so supersaturated with metaphor and analogy that one doesn’t have to have advanced degrees to find some. It’s like trying to find an espresso in Eugene, Oregon, the area is so dense with little coffee stands and huts that it’s hard not to end up with a cup of coffee. And just like Eugene, one can come back to the same myth over and over and find something new each time, or retreat to a cozy interpretation where one knows all the ins and outs.

The second half of the question “does it have to be?” took me to the cafe next door.* Repetition of a task is not tedious in itself, but it becomes so once the layers of expectation and metrics of achievement are put in place. When Sisyphus wants to be doing something else, wants the rock to disappear, there’s torment due to the disconnect of reality and expectation. But what happens when layers and metrics disappear?

We’ve all got our rock, and we’re rolling it all the time. Hug your rock, it’s not going anywhere.

*The process of writing this post dredged up another essay - author forgotten - read at least a decade ago, in which I recall a smiling Sisyphus watching the rock roll down the hill and then bounding down to push it up again. So I’ve been to this cafe before.

There were some bumps, but tastiness was on the march today as we celebrated the Terror Alert System anniversary with cupcakes. We stayed the course and baked the muffins we had, not the muffins we wanted. My Australian ally, a member of the Coalition of the Hungry, assisted me with baking frosting these little nuggets of freedom.

There was a little bit of drama before placing them in the ovens. Best intelligence had told me that there was baking powder in the batter, but there was none. An investigation is ongoing. We had to sacrifice countless cupcake cups, re-add the baking powder, and start again. I wept at loss of those little paper cups, but I think we honored their sacrifice by continuing on with the recipe.

Should you decide to express your own patriotism, here is the recipe:

Terror Cupcakes

Ingredients

• 100% patriotism
• 1 cup milk
• 4 cups flour
• 5 teaspoons baking powder
• 2/3 cup butter
• 2 cups sugar
• 4 eggs
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 tsp vanilla
• frosting & food coloring

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 350°
2. Cream the butter and sugar.
3. Add the eggs well beaten, then the milk and vanilla.
4. Add flour sifted, baking powder, and salt. Stir thoroughly.
5. Bake in buttered and floured cup tins in a oven for about 25 minutes.
6. Let cool, then frost with the terror level of your choice. Real Americans use all five colors.
7. Taste the Fredom!