Snow Week: A Pictographical Chronicle

Good evening, excellent good friends. Today I wish to share with you all a small selection of the numerous photographs I took of the river valley on Wednesday morning. Now, you might wonder what I was doing in the river valley on a Wednesday, rather than working on various selections of nonsense at the Academy, as I usually do on Wednesdays before visiting the church at Northern Hills.

Well, as you recall, I recently climbed the symptom tree to discover what is wrong with my former computer. It was a defective graphics processing unit, which the technical support people insisted on solving with a system exchange. After investigating alternative solutions, none of which bore fruit, I was inclined to acquiesce to their request, and I accepted this exchange, which would arrive within two weeks. It did arrive in the river valley on Tuesday, and I decided that I should like to go there and obtain it, which I did. As it turned out, this was a slightly insane decision, as the roads were not at all safe on Tuesday afternoon, even before the bulk of the snowstorm had begun. Regardless, I survived the trip intact, though it took me about fifteen minutes longer than usual, and I not only got to see the splendor of the river valley, but I also was able to use a computer of my very own again. To make matters better, the new system was in several ways upgraded from the old one, and by regulation in no way worse, not to mention new. So now, without the cost of a single penny, I have a newer, better computer!

Thus I was in the river valley, whence I planned to depart for Northern Hills and thence school on Wednesday. Of course, this did not take place because of the glorious snow. I was disappointed, even more so when the Thursday events were canceled, but I suspect the snow might have been worth it. Here now are five of the many photographs I mentioned, but in person I would love to share them all with any interested fellows. Enlarge them with a mere click of the mouse.


Here is the frozen river, which I felt needed to be shown. This is the most extreme freezing it has seen in years, and it has been even longer since its icy shroud has been blessed with a copious covering of snow.





When the sun came out, I did my best to capture the rays of light upon the icy trees. This one, however, has its excellence in the clouds. It does well in capturing the unique color of the wintery sky.









Here I am standing under a frozen and bent birch tree. I thought it the effect would be just neato. I think I was right.







This photograph captures two essential points that I wanted to make. First, it gives us a view over a distance. Second, it provides a close look at the icy twigs of a particularly excellent tree.






For the grand finale, I present photograph, which is certainly my favorite. The sun happened to shine in the right direction when I was standing where I was, and I took notice. Notice also, as you are whelmed by the tree and the sky, the view down snow-covered roadway.

In Praise of Snow, Against the Machine

As you are well aware, my friends, snow is the best kind of weather, so when it falls in profusion, I cannot help but delight. Indeed, it need not even arrive in any significant quantity to rouse my happiest spirits, so how much more may I wonder to find inches untrodden upon the ground? This is an especially happy occasion in the river valley, as the river is frozen over. Thus a layer of undisturbed white shrouds the surface of the ice, warming the hearts of all. Regrettably, I am not among the fields and the forests of that river valley, and so my imagination longs to look upon that place.

Instead, I am at the Academy, which has employed the fullness of its ability in an effort to spoil the snowfall. First, it made the insane demand that we attend classes after 10:00 am today. Usually, I have class from 9:30 am until 5:50 pm on Tuesday, but today I am busy only from 11:00 am until 12:15 pm. You might wonder what the problem with this is, for all seems to be on my side. This is true, but the principle is that the inhuman Academy did not cancel those events. The professors made these cancellations, noting the insanity of the Man and his Machine. This means that, contrary to the wishes of the establishment, I can play in the snow, read a book or three, and scriven symbols of various kinds all afternoon. So I shall.

What of playing in the snow? Ah, the Academy must cast a black shadow on this, as well! The heathen hordes, forced from their dismal dwellings by the aforementioned demands, have trodden the few fields that could have remained still and silent, undisturbed and serene. The most brutish and barbarous of footprints, bringing with them all manner of murk and mud have made their marks. There is no good in this black and greasy murk, and the excellences of both snow and mud are lost in their commingling. Furthermore, there is the concentrated effort to clear all sorts of pathways by the most uncivil of means, from salting to shoveling to the employ of bleak machines which war upon the wondrous white, spurting its spoilt, discolored masses hither and yon without concern.

There is an answer to these troubles, and that is to find the remaining instances of excellence and to bask before them. My favorite window, in a hall on a hill, allows me to look upon the northern hills, and the snowy landscape cannot fail to impress. In this way, one may delight in the spaces apart from the Academy. There is also no effort to sabotage the presence of snow in the trees, whose precarious perches among both needles and branches exude the wonder of frailty and impress upon the mind the delight of thinking on how the snow came to rest as it did. Rooftops, too, are spared the onslaught of these certain madmen, so many halls and houses grant the onlooker a particularly pleasing impression. It is an excellence of snow that I cannot be stopped from enjoying it.

There are yet two longings that consume me, neither of which will likely be met. For one, I wish to sit before a fire, but I can think of no fireplace anywhere around here, and even in the river valley we have reason to believe a dead critter decomposes in our chimney. I myself do not believe this. For another, I wish to sled down a hill. Though there are hills here, I am without a sled, and I am not inclined to go searching for one. Sledding, by the way, is the best of all sport.

Have an excellent snow, O friends!

Climbing the Symptom Tree

My friends, my loyal laptop computer has been broken since Friday afternoon. This is not a happy thing for two reasons. First, I am dependent on my computer to do important things like completing schoolwork and remaining in contact with the outside world. Second, I now have to fix it. This means that what time I might have had to do interesting things is now spent fiddling with a machine. I began this task on Friday, attempting likely fixes, culminating in a system restore. When that did not work, I discovered how to run diagnostic tests to look for trouble. This is done by climbing the Symptom Tree, and thus I have been leaping from branch to branch, like unto the squirrel or the lumberjack, visiting all the little critters of nature and asking them if anything is wrong. So far this has turned up only one issue with the video memory. I am hoping that this is all that is wrong, as this would make repairing the device much easier. Furthermore, this particular problem fits all the symptoms faultlessly. I do not know what to do about it, but I hope to find out today. Currently I am using the family desktop at home.

Incidentally, there have been several inconvenient irritations that have plagued my presence of late. On Friday morning, a small water leak did some damage to my home in the lush river valley. As far as leaks go, it was not bad at all, but that does not make it fine or beautiful. For Friday afternoon, I have mentioned my computer already. For Saturday, our excellent friend Ben lost his wallet to a thief. I still consider this weekend, especially Saturday, to have been fine and beautiful, containing many events that I am glad took place, but I would prefer that these certain things had not happened, and I hope for no further nonsense.

What I do and why I do it

It has occurred to me that I have not related to anyone the incredible resolution of much of the angst I expressed a week ago. At that time and with great fervor, I spent much time looking though class after class, considering three criteria in this order:

1. Does it help me graduate?
2. When is it?
3. Is it pleasant?

I knew of some courses that I needed desperately. For one, there yet remained an introductory philosophy course, namely epistemology, that I needed as a prerequisite for some higher level courses. This had been full since I sought after it in November, but I continued to check for the remote possibility of an opening. It was my full intent to attempt to join the class by an add slip, which likely would have been rejected, but on Monday night not only did one seat open up, but against all probability I was watching when it did. This was the single most significant obstacle in my schedule, resolved perfectly. This course fulfilled all three of my criteria with excellence. I could scarcely believe such fortune.

Later, other surprises awaited me. For hours at that point, I had been running search after search through the list of helpful courses over and over again, hoping to find one that was both open and not at some ludicrous time, such as 8:00 am on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I found some with conflicts and some with undesirable times, but I found no unpleasant course at a pleasant time. My criteria were not being allowed consideration in the proper order, until I just happened to look at the listing for the absurd but required English 289 for about the third or fourth time. Forgive me if I did not keep an exact count. The one section that was at the best possible time just happened to have a single opening, and I just happened to see it. I was happy. This was the second ideal solution to what had beforehand appeared to be an unsolvable problem.

I was then ready for Tuesday, with time to finalize one more course on Monday or Wednesday. All this time, I was aware of my preferred solution, Ethics, which meets on Monday from 6:30 pm to 9:10 pm. This, too, had been full since November, and I had little hope of enrolling in the course. I still kept a fool's hope for it, though, and this compelled me to check its availability whenever I was searching. On Tuesday afternoon, I was released from a class early, since it was the first day. I proceeded to my computer, from which I decided I would fiddle with scheduling until I had someplace else to be. I looked at Ethics, and one seat had opened up. I took it as fast as my keystrokes would allow. Later that day, I would discover also the possibility of taking online courses, and this would complete my schedule. Quite delightfully, one seat happened to be open in a section of the Introduction to Sociology, which seems like the least unpleasant option in the social and behavioral sciences. All was resolved. Everything I had wanted at the start and more had been given to me.

As a Christian, I often wonder about God's involvement with this world. Having been in the church all my life, and having been somewhat stupider than I am now (I hope), I have covered the spectrum of beliefs on this issue pretty thoroughly. I have believed that the Deity is deeply concerned about the color of my socks and is intimately involved with these socks at every point up to and following my wearing them at the appointed time. Had I been truly holy, some clairvoyant sense would have told me which socks to choose each morning, in addition to everything else I ought to do. (Yes, I actually believed this, and the longer I believed it, the more hostile I became because of it.) I have also believed that the Most High, apart from morally relevant issues, does not care a whit what we do and does not become involved directly with us. This seemed very liberating, but really it turned out to be a very bleak and lonely way of living. This so diminishes the role of the Holy Spirit especially that such a view is really unacceptable. Worst of all, one can never ask anything of God when one believes that nothing will come of the petition. These, of course, are both extreme positions, and thankfully they are both false.

That was not a digression, though I think it may appear like one. For I thank the Master for this blessing. It is very humbling to wonder, who am I to be given any gift? Better yet, what am I? I admit, I tend to be highly suspicious when anyone makes a claim specific divine intervention. I am even suspicious of myself as I think I have a specific cause to thank the Almighty. It is then that it must be remembered, "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows" (James 1:17). Therefore who am I to be suspicious? Who am I not to offer praise for good things? Regardless of the precise nature of God's involvement, I cannot very well deny it. (On a side note, the middle knowledge promulgated by the likes of Dr. Craig strikes me as providing the best account of such things.)

At any rate, when I started I wanted to present the final form of my schedule for this quarter:
Monday
6:30 pm to 9:10 pm, Ethics
Tuesday
9:30 am to 10:45 am, Symbolic Logic II
11:00 am to 12:15 pm, Introduction to Ethics
12:30 pm to 1:45 pm, English 289
2:00 pm to 3:15 pm, Introduction to Epistemology
3:30 pm to 5:50 pm, Philosophy of Science
Wednesday
Nothing. (Except homework and sociology)
Thursday
9:30 am to 10:45 am, Symbolic Logic II
11:00 am to 12:15 pm, Introduction to Ethics
12:30 pm to 1:45 pm, English 289
2:00 pm to 3:15 pm, Introduction to Epistemology
Friday
Nothing. (Except homework and sociology)

Angst at the Academy

Good evening, my friends. Today I wish to relate my experiences in the Academy. Be forewarned, I will be largely venting frustration hereafter. So far I have not gone neither a semester nor a quarter without changing majors. When I started at Oxnard in the fall of 2007, I was a history major, but their disorientation upset me, and I decided to change to music. I did this because I wanted to move to the Conservatory in the fall, and I thought it would be wise to do music things in preparation. My first semester at Oxnard, however, I was a history major, for I had to make the change for the next semester. The second semester, therefore, I was a music major. The degree I would have gotten on this track was a Bachelor of Arts in music, which would have with it a concentration. I certainly would have chosen music history, but I did not stay long enough for that to be relevant.

In the course of the second semester, I was accepted into the Conservatory to major in music history, which was a Bachelor of Music degree. I was excited about this for a long time, then they began to explain all the unpleasant things that I would have to do, including certain requirements that would delay my progress significantly. I became very upset with the Conservatory, so on the first day of my first quarter there, I dropped all my music classes and began the bureaucratic procedures required to become a history major again. Thus I spent this last quarter as a music history major, but as of today, I am a double major in history and philosophy.

Let us go back a few months. It was the gloaming of summertime, and I had ordered the Evil College Board to send my AP scores to the University at Cincinnati. They did this, and I received a letter assuring me that this was so. It then only remained for me to wait for the bureaucracy to process them, but this did not take place. In October, registration for the winter quarter began, but I did not know this. Because seventy-seven of my credit hours (the quarter system makes this number a third higher than it would be under the semester system) were coming in the form of AP scores, the Man considered me to be a mere first-quarter sophomore, when in fact I was a third-quarter junior. This delayed my registration for the winter quarter by several weeks, for registration is prioritized by the number of credit hours one has to his name. At Oxnard this was not a problem, since I was in the honors program. I am not in the honors program at Cincinnati. I have no patience for its absurd requirements, and its delaying my graduation would make it cost more than its minuscule scholarship would provide. How insipid is that?

At any rate, I am still fighting to register for classes I do not even want to take, as nearly all of them were full by the time I was allowed to register, and all this because my AP scores were lost in the bureaucracy. It was not until recently that my inquiries into the matter revealed that this was the case, and the scores were processed. The damage, however, is still being done. My burning resentment of the University at Cincinnati is firmly sealed, and it is my firm intent to graduate as soon as possible.

How soon is that? It is next December, at which time I will have complete the required year in the College of Arts and Sciences. There are, however, stipulations to that plan. Most importantly, I cannot be a history major, as there is this absurd sequence of courses that would take until the Spring to finish, which is supposed to teach me how to think like an historian. I do not mind dropping history, though. I can still be a history minor without all the ridiculousness, and it has come to my attention that the history department at Cincinnati is dreadful. Its offerings are slim and uninteresting. The philosophy department, however, is rather nice, with broad and interesting course offerings. Therefore I mean to become a philosophy major and a history minor.

There is an obstacle for the minor. This is transfer credit. Some people talk about the wonderful thing that is CAS, which stands for Course Applicability System. It is supposed to handle the transfer of credit from university to university, which is fine unless you are transferring courses that are not listed therein, like me. If that is the case, you wind up with useless free electives out the wazoo, even if the identity of two courses is very obvious. For example, at Oxnard they offer a course in the Philosophy of Religion, which that Academy calles "Problems of God and Morality." I took this course, and it was great. Cincinnati offers a course called Philosophy of Religion. The Course Applicability System (which, by the way, is operated by the Academy at Oxnard) does not list these courses, so the transfer does not happen. For another, Oxnard's Development of Christianity does not match up to Cincinnati's History of Christianity, despite being obviously the same. They simply are not listed. Because of this nonsense, I must now persuade the University at Cincinnati that certain courses are, in fact, the same. This includes two history courses that would complete the history minor. There is a form to fill out, which will also correct a blatant error in the transfer credit. Such incompetence!

On another dissonant note, a dissonant note out of context no less, I would like to add that today I discovered that an unpleasant course I took last quarter, thinking it fulfilled an unpleasant requirement, counted for no such thing. As it turns out, as no one saw fit to tell me, there is a very specific and narrow list of courses that fulfill certain requirements, including the "Social and Behavioral Science" requirement, and despite being very much a "Social and Behavioral Science" course, it did not count. The rationale for this is beyond me, unless it is money. I think for certain the issue is money. The narrower the requirements, the fuller the classes, and the fuller the classes, the more students like me have to wait to take these classes. The longer I am at the University, the more money they can draw out. Furthermore, the fuller the classes, the more efficient the system is, but at the same time it is less effective. How dismal.

As a philosophy major and a senior at last, I shall have divers courses from which to choose, and they shall not be closed. Of course, I shall have to take a few extra hours and perhaps a couple of courses in the summer, but this shall not bother me. If I manage to graduate on schedule, I can begin grad school at the very start of 2010. Otherwise, I shall have to wait until the fall. This means that I shall soon have to go looking for schools, which is a strange combination of mildly exciting and rather depressing. I have a few ideas, but I do not wish to speak of them yet. After all, I still have to deal with my accursed schedule for this quarter.

Driving Blind

Here's what happened. I was driving, and in so doing I made a mighty charge forward, in the name of progress. In order to properly charge, it was only natural that I should make a suitably heroic gesture. I clenched my hand in a fist, signifying power. I raised it aloft, and I shot it forward, as lightening across the heavens. I punched my rear view mirror right off. Immediately thereafter, as I tried to figure out what I had done, certain emergency lights began to flash. This was either because the mirror fell off or because, in falling, it hit the emergency button. The fact that the mirror was held in place by mere glue indicates the latter. Having done this, I wondered, "Now what?" I sought refuge in a parking lot, which required that I move over a lane, but the emergency lights forbade my signaling. Thus I was forced to wait for those behind me to pass me before I could comfortably switch lanes, and this was much more difficult without a mirror. In short, I did find my way into the parking lot, where I called home, asking what I am to do without a mirror, how to turn the emergency lights off, and whether I should still drive the car. The button was found, and I was told to be careful as I drove home without a mirror. I am now home safely. No worries.