**musical mood preference: Bedrich Smetana - Vltava**

Well, I figured since I've already laid out a few dreams in this weblog over the last four or five months, its worth discussing my recurring nightmare.

I often have a dream in which I am in bed, lying awake, with the distinct sensation that there is someone or something standing at the foot of my bed. It is pitch black and I can't see anything at all, not even a shape. All I have is the feeling that there is something there. No noise, no movement, yet it leaves me with a sinking, pit-of-the-stomach fear of what I believe is there.

This nightmare often ends in me waking up and feeling exactly what I was while sleeping. I eventually turn on the light to make sure I'm alone.

How juvenile is that?

Dreams Again

**musical mood preference: Darling Violetta**

I have a recurring dream that I'm running out of gas. What the hell could that mean? And its like its a perpetually torturesome game to see if I can make it to a gas station, which I never do, but I never run out of gas either. Bizarre, really.

Out of place

**musical mood preference: Neko Case - Wish I was the Moon**

Sometimes I wish that I still lived in Montrose. I feel sort of outta place here in the Valley; even when you consider that I've actually lived in this area longer than my time spent in Susquehanna County. All of my friends, the people I love and love to spend time with are up there, and I'm down here. I have few friends here, and even fewer who are 21. It's sort of a bind.

More whining. Joy.

Sorry.

Christmas Review

**musical mood preference: Nirvana Box Set**

I had trouble getting to sleep Christmas Eve because I felt shitty and I was ridiculously tired all day yesterday. After getting up at 6 am, I finished wrapping my presents and opened my presents from my dad. I took a nap at mom's after I opened my stuff there, then ate dinner. All in all it was a nice day, despite still feeling run-down.

Regarding presents - All I have to say: I have a couple of loads of laundry to do today. I'm not complaining, I needed some new clothes.

There was something missing from this Christmas, as nice and relaxing as it was. I think its just reminiscience of having someone for the last two holidays, and now there is no one. Just a void in that part of my memory. I miss having someone. But I'm very happy with what I DO have, as I know it's more than many others. So, don't take my reflection as whining, but rather as just remembering with longing.

I hope everyone had a safe and nice holiday.

Merry Christmas

Have a good one, everyone.

Birthday

**musical mood preference: Otmar Liebert - Flowers of Romance (classical guitar)**

Happy birthday to me

The Master and Margarita

**musical mood preference: Led Zeppelin - When the Levee Breaks**

Now that the semester is over, I can finally delve into the pile of books I have been collecting since September. First on my list is one that I started at the beginning of the semester but had to push aside once the work started piling up. It is Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita.

From what I gathered in the excerpt I had to read for my CMLIT141 class at PSU, the book is a anti-Stalinist piece of literature wrapped cleverly around a theme of good and evil involving the Devil amongst others. I read the excerpt that becomes a repeated paralelling story throughout the rest of the book, that of Pontius Pilate and Yeshua ha-Nostri.

The story of Jesus' last day is one well known to all of us who attended YEARS AND YEARS of Sunday school and catechismm and sat thru countless hours of mass.

I'll do a half-assed review when I finish the book.



1 day left.

Whatever You Say, Say Nothing - a speculative piece

Originally, I unknowingly encountered the title of Seamus Heaney's "Whatever You Say, Say Nothing" on a 1970's political poster. This was long before I ever read the poem as assigned by a recent contemporary Irish literature course. The poster reads; "Loose Talk Costs Lives: In taxis, On the phone, In clubs and bars, At football matches, At home with friends, ANYWHERE! Whatever you say, say nothing!"

The poster addresses the obvious issue of informing, knowingly or not, to members of the British security forces or worse even, to ruthless Loyalist murder squads. There is even a threatening undertone carried by the poster; perhaps wordlessly saying that you will be found if it is heard you informed. Informers are and have been the scourge of the Republican movement since the time of the United Irishmen. Measures to counter-act this terrible bain to the RM had to be taken.

The poem, on the other hand, is a literary jab at the culture of silence across the Six Counties. This culture of silence is in the process of being challenged head on by the proposed truth committees. After over 3 decades of bloodshed and sectarian conflicht, this culture of tight-lipped communities is just now beginning to lift.

The first line of this poem describes the generalized view that the world has of the struggle in the Six Counties. The sarcastically stabbing phrase, "views on the Irish thing," is an accurately declared truth of the worlds' perspective of this localised strife. The presses of foreign nations try to pin the fight on "religious differences." This may be accurate on the surface, but in truth it has always been an economic struggle; a class struggle. The Protestant majority at a time held all the well-paying jobs and those of the Catholic minority were either unemployed, or held relatively unskilled, low-paying jobs. To call it purely religious is to be ignorant of Irish history.

"Bad news is no longer news" is another compelling phrase. This struggle has gone on so relentlessly that bombings and shootings are no longer front page articles in the newspaper. The violence became part of everyday life for people living in the Six Counties. Even as a part of everyday life, the common people still avoid discussion of happenings for the most part. It is viewed as inappropriate chat between acquaintances and neighbours in most cases. Many people view the subject matter as more trouble than its worth to discuss.

What Heaney is trying to say is that the common citizen[sic] of the Occupied Six Counties tries not to show strong political convictions, save at ballot time. This statement is shown true by the results of the last local elections in the Six Counties. Rising numbers of voters chose the more "radical" parties as the ones they wished to represent them at Stormont. This goes to show, the outward demeanor of the common people of the occupied counties does not show the truth of their political leanings.

"Maneouverings to find out name and school, subtle discrimination by addresses." This line is an additional one that must be discussed. This suggests (and is largely true, sadly enough) that average people in Six Counties discriminate on basis of what part of town you are from, what church you go to, what school you attend(ed) and what your first and/or last name is. i.e: If your name is Daithi MacHugh , you are a "sure-fire Pape" and will be treated accordingly by the community. If you have a British sounding name, you will be treated with more respect from members of the Protestant community, before they ever know your religion.

In the later stanzas of the poem, Heaney tries to give the reader a vivid image of internment camps and bomb craters. Machine-gun nests and reminders of Stalinist Russia. This poem makes pokes at long-standing ways of every day life in the Six Counties and has become a literary example used to explain some of the points of the violence to those not in the know.

I understand that some of the points I made above are very generalized and may not seem to cover all bases; but I am just attempting to put out a short review of my views on this increasingly popular poem.

Party

**musical mood preference: Neil Young - Old Man**

Saturday's party included about 9 years worth of Trose-heads. From a person who graduated when I was in 8th grade, to a few who are still seniors.

A couple stops at the Brackney Inn made for some interesting happenings. It was also good to see a bunch of people I haven't seen in probably 4 years; I've been fairly removed from the Montrose scene until recently.

Team Kickass did some mean cleaning at the end of the night and made some tin-foil creations.

Brewer passed out on my couch, that bastard.

All in all, a good night.

Anyway, off to work....

Only 2 more days.

Update

My computer is broken, AGAIN.

I'm waiting on my grades for the semester.

I had a great weekend. Saw so many people that I haven't seen in a long time.

Hopefully I'll get my computer back before X-Mas. If not then... you'll be forced to read something else til I do get it back.

Blindness In Oedipus

It is often said that even when exposed to the truth, certain people still cannot accept what is presented to them, regardless of the obviousness of the facts. Oedipus is most definitely a prime example of this. Tiresias, however, is a polar opposite of Oedipus, even when regarding his physical blindness. He represents the wise, the omniscient, while Oedipus represents what humans inevitably tend to be, blind to real truth. Tiresias is the human embodiment of one of the themes of Sophocles’ play, Truth.

King Oedipus was born into a prophecy that proclaimed he would kill his father and marry his mother. In an attempt to avoid this foreseen fate, his parents, king and queen of Thebes, Laius and Jocasta, made a local shepherd take their baby out into the wilderness and leave him for dead. However, the shepherd did not have the heart to do such a thing and gave the child to a Corinthian shepherd. This shepherd took the infant Oedipus to Polybus and Merope, the rulers of his homeland.

Eventually, Oedipus learned of his prophecy, thus ending that episode blindness, and fled his home. He left thinking the Theban royals were his real parents, introducing a new thread of blindness. During his flight from what he believed was his home city, he came across King Laius on a narrow forest path. He ended up killing Laius in an altercation with his accompanying party.

He continued his life blind to the fact that he had fulfilled one end of his dreaded prophecy. Oedipus acquired the throne of Corinth, which he did not know was rightfully his, and married Jocasta, his mother. He had lived out the prophecy without even realizing he had, blind to the importance of everything that had happened.

Prophecy can not be avoided, and Oedipus was again knowingly blind to this fact. Oedipus’ blindness regarding his prophecy was enhanced when news of the death of Polybus made its way to Corinth. In his mind, there was now no way the curse could ever be fulfilled. But this is a form of hubris, as was Laius and Jocasta’s attempt to bypass prophecy by having Oedipus killed at birth.

Thebes, following the death of Laius, fell into bad times, with famine and hardship consuming the city-state. Oedipus called on Tiresias, the famous blind Theban soothsayer, and after much prodding and denial, was informed that the “corruption of the land” was the King himself. “I say you are the murderer you hunt,” charged the seer. As Oedipus searched further and further, and began to weigh his history in his mind, he discovered finally accepted the connections Tiresias made. His dreaded prophecy had come true. Tiresias best explains this realization of the tragedy of Oedipus’ life saying:

“You mock my blindness? Let me tell you this.
You with your precious eyes,
You’re blind to the corruption of your life,
To the house you live in, those you live with – “ (Oedipus, line 468)

When Oedipus finally discovered the truth, he was so distressed that mutilated his eyes, permanently blinding himself. He had been blind to the truth for so long, he was the father of his mother’s children. His children were his brothers and sisters, and he could not bear to look at them.

Oedipus was blind in more then one way. He was blind to the truth about his own life. Oedipus had no idea, up until that painful point of realization, that his real parents were Laius and Jocasta. He was so blind that he was enraged at anyone who was foolish enough to suggest such an idea. He screams at Tiresias, the only man capable and willing to tell him the truth:

Come here, you pious fraud. Tell me,
When did you ever prove yourself as a prophet? (Oedipus, line 442)

As more of the tale began to fall into place, Oedipus was forced to open his eyes to the real truth. Oedipus did indeed murder his father and wed his mother. Finally in the know, he understood that he was the cause of the hardship in Thebes. As soon as Oedipus knew and accepted the truth, he blinded himself, because he could know longer handle seeing the world as it was.

Oedipus' self-inflicted physical blindness was a common function of Greek tragedy. The blindness was just an addition to the building sorrow for Oedipus. All Greek tragedies were supposed to have their main characters experience their own very personal tragedy. For Oedipus, this tragedy was discovering the truth and falsehood of his life to that point, and not being able to deal with it. It concluded the prophecy that Oedipus received from Tiresias. The blind seer told Oedipus that he had entered Thebes with sight, but he would leave Thebes without it.

Oedipus' physical blindness also forced Oedipus to look internally and deal with his newly discovered dilemma. With nothing to look at, Oedipus was forced to think about his life and what had happened. The perpetual blackness and the physical torment he had imposed on himself served as reminders and as punishment for his hubris and other sins. Oedipus made his physical blindness was just as painful as his blindness to the truth, intertwining both. Jocasta's blindness was different then Oedipus'. She knew about the prophecy, but she assumed that her son Oedipus was dead. As the ruler of a kingdom, one expects orders given to be followed by common citizens. Jocasta and Laius believed that the shepherd had done as they had told. Blind, she had no idea that she had married her son. As pieces of information came to clarify the whole truth of the matter, Jocasta refused to accept that the dreaded curse had finally come true. She realized what had happened, and she knew that she had played a role in it. The queen realized that she was guilty of hubris for believing that she could beat the prophecy.

Tiresias' blindness was physical in nature, he was born into his blindness and had no control over it. What is evident is that his blindness was supposed to be representative of him being special, because he was different. He was not able to see in a physical sense, so he made up for it by being able to see in a supernatural sense. Tiresias played the role of the typical prophet of the Greek tragedy. He presented only the truth to Oedipus, and Oedipus attacked for his blindness; primarily in terms of physical sight but also in regards to the figurative sense:

“You’ve lost your power,
Stone blind, stone deaf - sense, eyes blind as stone!” (Oedipus, ln 421)

Figurative blindness can be harder to deal with then literal blindness for some people. Most people will learn to deal with the lack of sight. However, if a person is blind to Truth, there is nothing that person can do correctly in their life until they learn that truth. Oedipus is representative of this. When the person does learn the truth, he tends to feel like all of his previous actions are falsified or void. When Oedipus learned the truth, his way of dealing with his figurative blindness was to physically blind himself. When Jocasta learned the truth, her way of dealing with her figurative blindness was to kill herself. In this play, blindness led to the truth, and the truth led to blindness. The theme of blindness worked perfectly in a tragic circle of hubris and pain. The truth led to tragedy, the blinding and exile of the fallen king and the death of the queen. Oedipus, Tiresias, and Jocasta were all blind in different ways, yet all found the truth.

Agamemnon’s Herald

Aeschylus’ character of the Herald in the Agamemnon portion of the Orestiad serves a number of purposes. Life in Argos waits on this man’s return to the city announcing the victory and news of the fall of Troy. It has been so long since the young men of Greece have been home that despair has set in without them. All that remains are unpregnant women and the elderly.

On the surface, the Herald is representative of the common warrior returning to his home after a decade of battle in the Trojan War. He left a young man and is returning much more mature. He expresses what all of the Greek warriors must have felt upon their return to their homelands, places they hadn’t seen in over ten years. He praises the gods for the blessing that he now may die and be buried in his own dirt, rather than in wretched Illium. He praises the gods that fought against the Greeks saying:

“At Scamander’s banks we took our share,
your longbows brought us down like plague.
Now come, deliver us, heal us - Lord Apollo!”(Agamemnon, line 501)

The Herald’s version of the Helen and Paris story is probably reflective of what was actually thought by the men fighting against Troy. He justifies the destruction of Troy, including the destruction of the temples, because Paris was deserving of all of it due to his kidnapping and raping of Helen. The truth of the consensual relationship is unknown to these men.

“Convicted of rapine, stripped of all his spoils,
and his fathers house and the land that gave it life -
he’s scythed them to the roots.” (Agamemnon, line 525)

The message Clytemnestra sends the Herald away serves to show the cunning nature of the queen. She weaves into it foreshadowing of her intentions and hints as to her true feelings, all with a mask of an overjoyed wife. She says things like “Why prolong the story? From the king himself I’ll gather all I need.” This places a dark idea in the mind of the audience, who know the queen’s eventual intention. Also, to the Herald she speaks what I consider one of the best lines of the play. With complete sincerity (though false), Clytemnestra sends a message to her husband:

“The people’s darling - how they long for him.
And for his wife,
may he return and find her true at hall,
just as the day he left her, faithful to the last.” (Agam. line 600)

She speaks more about how she could no more betray him than “dye bronze”, but as we were later shown, she kills the king with a bronze weapon in the end.

The Herald brings news of the fallen or lost Greek warriors and leaders. When asked of Menelaus, he falters, not wanting to ruin the grand moment of being home and being apparently safe. Eventually, he tells Clytemnestra that Menelaus and his ships were lost at sea. This news ties up a loose end left when the Greeks destroyed the temples of the gods within the city walls of Troy, fulfilling the theme of Justice within the Greek drama. Greatly angered by this violence against them, the Olympians blow the returning Greeks off course, and drown many. This fulfills the Greek idea of Justice as Menelaus’ men were the greatest perpetrators of the pillaging of the temples.

The Herald’s news makes it clear that the returning king is alone, and thus will be easier for Clytemnestra to kill. Menelaus’ presence in Argos would have made it nearly impossible for the lady to murder Agamemnon without having herself also killed.

Another function of the Herald is his praise of the returning king, Agamemnon. He tells the chorus, its leader, and the queen of their king’s great achievements. He also reminds them to treat the long abroad commander as he deserves to be treated. The Herald builds up Agamemnon’s character in order to make his eventual fall that much more shocking and affecting.

This secondary character exposes and brings to mind many things that are going to happen later in the play. He brings an element of the common person to the play as well. Since the play is entirely about the royal couple, this was a smart move by Aeschylus, to incorporate an Argive warrior into the play’s structure.

Helplessness

**musical mood preference: Counting Crows - Closer To You**

Sometimes I feel ridiculously helpless in certain situations.

It started when my mom was sick, and then when I let my nihilistic outlook kill my fourth semester at Penn State. And lately its been how I feel when my friends need help. I do my best, but I always wish I could do more. Distance is always a problem. Whether they're at home, 50 miles from me, or at colleges of varying distances; its always hard to manage a problem when you can't provide the least bit of physical comfort.

I just want you to know that I wish I could help more. And call me if you ever need help.

Statistics for work since December 7th

**musical mood preference: Stone Temple Pilots - Seven Caged Tigers**



Essays written: 9
Total words: 18,655
Total pages: 65
Days: 9
Range of Topics: Sophocle's Oedipus Rex, Euripides' Medea, Aeschylus' Orestiad, Aristotle's Golden Mean, Abnormal Pyschology, James Joyce's The Dead, Henrik Ibsen's A Doll's House, Ovid's Metamorpheses, and Apocalypse Now.


It's over though. And now I have strep throat. But it is over.

Euripides & His Love of Chaos

The theme of Euripides Medea is near opposite of most of Ancient Greek drama that came both before and after it. Disorder, a thing most distasteful to a person of this era, is the key theme that runs through all of the minor sub-motifs that the playwright weaves into the piece. Greece, supposedly the bastion of Justice in the ancient world is absolutely lacking in this play. Justice is nowhere to be found, the murderer gets away, the man who deserves most to be slain for his crimes lives on, and innocent children die.

Medea represents the opposite of the Greek idea of moderation and the Golden Mean. According to the great Greek philosophers, the best means of living is with moderation in all things. Specifically, moderation was most important within the idea of the tripartite soul. Appetites such as hunger, power, and greed occupied one part of this platonic concept. Next came the spirit which encompasses ambition, pride and anger. Lastly, was the function of reason and its ability to control the prior two components of the soul. With an ideal amount of rationality, one would be able to accomplish a balance, or a mean, in order to attain the three cardinal virtues of the Ancient Greek world: Temperance, Courage and Wisdom. Once these virtues were achieved, the person in question would understand and practice the concept of Justice.

Medea has no sense of moderation in any facet of the concept. She understands only passion, and she acts and thinks through its haze. She does use reasoning, but in an adverse way. She uses her intellectual prowess to get whatever she wants, with no consideration for other people, even the ones she supposedly loves. She allows her greedy and power-hungry nature to take over her personality.

Even within the background of the play, there exists examples of the play’s chaos. The framework for the themes of Injustice and Chaos were present prior to Euripides ever putting his mind to the myth. Medea, so infatuated with the Greek hero, Jason, betrays her father and her homeland in order to win his love. She sacrifices her own citizenship, the most valuable possession of someone in the ancient world, in order to be with him. This blinding passion is the first example of chaotic schema within the storyline.

Not only does she sacrifice the safety of her homeland, Medea also murders her own brother in a gruesome fashion, chopping him into pieces and leaving them as hindrances for their pursuants. This is congruent with the sub-theme of love as “diseased” or love which “poisons” the mind of Medea. Love of Jason has sickened her mind to the point that she kills her own flesh and blood. This is also a foreshadowing as to what she is capable of later on.

Once Medea has learned of Jason’s betrayal, she immediately shifts from passionate love to passionate hatred. She wants nothing more than to make the captain of the Argo suffer and she is willing to do absolutely anything in order to bring on this hurt. And she begins to plan, deviously, to make this desire a reality. The mother of Jason’s children vows to see his new life smashed to pieces:

“My hateful husband. I pray that I may see him,
Him and his bride and all their palace shattered
For the wrong they dare to do to me without cause.” (Medea, line 161)

Medea’s lost love manifests itself as new over-indulgences, seemingly pride and rage. The banished princess refuses to be shamed and tossed aside for a bride with more to offer. She instead allows her rage to consume her and to direct her very sharp mind. She devises a very clever and very brutal of revenge, to strike back at the “hero” Jason.

Medea’s passion is inextricably entwined with her pride, and her self-image. She will not allow any person less intelligent than her to gain a foothold on her. This includes, the king of Corinth, Creon. The murderess states that because the king showed her the mercy of one last day in his city, she will kill him:

“By exiling me, he has given me this one day
To stay here, and in this I will make dead bodies
Of three of my enemies, - the father, the girl and my husband.”(Medea, ln 368)

Creon therefore has earned death simply by being less merciless than Medea. His weakness in the face of this hellishly astute woman signed his own death warrant.

Euripides brings nature as a metaphor into the early parts of the play, comparing Medea to a “lioness guarding her cubs.” This immediately made me consider species of animals who actually eat their young when they are posed with dangerous situations. Typically, this is most common in insect and reptilian species, but lions and tigers are also known to eat their own children. This was perhaps another means of foreshadowing for the playwright, in order to soften the blow of eventual infanticide. Euripides almost certainly purposefully did this, in order to claim that he gave fair warning for what was to come.

The playwright incorporates images of natural phenomenon of chaotic happenings. These are things that should never happen in the minds of rational people. One mentioned above is the mother killing her own cubs. Another is expressed in the lines:

“Flow backward to your sources, sacred rivers,
And let the world’s great order be reversed.”

Rivers flowing in reverse is a thing that I can say I’ve never seen, let alone considered normal. Disorder at its height. Natural and unexplained chaos.

Chaos even reaches into the classical unities of the play, namely time. Twice, characters appear without any solid explanation. First, Aigeus, the king of Athens, comes to Medea’s house to visit his old friend. At the time, she had been thinking of means of escape after her terrible deeds were done, Aigeus offers her that doorway. Later, after all the murdering of the play is done, Jason miraculously shows up to speak with her. This too is unexplained, as he should be at his wedding, rather than visiting his scorned and angry lover.

Rather than being punished for all of her crimes, Medea is, in the end, aided by the gods. Her chariot drawn by the dragons is Euripides last slap in the face to an audience already stunned by the events that unfolded before them on stage. In an attempt to cover his bases, the playwright throws in a half-hearted disclaimer:

Zeus in Olympus is the overseer
Of many doings. Many things the gods
Achieve beyond our judgment. What we thought
Is not confirmed and what we thought not god
Contrives. And so it happens in this story” (Medea, line 1390)

Things never happen the way they were “supposed” to. The good rarely end up on top, the bad nearly always do. Nothing goes “right,” the poor stay that way while the rich benefit from being rich by getting wealthier. The guilty walk free, while the innocent suffer. The world is cruel and no explanation as to why bad things happen is offered for the reasonable person. This was exactly Euripides point in allowing the barbarian murderess get off scott free, with no repercussions. Completely contradictory to all concepts of Justice, Medea escapes the play without a punishment. Hate, rather than Justice, is triumphant.

The Golden Mean in Agamemnon, Oedipus and Medea

The Golden Mean in Agamemnon, Oedipus and Medea


Passion is capable of driving an unfathomable series of crimes, wonders and feats. With this in mind, Aristotle formulated his idea of the virtuous Golden Mean. According to the great Greek philosopher, the best means of living is with moderation in all things. Specifically, moderation was most important within the idea of the tripartite soul. Appetites such as hunger, power, and greed occupied one part of this platonic concept. Next comes, the spirit which encompasses ambition, pride and anger. Lastly, was the function of reason and its ability to control the prior two components of the soul. With an ideal amount of rationality, one would be able to accomplish a balance, or a mean, in order to attain the three cardinal virtues of the Ancient Greek world: Temperance, Courage and Wisdom. Once these virtues were achieved, the person in question would understand and practice the concept of Justice.

This mean is not consistent for every person, and there is not a correct mean for every action. Each action has its own relative consequences. Applied to life, the Golden Mean is a way to dictate relative morality in society. By always taking a middle course of action, it is easier to avoid bad happenings and bad choices. This rational philosophy helps people to avoid letting their passions gain an upper hand on their temperance.

It is interesting to compare the Golden Mean to the Golden Rule of Christianity. In terms of the Golden Rule, the Mean would read “Do not unto others what you would not want done unto you” rather than the way Christians know it: “Do unto others as you would want done unto you.” A violation of this key caused a disproportionate set of circumstance, and was something to be despised in the ancient world. Disorder was the most feared, as Justice does not reign within a world of chaos.

A representation of the Golden Mean within Greek mythology is the tale of Icarus and Daedalus. The latter, the father, built wings for himself and his son so that they could escape the wrath of King Minos. Daedalus instructed Icarus in the fashion that he should fly saying, “fly the middle course,” meaning the place between the ocean’s coolness and the sun’s scorching heat. Happiness and harmony in life lies somewhere between, according to this simple philosophy. To fall anywhere but in the middle leaves you with an excess or defect, things despised by practitioners of this school of thought.

In the pieces we read, most of the main characters suffered from a violation of the Golden Mean. For some it was a combination of fractures of this guideline, including hubris, greed, anger and ambition.

Medea represents the opposite of the Greek idea of moderation and the Golden Mean. She has no sense of moderation in any facet of the concept. She understands only passion, and she acts and thinks through its haze. She does use reasoning, but in an adverse way. She uses her intellectual prowess to get whatever she wants, with no consideration for other people, even the ones she supposedly loves. She allows her greedy and power-hungry nature to take over her personality.

However, breaking tradition, Euripides does not “punish” his strong female character for her disregard for the harmony of life. Justice is not fulfilled in this story. Rather, she is rewarded with a clean and safe escape from danger. The playwright covers his bases by claiming it was the will of the gods that this woman escaped, and the gods are beyond reproach. This did not save him from criticism from citizens used to the plays of Aeschylus and Sophocles, where everything works out.
Jason is also in violation of the Mean. He sins in more than one way. Full of pride, he says that Medea should be happy that she even felt the presence of such a great Greek hero. Here, he is blatantly in excess of pride. Jason earlier sinned with excess of ambition and greed by leaving his common law wife and children to pursue a more financial stable situation. For his violations, Jason pays with the lives of his new bride and his children. However, he does not pay with his life, as Medea so desired.

Sophocles’ plays were very concerned with what would later be known as the Golden Mean. His tragic heros all come to ruin because of violations of the Mean. Antigone falls because of excessive love for her brother, fallen in battle. Grieving, she could not bear to have her brother be damned forever without proper burial rites, so she went out onto the battlefield in violation of the king’s decree, to perform the ritual. Her lack of moderation in love caused her death. Aristotle would have said she failed to reason her situation correctly. Reasoning was key to all things according to the students of Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. To “think well”, rationally, was the most important and fulfilling thing in life.

In Oedipus, many of the characters violate the Mean in similar ways. The title character, afraid of his fate, believes that he can somehow avoid it by running away from what he believes is his homeland. Little does he know that his fate was already written in stone. Oedipus was guilty of excessive pride for his flight from Corinth and his continuing belief that he could out run his prophecy.

For Aeschylus, the Golden Mean was also important. Within his plays, violations of the rule always led to the ruin of that character. Sacrificing his daughter for his own personal gain, Agamemnon is guilty of excessive greed and ambition. Iphigenia, his most beloved daughter, was not worth as much to him as wind for his sails. Exceeding in anger, Clytemnestra also violates the Mean by plotting and killing Cassandra and Agamemnon. Both the title character and the murderess are guilty of hubris, Clytemnestra for believing she can get away with her crime of passion and Agamemnon for his walk across the tapestries. Each of these characters comes to ruin because of their digressions from the guideline. Orestes returns to avenge his fallen father, and the circle is effectively closed. The gods pardon the young man for his unavoidable part in the tragedy and the curse is finished.

The plays of Sophocles and Aeschylus employ the Golden Mean as a mean of neatly tying up the loose ends of the characters of the play. This is also helpful in bringing a finality to a piece, as all the characters get what they had coming to them. Euripides, however, is less strict about the function of this rule within his plays. He uses it for his own ends as a writer, but does not employ it as stringently as the other two playwrights we read.

It's About Damn Time

musical mood preference: The Doors - Crystal Ship




I finally finished all the essays. Now all that's left is:

Ethics final - tomorrow at 10:15
2 short psych summaries
Psych final - Thursday at 10:15

Then I'm freaking done. Thank god.

SAVE ME

Someone please save me from this pile of essays before I snap and climb the clocktower.



I'm going up if I don't get these done soon. And I'm taking shiny metallic friends.

ARGH

“The Dead” and “A Doll’s House”: A Comparison

(Part 2)

The male characters of this play share many trivial and not so trivial events and idiosyncrasies. Ibsen’s Torvald, much like Joyce’s Gabriel does not eat sweets. The difference is that Gabriel’s distaste for sugars is his only, Torvald forces his preference upon his wife as well and gets angry when she does not follow suit. Both men do not think very highly of their spouses intellectual abilities. Mr. Conroy refers to his wife as unthinking and Torvald repeatedly demeans his wife, calling her a “featherbrain”, “scatterbrains” and “child”. Torvald’s treatment of his wife is much more condescending than Gabriel’s manner with Gretta.

In both of these tales, doll-like women surprise their husbands with acts of individuality. Nora’s expression of individualism is more about independence, while Gretta Conroy’s is a reminiscence of times past. Both marriages are at an impasse, and while the male characters feel a reemergence of their former passion, the female characters have different ideas. Nora proclaims that Torvald is at fault for keeping her in a “doll’s house,” and she wishes she could have made more of her life. Differing, Gretta reflects on a dead lover, a side that Gabriel had never known of his wife. On the topic of the dead love, Theoharis points out that Joyce actually seems to borrow this from another Ibsen piece, Hedda Gabler, in which a dead lover of the female character hangs over the relationship between her and her husband.

Each husband suffers an amount of humiliation during the stories, though Gabriel’s embarrassment is of his own creation. His ignorance of the reputation of The Daily Express is his own fault, and being confronted by the intellectual nationalist Miss Ivors was an eventuality. Torvald is embarrassed of his wife’s flat out disregard for his “authority” and place as husband. Nora’s rejection of the false image Torvald had created in his mind is the source of his chagrin. She was not the child he wanted her to be, she was an independent and playful woman.

Each man, recognizing a lull in the passion of their marriage finds himself overcome with passion for his wife. Gretta and Nora both dance at the respective Christmas parties, enticing their significant others into thoughts of bedroom passion. This romanticism is reinforced when both men express desire for the opportunity to demonstrate their love by saving their “helpless” wives from danger. Gabriel wants to “defend [Gretta] against something” and Torvald wishes “some danger” against Nora so that he has the chance to “risk body and soul to save her.”

It is therefore justifiable to say that Gabriel is at least in part taken from Ibsen’s Torvald. Many critics claim that he is created mostly from Joyce himself, and also from Joyce’s father, but the above relationships show that Torvald and Gabriel’s connection is more than happenstance. Both men share so many tiny details and actions, as well as idiosyncracies that it would be too coincidental that two authors, so closely link would create two characters resembling each other as nearly as Gabriel and Torvald.

“The Dead” and “A Doll’s House”: A Comparison

(PART 1)


It is well known that James Joyce, like so many other authors, often borrowed situations, characters and events from his own personal experience. What is not as well known is that Joyce often melded other pieces of literature for the framework of his stories. This is the case when considering Joyce’s short story “The Dead”, the final piece of his collection of short stories, Dubliners.

Joyce had a lifelong admiration for the socially-aware playwright Henrik Ibsen and actually wrote a short volume of criticism on selected plays of the Norwegian. The Irishman shared with Ibsen a strong dislike of the over-nationalistic sentiment brewing in the corners of Europe’s most oppressed areas. Joyce also respected Ibsen’s stance on many controversial issues, stances which would cause many Europeans to squirm in their seats and ‘boo’ a number of the Scandinavian writer’s greatest works.

Joyce’s first serious piece of literary criticism (actually less a criticism and more of an expression of devotion) was directed at one of the many socially critical plays of Ibsen. Joyce’s review of When We Dead Waken in the Fortnightly Review was well received in literary circles, and Ibsen himself even painstakingly translated the piece to see what this young Irishman had to say about him. Ibsen, after reading the overworked and over-polished review, wrote back to James. Many point to this as one of the key events in Joyce’s early literary life.

Joyce so admired Ibsen that he used much of his play, A Doll’s House as a scaffold for “The Dead.” Joyce recognized something personal to him in the domestic problems of Torvald and Nora and decided to fashion his own story around the framework of that play. Joyce spoke of his lukewarm attitude regarding this specific Ibsen play, but he was obviously touched enough by its plot and theme to include them as outlines for many of the main events of “The Dead”.

The stories are set around Christmas-time, with snow as a shared theme. “The snow was general all over Ireland”, as the prolific Irish author penned. Snow in both plays seems to be symbolic of death, as winter often metaphorically represents the decline of life. Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 73” is a prime example of this theme of comparing seasons to the stages of life.

Death is a pervading theme within both literary pieces. Joyce’s “Michael Furey” represents the nature of death, hanging over the head of Gabriel Conroy, while Ibsen’s “Dr. Rank” repeatedly brings the theme of death into A Doll’s House, reminding the play’s characters of his impending death from an inherited congenital disease. Once again, death dangles over the play, though not in as dominant or thematically central a manner compared to “The Dead”.

Also dealing with the Christmas theme is the traditional acceptance of miracles and sentimentality around that time of year. The irony of both of Torvald and Gabriel is the fact that they each deny the actuality of miracles, even at the most miracle-likely time of year. Both men also deny the sentimental nature of their countrymen, while they themselves are reminiscing about times past with their significant others.

Gabriel dreams of a time when he and Gretta shared a secret and hidden love saying that he misses their “life together that no one knew of”and then reminisces about their honeymoon filled with passion. Torvald, too, wishes their love was a secret passion which “no one knew of,” saying “I am fancying that we love each other in secret...and that no one dreams that there is anything between us.” Shortly after that statement he expresses that he wishes she was just as he remembers her on their wedding, his new bride.

Monica Bellucci & Rachel Weisz- Absolutely Gorgeous

**musical mood preference: Irish Brigade - Little Armalite**

You might remember her as Mary Magdelene in Passion of the Christ or Persephone (the French asshole's wife) from the second and third Matrix movies.

She and Rachel Weisz are what I consider to be two of the most beautiful women in all of show business. I think I just have a thing for women with class and ethereal beauty. They're not too thin, not too thick and the exude sexiness. They're just perfect in my mind.

Monica is brilliant, an Italian law student turned actress, she is fluent in five languages.

Rachel went to Cambridge for English and was a stage virtuoso in London circles. She also speaks multiple languages fluently.

Smart women make me go all knobby-knees.

Joycean wit

**musical mood preference: Kottonmouth Kings - Peace Not Greed**

Have I expressed that I love James Joyce? Here's another reason:

(When asked what he thought of Virginia Woolf....)

"An impressive name . . . she married her wolfish husband purely in order to change her name. Virginia Stephens is not a name for an exploratory authoress. I shall write a book some day about the appropriateness of names. Geoffrey Chaucer has a ribald ring, as is proper and correct, and Alexander Pope was inevitably Alexander Pope. Colley Cibber was a silly little man without much elegance and Shelley was very Percy and very Bysshe."

Wit with no end. Beautiful. Now, only if I understood a fucking thing Finnegans Wake says. Spend 3 months reading something, you think you'd come out of it with an idea of theme, plot, etc. But FUCK NO. I'm sure there's plenty of wit and irony and humor buried in that 700 page leviathan, but I for one cannot decipher it.

Pitching and my bad habits

**musical mood preference: Ben Harper - Brown Eyed Blues**

I always get the urge to go throwing at the oddest times. Be it in class or now, at 2.56AM. It's almost always at a socially inappropriate time. Then, when I'm just sitting around on my fat ass... NOTHING. NO MOTIVATION. The bizarre workings of a lazy procrastinating Irishman.

Now, going to the gym I have no problem with; I go nearly the same time every day. That has become routine, but because of the shoddy status of my elbow, whether I'm inclined to throw is very much dependent on whether or not it feels like I'm going to tear something. Stupid non-healing injuries.

I usually throw against the big concrete wall in Hamilton Park in Kingston, but I'm almost now certain that I've pissed off all of the people who live near that park with late-night, hour+ long incessant thudding of leather and twine on concrete.

So many hinderances causes me to rarely throw anymore. Plus... it's getting fricken cold out.

OK Cupid Personality Test

Remember that Nice Guys Finish Last.

OK Cupid Personality Test


Kind, yearning, playful, you are: The Boy Next Door. You're looking for real Love, a lot like girls do. It might not be manly, but it's sweet.

We think the next three years will be very exciting and fruitful ones for you. Your spontaneous, creative side makes you a charming date, and we think you have a horny side just waiting to shine. Or glisten, rather. You enter new relationships unusually hopeful, and the first moments are especially glorious. If you've had some things not work out before, so what.

On paper, most girls would name the Boy Next Door as their ideal mate. In the real world, however, you're often passed over for more dangerous or masculine men. You're the typical "nice guy:" without just a touch of cockiness, you're doomed with girls. A shoulder to cry on? Okay, sure. But never a penis to hold.

More than any other type, Boys Next Door evolve as they get older. As we said, many find true love, but some fail miserably in the search. These tarnished few grow up to be The Men Next Door, who are creepy as hell, offering backrubs to kids and what not.


ALWAYS AVOID: The Nymph

CONSIDER: The Maid of Honor, The Peach

Sick = GOOD SLEEP

**musical mood preference: Jimi Hendrix - The Wind Cries Mary**

I should get sick more often. I literally slept for fourteen hours. I'm pretty sure I just passed out and woke up at 2 o'clock. So much for the last day of classes! It would have been nice to have my philosophy and literature reviews, but I think I'll be ok.

Anyway, that's it for now. I have a lot of writing to do.

Random Facts About Me.

Here is just a random set of facts about me. Induced by too many cups of coffee too early in the morning. This is based on a framework taken from another site. I felt all warm and fuzzy, so I felt like sharing.

Onto the Facts:

-- I have a sweet tooth and I would weigh about 300lbs if not for practiced self-control and exercise.

-- I love the sport of baseball. Everything about it. Watching, playing, EVERYTHING.

-- I have every book that James Joyce ever wrote, even the partial novella Stephen Hero.

-- I have felt so strongly about someone that I was very willing to spend the rest of my life with them.

-- There was a time in my life when I was unable to listen to anything other than Nirvana. There was also a good year when the album "Anti-Christ SuperStar" never went back into its case - it was always in my stereo or in my discman. My grandmother was mortified.

-- I've had obsessions of varying lengths with Buffy, Dawson's Creek, OZ, The Sopranos, Brimstone, and X-Files.

-- I've seen Rocky Horror Picture Show more times than I can even fathom at this point.

-- I used to have a habit for carrying on crushes too long. Ask Brianna.

-- My favorite movies include Monty Python & The Holy Grail, When Harry Met Sally, Snatch, Office Space, Dogma, Fight Club, amongst many others.

-- I was in drama club for 3 years. I was involved in South Pacific (stage crew baby!), The Christmas Pageant and one I can't remember right now.

-- I have about 25 first cousins and countless second cousins and they are all interesting people.

-- I've had two long-term girl-friends, both of whom I still am very fond of.

-- I love alternative music.

-- I have terrible eyesight.

-- My worst fears are losing people I love and disappointing those same people.

-- I love Guinness and I love whiskey.

-- I cannot and will not function without a cup of tea or coffee in the morning. This is a recent development.

-- I only need 5 or 6 hours of sleep. I can function well on 3 or 4.

-- I am the oldest of 3 kids. My other brothers are 16 (17 in 6 days) and 15.

-- I think the Bible is a great read. So are the myths of the Buddhists and Hindus, as well as the mythologies of Native Americans, Africans and the Irish.

-- My favorite weather is a sunny day in late fall.

-- My favorite kind of nights are ones in which there are a few clouds but the stars still resonate.

-- I miss certain parts of every relationship I've ever been in. Be it hanging out and watching TV, intellectual discussions, a smell, or even just kissing that person.

-- My parents are caring and generous people. I owe them everything.

-- I worry about my future. I worry about my loved ones' futures.

-- I have great friends. From all periods of my life.

-- I frequently walk while reading a book.

-- My favorite places on earth are:
Ring of Kerry (Ireland)
Harvey's Lake (PA)
Narragansett Beach (RI)
Manhatten
Brooklyn
all Gaeltacht (Ireland)

-- I have never cheated on a significant other. Never. Not even a kiss.

-- I lived on Cherry St in Montrose, in a house that looks like it could be blown down by the wind.
I lived in a two bedroom house in Springville, PA
I lived in dorms in University Park at the Pennsylvania State University.
I lived on Mt. Olivet Rd in Dallas Township, PA.
I now lived in Forty Fort, PA.

-- I love biographies. Especially, Richard Ellmann's biographies of James Joyce and Oscar Wilde, and Isaacsons bio of Ben Franklin, amongst others.

-- I'd like to have kids. Or, at least, a child.

-- I love the Beatles. Ever since I discovered "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" in 6th grade.

-- I sweat alot. Isn't that fun?

-- My favorite teachers were:
Ms. Zenger (2nd grade)
Mr. Parker (Trigonometry and Calculus)
Mr. Hopkins (Biology and Advanced Biology)
Harry Ehrie (Baseball)

-- I had my first real kiss at 13 years of age. Some of you probably know who it was.

-- I vividly remember my dreams. This has not always been the case. Occasionally I have dreams that reach lucidity.

-- I was raised Catholic, but have long since become disillusioned with organized religion's take on how things HAVE to be. I want to know my God on my own terms and not within the parameters of a cultish society.

-- I am envious of some of my friends relationships with their significant others. I sometimes wish I could have what they have.

-- I have always been fascinated by madness. Hence my love for Edgar Allan Poe.

-- My father has given me a sense of history and cultural community.

-- I have never dyed my hair. I accidentally bleached it once though. It turned orangish. I was amused. Others were also amused

-- Things I need to do before I die:
Live in Ireland
Love someone completely, and have them love me equally.

-- Ongoing passions:
History
Love
Literature
Most things Irish

-- I remember playing touch football during recess by Ehrie's house and Jimmy Orr's house. Those were the days. Ehrie was always quarterback.

-- My brother JP is a good wrestler and a bright kid, even if he's a dumbass.

-- My brother Matt is better at guitar than I ever was.

-- My mom is a strong and wonderful lady.

-- My dad works too hard, but I respect him highly for it.


There's so much more. If you have questions or want me to add something, ask me on AIM.

More Verbal Softcore Pornography

More reasons I love James Joyce. Parts of his writing are so romantic and so passionate. I just feel entranced by the words, repeating them in my mind. You need to read this one outloud, emphasizing the bold words:

I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes.

Well, hot damn.

James Joyce's Romanticism

**musical mood preference: Counting Crows - Round Here (live acoustic)**

Taking notes and researching for a comparative lit paper due next week, I came across some of my favourite passages from Joyce's Ulysses. I just thought I'd share. To me, this following passage from Chapter 8: Lestrygonians creates the imagery of how kissing actually feels:

Glowing wine on his palate lingered swallowed. Crushing in the winepress grapes of Burgundy. Sun's heat it is. Seems to a secret touch telling me memory. Touched his sense moistened remembered. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth. Below us bay sleeping sky. No sound. The sky. The bay purple by the Lion's head. Green by Drumleck. Yellowgreen towards Sutton. Fields of undersea, the lines faint brown in grass, buried cities. Pillowed on my coat she had her hair, earwigs in the heather scrub my hand under nape, you'll toss me all. O wonder! Coolsoft with ointments her hand touched me, caressed: her eyes upon me did not turn away. Ravished over her I lay, full lips full open, kissed her mouth. Yum. Softly she gave me in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Mawkish pulp her mouth had mumbled sweet and sour with spittle. Joy: I ate it: joy. Young life, her lips that gave me pouting. Soft, warm, sticky gumjelly lips. Flowers her eyes were, take me, willing eyes. Pebbles fell. She lay still. A goat. No-one. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, dropping currants. Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. Wildly I lay on her, kissed her; eyes, her lips, her stretched neck, beating, woman's breasts full in her blouse of nun's veiling, fat nipples upright. Hot I tongued her. She kissed me. I was kissed. All yielding she tossed my hair. Kissed, she kissed me.

The thoughts and feelings that go through your mind while kissing passionately. The beauty of romance.

I love Joyce.

More later...

Strangely Alone

**musical mood preference: Van Morrison - Baby Please Don't Go**

"The whole conviction of my life now rests upon the belief that loneliness, far from being a rare and curious phenomenon, peculiar to myself and to a few other solitary men, is the central and inevitable fact of human existence." -Thomas Wolfe

Does anyone else get an occasional fleeting feeling that they are utterly alone? It's not necessarily always a bad feeling, just an unsettling one, one that brings the mind clarity. No matter how hard one tries to be open to all people, at unpredictable moments in life, they will inevitably be in a state of unexplainable solitude.

Sometimes being alone is a great companion, other times it can be extremely disheartening and cause distraught.

Bad Timing

**muscial mood preference: Dido - Here With Me**

Sometimes I wish the timing of life were a little better. Bad timing is the story of my life lately. But, to be echoic: that's just life.

Despite life's little timing twists, I am thoroughly grateful to know what I know and have experienced what I have experienced. It's all been beneficial in shaping who I am now proud to be.

Sorry for the late night heart pouring.


You know who you are and I wish you all the happiness in the entire world. You deserve it and more. Kisses and hugs to last a lifetime.

Another of those time fillers

here's another of those space filling things. It's 130am on a Tuesday morning, so its allowed.

Step 1: Open your MP3 program.
Step 2: Put all of your music on random.
Step 3: Write down the first twenty songs it plays, no matter how embarrassing.

1. Counting Crows - Round Here
2. Wolfe Tones - Rifles of the IRA
3. Van Morrison - Baby Please Don't Go
4. Tim McGraw - Where the Green Grass Grows
5. Robbie Williams - Angel
6. The Stranglers - Golden Brown
7. Dido - I'm No Angel
8. The Smiths - The Charming Man
9. Black 47 - I Got Laid on James Joyce's Grave
10. Irish Brigade - Little Armalite
11. The Unseen - Scream Out
12. Method Man - Bring the Pain
13. Dvorak's New World Symph. - 1st Mov't
14. Nirvana - Negative Creep
15. Fleetwood Mac - Gold Dust Woman
16. Johnny Cash - Hurt
17. Timbuk 3 - Gotta Wear Shades
18. Sinead O'Connor - Paddy's Lament
19. Peter Frampton - Baby I love Your Way
20. Van Morrison - Brown Eyed Girl

Pet Peeve

**musical mood preference: The Doors - When the Music's Over**

You know what I really hate? Being put on hold for extended periods of time.

If I have to stay on hold for a HALF AN HOUR to ask a simple question, your company needs more employees or maybe a more efficient means of dealing with customer service.

What really pisses me off... when these companies have automated messages about how long it will be until you get to talk to a real person. "This call will be addressed in approximately 30 minutes." That makes me furious! 30 MINUTES?! FUCK YOU, COMPUTERIZED VOICE!!!!

ARGH!!!

Weekend

**musical mood preference: Green Day - She**

The weekend was wonderful. It took my mind off of upcoming finals and papers being due as well as the fact that my computer fried itself. I am currently at my mom's typing this.

I had an interesting and all around good weekend at Mansfield with Brianna and company. Thank you to all who made it a good time.

PS: I fooled around with the HTML in the template of this site and removed the built in comments (which only members can use, WTF?) and inserted another commenting thing so everyone can comment if they want to.

Cultural Conflict and Joyce’s “The Dead” - Part 2

Irish history views the period of 1900-1916 as one of growing nationalistic spirit. James Joyce was not a participant in this rise in patriotism for Ireland. On the contrary, he was almost critical of its brashness. This is strange considering many of his closest friends in his twenties were pround nationalists. These men included the feminist Francis Sheehy Skeffington, Thomas Kettle, and George Clancy. On a side note, all three of these men would die in combat.

This illustrious author, known widely for being Irish, was never much for his own country (though he often said Dublin was the only place he was truly comfortable). Joyce would not participate in the Irish theatre or show his support for the Easter Uprising in 1916. His indifference to the Gaelic Revival and the growing base of nationalism is reflected in his writing from this period. His character Gabriel Conroy mirrors these opinions, though he has a hard time expressing them in public, just as Joyce did.

This personal history and the fact that many of Gabriel opinions are shared by the author foreshadow that Mr. Conroy does not concern himself with Irish matters. Joyce is very comparable to Gabriel in situations such as these. Neither of the men concern themselves with Irish affairs and attempt to avoid discussing them in public situations. Similar to his character, Joyce traveled around much of Western Europe. He too was "sick of [Ireland]".

Gabriel, an intellectual, but not of the Gaelic persuasion, converses with Miss Ivors, a fellow academic at his aunts’ (also Joyce’s aunts) party. During this conversation, she states that she is "ashamed" of Gabriel and charges that Mr. Conroy is a "West Briton" for authoring a column in the pro-British Daily Express. This term is particularly offensive to an Irish nationalist, as it implies that rather than considering yourself Irish, you fancy yourself British, except for geography. Rather than be miffed by the comment itself, Gabriel is disconcerted by the public manner in which the lady went about approaching him.

The conversation goes on with Miss Ivors inviting the now disgruntled Gabriel to attend a getaway to the Aran Islands. This place, off the West Coast of Ireland was regarded as an ideal world by members of the Gaelic League. WB Yeats and Maude Gonne often spent long periods of time in the Arans. This group of islands contained a small native Irish speaking population and all the beauty of mainland Eire. It was revered as the utopia for Gaeilge fanatics. Gabriel expresses his distaste with the West of Ireland by telling the lady that he already has plans to participate in a cycling tour in Europe. Miss Ivors is obviously angered by this, that an educated Irishman would rather visit foreign countries than learn more about his own homeland. She expresses as much by asking, "And why do you go to France and Belgium...instead of visiting your own land?" Gabriel answers that he likes to "keep in touch with the languages" and just to get out of Ireland. The lady retorts that he should first keep in touch with his "own language", meaning Irish Gaelic. Obviously not considering Gaeilge at all, Gabriel flat out states that Irish is not his language.

Since Jonathan Swift, many of the greatest Irish literary figures wished nothing to do with Gaelic. Swift, Shaw, Wilde, and Joyce are the most obvious people this applies to. But it is interesting to note that did Joyce studied Irish as a student, as reflected by Daedalus in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, but did not identify it as his native language.

With age Joyce becomes softer with his opinions of the Irish. Ellman quotes him as writing in a letter to his brother, "Sometimes thinking of Ireland it seems to me that I have been unnecessarily harsh."(Ellman, 231) This type of reconciliation is typical of Joyce’s writing, as demonstrated by the conclusion to "The Dead." As closure to his story, Joyce ends with the ambiguous line: "The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. This statement indicated that Gabriel, much like Joyce, has somewhat accepted his Irishness, and the west as a part of Ireland. Joyce himself struggled with this problem, but he too was cured of it by his wife. Nora had a fierce love for her region, no matter its reputation among the Dublin elite. Joyce eventually visited this Gaelic haven after being pulled by Nora, making the ending of "The Dead" a type of self-prophesy.

Cultural Conflict and Joyce’s “The Dead” - Part 1

Joyce’s "The Dead" aptly reflects the cultural environment of early 20th century Dublin. During this period, commonly referred to literarily as the Irish Renaissance, nationalism began to sprout from literary influence. Among the major figures responsible for this outburst of Irish literature were William Butler Yeats, John Millington Synge, Sean O’Casey, and Lady Gregory. For his entire life, Joyce was at odds with this movement and many of those identified with it, and never really associated himself with the "renaissance".

Within this acclaimed story, Joyce presents a number of cultural difficulties for his main character, conflicts that he personally faced. He received frequent criticism for his stands on these issues. From his ostensibly aloof position on Irish nationalism to his seeming distaste for his own country, Joyce only strengthened his critics’ arguments.

Initially, the story’s cultural conflict is one of location. Even in the present, Dublin is the place to be in Ireland; those inside County Dublin disdainfully refer to those outside the county as "culchies" or "boggers". This is comparable to a comment of Gabriel Conroy’s mother concerning his son’s wife. In describing his bride, Mrs. Conroy referred to Galway Gretta as "country cute", implying that she could not measure up to the status of a Dublin girl. This phrase also indicates that Gabriel’s mother considered Gretta to be from a lower class, and therefore did not deserve to be with her son. This is very unsettling for the young husband, who tends to dwell on all events of conflict, big or small. Gretta Conroy is a near reflection of Nora Barnacle Joyce, herself a westerner and sharing many qualities of the character presented in "The Dead". She too had a lover who died young, just as Gretta’s Michael Furey "died for her."

Joyce’s relationship is much like Gretta and Gabriel’s relationship, in that Joyce was a fiercely jealous man, and admitted to it. He initially viewed his marriage to Nora as rescuing her from the bog that was Galway. He so disdained the west of Ireland as an ill reputed, cesspool of uneducated miscreants, that he was shocked to find such a beautiful and sharp woman such as Nora. Richard Ellman believes that for Gabriel (and Joyce early in his life), "the west of Ireland is connected...with a dark and rather painful primitivism, an aspect of his country which he has steadily abjured by going off to the continent. The west is savagery; to the east and south lie people who drink wine and wear galoshes." (Ellman, 248.)

Irish history views the period of 1900-1916 as one of growing nationalistic spirit. James Joyce was not a participant in this rise in patriotism for Ireland. On the contrary, he was almost critical of its brashness. This is strange considering many of his closest friends in his twenties were pround nationalists. These men included the feminist Francis Sheehy Skeffington, Thomas Kettle, and George Clancy. On a side note, all three of these men would die in combat.

This illustrious author, known widely for being Irish, was never much for his own country (though he often said Dublin was the only place he was truly comfortable). Joyce would not participate in the Irish theatre or show his support for the Easter Uprising in 1916. His indifference to the Gaelic Revival and the growing base of nationalism is reflected in his writing from this period. His character Gabriel Conroy mirrors these opinions, though he has a hard time expressing them in public, just as Joyce did.

This personal history and the fact that many of Gabriel opinions are shared by the author foreshadow that Mr. Conroy does not concern himself with Irish matters. Joyce is very comparable to Gabriel in situations such as these. Neither of the men concern themselves with Irish affairs and attempt to avoid discussing them in public situations. Similar to his character, Joyce traveled around much of Western Europe. He too was "sick of [Ireland]".

Ah, Woody Allen & Nihilism. Happy Day.

**musical mood preference: The Smiths - Unhappy Birthday**

This dialogue from Woody Allen's Play It Again Sam (1972) just made me think of the weather today and how it makes me feel when its like this outside. The power of a smile and a laugh is immeasurable.

A recent discussion with a cute lady about Nihilism and Existentialism immediately made this portion of the movie stick in my mind.

WOODY ALLEN: That’s quite a lovely Jackson Pollock, isn’t it?
GIRL IN MUSEUM: Yes it is.
WOODY ALLEN: What does it say to you?
GIRL IN MUSEUM: It restates the negativeness of the universe, the hideous lonely emptiness of existence, nothingness, the predicament of man forced to live in a barren, godless eternity, like a tiny flame flickering in an immense void, with nothing but waste, horror, and degradation, forming a useless bleak straightjacket in a black absurd cosmos.
WOODY ALLEN: What are you doing Saturday night?
GIRL IN MUSEUM: Committing suicide.
WOODY ALLEN: What about Friday night?
GIRL IN MUSEUM: [leaves silently] .

The Beauty of Recognition

'Blog' tops U.S. dictionary's new words

Ah the revolution is on. A blogger for nearly 2 years, I'm happy to report that we've been added to Webster's dictionary. Congratulations.

Learners with Exceptionalities - Part 1

The topic of "learners with exceptionalities" stuck home for me. I spent my entire schooling period in some facet of the special education system, as has my younger brother. Our areas of special ed are polar opposites, but through my experience with his educational problems, I learned a lot about both sides of this important part of education.

The educational system tries its best to meet individual needs of students, but looking the grand scheme of things the fact remains that public schools must do their best to teach efficiently to the greatest number of students. This utilitarian thinking is to be expected given the tough situation teachers and administration are put in regarding the broad spectrum of students they are allotted.

Sometimes, the normal classroom setting is not conducive to the greatest amount of learning for certain individuals. This can be atrributed to many things, including behavioral problems, mental retardation, physical disabilities, or giftedness; but it is important that special needs children are given the best opportunity to show what they can do given the best situation possible.

My focuses within the topic of exceptionalities are speech disorders and giftedness, since these are the things I am most familiar with in my educational experience.

Speech disorders are most common in children in kindergarten and first grade. Many children with minor impediments "grow out" of their disorder with age. This is why many speech therapists choose not to treat most children with slight speech difficulties. Students, such as myself, with more serious speech problems are given speech therapy from trained professionals. Most schools have a speech therapist or pathologist on staff and they are usually very busy people, as this is a common problem with younger children.

It is important that children are taught from a young age not to tease or mock speech impaired children. Often, rejection and teasing can leave permanent scars on kids who already have insecurities about their difficulty speaking correctly. Teachers need to be aware of speech problems and avoid putting children with these deficiencies into situations where they will be embarrassed.

"Gifted" is a term used to describe children who perform oustandingly in the intellectual and/or creative sectors. In the past, being gifted merely meant an exceptional IQ score, but now the definition has expanding to mean a proficiency in any number of areas, including art and mathematics. Anymore, defining giftedness is very dependent on individual states requirements.

Curriculum involving gifted students range from acceleration programs to enrichment programs, each of which have their benefits and detriments. Acceleration programs involve a variety of things, including skipping grades, teaching higher maths at younger ages, and summarizing easier portions of material to speed up lessons. Advocates of acceleration believe that it would be more beneficial for gifted students to learn high school material quicker and enter into college at an earlier age.

Enrichment programs are usually independent study-type learning environments involving exploratory devices for learning and bolstering problem-solving skills. Often these exercises are directed towards a specific project, such as producing a magazine or a lengthy research paper. Group work is also focused on in this type of program. A group of gifted students are given a difficult logical problem and solve it together, bouncing ideas off of each other in order to work through the problem. Advocates of this type of gifted program believe that enrichment paths help these above average students in their higher learning efforts and better prepare them for more difficult topics.

Myths about "gifted" people being weak and physically below normal were dispelled in a study which found students with IQs over 140 were often stronger, bigger and physically adept compared to students of lesser mental capabilities. Research shows the image of the "brainy nerd" is just that, a myth.