3:10 am
   My goodness! Nearly a half an hour late. tsk tsk. That would never have been permitted in sunny CA. I just caught the 2:40 am bus from Aiken, SC to Columbia — at nearly 3:10 am. Even Mussolini made the trains run on time . . .      How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, is laid for your faith in His excellent Word.

4:50 am (ex post facto)
   That was interesting! A thirty-one-year-old black man (please don't take this as racism, but merely reporting!), who I have the slightest suspicion is “not all there” just came up and started talking to me. I was working on my computer at the time, teaching myself cascading style sheets. I use PageSpinner for my web design, and even my weblog posts (I post by email, mostly, and don't have any other way to preview posts), and it has a great learn-by-example section. I do seem to digress often, do I not? Anyway, he was talking to me, I was nodding and "mm-hmm"ing while I worked. The reason I suspect his faculties is that he didn't seem in the slightest to notice what I was doing (i.e. not giving him my undivided attention).

7:30 am (ex post facto)
   I don't know how I did it, but I got a good three hours of sleep on that bus. Twisting, curling, etc., etc., but I slept. Once I woke up, however, I couldn't get back to sleep. Back to CSS . . . My CSS learning project is going to be a deliberate creative work in its own right: poetry in which each word (or at least many words) link(s) to another poem. It's going to be one of those midget site-in-a-square type of artsy things.

12:11 pm
   As I write this (and the previous two posts), Savannah begins doing her best to drench my computer and I. I had better post this and be off.

Crosspost: Random Quill and Scraps

I was just looking at Flickr, and saw this really cool photo. It's a great macro shot, I think. The only real non-photogenic part of the picture is the remainder of the bud sheath sticking to the top of the flower head.

Onion Originally uploaded by deadbody.

Embrangle: \Em*bran''gle\, v. t. [Mid-17th Cent.: em- (L. "in") + brangle (obs. "to shake, squabble" > Fr. branler "to shake"]
(past em bran gled
p. part. em bran gled
pres. part. em bran gling
pres. sing. em bran gles
noun em bran gle ment

v. t.1 arch. make more complicated or confused through entanglements; confuse or entangle
v. t.2 arch. confuse, perplex, or entangle somebody or something

Webster's Second New International Dictionary (1913) cites:

I am lost and embrangled in inextricable difficulties. —Berkeley.

(That is quite an artistic way to use the word. Even as a word heretofore unfamiliar to me, it doesn't sound in the least out of place . . .)

   I hate MSN, I hate Encarta, I hate Microsoft, but for some odd reason, I found this list of 10 Words You Simply Must Know on Google. Tenth on the list, after the leader, "defenestrate", and following "cullet", "pellucid", and others, lay a beautiful archaic word: "embrangle". Needless to say, I quickly looked up the etymology (I refuse to use "Google" as a verb) online, and made a long-pondered decision in a moment's time to expose this word from one more (albeit small) venue to the minds of the world.
Public, educate thyself.

Crosspost: Scraps and Academic Musings

parasols: a notebook

   This is one of the truly good weblogs. I don't know what to say, other than she is a fantastic writer, whatever she turns her pen to. Check out the laylock homepage as well. Just read. I can't do it justice.
Crosspost: Scraps and Random Quill

Teahouse Review: Gryphon Tea Room

The first things to note upon entering are the high ceilings, classic dark wood decorations, and shelves displaying antique plates and glasses. Housed in an adapted turn-of-the-century pharmacy, this tearoom is an ideal size: large enough for a crowd, yet small enough to offer privacy.

   The Gryphon Tea Room is, in my opinion, one of the better, and more useful, tea establishments. Though, as the cited review goes on to state, the "high art of a classic tea service etiquette" is not there, the Gryphon is not attempting to be classic. It is through and through an art establishment, but the art in their service is of a different kind than the classic. It is an art of facilitation: an atmosphere in which a writer may sit, undisturbed, and think. The Gryphon is a place to live and breathe art, rather than to experience art.
   As an artist (a writer in particular) I appreciate the way the Gryphon is conducted. No, it is not a place for the uninitiated in English high tea to become educated; but it is a place for those who know what they want — who know their own art — to find a convenient location to mull and ponder. Thoughts with your tea, anyone?

   Music has a strange power, there is no doubt. A pied piper is not so far off from reality, I think. I am listening to a Celtic song called "Seacht". I don't know where it gets its strange power, but I find it permeating my mind. It is a physical presence in the air around me, exerting a strong, steady, and pleasant pressure on my head.
   Music has an odd way about it. I was getting ready for church, and sat down to listen to the song. It has me transfixed. It is so relaxing, I can feel my mind letting go of stresses and cares. I don't know how it is working, or why. I don't even understand the Gaelic, so I have no idea what the song is about. ("Seacht" is too common a Gaelic word to find the lyrics of the song online.)
   And the moment is gone. I spoke and was spoken to, and I am released from the spell. Such a strange magic . . . I will definitely listen to this song again.

Crosspost: Scraps and The Random Quill

parkening.com
robbylongley.com
lagq.com

   Do you like classical music? Guitar music? Better yet, classical guitar? Jazz? You should check out the music of Christopher Parkening and Robby Longley. Of the two, Parkening has a bent more towards Spanish (Flamenco) and classical; and Longley, towards jazz and ethnic music.
   I'll give you a quick rundown on Parkening, since he is my favorite of the two. Parkening is a born-again Christian, besides being one of the premier classical guitarists in the world. His metor, the great Andrés Segovia, said that Parkening is "a great artist-he is one of the most brilliant guitarists in the world."
   He is an artist, in the true sense of the word. For example, he only records any song once. He will practice until he is good enough to perform it impeccably live, and then records a one-shot staging of it. Any mistakes are not edited out, as he feels this is dishonest; it goes against his artistic integrity. Still, his one-shot recordings are better than any other guitarists' heavily-edited final cuts. At last, a musician who is also an artist!

   The last group I'd like to mention is the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet. You like classical? Ethnic? Jazz? Anything unclassifiable? LAGQ is for you. They play classical guitar, restring their guitars with everything from piano strings to giant rubber bands with paper clips attached, and then play ethnic music which sounds like it was played with traditional instruments. Definitely worth your eartime.

   The Time Changer is a great Christian film; which, as you know, most Christian films are not. The question asked and answered is, "What if you could see the impact of your beliefs?" A 19th-century seminary professor, Carlisle, is tries to win the endorsement of one of the seminary's board for his new book, to provide the unanimous vote he needs for the seminary's endorsement. The sticking boardmember is at odds with one of the book's points: morals taught alone can be used to bring people to Christ. The allegation is made that the laws of the Lord cannot be taught without the Lord of the laws as the absolute authority behind them.
   He sends Carlisle over 100 years in the future to the year 2000 to see the results of morality without Christ. It's a very powerful evangelistic film for that reason — in fact, the plan of Salvation is even given several times. It is also a great film for believers to watch.
   When Carlisle went to church, I expected the negative commentary to be directed to our standard liberal ecumenical churches. You know, Carlisle goes to a charismatic "worship center" and is apalled by what Christianity has been reduced to. Nope, he goes into an admittedly large church, but one which could be easily any Baptist church in the country. He is appalled by the worldliness which has encroached into the church and apathy (such as the horribly low turnout for visitation). It's a real eye-opener: really a revival sermon in film.
   I'd highly recommend watching it, and I usually don't recommend movies — especially "Christian" movies.

   I was just talking with one of my roommates, B___, and he really straightened me out a bit. You see, another of my roommates, A___, and I get along in exactly the same way that best friends do not. I had been feeling quite self-righteous about it, because for the first five weeks of this ten-week internship I had been making quite a few overtures to him. We never really clicked, though; and I even get the feeling he resents my asking him if he had a good day.
   Now, B___ told me that we as Christians do have an obligation to reach out to those which are different from ourselves, and not just sequester ourselves with those who think and act like us. I thought I had that covered, so I became defensive (though I don't think I came across that way). I started talking about how I'm not like that, and I get along with almost everyone, and I reach out to people that are different. Really, I do. I brought up an example, a girl named K___, also on this same internship, with whom I get along famously — you couldn't find two people who disagreed more on highly significant issues.
   That satisfied him, and he then said, "Well, sometimes we just have to learn to know when to shake the dust off our shoes and move on." About then is when I finally gave in to the Holy Spirit's conviction, I started thinking.
   "I'm thinking, maybe I 'kicked the dust from my shoes' a little too soon."
   He started mulling that over, and we talked a bit more. Then he said, "You know, we have Divine protection. We can tread on waters others can't. That gives us a bit more of a responsibility."

   You know, it does, doesn't it? That's something I don't think about nearly enough. I think God's had enough of ivory-tower Christianity.

Savannah River Ecology Laboratory
   Wow! That's finally over, and it actually went well! You see, this was my first scientific talk ever. The only tough point was one of the questions I was asked. I fumbled around a bit, and gave a pretty "political" answer (high word-to-meaning ratio). The worst part of the whole situation is that (It always happens this way, doesn't it?) starting about halfway through the next talk, I started thinking of all the real answers to the question! I could have answered it so much better, and (ego alert!) not looked so bad.
   On the plus side, I was not nearly as bad as some of the other talks (and one in particular). I would say that, objectively, I was not the best, but I was in the top five of sixteen. In fact (and you may discount this to ego, but I truly believe I am being objective here), I can only think of two that I would say that were better than mine, and none exactly at my level, with several immediately below me. After that (not chronologically, but in ranking), they dropped off pretty exponentially, culminating (in reverse) with the one I mentioned earlier, who could not stand still, or even upright. So, in rating myself, I would say 3/16.
   Now, lest you think I have too big a head, I believe I took that ranking, not because of superior performance, but because of the low standard (which is why I never rate myself by other people).    In other lab news, I have two days to complete the other half of my paper, though it should be easier to write now that I've given the talk. I'm also, once I get home, going to work on a poster presenting my project. I "got in good" with the IT people here at the lab, and so one of them is going to print my poster for me when I get it done, and then ship it out to me. That's really great, because do you know how much it costs to print a 3' x 6' poster? Full colour? More money than I have, definitely.

   Now, I can't necessarily recommend this weblog unequivocally, but it seems good. I found it by clicking on my favorite book in my profile, and there was only one other user who had A Shropshire Lad, by A.E. Housman, listed. Someone who reads my favorite poet is all right with me. Anyhow, you should check out heedler.blogspot.com. I especially recommend his June entries (the only ones I've read so far). My thoughts exactly, on his intro message. (I too had written of "blogs" as a timewaster for fourteen-year-old girls, and am now "blogging" for the purpose of writing.)

   Now, you have to understand something of a writer and an artist. Something of the melancholic temperament in general. But, the idea first. I'm at work, and just got a labwide email that an employee's mother died. It contained the death notice from the Augusta Chronicle:

AUGUSTA, Ga.- Graveside services for Mrs. M___ D___ D___ of 1229 __th Street will be held 11 a.m. [date removed] at Mt. Olive Memorial Gardens. Survivors include a daughter, V___ D___; two sons, G___ E. D___, R___ I. D___; three sisters, R___ H___, O___ Spears, B___ D___; four grandchildren and one great-grandchild; a host of other relatives and friends. The family will receive friends from 7-8 p.m. today at the funeral home. G. L. Brightharp & Sons Mortuary, 614 West Avenue, North Augusta, S. C.

   The message sparked an immediate, odd compulsion to attend the graveside service. Then the idea: "These notices are in every newspaper everywhere. Whenever I want, I can go to a funeral."    Like I said, you have to understand something about an artist. My attraction to a funeral is not flippant. I'm not going to crash a party. It's not dark (Goth-style), or a fascination with death. It's merely a writer's need to absorb real-life circumstances as experience upon which to base his interpretations of life; for a writer has the responsibility — not that I necessarily agree with this situation — given him by those who do not wish to interpret life themselves, to provide an interpretation of life and its circumstances.    I have been blessed by not having funerals come into my life often on their own. My maternal grandfather, a distant friend Michael — years after I knew him — an elderly lady from my church, and two friends of my parents whom I hardly knew are the only funerals I have ever attended.    So don't think it strange if a sombre and reverent stranger shows up at the graveside of one of your friends or loved ones, paying his respects to someone he never knew. He is merely experiencing the human condition, and is a "scout" of sorts for all whom his work will reach. He is a writer. Crosspost: Scraps and Random Quill

Savannah River Ecology Laboratory
    Well, tomorrow is the big day for my summer anyway. Tomorrow is the REU Program Student Presentation Day (it sounds more "official" to call it a symposium, in my opinion). Since my last name begins with "B", I am going first. Don't you just love alphabetical order? Hmmm . . .     So, at 9:15 AM Eastern Time, Tuesday, June 26, 2004, I will be giving my first scientific presentation. Now, I don't mind going first as a general rule — au contraire, I love public speaking — it's just that many if not most of the other students here have presented research in a symposium format before, and I have not. I'd just like a little more time, you know?     However, on a philosophical note (and those of you who know me may know what I am talking about here), their greater experience should not have any bearing on their topping me. Only a thinker should be able to beat me; and quite honestly, most of them are not thinkers — not in my definition of the word, anyway.      I just talked with my advisor, and I have some minor rearrangements to do on my presentation, so I've got to run. Some philosophical clarifications should be coming, in case the previous paragraph sounded a bit too egotistical for your taste.

     This summer, I am in Aiken, SC, working at the Savannah River Site, a former nuclear fuel plant. I am working at the Savannah River Ecology Laboratory, more specifically. This is part of the NSF grant program called Research Experiences for Undergraduates. I'm really enjoying it (and I only have one week left), having made some good connections, done publishable research while set nearly on my own (though with a great safety net of my advisor and a post-doc who is supervising me), and definitely been fired up about graduate school.

     This is really a natural extension of my website, Sehr Güt Web. However, I am at school, and have neither the time nor the inclination to manage my website full-time. However, I do have time to send off an email every once in a while, and voila!, you have "Sehr Güt Weblog". (I can't stand the word "blog" — I have an English-major streak in me somewhere . . .)