apothanein thelo

 The Sibyl at Cumae was the priestess of the oracle there. She lived about a thousand years, but aged miserably during that time; she had gotten long life as a gift from a god (sources differ), but when she refused the advances of Apollo, she was allowed to age, as she had not asked for eternal youth.

In Petronius's Satyricon, Trimalchus finds her shriveled to a tiny lump and kept alive in a jar. He asks her, "Sibyl, what do you want?" (in Greek, Σίβυλλα τί θέλεις; pronounced more or less "Sibylla, ti theleis"). She replies, "I want to die" (in Greek, ἀποθανεῖν θέλω, pronounced "apothanein thelo").

I learned this, as you did, not from reading the Satyricon, but from beating T S Eliot's The Waste Land to death in my English Lit class. 

I know someone who, if she knew the story, would empathize. But I doubt she ever knew the story, and the ravages of time will have taken it from her even if she ever did.

elitist

 In retrospect, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the deplorables, as Hillary called ‘em, consider me one of the despised elites.

• I’ve got a graduate degree.
• I’ve never lived more than thirty miles from New York City. Although my preferred city now is Philadelphia (not that Philly is any improvement, according to the deplorables), for decades, “the city” meant Manhattan.
•  As a child, I was easily grossed out. It was never my choice to play in mud; I never wanted to catch frogs (when the opportunity arose, as it did annually, at a vacation spot); I even eschewed eating oranges and tomatoes because the insides seemed just too icky.
• As a teen, I affected an English accent. For this and other reasons, my homophobe father, at the end of his wits because he thought I was going to be gay, thought to send me to military school. (It might have helped with the affected accent. It wouldn’t have helped with the elitism. Nothing needed to be done about the gay; that never materialized, although I know more about musical theater of the 50’s and 60’s than any straight man you know.)
• One of my favorite books is Moby Dick. I’ve probably read it eight times.
• I decided as a teen to learn about classical music because it was supposedly the best, and I wanted access to the best.
• Similarly with art. I hated the fact that there was this supposedly excellent stuff, and I didn’t know anything about it, so I learned some stuff. The thing that attracted me was that people I respected said it was great, not that I saw anything in it myself (although I do now, after having learned some of the things to look for).
• After learning just enough Latin to get into trouble, I have continued to use it. It is not unusual for me to reply to the checkout clerk’s cheery “Have a nice day!” with “pax tecum, gratias te ago” (“Peace to you, and I give [do] you thanks”). (And I know that Latin phrase wants a semicolon in the middle, but the semicolon hadn’t been invented at the time Latin was still a living language.)
• I know how to use semicolons; as a result, I do use semicolons. Sometimes I’ll stack three or four into the same sentence.
• And probably dozens of other things. If you know me, you can probably come up with your own list.
  

The deplorables think we look down on 'em, and hate us for it (among other things). I never thought to look down on 'em for cultural reasons... but I have no tolerance for the homophobia, racism, misogyny, xenophobia, or other traits they display. (And I can't be the only person who has noticed that the people who appear to be most afraid of, for example, an Islamic invasion are the ones who have the least contact with actual Muslims.)

And not all the people with whom I disagree politically have all the traits of deplorables. But they have supported a man who is one of the worst, and this brings all of their bona fides into question. (Like, will any of us ever again take seriously the good faith of the older, white Evangelical crowd?)

I'm mostly going to be signing off from politics; I've allowed it to damage my already-fragile mental health. I had to post this. But, for at least a while, with Candide, I'm going to tend my own (elitist) garden.

parental "it's complicated"

I'm reading Lev Grossman's "Magicians" trilogy, and on page 28 of the first book is this excellent sentence:

He would have to explain to his parents what happened, and they would, in some way he could never grasp, and therefore could never properly rebut, make him feel like it was his fault.

I'm 65 years old. My mother has mild-to-moderate dementia (we're pretty sure that she can't remember TEW's name); my father has been dead for years. Despite that, the sentence above spoke to me enough that I had to log into Blogger from a work computer and create this post.

I'll read the whole rest of the thing, and the next two books, even if it's nothing but industrial-quality suckage, just on the strength of that sentence.

Edit 8/4/20: I finished the trilogy. It was definitely not world-class suckage.

road riding in gettysburg, v. 0.5

Tom H, author of Road Biking New Jersey and Best Bike Rides Philadelphia, and locally known as the slightly mendacious, but always entertaining, leader of his Insane Bike Posse, has been commissioned to write a book of rides around the Gettysburg Battlefield Park and environs.

He'd approached a number of members of the Posse about having a weekend in Gettysburg to try out some of the rides. He asked if I could bring The Excellent Wife (TEW), if she was willing, as he wanted the input of a less-than-obsessed rider about whether these rides might be possible for the regular, non-biking public.

Somewhat to my surprise, TEW was up for it, and when the weather promised clear (if a bit cooler than we might have liked) for this past weekend, we made arrangements to go. We drove down after work (getting caught in a huge tie-up on the Pennsylvania Turnpike; it was a three-day weekend for some), and stayed in a motel in Maryland, not far from the battlefield.

The rides in Tom's book are short, and his plan for the first day was to do a ride of about 24 miles that covered all or part of a number of them, followed by another 8-or-so mile ride to see a covered bridge. We were to plan on lots of stops, for pictures (Tom doesn't have a good idea of what pictures the editors of the book will want) and to check out directions and road conditions.

The battlefield is FULL of monuments. Evidently, in the years after the war, veterans on both sides wanted to commemorate their comrades. We stopped often for pictures; I got well over 100 on the first day.

Below; at the Eternal Flame:

The ride took us into town, to the re-created station through which Lincoln came on the fall day he was to give the Gettysburg Address:

Then back into the park, at the top of Seminary Ridge, the site of Pickett's Charge. That white dome off in the distance is the Pennsylvania Monument, at the top of the ridge the Confederates were trying to take.

We climbed Little Round Top, where fire was rained down onto two rocky outcrops below. In the center, you can see the Devil's Den:

Above, in the Devil's Den.

On this holiday weekend, the traffic going up and down Little Round Top was intense; if you're going to do Gettysburg, on a bike is a sensible way to do it.

 At the Pennsylvania Monument:

We decided to go up Culp Hill (from which there wasn't much of a view, so no pictures), and when we got there, we found that all the ways back to the place we started were marked with one of these:

Tom's re-working that part of the route. It's a shame he has to do it, because it's demanding enough that I'm sure none of the intended audience for the book will ever do that particular ride!

While we were there, TEW had a chat with some of the re-enactors; they're interesting guys.

We got back to the start, and went on the ride to the covered bridge (TEW decided to sit that part out; the ride was more tiring than most of this distance and climb, and we think it was likely due to the many starts-and-stops). On the route is a pedestrian bridge that is marked as closed, but it seemed fine to us:

The covered bridge in question is just great.

And back for the day.

In the evening, we had planned to go to the Dobbin House for dinner, a historic inn in Gettysburg... but apparently everyone in town for the holiday weekend had the same idea; they may still be lined up at the door, for all I know. Instead, we went to a local bar and restaurant, O'Rorke's, which was surprisingly good, and might be my choice if we go back. (It looked like nothing-in-particular, but the crab cakes were full of crab, and not filler, for example.)

The next day, we did a 32-mile ride that covered some rides outside of town. We passed some cows, of which I had to get a picture for Laura OLPH:

I thought this barn was great:

This ride includes another battlefield, from an engagement a day or two after the battles at Gettysburg.

On the way, we passed a field where people were flying radio-controlled planes. We stopped for a while; it was a treat:

And back.

Ride pages: First part of the first ride, and second part of the first ride (GPS weirdness), and covered bridge, and second day.

Tom's talking about inviting a few of us in the spring to take cue sheets and ride the routes to see how they go. I think it might be cool!

wheel building book - new edition

Years ago, I got a bootleg copy of Roger Musson's wheelbuilding book, and it was good enough that I bought one for myself (the book is a .pdf download; you can print the parts you need, but I never have). I had read both Gerd Schraner's and Jobst Brandt's books on wheels; they were full of theory, but I couldn't get my brains around how to build a wheel from them, and online guides weren't helpful to me, either (my learning style is such that I learn better from books and practice than from online sources; your mileage may vary [as everyone's does, of course]).

There's a new edition out that I downloaded this morning and have been skimming. It's still good, and there are enough changes that the new edition number makes sense. (See, if you buy the book, you get new editions free. If you don't like it, he will refund your money for up to 60 days.)

Earlier editions were hard to read for me (Musson treats commas as if they cost $2 each), but this one is written a bit better. It includes information on how to make some of the tools you'll need, why some things that sound like good ideas really aren't, and why some of the latest-and-greatest products and techniques don't make sense for most of us recreational cyclists.

About $12 US (Musson's a limey). Worked for me.

(No, you can't borrow mine. It's $12. Buy cheaper coffee for a week and support this guy, all right?)

you could look it up

What I didn't tell youse-all in yesterday's post is that when I met Laura OLPH yesterday, she presented me with a pre-production copy of her husband's latest book. Professor Jack Lynch has published a book, entitled You Could Look It Up :The Reference Shelf From Babylon To Wikipedia, about everything you ever wanted to know about reference books and sources.

I've been waiting impatiently for him to finish it for years. Doesn't that sound great?

Well, it does to me, but apparently it doesn't to others; when I tell people about it, they give me the same look I would get if I said I was going for a fitting for a tin-foil hat.

Jack's inscription to me is a delight:

For Not-So-Plain Jim, Who may be just nerdy enough to enjoy this book.*

*No guarantees expressed or implied.

I'm foregoing all other literary pursuits in favor of this one.

a good christmas

It's been a good Christmas. Last night, The Excellent Wife (TEW) and I went to see her side of the family at the Excellent Parents-In-Law; they're both still alive and able to complain about their condition, which, given their ages, is pretty good. It was a late night for me, and I think I got out with only upsetting one person, which is good, for me. We do the whole Polish Wigilia thing, with rituals I can't pronounce, let alone spell, and the singing of Kolędy (Polish carols; my in-laws love to hear their Anglo son-in-law hammer his way through tunes they're familiar with) and the no-meat feast. We do presents, and then TEW and I come home for a quiet Christmas Day, which is really more my speed.

This morning, we got up and did our presents. My mom bought TEW this excellent Doonesbury compendium:

It's bigger than the old Sears catalog that, come to think of it, many of you probably don't remember.

Mom got me this Mad Magazine anthology. My tween and teen years were difficult, and Mad Magazine was one of my regular companions.

Not to be outdone, TEW got me two excellent books. The first is The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage, a somewhat-true graphic novel retelling of a partnership that built one of the first computing machines.

The other is The Wake, a novel written from the point of view of those whom William the Conqueror... well... conquered, I guess. It's written in a language that's kind of a best guess at how the folks then might have spoken (and written, if any of 'em had been literate). A quick look reminds me of Hoban's Riddley Walker, which I first read umpteen years ago.

Also under the tree, among the socks and shirts and stuff, was the Oxo crank peppermill. I make popcorn for snack, and to avoid the blood-pressure spike that would ensue from from weighting it down wit the amount of salt I'd like, I use fresh-ground pepper instead. I use enough, though, that using a regular peppermill might lead to carpal tunnel syndrome, or some such. I've used the crank today, and it's great.

The only vaguely bike-related gift is this Bell & Howell waterproof camera that I'm going to take on rides. I saw Tom H had one, and I cast the eye of lust upon it.

After the opening of the gifts, we took a walk (in the drizzle) around Johnson Park, then to breakfast at the diner. The fellow in  the other booth, eating alone, looked like he'd lost his only friend, so we secretly popped for his breakfast just before making our escape. Then home, for naps, stupid internet, and meatloaf for dinner.

Hope your Christmas went as well. How did you do? Any news or stories?

bike book gifts

For my 60th birthday, a few months ago, Laura OLPH and Snakehead got together to get me a couple of bike history books; shortly thereafter, Tom H gave me one from is library. With the idleness that has come from unemployment, I've had a chance to go through all of them.

On Your Bicycle was the gift from Tom. It's a pretty comprehensive history of the early days of cycling, including precursor vehicles and discussions (in way too much detail for anybody who's not an enthusiast) of all of the early forms through the "Safety". Everything after about 1920 is relegated to the last two chapters. Admittedly, the book was published in 1987, but the book gets to the Draisine in the beginning of the 19th Century by page 14.

I enjoyed it, but unless you have an interest in the early history of bikes, you might find it slow going.

The History of Cycling in Fifty Bikes is a bit of a misnomer; there are fifty bike-related stories in the book, some of which are based on particular bikes, but others are based on riders or technologies. It was a lot of fun. It's a book for dipping into and enjoying, not for bike scholars (sheesh, are there really bike scholars? Well, I guess you can count Sheldon Brown, Jobst Brandt, and Gerd Schraner...).

I thought it was great.

The Golden Age of Handbuilt Bicycles is nothing less than brain candy for those of us who like lugs and shine. I can pick this up and page through a couple of the articles, or lose an hour going from page to page. It's just a delight; just enough mechanical info to let you know what you're looking at in the glorious pictures.

Thanks to Laura, Snakehead, and Tom.

a certain bicyclist

I stumbled across some fun, silly, but still smart bicycle writing from the mid-1980's, and I want to be able to find it again. It's pretty neat; you might want to bookmark A Certain Bicyclist.

The illustrations alone are worth clicking the link.

good? it's better

From today's Diesel Sweeties. Long-time link on the right, yadda yadda yadda. (Too small? Click on the link at the beginning of this paragraph.)

Laura - do you think Jack would agree, or not?

mad horse

Not every quote on the web is appropriately attributed (as has been pointed out to me), so when I found this neat quote attributed to Benjamin Franklin, I decided to see if I could verify it was his. It was; it was part of the Poor Richard's Almanack collection. (Before he was "Benjamin Franklin, statesman, scientist, wealthy businessman", he was a nearly-starved printer's devil in his brother's shop; he eked out his means by making up, and... uh... well, stealing, a number of aphorisms that he published in his brother's paper. When the brother found out the Ben himself was writing [or plagiarizing] them, they had such a set-to that Ben took off for Philadelphia, where he found some success.)

Now, the full text of Poor Richard's Almanack is available online, so I went and read it. It's good. The text is an autoscan, and there are some scanning errors, but I don't think they are so much that it makes the reading impossible.

The quote that got me started is no. 31, "A man in a passion rides a mad horse." I don't know where I got it. But I've decided if I ever start a bicycle business, it's going to be called Mad Horse.

turning my head

Don't I wish.

From today's Oddman, of course.

book review: just ride

Grant Petersen is the guiding light behind Rivendell Bikes. The term “retro-grouch", for a rider who only likes old bicycle technology, was probably coined for him. His book, Just Ride, has just been published.

Petersen makes the argument (one that has to be made), that most bikes sold today aren't suited to the kind(s) of riding most people do. He says that most bikes sold today are either racers or are modified from racers, and that the bikes, and their related equipment, are keeping more people from riding more often.

He says in the introduction:

In real life, I'm not as mean (or judgmental) as I sound in this book…

… and then goes on to sound as judgmental (if not as mean) as he says he's not.

Petersen wants bikes with upright postures, with carrying capacity, and with fenders, and he spends a lot of ink explaining why other bikes are just bad. He implies that a single bike can do everything, but I have two arguments about this: first, the bikes from Rivendell are not cheap, and I suspect that most of them are sold to people who also have other bikes. Second, he himself has written (in Rivendell Reader 42, p. 6 [Rivendell Reader is/was a publication about matters bicyclistic sent out by Rivendell on an unpredictable basis; many of the chapters of the book apparently first saw light as articles in the Reader]) that he expects many riders will have several bikes:

How many bikes?
seven is good. a beater, a bomber, a single-speed, a touring bike, a lightish road bike, a do-all racked and bagged bike, a mixte, a loaner, and a work in progress. seven? Make it nine.

Petersen also comes down hard on helmets, charity rides, special riding clothing (especially shoe/pedal systems, although the research he quotes appears to be 40 years old), and he espouses what must be minority opinions (although he may be right) on lights, nutrition, and riding safety topics, including Critical Mass Rides.

Nonetheless, this is a good read for the non-competitive rider. Once you get past the notion that Petersen seems to think that everybody should ride the way he wants to, you can see that part of what he's arguing for is less competitive riding, and more fun riding (and no Hill Slug could argue with that!). He comes out in favor of short rides (even a few minutes), bike camping (one of his particular joys is the “sub-24-hour-overnighter", or s24o), and allowing riders who have no interest in improving technique to be allowed not to worry about technique.

In his writing, both in the book and online, he seems to argue that riders who ride for speed or distance are wrong, and that we should give that up and ride for fun at low speeds. I suspect, though, that the real effect of this book (if it has one) will be to help riders of one type to accept riders of all the other types, and maybe even for us to try other rides and bikes. I, for example, have never ridden trail, and have little interest, and I don't ride my city bike enough. I also have been a bit overbearing on The Excellent Wife's technique, and have had to give that up. Perhaps this book will spread a bit of velo-tolerance: I, for one, could use it.

Good book, cheap. Quick read. After you're done with it, you might change your riding style, or you may know even better what you like about the way you ride. I suggest you check it out.

sopa/pipa: content creator's opinion

Back in November, I wrote about supporting an upcoming novel called The Beauty of Our Weapons. I got my pre-release copy (I like it; I'll post a review and link when it's available for sale), but I'm posting this because I took the opportunity to ask the author, Darusha Wehm, about her take on the SOPA and PIPA bills. Here's part of her response, reproduced with her permission:

I took my sites down yesterday as a protest against SOPA/PIPA and I've signed a petition from non-US citizens to the State Department about it.

I've never seen any reliable information regarding actual losses in sales due to piracy and I know for sure that the more readers I get (however they got a hold of my work) the better off I am as an author.

Regardless, I don't think that SOPA/PIPA actually do much against real piracy and are instead very dangerous for free speech and national sovereignty - from what I understand they are particularly geared toward sites that are not governed by US law. It's disturbing to me as a citizen of other countries that a foreign state is trying to compel me legally.

I could go on. The short answer is that as a content creator I'm against S&P because a) the online piracy threat is not real (unlike the maritime piracy threat which is real and deadly and no one cares) and b) because of the chilling effect these laws would have on me and everyone else who wants to express themselves online.

I would not presume to say that she speaks for all content creators, or all independent content creators, or anyone but herself. Nonetheless, at lest one content creator who generates cash from her content is pretty clearly anti-PIPA/SOPA. (And the "maritime piracy" issue has meaning to her because she lives on a ship, and travels.)

supporting an indie novelist

I first "read" Darusha Wehm's* stuff over at Podiobiooks, where I was downloading .mp3 podcasts of her first novel, Beautiful Red. I finally decided that listening to books on .mp3 wasn't working for me (my mind wanders, and then it's hard to go back and re-listen to what I'd skimmed through; it's much easier to turn back pages), so I wound up getting read-'em-on-a-screen editions of her next two books, Self-Made and Act of Will (I think I got the first as a gift for flogging it on my other blog; I remember buying the second at Smashwords).

She's coming out with another one, called The Beauty of Our Weapons. I'm poppin' for some support, because I've liked the books, and because I think authors I like should be supported, and because she asked me to. Her work reminds me of cyberpunk William Gibson stuff. Like him, she writes about a future cyber-dystopia; like him, I don't think she gives enough attention to most people's desires for families and children (a flaw, I think, of those of us who have chosen childlessness); like him, she writes stuff that keeps me turning the pages.

I went for a level of support that will get me the e-book in a format I can read on my old-style Nook. I'm looking forward to the new book.

*Didja click on that link? She had a great look; I love the multicolor-neon hair and the sly look of the eye. The new video shows her with a more mainstream hairdo - but she lives on a sailboat now, and there may not be regular deliveries of magenta hair dye to the distant corners she visits.

above all, remember this: that magic belongs...

ABOVE ALL REMEMBER this: that magic belongs as much to the heart as to the head and everything which is done, should be done from love or joy or righteous anger.

Oh, for heaven's sake, go read Susanna Clarke. She writes about the history of English magic as if there were a history of English magic, and provides scholarly quotations, forking histories, and evidence of folklore to back it up, all of which she made up out of whole cloth, to support an excellent novel (my mother complains it's too long, but she's wrong) and a nifty collection of short stories (you can start with these, if you like; they are informed by, but are not dependent on, the novel).

Go read them! Then go nag Ms. Clarke to write more stuff, so you have something else to read next February.

(..."from love or joy or righteous anger." Isn't that just YUMMY!?)

darusha's Act of Will

Darusha Wehm, author of two of my favorite books on .mp3, Beautiful Red and Self Made, has a new one coming out in RSS as .pdf and .mp3: Act of Will. I like to read books faster than one chapter a week, which is the usual speed of serialized books, and Darusha is feeding my desire there: five posts (and fifteen chapters) in less than a week!

Her character, Andersson "Dex" Dexter, works a dead-end job by day, and moonlights as a freelance cop (in a world bereft of useful government for citizens, security is provided only by big businesses, and then only for those situations that the businesses choose to investigate and pursue, so private matters of employees, and all matters for self- or un-employed people, have to be handled outside the standard channels). I'm a sucker for the corporate-dystopia genre (especially since I think there's a real possibility that it will be instituted by a week from Tuesday: I've always felt we are more likely to be screwed by business than we are by government), so the atmosphere in these novels is right up my alley. (The first one is not a "Dex" novel, but it's set in the same world.)

I've just read the first three chapters of Act of Will, and it starts right off with a scary-but-spiffy murder and a stalking of the next victim, along with the obligatory backstory and setup for new readers. I'm liking it (although I've given up on listening to the books on .mp3 - I find I miss too much, and it's too hard to go back and re-read something to catch what I missed the first time. Maybe it's my age - I'm pushin' 60 - but sometimes the older technology is better).

Act of Will is available as both .mp3 and .pdf podcast.