Echoes from My Headphones: A Taste of the Music I'm Listening to

Besides being really a really good inspiration for papers, this soundtrack relies heavily on Hans Zimmer's work, particularly Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest. The work is still original, and frankly prettier than a lot of things Zimmer does these days, and also show the influence of the Bourne series every now and then and uses vocals in a way similar to Howard Shore.

God Help Greek Teachers

Today in Greek class, we had an interesting insight into the minds of men.

Isaac was translating. His translation started out really rough, but Dr. Davies was walking him through it. "That participle (a verbal noun, for the non-Greek speaking among my audience) in the beginning," he told Isaac in his naturally booming voice, "is circumstantial. It explains the circumstances in which something takes place. So you're going to translate it as when, since, because, although, if. Right?"

Isaac: "Ummmm...."

Dr. Davies: "So, for example, you'd say 'If he was hungry, he ate'. That's a circumstance."

Isaac: "Well, you'd say 'Because he was hungry, he ate'."

Never use analogies of food when teaching a language to guys.

Taylor the Latte Boy by Kristin Chenowith with Lyrics

You've gotta love this song.

Why I Believe in Icons and Chants

I am reading a book called The Living God, a catechism for the Orthodox church. While doing so, I hope to post various thoughts, questions, and quotes which arise from it.

The Preface first stresses that Orthodoxy is concerned with the "ontological content" of Christianity. In other words, "It insists upon the life in Christ as a true participation in divine energies." Similarly, it discusses how the Byzantine rite is "a theology transfigured into doxology". Both of these points have the same heart, as far as I see it. Orthodoxy is about the active life of a Christian who is undergoing the process of deification we call theosis. I have recently discovered that for many Christians, theology means intellectualism and Christian life means the right emotions or good deeds. I appreciate that Orthodoxy does not condone this view.

I also loved the authors' explanation of why we quote the saints. "Our purpose," they say, "is not merely to repeat what the Fathers said, but to rediscover in union with them, inspired by them, the capacity for creating a synthesis of theological thought." Chew on that one for a while. There's a lot of meat.

They then point out that a fundamental point of Orthodoxy is that it "resound[s] in an atmosphere of beauty". They give markers of this beauty: music and iconography.

And I'm not exactly sure whence it came, but I had a bit of a revelation. I believe that chanting in Divine Liturgy and having icons is appropriate. But a mere explanation that "they are beautiful" doesn't appeal to me. Mendelssohn and Bach are beautiful. Michelangelo and Rembrandt are beautiful. But I can't really see those works of art being done in the midst of Divine Liturgy.

Nor do I particularly believe that chanting and iconography are more beautiful than such works as these. I've just seen too many inspiring paintings and heard too many gorgeous masses to believe that they are lesser. But I now have a reason for believing that those works are not appropriate in the setting of the Liturgy.

They're simple.

And let's be honest, Bach, Mendelssohn, Michelangelo, and Rembrandt are so ornate and complex that they can be downright distracting. Far too often, we scan Michelangelo's ceiling so hard to find its meaning that we forget to worship the God it was painted for. These works are complex, and can lead to either a simple or complex truth. But the fact remains: their complexity often distracts us.

But the music of chanting is not complex. Once you get the tune, it's incredibly easy to follow. And icons, at least as I see them, aren't incredibly hard to understand. Sure, they have many different parts, just as chanting choirs have all four choir parts. But they are at heart simple in nature. Icons and chanting don't ask too much of their audience. And thus their beauty is by far the most effective in its environment. When I'm in Divine Liturgy, I don't want paintings so ornately realistic that my mind wanders. I want basic shapes, following specific patterns, which ingrain the true Christian mythology into my nous and at the same time move me outside my own complex and realistic life into a reality beyond myself. When I'm singing, I don't want to be distracted by complex tunes, or by thoughts of what a "cool song" something is. I want something simple, basic to the human anatomy. Something so natural that when I'm singing it, it feels like a natural outpouring, not a special effort.

This is why I believe in icons and chanting. Because their simplicity 1) is a better environment for the Liturgy and 2) encourages Christians to have the simplicity of mind necessary for true theosis.

Do Wizards Use Planes?

With the ability to Apparate, use Floo Power, and fly on broomsticks, wizards don't exactly need to buy plane tickets for a holiday trip.

But the other day, as I was boarding my AirTran flight to Dallas, I saw a peculiar sign. It read:

Row 10 follows Row 3. 

There are no Rows 4-9

And an image of No. 10 Grimmauld Place, the home of notorious escapee Sirius Black, rose unbidden to my mind.

And then I subconsciously calculated whether that could fit the Weasley family, all the boys' wives, Ginny's husband (guess who?!), children, Teddy Lupin, Lee Jordan, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Headmistress McGonagall, and Auntie Muriel. Check.

I even threw in Victor Krum for good measure. Ron can't be jealous forever, right?

Could it be a huge Weasley family and friends holiday, I thought?

Perhaps Mr. Weasley was finally achieving his heart's desire: to find out how airplanes stay up.