Last few days have been a bit hectic at work and so did not really get much time to discover new things via the web. So this post is a bit short and includes some discoveries over the last couple of days.

Bhimsen (Prem Panicker) : Prem Panicker, the former editor of India Abroad and a long time voice on Rediff, has been working on this brilliant project – retelling the Mahabharata through the eyes of Bhim, the second Pandava. Inspired by a Malayalam work Randhamoozham by MT Vasudevan Nair (MTV he calls him), Prem insists that “this is not a translation or a transcreation” but a re-telling and I quote :

What it is, is a re-telling, in which— with profound respect for one of my favorite writers—I intend to stay faithful to the central narrative and its governing emotional undercurrents, but manipulate time lines and incidents, and where necessary even chapter progressions, to suit my own narrative.

So why does he want to do it and what is it that is about the Mahabharata? I suggest you read on.

Reward of Service – Elizabeth Barren Browning (Veritas) : This is a blog that brings a lot of joy every day. Its Poem of the Day pops up in my Google Reader and immediately takes me away from the duniyadari into another world of reflection, peace and quiet. Today it features a poem by “Portuguese” as Robert Browning used to call her. The full poem and many other poems are there on the blog. Here are a couple of lines from this one:

Thy love shall chant its own beatitudes,
After its own like working. A child’s kiss
Set on thy singing lips shall make thee glad;
A poor man served by thee shall make thee rich;
A sick man helped by thee shall make thee strong;
Thou shalt be served thyself by every sense
Of service which thou renderest.

That’s all for today.

I have the Cadillac of ovens: a real Kitchen-Aid with a slick digital timer, a bread proofing button, and everything. I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but it was part of the reason I bought my place. : ) It  has been sadly out of service for a month as the keyboard shorted out (the price of luxury) but I just got it fixed this week. Overjoyed hardly begins to describe it. For the new keypad’s maiden voyage I made an old favorite: vegetable lasagna.

Because I own the Cadillac of ovens, it has a special exhaust fan in the back that works to keep the temperature even. This has the effect of making the oven work a bit like a convection oven, which is both good and bad. It’s good because it speeds up cooking sometimes. It’s bad because it overbrowns. The solution to overbrowning, as you may know, is to put aluminum foil over your cookies, pie, cake, etc. You should do this anytime you feel they are starting to get too brown before they are truly done.

But I’ve encountered a big problem with foil — if you just stick it on some objects flat across the top, they stick. I’ve had problems with that with my lasagna, where the cheese bubbles up and sticks to the foil. That can be a good thing if there are just a few golden brown, crispy cheese spikelets for the cook to eat. But if it’s a significant portion of your cheese, that’s not so good. A few months ago, I ripped an entire chunk of sheet cake off a cake when it stuck to the foil — and because it was still gooey, there was no way to replace it. Here at altitude, our cakes tend to rise REALLY high before assuming their proper height, even if they’ve been properly altitude adjusted (which is a whole other problem).

So with this lasagna, I tried something I vaguely remembered reading or hearing about as the solution to the problem: folding the aluminum into a little tent and place that over the baking object. I just folded my foil in half at an obtuse angle and laid it on the rims of the pan. I’ve never been quite sure how aluminum foil prevents browning (is it just preventing the reflection of heat from the top of the oven? If so, wouldn’t heat get reflected under the foil?) and I half wondered if tenting it wouldn’t just bring the browning problem back. But it worked — perfectly. No sticking to the foil. No premature browning.

Magnifique! Give it a try next time you’re worried about browning *and* sticking.

Yes, burd dawg, say it aloud, because that is exactly how it is pronounced where I grew up. You know, I spent 30 plus years in the corp world fighting the perception by northerners and eurotrash that I was slow witted because I was slow talking. Let them think what they will, I’ll speak my Southernese as easy as I please.

But I digress, back to the plot, a quick broadcast email looking for a home for a good bird dog kicked over a bucket of memories. Our society today doesn’t have time to listen to oral histories anymore, but this new fangled internet just sits there and will listen as long as I type, so here is the tale of burd dawgs, say it again for effect, and Brownings.

My dad was a bird huntin man. We lived in rural SC, and land was aplenty for quail. It was his thing, just like cycling is my thing. My first memories are of bird dogs, because most make good pets and are gentle with small children. I fed bird dogs and cleaned kennels the entire time I lived at home. Ed note: Gee, wonder if that’s why I don’t have dogs?

I can hear my dad and his brother now talking about dogs as if they were magical creatures. Pete, Rex, King, Spot, Frosty, Bill’s Rex, as opposed to my Rex. They all had short names, easy to call in the field. When they spoke of dogs they had the privilege of owning, and dogs that others had owned, the stories were in reverent tones, and in celebration of memorable days in the field. It was amazing to me that they had total recall of how many birds and the weather and every other detail. Even at the time, some of the stories predated my birth. I never met some of the dogs, but I felt as if they were old friends just from hearing of their glory days. It was clear to me, that both my dad and uncle relished those stories. 

There was only one thing that surpassed the reverence for dogs with those two, and it was shotguns. There was only one brand as far as they were concerned. Browning, made in Belgium too, not the Japanese made that was to come later. One of my earliest childhood memories, I must have been three or four, is my dad showing me his new? shotgun. Anyway, I think it was new. I remember him telling me I should never touch it or play with it. That was gun safety back then. Funny it seems to have been more effective that what we are doing today.

So let’s put this in context. We had no money. Those dawgs probably weren’t the top of the line full breeds, and they ate table scraps mostly. The land was not leased but hunted by permission. So the only funding the outlet required was guns and shells. You don’t really shoot that much quail hunting. Now, the gun is a different story. At the time a Browning A5 shotgun was the pinnacle of quality that a mere mortal could dream about. They were not cheap. I can imagine the conversation my parents must have had about purchasing a shotgun that cost more than the car we owned, or probably more than anything we owned.

I am pretty sure my mom didn’t say go for it, if he even discussed with her. I don’t know this for a fact, but that gun probably came from the Seneca Hardware, and was purchased from a guy named Cookie Dean, on credit. God knows what my father sacrificed to buy that gun.

Over the next 40 years I was to see that gun hundreds of times in my father’s hands. He was a wicked wingshot. I have witnessed him bag three quail on the rise many times. I was horrible, and most times never even got off a shot. He also used that gun for dove hunting. Now you folks who hunt know that in today’s tech world, the quail gun and the dove gun are two different critters. Didn’t matter to him, he used that 26 inch barrel with improved cylinder for quail, dove, and rabbit. If he shot, something was going in the bag. You could count on that. He was deadly and lightning fast.

Today, hunting has a social stigma that it did not have then, and unfortunately I have not been able to share this with my sons. My dad and my uncle spent thousands of hours with me in the field. I learned by example about sportsmanship and outdoor skills. It was a bond that saw us through the teenage rebellion years. It was a bond that brought us closer as I grew into my own man. It was a bond that I grieve for on a regular basis.

As time went by, the financial means of the family changed considerably, and my dad could have afforded any gun he wanted. I even gave him fancier shotguns as gifts, Brownings of course. Oh he would take them out a time or two to appease me, but when it was serious, that old Browning came out of the case and into the truck. I didn’t think too much about it at the time, but I do now. He could have had anything, yet he went back to his old friend, the one he paid dearly for, the one he had cradled for endless hours, and the one he had the most confidence in. Some of you may not think of inanimate objects such as guns or tools or even kitchen knives as old friends, but others know instantly of what I speak.

He was a leftie, so the safety has been reversed. I think I’ll leave it that way. Maybe one of my future grandson’s will be born a leftie. If so, it is ordained.

I have that gun today. I brought it to my house when he passed. I don’t have the courage to shoot it, for I feel I would dishonor it with anything less than his skill.

A recent TXWOOD Mailing list post inquired about the family of Wylie Jackson Browning, 1891-1964, died Wood County, Texas. Names mentioned included children Lula Reeves Browning, Arless Browning, E. Aubrey “Dick” Browning, T. C. Browning, Wylie Jackson Browning, Jr. Contact email: ellenATairmail.net (Note: substitute the “@” symbol for the “AT” in the email address.)

Dylan with Cora and a couple nice roosters. If it weren't for the birds, he wouldn't be smiling. It was a cold day.

My third trip out for the season was October 10th – the pheasant opener here in Montana. It was a balmy weekend – high of 20 degrees with a solid 20 mph wind all day long. My son and I made the trip up to the Bowdoin wildlife refuge outside of Malta, MT on the recommendations of a couple guys in our Pheasants Forever chapter here in Bozeman. Only 2 days prior, our high temp was around 85 – talk about extremes. I took my 14 yr old son (Dylan) along and we wore out some tread on our boots looking for birds. Being new to the area, we were going off what others had to say about the place – “stick to the cattails.” Well, that’s easier said than done. We pushed through some tall, thick cover trying to kick up a bird or two. We finally had some success and bagged a single bird. If I had to work that hard for all my birds, I think I’d rather starve to death But we also had a couple long-distance flushes and watched the birds fly into a small grove of Russian olive trees. We pursued and found the trees to be a lot easier hunting, and a lot more productive. In all, we flushed 10 roosters, several more hens and had a good time. Its funny when you finally get on birds, the cold weather seems to go away

When you’re hunting with your kids, I always defer to them to take the first shot when they’re in any kind of position to take it. Clearly, if I’m the only one with an angle on the bird, I’ll take the shot without thinking twice. But, if there’s a legit chance my son (and now daughters) can take a shot, I wait for them. And I’ve told them as much – don’t expect dad to shoot – they know they get the first shot. Well, it can get frustrating for anyone who is used to taking a good shot when they see one (and even more frustrating when your less-experienced kids miss easy shots .  I just have to mentally tell myself (over and over again) that its not about filling your limit, it’s about having a good time hunting with your kids – regardless of the number of birds you find, miss or bag. I’m sure if you asked the dogs though, you might get a different story (“freaking idiot – how hard is it to hit a bird 15 feet away that I pointed out for you???”

Given that the day was so cold, so I pulled out all the stops. I wore my Filson Tin Cloth Field Coat with Zipper and a few layers underneath (sweatshirt, Filson Upland/Shooting Shirt, long underwear, etc.). On my lower half, I wore the Filson Briar & Burr chaps and had no issues with the Filson chaps being too warm on this day The laws of the wildlife refuge required blaze orange above the waist, so I had a Browning Pheasants Forever hat on above my Columbia Balaclava (a wonderful item to keep your head and face warm on cold days – the best $12 you’ll ever spend). My son had on some Columbia Upland Jeans II with a Browning Gore-Tex Upland Jacket (now discontinued). Like a typical teenager, he forgot to bring any gloves, so we stopped by the hardware store in Malta and picked up some insulated work gloves.

Cora the Wonder Dog - as in, it's a Wonder she didn't kill herself

On my second outing looking for sharptail and huns, my wife went to a different area in the Shields Valley and had what amounted to a wonderful walk through the fall-colored hills and chalked it up to great exercise - we didn’t kick up a single bird. The highlight of the night was the rib dinner at the Wilsall Cafe afterwards – excellent food and great service.  If you ever find yourself driving through Wilsall on highway 89, it is worth the stop.

We did see several deer and antelope and other game – just no birds. My source who typically bow-hunts for big game in this area tells me he usually kicks up some sharptails and has seen huns in there several times as well. The area looked birdy, but they were nowhere to be found on this particular day. I’m sure I’ll take another walk through here though – it has all the right cover and signs of producing some birds.

Given that this was a shorter trip and less-intense hunt, I didn’t wear a vest at all, but strapped on a Browning Belted Game Bag. This is a wonderful option for warm-weather hunts where you don’t need a ton of bird capacity (my wife was wearing a Columbia Grouse X II Comfort Vest, so I figured I could load her up if needed I also had on a Browning Prairielands shirt (tan w/ blaze) and some jeans with Filson Single-Tin chaps. I love the protection that the Tin chaps provide, but they can get a bit warm and sweaty on warmer days. We didn’t get into too thick of cover, and I thought about pulling them off and throwing them in my wife’s gamebag, but the Single Tin Chaps don’t have the zipper on the leg, so I would have had to take the boots off, etc. Too much work, so I just sweated it out.

A nice audio slideshow found on the BBC this morning. It doesn’t feel like Autumn here in central Arizona, so this is a nice reminder that odd concepts such as seasons still exist elsewhere. Excerpts from The Autumn, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, read by Peter Donaldson; excerpts from Autumn, by John Clare, read by Charlotte Green.

Il 19 ottobre, la Direzione Generale Armamenti del Ministero della Difesa ha concluso ad Herat la sua indagine conoscitiva sui Lince “modificati“. Perché non in un poligono nazionale e perché lontano da occhi indiscreti?
Sono sempre sotto sequestro della Procura della Repubblica di Roma ad Herat i tre “veicoli incidentati“ della Lapo Elkann & C.?
L’altezza del veicolo della FIAT Iveco con torretta a guida remota aumenta così di 400 mm. Un’enormità.
Aver aggiunto una ralla di 330 kg sulla testa del Lince ne fa potenzialmente una bara a quattro ruote motrici a meno di un esonero precocissimo dal servizio di “pattugliamento“.
E allora perché La Russa ne ha spediti altri otto in Afghanistan in aggiunta ai sovrabbondantissimi 246 a 350.000 euro a botta già in dotazione al West RC?
Come mai continua a far arrivare per via aerea una dotazione di mezzi che eccede le necessità di impiego operativo? Cosa c’è sotto?
Un “gippone protetto“, il Lince, che manifesta una elevata tendenza al ribaltamento su terreni accidentati, in curva e su salite o discese a forte pendenza, e ha già provocato nella versione “normale“ negli ultimi sette mesi 72 feriti (per scontri a fuoco con mujaheddin ed “insorti“ pashtun, esplosioni ed uscite di strada) tra i militari del contingente italiano, ed un morto, questo lo aggiungiamo noi, il 15 ottobre.
Il computo è dell‘Ansa. I sei parà del 186° Rgt saltati per aria a Kabul sono andati fuori lista, come i morti ammazzati che li hanno preceduti. Si vuole ridurre l’impatto sull’opinione pubblica lavorando solo i “dati” dei feriti? Sembrerebbe di sì.
L’ultimo caduto per “cause di servizio“ è stato il caporalmaggiore Rosario Ponziano del 4° Rgt Alpini Paracadutisti della Brigata Monte Cervino che ha perso la vita in un ribaltamento del LMV su cui si muoveva, insieme all’equipaggio (tre i traumatizzati) in missione operativa tra Herat e Shindad.
Il portavoce del West RC maggiore Marco Amoriello lo ha passo passare per l’autiere. Era, a quanto ne abbiamo saputo, il rallista, il militare in torretta, il predestinato, stando come stanno le cose, a lasciarci la buccia.
“ …i Lince “modificati” sono stati impiegati su tratti sterrati con pendenze variabili tra i 20 ed i 50°: in tutto sono stati percorsi circa 200 km in un ambiente alla temperatura media locale. Le prove a fuoco sono state effettuate nel poligono di Herat con mitragliatrici Browning che hanno sparato 1.000 colpi“.
Ecco in breve le conclusioni certificate in Afghanistan dalla Direzione Generale Armamenti e sottoscritta dal generale, che non batte per il verso giusto, Rosario Castellano della Folgore, attuale comandante del West RC PRT11 di Herat: ” …la ralla motorizzata balistica (il situational awareness sembrerebbe out – nda) soddisfa al meglio il binomio volume di fuoco erogabile/protezione dell’operatore”. L’innalzamento del LMV non pregiudica l’equilibrio del mezzo (dichiarazione da Corte marziale) anche se richiede “una maggiore accortezza nell’esecuzione delle manovre”.
Per ovviare a questo “inconveniente“ secondo il rapporto sono indispensabili 300 minuti (!) di guida da effettuare in Italia (!).
Il LMV – si afferma, in soldoni, da Herat – appare “ben ancorato al terreno“ e per farlo muovere in “totale sicurezza” (!) su rotabili e sterrati dell’Afghanistan occorre a giudizio della Commissione della D.G.A un addestramento alla guida pari a un’ora per dito d’una mano.
Non ci va di commentare questa “indicazione“ fuori di testa.
Nel nostro articolo Gli “effetti” Lince in Afghanistan, si attribuiva il frequente ribaltamento dei LMV “normali“, non quelli ulteriormente appesantiti di 330 kg in torretta, al posizionamento della cellula di sicurezza che alzava a livelli di guardia il baricentro.
Abbiamo tenuta coperta la fonte di informazione nell’intento di evitarne la possibile identificazione (e problemi annessi). Fino a quel momento c’erano state sul LMV della FIAT Iveco solo montagne di apprezzamenti. Un coro senza stonature che puzzava e puzza ampiamente di zolfo. Complicità e interessi di lobbies hanno fatto muro. Poi c’è chi vede bianco quello che è nero.  Sono i sanfedisti del Lince che lincia. Il più delle volte sono in buona fede facendo paragoni sbagliati con mezzi “analoghi” di produzione USA.
Ecco cosa ci ha detto un ufficiale, che vuole giustamente mantenere l’anonimato, che da quelle parti c’è stato e ha messo le chiappe sui sedili della “cellula di sicurezza“ del FIAT Iveco: “ …prima del LMV della Iveco usavamo i Puma. Dopo le pesanti perdite registrate, li abbiamo messi da parte. Aspettiamo di rispedirli indietro. Pesano 6.8 tonnellate, sono mezzi all’apparenza imponenti, “sicuri”, con una trazione 4×4 o 6×6. Il primo impiego operativo è stato in Iraq. Il costo complessivo di produzione è stato di 305 milioni di euro ma i Puma hanno una struttura costruttiva rigida totalmente inadatta ad assorbire gli effetti esplosivi. Effetti che si trasferiscono, in caso di esplosioni, all’interno del blindato, sull’equipaggio, con conseguenze che il più delle volte, sopratutto alla periferia di Kabul, si sono rivelati mortali … “.
Perdite di vite ed ingenti costi materiali in fumo. Sostituire una linea di “blindati” costa alla gente perbene, quella che paga le tasse, centinaia di milioni di euro.
La Repubblica delle Banane ha sostituito i Puma con i Lince. L’avventurismo bellico di Napolitano, Frattini e La Russa, sta producendo i suoi effetti.
E vediamo cosa aggiunge il nostro interlocutore sui LMV “normali“: “ …il Lince ha una luce da terra di 460 mm, il peso della sola ralla con una MG – mitragliatrice leggera in calibro 7.62 al posto della pesante Browning in 12.7 testata ad Herat – pesa oltre 130 kg senza la protezione “piastre” che abbiamo costruito, alla buona, ad Herat a difesa dell’operatore. Se si carica questo peso sulla testa di un SUV alla prima normalissima curva in asfalto anche a bassa velocità si finisce a testa in giù. Su terreni sterrati, impervi, estremamente impegnativi, il Lince manifesta una forte tendenza al ribaltamento. Gli inglesi, è vero, ne hanno acquistati 400 dalla FIAT Iveco ma non li usano in Afghanistan. Li impiegano soprattutto, in servizio di ordine pubblico, nell’Irlanda del Nord…”.
Questa dichiarazione, da sola, mette bene in evidenza le vergognose manfrine di Ignazio La Russa che parla a Porta a Porta di “San Lince”, protettore del contingente tricolore in Afghanistan, alla presenza della senatrice Roberta Pinotti, responsabile “difesa“ per il PD, invitata nel salotto di Vespa su pressione del Ministro della Difesa a fare “opposizione“ senza fiatare.
PdL e PD finanziano e rifinanziano, in combutta, senza rossori la nostra (?) “missione di pace“.
Un teatrino che segnala una gravissima emergenza nell’”informazione” e nella politica estera e militare del Paese.
Giancarlo Chetoni

Addendum 28/10/2009
Dalle parti di Herat. Un Lince “normale” su terreno riportato, con l’evidente intento di dimostrarne la stabilità, affronta una pendenza semplice largamente inferiore alle specifiche di progetto, senza mitragliatrice Mauser 7.62 con piastre a protezione dell’operatore né in calibro 12.7 mm su ralla. Una prestazione giudicata evidentemente ottimale per essere propagandata e che la dice lunga.
Notare come il Lince si sia già mangiato lo spazio luce tra parafiamma e terreno. Non tutte le ciambelle riescono col buco.

(Yes, I know. I don’t blog for like 2 1/2 months and now I won’t shut up. But bear with me.)

To read Browning he must exert himself, but he will exert himself to some purpose. If he finds the meaning difficult of access, it is always worth his effort — if he has to dive deep, “he rises with his pearl.”

This comment comes from George Eliot’s review of Men and Women that was published in the Westminster Review. (Thanks, Norton editors!) The observation that Browning’s work is difficult but rewards thought is hardly exclusive to Eliot. In fact, it’s more or less a commonplace about Browning and, I think we could see with fairly little effort how this kind of attitude produces on the one hand the Browning Societies of the 1880s and — in a much more nuanced, scholarly context, something like Donald Hair’s discussion of emblems in Robert Browning’s Language (1999) — the idea is basically that you have to work your way through the poem to find a  meaning that could not have been directly stated otherwise, engaging in an act of interpretation that is also, Hair argues, the process of saving one’s soul as far as Browning is concerned.

I am obviously on board with the idea that careful reading of poetry (or any literary text — or not-necessarily-literary text — for that matter) should be rewarding. But that’s different, I think, than saying that careful reading should be rewarded. A hair-splitting difference? Perhaps. But it helps me express something that bothers me about Eliot’s image of the reading of poetry as diving for a pearl — and, more than that, the implication that if you apply the correct, careful reading practices, you cannot help but come back with the pearl of meaning at the center of the poem. And as with Hair’s discussion of emblems and riddles, this seems to imply that there are right answers when it comes to these kinds of poems, even if we are meant to value the dive as much as or more than the pearl or the process of working out the riddle as much as or more highly than the answer to that riddle.

And I find myself wanting more, wanting something more uncertain, more contingent. This is the approach I’ve been trying to take in my reading of “An Epistle” for the last six months, but the poem does seem kind of impervious, at a certain level, to any kind of “new” reading — whether one applies New Criticism, historicism, deconstruction, Bakhtin, the best anyone seems to be able to do is come up with a slightly different version of the same story about faith and skepticism struggling with each other. Different approaches make it possible to notice different aspects of that struggle or read it in a slightly different way, but no amount of critical theory is going to be able to make the poem not be about Jesus, for instance. And this may be why, the last time I checked the MLA database, the last time anyone published an article on “An Epistle” was 1993.

It’s not that I think “An Epistle” is somehow not about the things that it is very obviously about. But I feel like there’s more to be done, that the working out of the riddle or the canonical Victorian religious doubt narrative may not actually be the most important thing to do. I hope, of course, that I can make this case from the poem — and I’m pretty sure that I can and will by December. But I’m beginning to see that a lot of this has to do with my resistance to the pearl-diving model of reading poetry, where we work hard and are sure to find a meaning. Perhaps what really needs to be interrogated here is something about the language of reading poetry — of what it means, for example, to “get something out of” a poem. It’s a discourse that we take for granted — one that I certainly do, particularly when trying to make the case for close reading to undergraduates — but it may be more difficult to do this if we’re going to take seriously the performative aspect of Victorian poetry, the whole “poetry as constitutive cultural event” school of thought. And I don’t think it’s a matter of shifting our attention from the pearl to the dive, but rather rethinking the metaphor entirely and changing the way we think about reading poetry. Part of the reason why I keep going back to Coleridge’s “poetic faith” is that it seems to imply a certain kind of contingency — the possibility and the threat not just of something overwhelming happening, but the equally and perhaps more terrifying (if we believe Lyotard) possibility of nothing happening. (Those of you who remember my ESA paper from March may recall that Peter only starts to sink *after* his faith has carried him to Jesus….)

I don’t know where I’m going with this at the moment, except towards another ginormous blog post. But at least now you have a sense of what I’m dealing with. And I’d be interested to know if anything of the foregoing seems like it might be valuable….

Once upon a time there was a Victorianist with a dream and that dream was to selectively blog her way through The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse, rescuing the obscure and occasionally poking fun at the canonical on a more or less weekly basis.

So, um…hi, blog. Sorry that I’ve been so quiet. The sad fact of the matter is that I’ve been busy, but busy mostly with being things other than a Victorianist (dream-inspired or otherwise). But I mean, it’s not like I have an MLA paper on Robert Browning to give in two months or anything….

Oh, wait. Yeah. Browning. Sigh.

I circumlocute. Among the things I’ve had the opportunity to learn about myself so far this semester is the rather dismal fact that my attention span is about 12 minutes. On a good day.

What you’re going to get from me in this post is something between an accounting of what it is I’ve been doing lately and a kind cri de coeur from the land of ABD (hence the News from a non-utopian Nowhere). All joking aside, I’m in a punishingly hard semester in terms of teaching and other work obligations — 8 a.m. classes and 12-hour days, with weeks punctuated by meetings that take me an hour to get to. Though I’m not really complaining — a lot of what I’m doing is at least intermittently satisfying, I’ve managed to take the advice my adviser gave me (in slightly stronger language) a couple of department parties ago with regards to not messing up my personal life, and I think I’ve actually managed to change some of my working and general life habits to match the reality of my work and life rather than hoping that reality will somehow bend to accommodate me. In a weird (and probably quasi-Victorian) way, I’m almost happy. And all of this is, I think, going to make me much better off in the long run, both in material terms (if nothing else, this is the first year I’ll make more  money than I did seven years ago as the office manager of a small nonprofit that shall remain nameless in Chicago) and in the lasting changes to my work habits, mindfulness, and focus.

In the meantime, though, I’ve also come to feel a definite narrowing in my intellectual life. It feels too much like my writing is being pushed to the margins, that I’m working twelve hour days on teaching and other stuff so that I can maybe sit down with my computer for two or three hours. Which is sort of a manifestation or symptom of what might be a kind of identity crisis for me — part of why I’ve been struggling lately is that I always seem to be losing my grip on my “scholarly” identity and finding myself scrambling to reassemble it. My scholarship and my teaching don’t overlap very much right now — though I am teaching a mini-unit on De Profundis, it’s still a composition course and even the way I teach Wilde is a bit of a relic from an earlier version of my scholarly self (circa 2007-08 or so) — and the same goes for my other job, which is a gig in Writing Across the Curriculum where I’m partnering with people far out of my field.

On any given day, then, my Victorianist / Long Nineteenth Century / Poetics and Theory persona isn’t the one that’s first in my mind — and if it is, I’m likely also nervous and stressed out about the tangle I’ve gotten myself into with Browning’s “An Epistle Containing the Strange Medical Experience of Karshish, the Arab Physician,” the subject of my upcoming MLA paper and my third dissertation chapter, but OMG can I really write an entire dissertation chapter on one single relatively short Browning poem that most normal people read once to appreciate the faith / skepticism tension and nod because we know that Jesus is the answer and then move onto something really important like The Ring and the Book and does this just make me look like I’m too dumb to work on actual Browning? &c. — the italicized portions being somewhat like the last time I talked to my aforementioned adviser who, after listening to me spend 20 minutes trying to articulate the thesis of my chapter commented that my problem was that my mind was too subtle. I’m pretty sure that was a compliment and, to be fair, I did leave that meeting feeling slightly more confident that this will all, eventually, come together and also with a better sense of where I was wasting my energy.

And it’s really since that meeting that I’ve begun to be able to explore the sources of my dissatisfaction with whatever progress I am or am not making. And I’m coming to realize that when I say (as I have been since late July), “I feel like I’ve been writing and rewriting the same twelve pages on ‘An Epistle’ since June,” the part that stresses me out the most is the part where I’ve been writing about one freaking poem. I mean, again, “An Epistle” ain’t The Ring and the Book and it doesn’t take a Browning Society to see that Jesus is the answer. I do think that ultimately it is a poem worth the effort I’ve put into it, but I’ve also begun to see that there’s a danger in this being the only poem I’m ever reading ever — and it’s beginning to feel that way. I realized with a start last weekend that I simply miss reading — I spent some lovely hours with Jean-Francois Lyotard this week that felt like 2005 all over again.

And it’s these kinds of sentiments (well, and Mia’s gentle prodding) that have brought me back, humbly, to the blog. I need to find the thread again. I need to be sharing my ideas with people who aren’t college freshmen, as delightful as they are. I need to talk about my dissertation in a way that’s a bit deeper than “oh, so what are you writing about?” — I need to find my way through the field again. I hope I haven’t painted too bleak a picture in the foregoing paragraphs — I’m not unhappy about anything so much as I want to make things better, to make room in my life for the thing that brought me here in the first place, with the ideas that got me into MLA and Victorian Poetry.

So let’s see how this goes. I would like to think of my return to blogging here from ABDland as something that could be complementary to Mia’s work on her orals lists, a way of both trying out ideas and inspirations and of reflecting on the process and the life as a whole. If I’m feeling frisky I might just get crazy and pull out the OBVV again.

In the meantime, this is officially the longest post ever, so I will thank you all for indulging a post more personal than scholarly. I also think I might go reread Derrida’s “Psyche: Inventions of the Other”…or maybe some Browning that is not about Lazarus or the Bible or resurrection as troping as referential uncertainty. Just another Saturday in Paradise, yo.

8 October, Thursday.

Today was a little more interesting, at least. In Brit Lit, we technically had papers due (eight to ten pages, eep) but she had told us that we could turn them in on Tuesday if we wanted, so naturally no one turned them in. After that, I talked to Thuy for a while, who had gotten to school at seven am and was on the verge of insanity at that point. Then we went to Mystics. We were missing things from our course reader again, so of course Conty kept railing about the inefficiency of the copy people. She really gets mad at them. It was kind of funny. Italian was the same as usual, with a lot of random talking, which is hard when half the people in our class refuse to talk in Italian, partially because I’m pretty sure they can’t. Which is fine, except that it makes conversation a little difficult when you’re cobbling along in English, Italian, and Spanish.

We were supposed to be discussing this paragraph in the book, but most of the vocabulary was unfamiliar to us and, since we are never really given new words to know, we were all very confused and were struggling to discuss it. Thankfully, when she called on me, Mary Therese tried to answer and Maggini had to tell her not to, giving me enough time to come up with something halfway decent for what we had talked about, when really we had talked about how we had no idea what the paragraph was saying because we haven’t learned anything. That night, we all made dinner together and then Marcelo came over. He, Genie, Katie, Cindy, and Katrina and I played cards and had some delicious Spumante from the GS. Cindy made Marcelo her partner so he kept losing every time she did, and then Marcelo kept sneakily asking questions when we weren’t paying attention (part of the game) so the rest of us would lose. But it was a lot of fun and some good roommate bonding, and after I even got some homework done before bed.

The Editor Speaketh: For the past two and a half years, every day I’ve prepared new Daily Bulletin postings for you guys. Rain or shine, without a single day off — 956 days in a row to be precise. But today’s my birthday, and, well, I decided to take a day off and go shooting.

Don’t fret — so dedicated readers don’t go through Bulletin withdrawal, here are quick links to some of our “Greatest Hits” from 2009 — the coolest videos and the most interesting stories. For each item, click the blue link to read the full, original story. NOTE: when you get to the bottom of the page, click “Older Posts” for even MORE Greatest Hits!

As for me … I’ll be sending some lead downrange.

Greatest Hits: Anschutz Photo Shoot Video — Babes ‘N Arms”
Great-looking blond handling state-of-the-art German firearams. What’s not to like?

Fenómenos – La Parada de los Monstruos

AÑO 1932
DURACIÓN 64 min.
PAÍS [Estados Unidos]
DIRECTOR Tod Browning
GUIÓN Willis Goldbeck, Leon Gordon, Al Boasberg
MÚSICA Richard Wagner
FOTOGRAFÍA Merrit B. Gerstad (B&W)
REPARTO Wallace Ford, Olga Baclanova, Leila Hyams, Roscoe Ates, Harry Earles, Henry Victor, Daisy Earles
PRODUCTORA Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Drama. Terror

SINOPSIS: En un circo lleno de tullidos, personas con múltiples amputaciones y otros seres deformes, Hans, uno de los enanos, hereda una fortuna. A partir de ese momento Cleopatra, una bella contorsionista, intentará seducirle por todos los medios con tal de hacerse con su dinero, para lo cual traza un plan junto al forzudo del circo, Hércules… (FILMAFFINITY)
—————————————-
“Valiente hasta la náusea. Todo un clásico monstruoso” (Ramón F. Reboiras: Cinemanía)
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“El más furibundo alegato a favor de la diferencia de la historia del cine.” (Miguel Ángel Palomo: Diario El País)

Ingles subtitulada al español
Excelente aporte de RHAS

http://lix.in/-3cdb38
http://lix.in/-416f1b
http://lix.in/-42f5bc

Gracias a Charly, Maxi y Rhas

CDNN Investments is a large retailer that acquires overstock inventories of rifles, shotguns, and pistols, as well as shooting accessories. You can often purchase brand new rifles for 50% to 70% of the original retail price. And this includes major brands such as Browning, Remington, Ruger, T/C, and Winchester. Just released, CDNN’s latest catalog includes great deals on FN (Winchester M70-type) actions with scope rail and box magazine ($349.99, p.33), Ruger No. 1s ($699.99, p.35), and T/C Icon hunting rifles (starting at $499.99, p.40).

CLICK HERE to download the latest catalog (29.2 megabyte PDF file).

We found some great deals in the new CDNN catalog. Hunters should check out the Winchester m70 Super Shadow package. Complete with a composite stock and Simmons 3-9×40mm scope, this light-weight (6 lb.), 7mm WSM hunting rifle is just $389.99 (catalog, p.39). A complete elk-hunting rig for under $400 is a bargain.

Hunters or target shooters who travel by air should consider the Browning 4-gun Travel Case (catalog, p.121). This torpedo-shaped container holds up to four (4) long-guns in soft bags. Airline-approved, these Browning cases are quite durable. Their 4-gun capacity lets you avoid expensive baggage surcharges. If you’re headed out on a varmint hunt with multiple rifles, this is a good option. Regularly priced at $120.00, the Browning Airline case is just $49.99.

Owners of Sigarms SSG 3000 and Sauer 200 series rifles should act quickly. The complete factory 22 rimfire Conversion Kit, normally $2000.00, is on sale at CDNN for just $799.99 (catalog, p.98). This Kit includes bolt, magazine adapter, and 22LR barrel. CLICK HERE for a previous Daily Bulletin report showing this conversion in a Sauer 202 rifle. It is a very slick system that lets you use your normal stock, action, and trigger. Grab it at this price.

Browning Kodiak FDT (Field Dressing Knife)
@ P5,200

Browning KODIAK FDT Field Dressing Tool, 3-Blade (drop-point knife, Saw, push-pull Hidecutter)
Each of the highly functional knife blades is made from 440C-type stainless steel, then given a non-reflective corrosion resistant coating. All three blades lock independently for stability and security. The main drop-point blade is designed for convenient one-hand operation. The saw blade is designed to cut on the push stroke as well as the pull stroke. It can also be quickly replaced when necessary. The unique push pull hide-cutter blade can be used as a standard gut blade when pushed under the hide or or as a guthook when pulled. Skinning and field dressing jobs are much easier because you don’t have to constantly reposition the knife in your hand. The highly impact resistant Zytel® handle features a checkered rubber inlay to provide a better grip for those tough jobs. Includes a rugged Ballistic Cloth sheath. Designed by Michael Collin

El que escucha música siente que su soledad, de repente, se puebla.

Robert Browning

I played Super Robot Wars in Nintendo DS and I met Haken Browning. One of the cool yet perverted character in this game series. Then, I met Excellen Browning picture in the internet and I was wondering, are the two of them related? Anyway, I immediately make a Rainmeter skin out of her.

Skin Name: Excellen Browning Rainmeter

File Size: 157 KB

Color Theme: Red

Download: http://www.4shared.com/file/134812310/d9397bed/ExcellenBrowning.html

Note: A Rainmeter application can be downloaded in my previous post. Don’t forget to extract and move the folder to your Rainmeter skin directory. happy downloading!

The fall of the Shannon is concentrated between Killaloe, at the bottom of Lough Derg, and Limerick, at the head of the Shannon Estuary. It is that fall, of almost 100 feeet, that made possible the construction of the hydroelectric power station at Ardnacrusha in the 1920s. Its designers were not the first people to realise the usefulness of the water-power of the Shannon in that area, but they were almost the first to use it: there were few mills between Killaloe and Plassey, and that at O’Briensbridge used water from the Bridgetown direction rather than from the Shannon.

There were, however, two bleach mills, one at Doonass on the County Clare side of the Shannon and one at Castleconnell on the Co Limerick side. The Doonass mill seems to have been set up, around 1760, by Hercules Browning or Brownriggs. There is little trace of the mill itself, but its intake and outlet canals are still to be seen. The really interesting thing is that there are two outlets: the shorter returns to the Shannon almost immediately below the mill while the longer runs for almost half a mile, behind a hill, before it rejoins the river.

I don’t know why it has two outlets. It is possible that the system catered for much higher water levels with greater variation between summer and winter. It is conceivable that the longer arm might have been used to carry the produce of the mill downstream, although I have no evidence for that and I’m not sure where the goods would have gone after the outlet rejoined the river. The watercourse is referred to locally as Conway’s Canal, but I don’t think that is evidence that it ever carried anything.

Anyway, here are maps, photos and as much background information as I could find. Comments, suggestions and explanations will be welcome.