The snow has stopped here in Oxford, after the better part of a week, though the skies are still grey and the wind biting. What they call "snow" here turns out to be more like "very small hail" and a "major storm" is what those in Michigan would call "a Tuesday in October"...still, we take what we can get, I suppose. It is interesting to see those here at the Vines from warmer climes reacting to snow with wonder and amazement, even going to far as to film it on one of the ubiquitous digital cameras that lie about here. Speaking about filming...
I make an appearance in another amateur movie here. This one is a bit longer, a bit stranger, and a bit fiction...er. The story stands as a bit of a mystery in the house, not because of any attempts at secrecy, but merely because none of the participants really have a solid grasp on the thing. It (entitled "The Agony of Loyala") involves a detective, his trusty manservant Loyala (from the title, you see), animal sterilization, a host of other bizarre characters (Palatial Jones? Aunt Rubicon?), and the Church of Scientology. See, "theology" is the study of "theo" (track with me here, and don't let logic or reality trip you up), so "scientology" is the study of "Sciento", the Roman god of pigs and rain, who factors into the film. (No! Stop that! I said no logic!) Right. My total involvement: approx 3 minutes onscreen. In fact, I think it took me longer to type this inadequate summary than it would to watch my part in the film. Anyway, rest assured, an online version, if it exists, will be linked to from this page as soon as it...um...exists.
The past week or two I have been trying to fill the gaping chasm of lack of cultural/artistic stimulation that has developed during my time in Oxford. I've been to two plays, the symphony (does anyone else notice that Howard Shore owes a bit to Dvorak's 9th?), and a musical review. The plays, for those of you interested in that sort of thing, were "Cigarettes and Coffee" and "The Philanthropist". Both were (more of less) student productions. The production values were a bit low (but really, that adds to the atmosphere) but the acting was solid, if not flawless (at least on par with a *good* community theatre show in GR), and there were some iffy directorial and acting choices and so forth...goodness...have I become a theatre snob or do I actually know what I am talking about?...The musical review was fun because Kim, one of our own, was a participant, a third of the audience was made up of members of the program. (To anyone curious, another of Ryan Swindoll's famous video treatments of the event is available here) Kim was good (I've heard her sing on other occasions as well, and think she could easily manage a major part or a lead in a CU musical), as was another girl and one of the tenors, and there was a baritone there who was exceedingly impressive. He managed the part of Javier from Le Mis with aplomb, and Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.
And while I am on the subject of things probably none of you will ever hear or see (and consequently may have little interest in), I may as well rant about Scott and Sarah; they are a married couple here at the Vines, and form a musical "act" of sorts. He writes songs and plays guitar (incidentally, he is also writer/director/producer of "The Agony of Loyala" and he wrote all the songs. What? Oh, yes, the movie is a *musical.* No, I am not kidding.) and she sings. And boy does she sing. Stick Norah Jones, Natalie Merchant, and (someone said) Janice Joplin in a blender, and you are probably somewhere in the neighborhood. Actually, don't. That "blender" metaphor is suddenly disturbing and macabre. The point is, I would listen to her sing the phone book. Chell and I stayed up until 3:30am the other day sitting with them in the common room and listening to their stuff. *sigh* Good times..yes..good times..hmm..where was I going with any of this? Yeah, I got nothing.
This Tuesday night, some of us are going into London to celebrate Katrina's birthday, including a showing of the Reduced Shakespeare Company's "Complete History of America : Abridged." Should be interesting to see what the Brits have to say about us, especially considering that whole fiasco known as the "War for Independence" ("Haha, we are His Majesty's Army, marching through the forests with bright red coats! Surely our powdered wigs and drinking songs cannot fail to defeat those buckskinned colonials running about those dirty woods with their--"*BANG**THUD*...but I digress.)Although, there was a snowball fight between the denizens of the Vines our neighbors at Oxford Brookes university (one of the OTHER universities in Oxford), and there was a lot of clever historical trash talk going on. Well, frankly, most of it was coming from our side; in this case the vaunted rapier British wit consisted of profanities and references to various parts of the anatomy.
--Reading (Amongst others, naturally)--
-"When We Were Orphans" by Kazuo Ishiguro: Good so far. From the author of "The Remains of the Day"
-"His Dark Materials" trilogy, by Philip Pullman
-"Sandman" by Neil Gaiman
--Recently Read--
-"The Talisman" by Steven King and Peter Straub: Don't let the "horror" verbage on the back fool you; simply a wonderful adventure/fantasy story.
-"Tietam Brown" by Mick Foley: Yes, the wrestler. Don't laugh, the man can write. The book is harsh, crude at times, and a bit dark, so I cannot give a universal recommendation, but if you can stand it, worth a read. Shades of Salinger. Except stuff actually happens.
--Listening To--
-Vienna Teng: I cannot recommend her enough. Listen to her; everyone who does falls under her spell
I think that is enough randomness for now. Another update sometime this week.
The Grace and Peace of our Lord be with you all,
Brian
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Two Days After the Day Before Yesterday
Greetings,
Obviously, the "posting every night before I go to bed" thing did not really work out very well, partly because for the past few days I have not been going to bed during what is technically considered 'night,' and partly because the last few days have been (ostensibly) dominated by schoolwork, and there is little worth sharing. I suppose, then, I could have lowered the bucket of determination into the wellspring of creativity and drawn forth fresh water for one and all, but I have this nagging shoulder injury, you see, and the bucket has a hole in it, and...
Had a meeting this Thursday to discuss the topic of my "Big Paper" for my theology seminar. Still a little bit fuzzy, but I am thinking of doing something on free will (or *not* doing something on free will...ha! get it?...you see, because...oh, never mind) or the temporality of God, or original sin, or the failure of Christianity to take root in 17th century Japan. At least my ideas are all related somehow.
Fencing today. Somehow in six bouts I managed to remain undefeated, though I am sure I owe a bit more to happenstance and special intervention by St. George and St. Belvidere (the patron saint of novice fencers studying abroad in Oxford who have blue eyes...and schizophrenics, oddly enough); I even managed to avenge my loss last week to Simon, though I still believe he is a better fencer. (Bouting Simon is fun, because I get the feeling I am "really swordfighting," with lots of aggression, wild flurries, and stylish bladework.)
Tonight as I was turning down Pullens Lane, whereupon is my humble abode, I found a particularly fine stick. It was calling me, just like Excalibur, only without the rock or the bothersome claim to the throne. I have yet to determine if it is a fighting stick, a walking stick, or that most rare of naturally occurring wooden constructs: a fighting walking stick.
Oh, and you all must go here as soon as humanly possible and watch the video. It is a Vines rendition of "The Real World." Yours truly has only a cameo appearance (cameotic?), but it is very well done, and will introduce you to some of my housemates.
Grace be with you all,
Brian
Obviously, the "posting every night before I go to bed" thing did not really work out very well, partly because for the past few days I have not been going to bed during what is technically considered 'night,' and partly because the last few days have been (ostensibly) dominated by schoolwork, and there is little worth sharing. I suppose, then, I could have lowered the bucket of determination into the wellspring of creativity and drawn forth fresh water for one and all, but I have this nagging shoulder injury, you see, and the bucket has a hole in it, and...
Had a meeting this Thursday to discuss the topic of my "Big Paper" for my theology seminar. Still a little bit fuzzy, but I am thinking of doing something on free will (or *not* doing something on free will...ha! get it?...you see, because...oh, never mind) or the temporality of God, or original sin, or the failure of Christianity to take root in 17th century Japan. At least my ideas are all related somehow.
Fencing today. Somehow in six bouts I managed to remain undefeated, though I am sure I owe a bit more to happenstance and special intervention by St. George and St. Belvidere (the patron saint of novice fencers studying abroad in Oxford who have blue eyes...and schizophrenics, oddly enough); I even managed to avenge my loss last week to Simon, though I still believe he is a better fencer. (Bouting Simon is fun, because I get the feeling I am "really swordfighting," with lots of aggression, wild flurries, and stylish bladework.)
Tonight as I was turning down Pullens Lane, whereupon is my humble abode, I found a particularly fine stick. It was calling me, just like Excalibur, only without the rock or the bothersome claim to the throne. I have yet to determine if it is a fighting stick, a walking stick, or that most rare of naturally occurring wooden constructs: a fighting walking stick.
Oh, and you all must go here as soon as humanly possible and watch the video. It is a Vines rendition of "The Real World." Yours truly has only a cameo appearance (cameotic?), but it is very well done, and will introduce you to some of my housemates.
Grace be with you all,
Brian
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
What Day is it Now?
Greetings, all
Just a quick post regarding my latest happenings and goings on for the past few days. Humour, useful information, and especially my actual thoughts and feelings (the latter, I have noticed, are conspicuously absent from this journal; I seem to prefer a laundry list of activities and stories, with the occasional witty or sarcastic comment...oh...wait...that's how I am in real life, too...nevermind) will most likely not appear.
Yesterday I got up a scant 15 minutes after my alarm went off. Victory! But, inexplicably the night before I had thought my lecture was an hour later than it was, so I was still too late to go. Defeat! Oh, the capricious fates! There was, however, ballroom dancing to be done. We learned the Viennese Waltz (which is a bit difficult to master in one go 'round) and the samba (which is simpler, at least when the instructor is not teaching a VAST number of variations and extra things, all the while saying he should not be giving you so much at one time). I have come to the conclusion that the dance teacher, while unquestionably British, also seems to be from New Jersey. Don't ask me how this strange ethno-spiritual melding exists. (One ousia, two hypostases?) Last night was also Bible study, led by my roommate. I have long been feeling the need for more community prayer and worship in my life, and even our simple gathering was like oxygen.
Today was "Finally getting out of bed much later than you wanted to" Day, the holiday being shared with pretty much Every Other Freaking Day. Much running about and energy lost in friction...grocery shopping...I got chicken...and ciabatta bread...and...um...*snaps* Oh. Right. Went to another CSL Society meeting tonight, where we listened to a "Professional Stage Actor" do excerpts from his reading of The Great Divorce. Very well done, I must admit. Walked back through lovely University Parks with Chelle and Mike. Simple and aesthetically pleasing dinner with Phil. (Why am I even mentioning all of this? Does anyone care? Goodness, I am starting to read like a bad memoir. Why didn't someone *say* something?)
From all those to whom I am long overdue in emailing and/or writing letters (and you know who you are), I ask forgiveness and patience. Please trust that you are not forgotten, for you remain in my thoughts and prayers.
I leave you with the Peace Prayer of St. Francis:
"O Lord, make me an instrument of Thy Peace!
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is discord, harmony.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sorrow, joy.
Oh Divine Master, grant that I may not
so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life."
Grace be with you all,
Brian
Just a quick post regarding my latest happenings and goings on for the past few days. Humour, useful information, and especially my actual thoughts and feelings (the latter, I have noticed, are conspicuously absent from this journal; I seem to prefer a laundry list of activities and stories, with the occasional witty or sarcastic comment...oh...wait...that's how I am in real life, too...nevermind) will most likely not appear.
Yesterday I got up a scant 15 minutes after my alarm went off. Victory! But, inexplicably the night before I had thought my lecture was an hour later than it was, so I was still too late to go. Defeat! Oh, the capricious fates! There was, however, ballroom dancing to be done. We learned the Viennese Waltz (which is a bit difficult to master in one go 'round) and the samba (which is simpler, at least when the instructor is not teaching a VAST number of variations and extra things, all the while saying he should not be giving you so much at one time). I have come to the conclusion that the dance teacher, while unquestionably British, also seems to be from New Jersey. Don't ask me how this strange ethno-spiritual melding exists. (One ousia, two hypostases?) Last night was also Bible study, led by my roommate. I have long been feeling the need for more community prayer and worship in my life, and even our simple gathering was like oxygen.
Today was "Finally getting out of bed much later than you wanted to" Day, the holiday being shared with pretty much Every Other Freaking Day. Much running about and energy lost in friction...grocery shopping...I got chicken...and ciabatta bread...and...um...*snaps* Oh. Right. Went to another CSL Society meeting tonight, where we listened to a "Professional Stage Actor" do excerpts from his reading of The Great Divorce. Very well done, I must admit. Walked back through lovely University Parks with Chelle and Mike. Simple and aesthetically pleasing dinner with Phil. (Why am I even mentioning all of this? Does anyone care? Goodness, I am starting to read like a bad memoir. Why didn't someone *say* something?)
From all those to whom I am long overdue in emailing and/or writing letters (and you know who you are), I ask forgiveness and patience. Please trust that you are not forgotten, for you remain in my thoughts and prayers.
I leave you with the Peace Prayer of St. Francis:
"O Lord, make me an instrument of Thy Peace!
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is discord, harmony.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sorrow, joy.
Oh Divine Master, grant that I may not
so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life."
Grace be with you all,
Brian
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Keeping on Truckin'... er ...Bussin'....Walkin'?
Greetings and salutations, one and all,
Just a brief update, most likely bereft of witticisms, listing off in mechanical fashion the events of my weekend, so I can be considered, in at least some small way, a man of my word, and a person who, continually, and perhaps needlessly, constructs sentences laced with commas (and also parenthetical expressions), which tend to lengthen to an extreme degree, and often create pointless complication in, my overall narrative structure.
Ahem.
Ahem.
Yesterday, being Saturday (though not really because it is actually early Monday as I write this), was the Ice Cream Social here at the Vines, where people were encouraged to get to know a flavour of ice cream they were not previously acquainted with (or "with which they were not previously acquainted." There? Happy? Sheesh). I socialized a little bit with a mug of vanila with Smarties and whipped cream,
***Interruption Explain British Candy System***
Greetings. Again. Yes, well, you see they don't have "Hershey's" or "Mars" or things for the most part over here. Almost all the chocolate here is Cadbury. Yes, that company known only in the United States for their eggs and clucking bunnies are actually manufacturers and purveyors of all manner of fine chocolate and candy products. Quite frankly it is, on the whole, better than in the States. But, what that means is that, for the most part, there are no M&Ms to be found here, though there are *some* American candy bars to be found, if you search. So, instead of M&Ms, which I would normally put on my ice cream, I settled on Smarties, which are *like* M&Ms (say, should I put an apostrophe in that? Yes, I suppose I probably should. But it would be a tremendous expenditure of effort to go back and find every reference to M&Ms and add an apostrophe. And I am all about efficitency of typing)(note: The last parenthetical expression was a joke. If you don't get it, read it again and think about it. Got it? Well, I didn't say it was *funny*, I just wanted to make sure you got it. If still no, ask a grownup) except they are a little bigger, and they have a thicker candy coating.
***End...umm...Whatever it was I Started***
though I did not necessarily feel tremendously social that afternoon. That was about it, besides spending the rest of the day somewhere in the borderland between fun and work, not really enjoying the priveliges of either, but still having the border guards shooting at me, or at least throwing rocks and calling me bad names.
Today, I went to fencing again, which was fun, though I am faced with the fact that I am not very good. I mean, at this point none of the beginners in the class are good, and compared to some people I'm sure I am Inigo Montoya (we had bouts today, and at least one looked more like broadsword fighting), but I always tend to have this Sherlock Holmes "I should have mastered it by now" attitude going on.
After fencing, I went to Woodstock (the Other Place) for our own little Fight Club. It was mostly wrestling and grappling, with the slight air of a class (Nate, our assistant Junior Dean, has had several years of solid martial arts training). I managed one quick victory with a takedown and a neck crank, but my two matches with Nate ended in defeat. The first time round I managed a Kimura (but he hooked his fingers on his trousers, cagey bugger), a decent guard, from which I almost landed a successful armbar, so I was content, especially considering I wasn't submitted (both times tapped from exhuastion; between fencing and rolling, I was pretty much gone).
Church this evening was Evensong at New College, where they have one of the top boys' choirs in the country. It was very impressive, and the ancient chapel and candlelight lent a certain amount of atmosphere.
That's probably about it for now. But remember, keep sending me your emails and comments, and I will keep making fun of your grammar and punctuation.
En Christo,
Brian
Just a brief update, most likely bereft of witticisms, listing off in mechanical fashion the events of my weekend, so I can be considered, in at least some small way, a man of my word, and a person who, continually, and perhaps needlessly, constructs sentences laced with commas (and also parenthetical expressions), which tend to lengthen to an extreme degree, and often create pointless complication in, my overall narrative structure.
Ahem.
Ahem.
Yesterday, being Saturday (though not really because it is actually early Monday as I write this), was the Ice Cream Social here at the Vines, where people were encouraged to get to know a flavour of ice cream they were not previously acquainted with (or "with which they were not previously acquainted." There? Happy? Sheesh). I socialized a little bit with a mug of vanila with Smarties and whipped cream,
***Interruption Explain British Candy System***
Greetings. Again. Yes, well, you see they don't have "Hershey's" or "Mars" or things for the most part over here. Almost all the chocolate here is Cadbury. Yes, that company known only in the United States for their eggs and clucking bunnies are actually manufacturers and purveyors of all manner of fine chocolate and candy products. Quite frankly it is, on the whole, better than in the States. But, what that means is that, for the most part, there are no M&Ms to be found here, though there are *some* American candy bars to be found, if you search. So, instead of M&Ms, which I would normally put on my ice cream, I settled on Smarties, which are *like* M&Ms (say, should I put an apostrophe in that? Yes, I suppose I probably should. But it would be a tremendous expenditure of effort to go back and find every reference to M&Ms and add an apostrophe. And I am all about efficitency of typing)(note: The last parenthetical expression was a joke. If you don't get it, read it again and think about it. Got it? Well, I didn't say it was *funny*, I just wanted to make sure you got it. If still no, ask a grownup) except they are a little bigger, and they have a thicker candy coating.
***End...umm...Whatever it was I Started***
though I did not necessarily feel tremendously social that afternoon. That was about it, besides spending the rest of the day somewhere in the borderland between fun and work, not really enjoying the priveliges of either, but still having the border guards shooting at me, or at least throwing rocks and calling me bad names.
Today, I went to fencing again, which was fun, though I am faced with the fact that I am not very good. I mean, at this point none of the beginners in the class are good, and compared to some people I'm sure I am Inigo Montoya (we had bouts today, and at least one looked more like broadsword fighting), but I always tend to have this Sherlock Holmes "I should have mastered it by now" attitude going on.
After fencing, I went to Woodstock (the Other Place) for our own little Fight Club. It was mostly wrestling and grappling, with the slight air of a class (Nate, our assistant Junior Dean, has had several years of solid martial arts training). I managed one quick victory with a takedown and a neck crank, but my two matches with Nate ended in defeat. The first time round I managed a Kimura (but he hooked his fingers on his trousers, cagey bugger), a decent guard, from which I almost landed a successful armbar, so I was content, especially considering I wasn't submitted (both times tapped from exhuastion; between fencing and rolling, I was pretty much gone).
Church this evening was Evensong at New College, where they have one of the top boys' choirs in the country. It was very impressive, and the ancient chapel and candlelight lent a certain amount of atmosphere.
That's probably about it for now. But remember, keep sending me your emails and comments, and I will keep making fun of your grammar and punctuation.
En Christo,
Brian
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Wake Up, Wake up, Dead Man...
Greetings and salutations from the land of the rising...umm...Union Jack?
I am aware that there are murmurings in the ranks of my friends, family, and acquaintances, essentially stating that I am not keeping up in my correspondence, and not updating my blog enough. One email to this effect declared me, and I quote, "a poopface," because of my negligence. For this, I can only offer my sincerest apologies, and a pledge to do better. My new attempt at a routine includes at least a brief update every night before I go to bed. To whit:
When we last left our hero, he was sick in bed, hoping to rally his strength (and his supply of contraband American medications) to attend fencing lessons the following afternoon. We now resume...
***Resuming Sunday the 23rd***
Wow! I sure did have a swell time at fencing lessons today! I learned all about footwork, some basic attacks and defenses, and even got to wear the neat protective gear and fight with a foil! (Sadly, the foil emerged victorious...) Sarah (a girl from the Vines) and I both had a great time, and plan to go back. We searched in vain for a Chinese food restuarant afterwards, but apparently, despite the fact that they are an extremely irreligious people on the whole, the English close most businesses on Sunday.
Went to church at St. Andrew's, an "American Evangelical Anglican" church, for evening service tonight. The message was excellent, using the book of Isaiah to explore the topic of what it is like when God seems to be silent and distant from us. He played a video of a U2 (Andrew Kleyn!) song, "Wake Up Dead Man", in the course of the sermon. The song opens as follows:
***Begin Slightly Edited Lyrics Quotation***
***WARNING: Contains Asterisks some readers may find offensive***
"Jesus, Jesus help me
I'm alone in this world
And a f***** up world it is too
Tell me, tell me the story
The one about eternity
And the way it's all gonna be
WAKE UP WAKE UP DEAD MAN
WAKE UP WAKE UP DEAD MAN
Jesus, I'm waiting here boss
I know you're looking out for us
But maybe your hands aren't free
Your Father, He made the world in seven
He's in charge of Heaven
Will you put in a word for me ..."
***End Quotation***
I must confess, it was the first church service I have ever been to that contained the phrase "f***** up" as part of the sermon (the pastor did offer a disclaimer that there was a "very rude word" in the lyrics). There is a somewhat different attitude about that sort of thing here, but really, when you are speaking about the despair of the human soul before the face of a seemingly uncaring God, aren't harsh words a bit appropriate?
***Skipping Ahead to Tuesday the 25th***
This morning on the bus, a little English girl smiled at me and waved, her hand clutching her Winnie the Pooh doll. It was a smile that came in stages, like a time lapse film of a blossoming flower.
Tonight Phil and I went to a meeting of the "C.S. Lewis Society" here in Oxford. The rather smallish group (no more than 15 or 20 people, predominantly American) possessed a slightly eccentric, almost "Treckie" sort of air. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, I liked them, and both Phil and I joined for the term. The lecture was on the Biblical theology of Austin Farrar, an Anglican theologian and friend of the late Mr. Lewis. Interesting points, including a dating of Revelation *before* any of the gospel, Mark after AD 70, and dispensing with Q entirely (huzzah on the last one, I say).....for...um...those of you who care about that sort of things....anyway....probably good to...
***Skip Ahead some MORE, to Saturday the whatever it was***
***Written in the style of the great __Earnest Hemmingway__***
We went to London. We were all on a bus. The bus was red. London was a big town. We saw the River Thames. The river was murky and wet. Many people took pictures of things, stopping every few yards. We went to St. Paul's Cathedral. It was *hic* big. And it had a dome. The inside was very *hic* ornate. Everyone thought it was beautiful *hic*.
"This is beautiful."
"I think so, too."
"Do you?"
"I do."
"Really?"
"Yes."
*Hic* And then we all climbded *hic* the stairs, and got to go up inside the *hic* dome. And on the outside, too. It was *hic* scary, but we all had fun and *hic* made it to the top and then *hic* came back down again before we left. *Hic* *Hic*
*Click*
*BANG*
***Coming up to Speed***
Which brings me to this week. On Monday I went to Ballroom and Latin dance class with Anna, yet another girl from the Vines. It was an absolutely wonderful time! The dance instructor is like a well written film character, and aging English chap full of quips, sarcasm, and witty remarks. Worth the price of admission by himself, he is.
This past Tuesday, another CSL Society meeting, where we held a seance to bring Lewis back from the dead. He did come, verbally cut us to ribbons, and also informed us we would be killed by Philistines and our kingdom given to another.
I think that about covers it, a random smattering of my life from the past week and a half, no doubt missing all the interesting bits. Daily updates will miss less, I should think, if I can stick to them.
As Anne said, "Tomorrow is always fresh; we've no mistakes in it..."
I am aware that there are murmurings in the ranks of my friends, family, and acquaintances, essentially stating that I am not keeping up in my correspondence, and not updating my blog enough. One email to this effect declared me, and I quote, "a poopface," because of my negligence. For this, I can only offer my sincerest apologies, and a pledge to do better. My new attempt at a routine includes at least a brief update every night before I go to bed. To whit:
When we last left our hero, he was sick in bed, hoping to rally his strength (and his supply of contraband American medications) to attend fencing lessons the following afternoon. We now resume...
***Resuming Sunday the 23rd***
Wow! I sure did have a swell time at fencing lessons today! I learned all about footwork, some basic attacks and defenses, and even got to wear the neat protective gear and fight with a foil! (Sadly, the foil emerged victorious...) Sarah (a girl from the Vines) and I both had a great time, and plan to go back. We searched in vain for a Chinese food restuarant afterwards, but apparently, despite the fact that they are an extremely irreligious people on the whole, the English close most businesses on Sunday.
Went to church at St. Andrew's, an "American Evangelical Anglican" church, for evening service tonight. The message was excellent, using the book of Isaiah to explore the topic of what it is like when God seems to be silent and distant from us. He played a video of a U2 (Andrew Kleyn!) song, "Wake Up Dead Man", in the course of the sermon. The song opens as follows:
***Begin Slightly Edited Lyrics Quotation***
***WARNING: Contains Asterisks some readers may find offensive***
"Jesus, Jesus help me
I'm alone in this world
And a f***** up world it is too
Tell me, tell me the story
The one about eternity
And the way it's all gonna be
WAKE UP WAKE UP DEAD MAN
WAKE UP WAKE UP DEAD MAN
Jesus, I'm waiting here boss
I know you're looking out for us
But maybe your hands aren't free
Your Father, He made the world in seven
He's in charge of Heaven
Will you put in a word for me ..."
***End Quotation***
I must confess, it was the first church service I have ever been to that contained the phrase "f***** up" as part of the sermon (the pastor did offer a disclaimer that there was a "very rude word" in the lyrics). There is a somewhat different attitude about that sort of thing here, but really, when you are speaking about the despair of the human soul before the face of a seemingly uncaring God, aren't harsh words a bit appropriate?
***Skipping Ahead to Tuesday the 25th***
This morning on the bus, a little English girl smiled at me and waved, her hand clutching her Winnie the Pooh doll. It was a smile that came in stages, like a time lapse film of a blossoming flower.
Tonight Phil and I went to a meeting of the "C.S. Lewis Society" here in Oxford. The rather smallish group (no more than 15 or 20 people, predominantly American) possessed a slightly eccentric, almost "Treckie" sort of air. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, I liked them, and both Phil and I joined for the term. The lecture was on the Biblical theology of Austin Farrar, an Anglican theologian and friend of the late Mr. Lewis. Interesting points, including a dating of Revelation *before* any of the gospel, Mark after AD 70, and dispensing with Q entirely (huzzah on the last one, I say).....for...um...those of you who care about that sort of things....anyway....probably good to...
***Skip Ahead some MORE, to Saturday the whatever it was***
***Written in the style of the great __Earnest Hemmingway__***
We went to London. We were all on a bus. The bus was red. London was a big town. We saw the River Thames. The river was murky and wet. Many people took pictures of things, stopping every few yards. We went to St. Paul's Cathedral. It was *hic* big. And it had a dome. The inside was very *hic* ornate. Everyone thought it was beautiful *hic*.
"This is beautiful."
"I think so, too."
"Do you?"
"I do."
"Really?"
"Yes."
*Hic* And then we all climbded *hic* the stairs, and got to go up inside the *hic* dome. And on the outside, too. It was *hic* scary, but we all had fun and *hic* made it to the top and then *hic* came back down again before we left. *Hic* *Hic*
*Click*
*BANG*
***Coming up to Speed***
Which brings me to this week. On Monday I went to Ballroom and Latin dance class with Anna, yet another girl from the Vines. It was an absolutely wonderful time! The dance instructor is like a well written film character, and aging English chap full of quips, sarcasm, and witty remarks. Worth the price of admission by himself, he is.
This past Tuesday, another CSL Society meeting, where we held a seance to bring Lewis back from the dead. He did come, verbally cut us to ribbons, and also informed us we would be killed by Philistines and our kingdom given to another.
I think that about covers it, a random smattering of my life from the past week and a half, no doubt missing all the interesting bits. Daily updates will miss less, I should think, if I can stick to them.
As Anne said, "Tomorrow is always fresh; we've no mistakes in it..."
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