As we all know, I just love popes. In fact, if it seems like I haven’t been blogging too much lately, it’s because I’ve been spending a fair amount of spare time cross-stitching the likeness of Pope John Paul II. If you have never cross-stitched before, I can tell you that it takes hours and hours for it to look like you’ve done anything at all, but it is a good activity to do while you watch junky summer television.
Anyhoo, one of the reasons I’m big on popes is the concept of infallibility, which as super powers go, is a pretty good one. However, papal infallibility is a relatively new concept, brought about by Pope Pius IX. And today we shall discuss good ol’ Pius IX, because it was on this day in history in 1846 that he was elected pope.
Things started getting exciting as soon as Pius IX was elected pope, and I mean that literally, because Pius’s election was confirmed at nighttime, so there was no chance to spread the word about what had actually happened during the conclave. People assumed that this other guy had been elected pope, and as per tradition, the other guy’s pals went to his home and burned all his vestments because he would get new papal ones. Then, the next day, they find out that actually, that other guy wasn’t elected pope. AWKWARD.
Pius IX came into office at a tricky time during Italy’s history – the Risorgimento, or unification of Italy. At first, it looked like Pius IX was a liberal pope in favor of unification, because he did things like install streetlights and railroads, which his predecessor wouldn’t do because he claimed that the world should remain exactly as God made it. Pius also granted asylum to political prisoners and got the Austrians out of Italy. Though he was super popular, Pius IX didn’t want to be some sort of symbol for unification. By 1848, he had given a speech that writer Eamon Duffy, in his book “Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes,” called “a douche of icy water on the overheated enthusiasm which had surrounded his first two years as pope.” What an awesome sentence.
Anyways, people didn’t like the papal states holding up the unification process, so Pius IX went from super popular to super unpopular. Then Pius IX’s papal minster was assassinated. So Pius IX disguised himself as a priest, which I guess was not really that much of a disguise at all, and fled to Naples. By this point, Pius IX saw people working for unification as working for the devil, while he of course, worked for the Lord. Eventually Pius IX returned to Rome and the papal states fell. This is part of why papal infallibility came about. Because the pope lost so much political power in the transition, many people wanted to grant him increased spiritual power.
But before Pius IX pushed through infallibility for himself, he had some other things to attend to. One of his biggest accomplishments was the dogma of immaculate conception, as well as a publication entitled the “Syllabus of Errors,” which I think we must all agree is one of the most wonderful titles of anything in the history of the world. He was involved in this bizarre situation whereby a Jewish boy was taken from his parents, baptized as a Christian, and then kept away from his parents based on some rule that Christians couldn’t be raised by Jews; one of my pope books includes an anecdote of the pope playing hide-and-seek with the boy under his papal robe, a regrettable description in the light of recent sexual abuse in the church. Pius IX also called Vatican I, arguably in the top two as far as Vatican councils go. Pius IX was the first pope to be photographed, and he also got all this work done while suffering from epilepsy.
However, by the time he died, Pius IX was not liked that much. He spent his last years as the “prisoner of the Vatican,” which is not too bad a gig, and Pius actually did quite a bit in terms of sprucing up St. Peter’s and the Vatican. Still, he considered himself a prisoner because he didn’t like the financial arrangements or power structures that were offered to him after the Risorgimento. When his dead body was being moved to its burial place, people threw rocks at the procession and tried to throw his body into the Tiber River.
Despite all the controversy, though, John Paul II beatified him in 2000; one has to wonder if John Paul II thought that he would break Piux IX’s record as longest-serving pope (after Saint Peter). However, John Paul II only served as pope for almost 27 years, meaning that Pius IX is still the longest-serving pope, at a whopping 31 years and 7 months. The fun facts just don’t stop with Pius IX. Actually, they do. Longest-serving pope was the last fun fact I had at my disposal.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Book #12: Bel Canto
A few years ago, I was at a friend’s apartment, and she had a copy of “Bel Canto” by Ann Patchett sitting in the bathroom. “I love this book,” she said. “But I can never seem to finish it.” Now, having finished up “Bel Canto” myself, I can see why she said that. When I was reading the book, I was completely enthralled. But then, I would put the book down for days at a time and care little what happened to the characters inside, despite the fact that they were in a very life-or-death situation: a hostage crisis. It’s the most leisurely hostage crisis you will ever read about.
Here is the basic plot: a group of notable people have gathered in an unnamed South American country for a Japanese businessman’s birthday party. The attendees think that the Japanese businessman will build a factory in the town, but the businessman is only interested in the night’s entertainment, which is his favorite opera singer. After she finishes singing, terrorists take the group hostage, and the ordeal lasts for months and months, which gives the characters some time to make unlikely connections. While staying suitably vague, I can only say that the way some of the connections panned out only made my stomach hurt, the way your stomach can hurt sometimes for fictional characters that you wish had better endings waiting for them.
Well, here is what I learned about hostage situations from this book:
--It’s essential to have a good translator on hand.
--It’s also good to have wonderful musicians on hand, because they can entertain everyone and unite different people with the common language of music.
--Chess is a good way to pass the time while you’re waiting for your demands to be met.
--Hopefully one of the hostages knows how to cook.
--A priest is also helpful in such situations.
--Use your spare time in captivity to learn foreign languages.
Here is the basic plot: a group of notable people have gathered in an unnamed South American country for a Japanese businessman’s birthday party. The attendees think that the Japanese businessman will build a factory in the town, but the businessman is only interested in the night’s entertainment, which is his favorite opera singer. After she finishes singing, terrorists take the group hostage, and the ordeal lasts for months and months, which gives the characters some time to make unlikely connections. While staying suitably vague, I can only say that the way some of the connections panned out only made my stomach hurt, the way your stomach can hurt sometimes for fictional characters that you wish had better endings waiting for them.
Well, here is what I learned about hostage situations from this book:
--It’s essential to have a good translator on hand.
--It’s also good to have wonderful musicians on hand, because they can entertain everyone and unite different people with the common language of music.
--Chess is a good way to pass the time while you’re waiting for your demands to be met.
--Hopefully one of the hostages knows how to cook.
--A priest is also helpful in such situations.
--Use your spare time in captivity to learn foreign languages.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
$3.25 worth of awesomeness
Tonight I went to a nearby Goodwill because I heard through the grapevine that this particular store location was a good place to pick up quality used books. Well, I only ended up buying one book, but it was a doozy:
It is a book called Molly!!!!!! And here is something freaky: it came out the year I was born. I love the cover of this book more than words can say. I think I am going to keep it on my dresser so that I can style my hair that way.
Now, I admit that I probably would have bought this book for its cover alone, but listen to the intriguing text found on the book jacket:
“Molly” is storytelling at its dramatic best – the fast-paced, engrossing tale of a feisty young Irish girl whose spirit triumphs over poverty and personal tragedy.
Fleeing her fanatical republican family, Molly O’Dowd arrives nearly penniless in London at the end of the nineteenth century. With the aid of a social worker, she escapes the world of East End gambling houses and brothels and invests what little money she has in a typing course – an investment that will lead to the founding of her own employment agency and her establishment as a woman of power and means.
Along the way Molly wins – and then loses in the Boer War – her first love, makes a marriage of convenience, is widowed, and marries again. But her energy and determination never flag, and finally she meets the man who will be her match in business and in love.
From the rough-and-tumble world of the London docks to the luxurious hotels and restaurants of the fashionable West End, “Molly” captures the temper of the times – the unrest of the laboring classes, the courage of the suffragette movement, the ravages of the First World War. And through it all moves one of the most appealing and fully realized heroines in years: the indomitable Molly O’Dowd.
Can you believe that? And that’s just the book jacket!! Who knows how much more plot acclaimed author Teresa Crane stuck into this book?!?! It sounds like that Molly really gets around. Even if I never read this book, the book cover and jacket description make it well worth the $1.25 I spent on it.
Then, even though it seemed like my night couldn’t get any better, I wandered into the dollar store that was next door to the Goodwill. And there, I found some outfits for my bears Barnabas and Chester. For just $2, I was able to outfit an ENTIRE BEAR ARMY. Dressed like this, these bears will CONQUER THE WORLD.
Now, I do think that the material of Barnabas’s outfit is the same kind of material used for those kids’ pajamas that would spontaneously combust. So he might have to sleep out on the couch when he’s wearing his army outfit. But the real find, I think, is Chester’s outfit. While Barnabas is sort of a standard size bear as far as clothing goes, Chester is not. So far he only has an Appalachian State t-shirt to wear. He is petite, yet he has big hips. I’m not exactly sure what other stuffed animals or dolls this army outfit could fit, so I guess the only way to describe it is Chester–size. Though, since the outfit doesn’t have any Velcro, I’m not sure it will ever come off. So Chester Bear, you are in the army for life.
This is Chester trying to comfort fictional Molly, after he heard about her tragic loss in the Boer War:
And that is how you entertain yourself for hours with only $3.25. Plus tax.
It is a book called Molly!!!!!! And here is something freaky: it came out the year I was born. I love the cover of this book more than words can say. I think I am going to keep it on my dresser so that I can style my hair that way.
Now, I admit that I probably would have bought this book for its cover alone, but listen to the intriguing text found on the book jacket:
“Molly” is storytelling at its dramatic best – the fast-paced, engrossing tale of a feisty young Irish girl whose spirit triumphs over poverty and personal tragedy.
Fleeing her fanatical republican family, Molly O’Dowd arrives nearly penniless in London at the end of the nineteenth century. With the aid of a social worker, she escapes the world of East End gambling houses and brothels and invests what little money she has in a typing course – an investment that will lead to the founding of her own employment agency and her establishment as a woman of power and means.
Along the way Molly wins – and then loses in the Boer War – her first love, makes a marriage of convenience, is widowed, and marries again. But her energy and determination never flag, and finally she meets the man who will be her match in business and in love.
From the rough-and-tumble world of the London docks to the luxurious hotels and restaurants of the fashionable West End, “Molly” captures the temper of the times – the unrest of the laboring classes, the courage of the suffragette movement, the ravages of the First World War. And through it all moves one of the most appealing and fully realized heroines in years: the indomitable Molly O’Dowd.
Can you believe that? And that’s just the book jacket!! Who knows how much more plot acclaimed author Teresa Crane stuck into this book?!?! It sounds like that Molly really gets around. Even if I never read this book, the book cover and jacket description make it well worth the $1.25 I spent on it.
Then, even though it seemed like my night couldn’t get any better, I wandered into the dollar store that was next door to the Goodwill. And there, I found some outfits for my bears Barnabas and Chester. For just $2, I was able to outfit an ENTIRE BEAR ARMY. Dressed like this, these bears will CONQUER THE WORLD.
Now, I do think that the material of Barnabas’s outfit is the same kind of material used for those kids’ pajamas that would spontaneously combust. So he might have to sleep out on the couch when he’s wearing his army outfit. But the real find, I think, is Chester’s outfit. While Barnabas is sort of a standard size bear as far as clothing goes, Chester is not. So far he only has an Appalachian State t-shirt to wear. He is petite, yet he has big hips. I’m not exactly sure what other stuffed animals or dolls this army outfit could fit, so I guess the only way to describe it is Chester–size. Though, since the outfit doesn’t have any Velcro, I’m not sure it will ever come off. So Chester Bear, you are in the army for life.
This is Chester trying to comfort fictional Molly, after he heard about her tragic loss in the Boer War:
And that is how you entertain yourself for hours with only $3.25. Plus tax.Sunday, June 7, 2009
for your screensaver consideration
Though my last post is a lot of babble about how tired I am and how the world is going to end and a lot of photos of the weird statues that live in the Atlanta Botanical Garden, I did see some mighty lovely things this morning. Here are the best of my pretty flower photos:
(To be honest, I took a lot of pictures of bluish flowers that I liked better than the red flowers above. But those didn't come out as well. So this picture got a sort of symbolic nod.)
Impossible to capture the color of these beautiful orchids!
I like to think this sign meant, "hey, don't miss that incredibly handsome bronze statue behind you," with hot being a measure of appearance as opposed to temperature. Or I would like it if this sign meant "obey the bronze statues."
(To be honest, I took a lot of pictures of bluish flowers that I liked better than the red flowers above. But those didn't come out as well. So this picture got a sort of symbolic nod.)
Impossible to capture the color of these beautiful orchids!
This next picture doesn't have pretty flower per se, but a funny sign. Right now, there's an exhibition of Henry Moore statues, which necessitates a sign that says "Mind the hot bronze!"
I like to think this sign meant, "hey, don't miss that incredibly handsome bronze statue behind you," with hot being a measure of appearance as opposed to temperature. Or I would like it if this sign meant "obey the bronze statues."
squirrel burgers
I did not sleep very well at all last night. I only got a few hours of sleep, and most of those hours were spent dreaming that the end of the world had come. I guess we were all getting ready to head into some sort of nuclear winter scenario, so everyone was trying to make an end of the world survival bag, which would have some necessities to get us through. I remember I was really focused on trying to get a toothbrush for my survival bag, and then I went to a “Build Your Bag” party sponsored by some celebrities, and the celebrities had nothing useful to offer for the bags. I kept trying to tell them what nuclear winter would actually be like, based on my reading of Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road.” Then, this guy I went to high school with showed up and we decided to go watch a boat race, because what better way to celebrate the end of the world than a boat race with a guy you haven’t seen in nine years? But it was a terribly sad boat race, because everyone was upset about nuclear winter.
As you can tell, I had a pretty rough night, and I woke up very early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Eventually, the sun rose and businesses started opening so I figured it might be nice to go outside and try to calm down a bit. It was also the free museum weekend sponsored by Bank of America, so eventually I ended up at the Atlanta Botanical Garden.
Usually, the garden is crowded, but since I was there so early, there was no one there, I started to get kind of nervous that maybe the world had ended and that I was the only person still alive. For the first hour or so I was there, the only person I saw was literally made of stone! Like the people at Pompeii, she was frozen in time.
Just like this creepy little boy, who I guess spent his last minutes on earth naked and holding frogs.
Everywhere I turned, things had been turned to stone. No humans anywhere.
Well, except for their decapitated heads under trees!
Here was a stone thing I found comforting, though: A frog sitting on a bench pondering the end of the world.
Normally I’m not a fan of holding one’s arm out to take a picture of oneself, but since there was no around, I kinda wanted evidence that I still existed. I went for it:
While I was sitting there, trying to ask the frog about potential food sources, I did spot something living – a squirrel. Good news, everybody, squirrel meat!
But I was still creeped out. WHERE WAS EVERYBODY? Not helping matters, I don’t know a lot about how to take pictures, which means that I probably don’t angle properly in terms of light, which meant that there was this kind of reflection-y glow in my pictures, which made it look like THERE WERE GHOSTS IN THE PICTURES!!!!!!!!!
Luckily, though, I found our new overlords, and they seemed friendly enough.
As you can tell, I had a pretty rough night, and I woke up very early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Eventually, the sun rose and businesses started opening so I figured it might be nice to go outside and try to calm down a bit. It was also the free museum weekend sponsored by Bank of America, so eventually I ended up at the Atlanta Botanical Garden.
Usually, the garden is crowded, but since I was there so early, there was no one there, I started to get kind of nervous that maybe the world had ended and that I was the only person still alive. For the first hour or so I was there, the only person I saw was literally made of stone! Like the people at Pompeii, she was frozen in time.
Just like this creepy little boy, who I guess spent his last minutes on earth naked and holding frogs.
Everywhere I turned, things had been turned to stone. No humans anywhere.
Well, except for their decapitated heads under trees!
Here was a stone thing I found comforting, though: A frog sitting on a bench pondering the end of the world.
Normally I’m not a fan of holding one’s arm out to take a picture of oneself, but since there was no around, I kinda wanted evidence that I still existed. I went for it:
While I was sitting there, trying to ask the frog about potential food sources, I did spot something living – a squirrel. Good news, everybody, squirrel meat!But I was still creeped out. WHERE WAS EVERYBODY? Not helping matters, I don’t know a lot about how to take pictures, which means that I probably don’t angle properly in terms of light, which meant that there was this kind of reflection-y glow in my pictures, which made it look like THERE WERE GHOSTS IN THE PICTURES!!!!!!!!!
Luckily, though, I found our new overlords, and they seemed friendly enough.
Finally, finally, after I walked around for awhile, I started seeing other people walking around. There were a lot of young families, dressed up all preppy and trying to get artsy photos of their children with the flowers and the statues. I felt better about the world immediately. Clearly, everything was still right in this weird world of ours. So I went to the grocery store, bought some eggs, and came home to make a veggie omelet. Hopefully I will get better sleep tonight.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Both sides of an issue: Do mosquito bites confer super powers?
People, I don’t mind telling you that I am COVERED in mosquito bites. COVERED. From what I can gather, the mosquitoes needed my blood so they could break it down into amino acids and lay eggs or something. But what about me? Do I get anything out of the deal?
So I asked myself, “Molly, what would you like to get out of this deal?” And I quickly came to an answer: super powers. So today I pondered this question: What is the likelihood that mosquito bites can confer super powers? My conclusions follow.
Yes—Mosquito bites confer super powers.
--If a spider bite gives Spiderman power, than surely a mosquito bite does something.
--The constant itching clears our mind and forces all distractions out of the way, thus leaving us open for greatness.
--The scary appearance of huge red bumps keeps people, including potential enemies, away.
--Sucking blood is a pretty powerful thing if all these vampires are to be believed.
--Why else would Bill Gates want to get rid of them?
--I’m intrigued by the word “thorax.” (this was more just a thought I had when I was reading the Wikipedia page on mosquitoes.)
--Ready-made costume: mosquito nets?
--Malaria would be a good name for a superhero.
-- Larviciding sounds more ominous than Kryptonite, thus giving the superhero a realistic achilles’ heel
No—There is no way that mosquito bites can confer super powers.
--Too busy itching to really put up a good fight against possible enemies
--An infectious disease is not a super power, Molly.
--Mosquitoes can lay like hundreds of eggs at a time. If they haven’t already banded together to take over the world, they’re probably incapable of doing so, and the probably won’t share their life force with humans.
--Mosquitoes are pretty tiny.
--Nectar = empty calories
--I have not really developed any super powers as of yet.
--The natural predator of mosquitoes is the dragonfly, which is a much better name. If there is any insect that can confer super powers, then it is probably the dragonfly.
So after a good 15 minutes of hard thinking, the tally stands 9 in favor of mosquito bites conferring super powers, with 7 items on the other side. More studies are needed.
So I asked myself, “Molly, what would you like to get out of this deal?” And I quickly came to an answer: super powers. So today I pondered this question: What is the likelihood that mosquito bites can confer super powers? My conclusions follow.
Yes—Mosquito bites confer super powers.
--If a spider bite gives Spiderman power, than surely a mosquito bite does something.
--The constant itching clears our mind and forces all distractions out of the way, thus leaving us open for greatness.
--The scary appearance of huge red bumps keeps people, including potential enemies, away.
--Sucking blood is a pretty powerful thing if all these vampires are to be believed.
--Why else would Bill Gates want to get rid of them?
--I’m intrigued by the word “thorax.” (this was more just a thought I had when I was reading the Wikipedia page on mosquitoes.)
--Ready-made costume: mosquito nets?
--Malaria would be a good name for a superhero.
-- Larviciding sounds more ominous than Kryptonite, thus giving the superhero a realistic achilles’ heel
No—There is no way that mosquito bites can confer super powers.
--Too busy itching to really put up a good fight against possible enemies
--An infectious disease is not a super power, Molly.
--Mosquitoes can lay like hundreds of eggs at a time. If they haven’t already banded together to take over the world, they’re probably incapable of doing so, and the probably won’t share their life force with humans.
--Mosquitoes are pretty tiny.
--Nectar = empty calories
--I have not really developed any super powers as of yet.
--The natural predator of mosquitoes is the dragonfly, which is a much better name. If there is any insect that can confer super powers, then it is probably the dragonfly.
So after a good 15 minutes of hard thinking, the tally stands 9 in favor of mosquito bites conferring super powers, with 7 items on the other side. More studies are needed.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Book #11: Around the Bloc
Here’s a disgusting anecdote to start off this book review: I have some brown and tan candles in my bathroom. Yesterday evening, as they were burning, one of the brownest candles overflowed and wax started leaking everywhere. I didn’t notice for about an hour, which meant there was plenty of time for brown wax to accumulate and make it look like someone living in my apartment had severe bathroom issues. I think it was my fish, Alvin.
I start with this gross anecdote about candle wax because I don’t actually have a whole lot to say about the book I just finished, which was written by Stephanie Elizondo Griest and titled: “Around the Bloc: My Life in Moscow, Beijing, and Havana.” The book covers Griest’s time studying abroad in Moscow, working for a newspaper in Beijing and taking a quickie holiday to Havana. Since they are/were Communist countries, Griest has a nifty little link for tying them all together.
There were some moments when this book was pretty interesting and made me want to pack up a backpack and just get out of town. However, when people in their very early twenties travel the world and write about it, they have the tendency to become annoying very very quickly. Perhaps if I had been a few years younger when I read this book, I would have had more sympathy for all of the writer’s whining about her identity and how she couldn’t witness any revolutions and how people were just not acting like she was expecting them to. It all struck me as very selfish and immature, which is probably what my travel journal would sound like to an outside reader. But hey, I didn’t publish mine, and this girl did. So much of it also felt calculated, because people spoke in incredibly unrealistic profundities all the time and I have the sense that perhaps certain episodes were inflated to serve the author’s sense of who she is/was.
All in all, though, that’s kind of the nature of the beast when you’re abroad at that age, I think. You need things to be amazingly profound and you just think about yourself all the time. I would like to think I was an exception to that rule, though, because when I studied abroad in Italy, I didn’t think about myself all the time. I thought about popes all the time.
Even though I am being kinda negative about this book, I still had a decent enough time reading it. The author did have some interesting experiences and anecdotes even despite all her self-importance. And man oh man, let’s hope this author doesn’t have a Google alert for herself set up! Even though I bitch about travel literature sometimes, it’s still a big weakness of mine, if only for those rare moments in the book that capture the funny and the unexpected of traveling. So if you travel to some interesting places and then plunk your experiences in the travel literature section of the bookstore, I am probably going to get to it at some point or another. For now, though, I gotta go clean up some candle wax.
I start with this gross anecdote about candle wax because I don’t actually have a whole lot to say about the book I just finished, which was written by Stephanie Elizondo Griest and titled: “Around the Bloc: My Life in Moscow, Beijing, and Havana.” The book covers Griest’s time studying abroad in Moscow, working for a newspaper in Beijing and taking a quickie holiday to Havana. Since they are/were Communist countries, Griest has a nifty little link for tying them all together.
There were some moments when this book was pretty interesting and made me want to pack up a backpack and just get out of town. However, when people in their very early twenties travel the world and write about it, they have the tendency to become annoying very very quickly. Perhaps if I had been a few years younger when I read this book, I would have had more sympathy for all of the writer’s whining about her identity and how she couldn’t witness any revolutions and how people were just not acting like she was expecting them to. It all struck me as very selfish and immature, which is probably what my travel journal would sound like to an outside reader. But hey, I didn’t publish mine, and this girl did. So much of it also felt calculated, because people spoke in incredibly unrealistic profundities all the time and I have the sense that perhaps certain episodes were inflated to serve the author’s sense of who she is/was.
All in all, though, that’s kind of the nature of the beast when you’re abroad at that age, I think. You need things to be amazingly profound and you just think about yourself all the time. I would like to think I was an exception to that rule, though, because when I studied abroad in Italy, I didn’t think about myself all the time. I thought about popes all the time.
Even though I am being kinda negative about this book, I still had a decent enough time reading it. The author did have some interesting experiences and anecdotes even despite all her self-importance. And man oh man, let’s hope this author doesn’t have a Google alert for herself set up! Even though I bitch about travel literature sometimes, it’s still a big weakness of mine, if only for those rare moments in the book that capture the funny and the unexpected of traveling. So if you travel to some interesting places and then plunk your experiences in the travel literature section of the bookstore, I am probably going to get to it at some point or another. For now, though, I gotta go clean up some candle wax.
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