Writing from memory is always a pain in the ass. Events get jumbled and twisted, continuity is snarled and blurred in a haze of good cheer, embarrassment, and time, and the whole course of the history being written is changed in the recollection. Still, since I was too lazy or occupied to write down events as they happened in Munich, I’ll have to settle for this solution instead. I’m going to condense the events of the 20th, 21st, and 22nd into one entry. This will cover all of my time in Munich. Then, there will be another entry, probably quite short, covering our day trip to Salzburg on the 23rd, and then a third entry for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day (the 26th of December for Americans and other aliens).
I arrived in Munich about 15 minutes delayed for one reason or another (European train conductors never tell you the reason for any delay, but personally I blame a combination of weather and Italians) to find my family waiting for me in the train station. Their hotel room wasn’t ready, so they had decided to come and wait for me their, which was a good thing because the hotel didn’t have much to speak of in the way of a lobby. We ate a quick lunch at the airport, dining on kebaps. These sandwiches, which have nothing to do with shish-kabob, are the German/Austrian equivalent of a hamburger, and arrived in Europe thanks to the wave of Turkish immigration in the 1990s. A kebap is a sandwich composed of a kaiser roll, or equivalent bun product, stuffed with roasted sliced lamb or turkey, yogurt sauce, onions, lettuce, and tomatoes. It’s not all that good for you, but satisfying in the same way that a McDonald’s hamburger is satisfying (that is, up until about 2 hours after the fact).
We proceeded to the hotel under a threatening sky which was probably the tail end of the snowstorm I had experienced coming out of Austria. Bavaria, the region of Germany where Munich is located, is primarily plains and forests, with a few mountains in the south called the Bavarian Alps. The storm, it seemed, had been trapped by the true Austrian Alps, and so left Munich with rain, damp, and cold. After settling into the room, I, Mom, and Hannah went for a walk to the Munich Christkindlmarkt, which proved hideously overcrowded. We stopped for a few pictures before heading back to the hotel. That night we had dinner with an old colleague of Dad’s, Thomas Pruegl, and his family, who served us one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten: dumplings in beef broth, roast pork and more dumplings (but of a different variety), and cabbage salad. We went home that night tired and stuffed to the gills.
The next morning we breakfasted at the hotel, under the watchful eyes of the breakfast chef/waitress person, a severe woman with an unending flow of sarcasm (in several languages) who soon garnered the nickname of “Frau Harrumph” from me and my sisters. Then it was time for mass at the cathedral, and then for a walk around the city center. The Christkindlmarkt was just starting up when we arrived, so we walked through the Rathaus, the “town hall” of Munich, although it was quite grand and gothic, looking more like a cathedral than anything else. Afterwards (at around 1:30) we embarked for the Alte Pinakothek, one of Munich’s three famous art museums. The Alte Pinakothek (which is mostly untranslatable, but which means something like “Collection of Old Paintings”) houses works from the late Middle Ages through the 18th Century; the Neue Pinakothek (“Collection of New Paintings”) is devoted to the 19th Century, and the Pinakothek der Moderne (“Collection of Paintings of the Modern Artists) has 20th Century works. We only saw the Alte, which houses no particularly famous work, but many minor works by famous painters (Rubens, Dürer, Raphael, and Da Vinci) as well as a particularly expansive collection of 17th and 18th century art, especially from France and the Netherlands.
That took us most of the afternoon, until about 5 o’clock. We then departed to find a restaurant that Dad had read of which served authentic Bavarian food. The search took us well over an hour, as it was quite dark and the restaurant was located in a small square off the beaten path. It was also closed, unsurprisingly, since it was a Sunday (when nearly all shops and stores are closed). We instead went to the Ratskeller, a restaurant in the basement of the Rathaus. While expensive, the food was superb if rather hard to describe. The menu was entirely in German, and contained a lot of Bavarian-dialect terms that I was unfamiliar with. Still, it turned out well, and we dined on plates of sausages, sauerkraut, tiny dumplings in a cheese sauce in Rose’s case, and Wiener Schnitzel (a cut of tender veal, pounded thin and deep fried) in Hannah’s. Stuffed to the gills again, we walked around the Christkindlmarkt for awhile and took a few pictures before returning to the hotel.
The next day a bitterly cold wind blew, rather than the drizzle of the day before. We went to the Toy Museum, which was rather unconventionally housed in an old tower, with each exhibit located in rooms off of the tight circular stairwell. It was an amusing side trip, and certainly nothing like what you’d find in the US. After the Toy Museum, we took a detour to the Asamkirche (officially the Church of St. John Nepomuk, but nicknamed Asam after the two brothers who designed and built it). While small, the church is crammed with every bit of Baroque finery that could fit: painted ceilings and walls, gold and silver ornamentation, and marble statues. Everything on the walls and ceilings that isn’t a painting is gold or silver, and my poor skill with words cannot possibly do it justice. Check out the webalbum for more pictures.
The Asamkirche was followed by a shopping expedition to the Christkindlmarkt, in which Dad tried glühwein for the first time and started a long-running joke which I’m sure will be with our family until the end of time, and in which I made a rather elementary mistake in my German and which lead to subsequent embarrassment (although, like all good mistakes, I don’t think I’m likely to repeat it in the near future). Around 4, we returned to the hotel, cold and somewhat cranky, and didn’t leave the room except for one expedition to the train station to buy some pizza. Then we bedded down for the night, determined to get a good rest for our trip to Salzburg the next day.
Next, on Cage of Monkeys: What happened in Salzburg! Strange Meetings! Long Walks! Tourists! And the Lions Club! Tune in tomorrow, same Monkey Time, same Monkey Channel!
-JA
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Achtung! Achtung! The Cage of Monkeys Christmas Special!
[Author’s Note: This entry was intended to be published on the 24th of December, Christmas Eve. It was not. Those responsible for this delay (the author’s bottle of scotch and his video games) have been sacked. This entry was completed with great expense and at the last minute with new assistance (a bag of coffee beans and hot water). We thank you for your understanding.]
Well, it’s that time of year, again. I hope that everyone who reads this is having a great holiday season, free from St. Stephen’s Day murders and the like. I’m going to be celebrating Christmas in Innsbruck with my family, but first we’re going to be spending time in Munich, Regensburg, and Salzburg. Blog entries for those days (the 21st, 22nd, and 23rd) will follow as I write them, and they’ll probably go up sometime after Christmas. This entry will go up on the 24th if I remember to post it; if not, then it will go up afterwards. Now, seeing as I’m writing this on a train (again. Funny how it seems I can only ever write this blog if I’m on a train or in train station), and there’s nothing really interesting going on (we’re waiting somewhere in the northern foothills of the Alps, delayed by the blizzard that is currently sweeping the land), I though I might beef up this post with a few observations and anecdotes on how Austrians celebrate Christmas.
Firstly, it’s important that you understand that Austria is (I believe) 65% Catholic and around 85% Christian, so there’s none of the American attempts at political correctness. You’ll see no “seasons’s greetings” or “happy holidays” in Innsbruck; rather, the shops will have signs reading “Frohe Weihnachten!” (Merry Christmas, in German), and every city or village has its own Christkindlmarkt (Christ Child Market. More on that later). There’s also no Santas, or elves, or reindeer, or any of that foolishness (explained by the Austrian belief that the Christ Child brings the presents on Christmas Eve). There’s the inevitable consumerism that you can’t escape anywhere that comes with the season: stores in the city’s shopping center have signs for “Das Merry-Xmas-Special” or “Das Christmas-Sale” (in keeping with the tradition of borrowing English words for advertisements, a trend which is inexplicably omnipresent in the German-speaking world).
For Austrians, the Christmas season begins on the Saturday before the first Sunday of Advent, when the Christkindlmarkts open. Every city and village has its own Christkindlmarkt, usually located in the oldest part of town, populated by vendors who are either prepare everything they sell by themselves, or who are representatives of a bigger store (this latter being obviously more present in cities like Innsbruck). Every year they load brown wooden kiosks or booths onto rented trailers and set themselves up in a rented spot. In cities with larger Christkindlmarkts, it looks as though a small village of people living in curiously kitschy houses has suddenly invaded the city.
What’s for sale falls into three different categories (usually): decorations, clothing, and FOOD. This last cannot be understated: the number of food booths at the Innsbruck Christkindlmarkt makes up roughly half the number of total vendors (by my rough estimate). The food is, in Innsbruck’s case, traditional Austrian winter dishes and drinks. There are the meats: all kinds of sausage (bratwürst, krainerwürst, knackwürst, extrawürst made from leftover bits of animal, blutwürst made from reduced blood), speck (a Tirolian term encompassing any kind of meat which is dried, salted, smoked, or any combination of the three), and other less appealing dishes (baked brain, intestines stuffed with speck, bull’s testicles). There are the starches: knödel (the Austrian dumpling, served either in soup or by itself, and coming in a wonderment of varieties, most famously spinach, cheese, and speck); krapfen (the Austrian equivalent of a doughnut, but better); and kirchl (my personal favorite, a puffed pastry shaped like a bowl and topped with sauerkraut, mountain cranberry jam, or powdered sugar). To wash all this down, the vendors will be more than happy to sell you coffee, hot chocolate, punch, beer, wine, prosecco, or glühwein, a cousin of mulled wine made by heating wine in a cauldron with two clove-studded oranges, and then adding sugar, more cloves, cinnamon, tea, and perhaps a dram or two of the local moonshine. Not a drink for the weak-of-stomach!
Once you have stuffed yourself, there’s still another half of the Christkindlmarkt left. Here you can buy scarves, sweaters, hats, and mittens; slippers, jewelry, nativity scenes, and kitsch of all forms. Generally, these items are not as untrustworthy as one might expect, although this benefit comes with a corresponding price hike. Expect expense, but the stuff won’t fall apart on you the minute you leave the city.
After the first Sunday of Advent, the Christkindlmarkt infiltrates all available corners of the city, and Austrians settle down for the feast of St. Nicholas. The mythos surrounding Nicholas is a bit different than it is in America. Rather than being attended by Rupert, his chimney-sweep servant, Nicholaus comes to the cities of Austria attended by a horde of Krampuse. The Krampus is a demon which delivers the naughty boys and girls bundles of sticks on St. Nicholas day, and is one of the things that young Austrian children live in fear of (eat your dinner or the Krampus will get you!) On the 5th of December, there is a great procession from the Church of St. Nicholas in the northern part of Innsbruck to the Cathedral of St. Jacob in the city center. Afterwards, the Krampuse (young men dressed in furry, horned demon suits) run through the city, whacking bemused passers-by and bystanders with bundles of reeds or sticks. The next morning, all the children receive sweets, nuts, and oranges in their shoes (which they leave by their front door the night beforehand), and those few silly people who decided it would be a good idea to hit a Krampus back (guess what? It isn’t) nurse their well-deserved welts. The weekend closest to the feast of St. Nicholas, around 30,000 Italians cram themselves into buses and invade the city and the Christkindlmarkt, while sensible Austrians stay at home.
The Austrian house is much like the American one at Christmas-time. There is a tree (although the Austrians decorate theirs with candles rather than colored light bulbs, and generally don’t have pounds of ornaments decorating every available square inch of branch and needle), and the Austrians also decorate their houses (although their decorations would probably be considered humorless, spartan, and severely lacking in holiday spirit by most Americans. Do not expect to see a light display which requires several African nations to power, or inflatable figures waiting to be popped by a drunk youth with a BB gun). Altogether, I would say that Austrians approach Christmas with a more sensible and definitely more devout frame of mind than we Americans.
On Christmas Eve (known as Heiliger Abend, or Holy Evening), some Austrians go to mass, either around 8 o’clock or at midnight, but most of them go to mass on Christmas day (here called Christtag, Christ Day) after their children have shredded wrapping paper, opened gifts, and wallowed in pure and unadulterated joy for awhile. Most families have a huge dinner at around 1 in the afternoon, replete with roast ducks and geese, as well as other Austrian cuisine (knödel, speck, and so forth). Wine is drunk, food is eaten, and everyone retires to sleep soundly through the night.
Well, my train’s pulling in now. Regardless of whatever faith or non-faith you subscribe to, Dear Reader, I would enjoin you to meditate on this: “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” Merry Christmas everyone!
-JA
Well, it’s that time of year, again. I hope that everyone who reads this is having a great holiday season, free from St. Stephen’s Day murders and the like. I’m going to be celebrating Christmas in Innsbruck with my family, but first we’re going to be spending time in Munich, Regensburg, and Salzburg. Blog entries for those days (the 21st, 22nd, and 23rd) will follow as I write them, and they’ll probably go up sometime after Christmas. This entry will go up on the 24th if I remember to post it; if not, then it will go up afterwards. Now, seeing as I’m writing this on a train (again. Funny how it seems I can only ever write this blog if I’m on a train or in train station), and there’s nothing really interesting going on (we’re waiting somewhere in the northern foothills of the Alps, delayed by the blizzard that is currently sweeping the land), I though I might beef up this post with a few observations and anecdotes on how Austrians celebrate Christmas.
Firstly, it’s important that you understand that Austria is (I believe) 65% Catholic and around 85% Christian, so there’s none of the American attempts at political correctness. You’ll see no “seasons’s greetings” or “happy holidays” in Innsbruck; rather, the shops will have signs reading “Frohe Weihnachten!” (Merry Christmas, in German), and every city or village has its own Christkindlmarkt (Christ Child Market. More on that later). There’s also no Santas, or elves, or reindeer, or any of that foolishness (explained by the Austrian belief that the Christ Child brings the presents on Christmas Eve). There’s the inevitable consumerism that you can’t escape anywhere that comes with the season: stores in the city’s shopping center have signs for “Das Merry-Xmas-Special” or “Das Christmas-Sale” (in keeping with the tradition of borrowing English words for advertisements, a trend which is inexplicably omnipresent in the German-speaking world).
For Austrians, the Christmas season begins on the Saturday before the first Sunday of Advent, when the Christkindlmarkts open. Every city and village has its own Christkindlmarkt, usually located in the oldest part of town, populated by vendors who are either prepare everything they sell by themselves, or who are representatives of a bigger store (this latter being obviously more present in cities like Innsbruck). Every year they load brown wooden kiosks or booths onto rented trailers and set themselves up in a rented spot. In cities with larger Christkindlmarkts, it looks as though a small village of people living in curiously kitschy houses has suddenly invaded the city.
What’s for sale falls into three different categories (usually): decorations, clothing, and FOOD. This last cannot be understated: the number of food booths at the Innsbruck Christkindlmarkt makes up roughly half the number of total vendors (by my rough estimate). The food is, in Innsbruck’s case, traditional Austrian winter dishes and drinks. There are the meats: all kinds of sausage (bratwürst, krainerwürst, knackwürst, extrawürst made from leftover bits of animal, blutwürst made from reduced blood), speck (a Tirolian term encompassing any kind of meat which is dried, salted, smoked, or any combination of the three), and other less appealing dishes (baked brain, intestines stuffed with speck, bull’s testicles). There are the starches: knödel (the Austrian dumpling, served either in soup or by itself, and coming in a wonderment of varieties, most famously spinach, cheese, and speck); krapfen (the Austrian equivalent of a doughnut, but better); and kirchl (my personal favorite, a puffed pastry shaped like a bowl and topped with sauerkraut, mountain cranberry jam, or powdered sugar). To wash all this down, the vendors will be more than happy to sell you coffee, hot chocolate, punch, beer, wine, prosecco, or glühwein, a cousin of mulled wine made by heating wine in a cauldron with two clove-studded oranges, and then adding sugar, more cloves, cinnamon, tea, and perhaps a dram or two of the local moonshine. Not a drink for the weak-of-stomach!
Once you have stuffed yourself, there’s still another half of the Christkindlmarkt left. Here you can buy scarves, sweaters, hats, and mittens; slippers, jewelry, nativity scenes, and kitsch of all forms. Generally, these items are not as untrustworthy as one might expect, although this benefit comes with a corresponding price hike. Expect expense, but the stuff won’t fall apart on you the minute you leave the city.
After the first Sunday of Advent, the Christkindlmarkt infiltrates all available corners of the city, and Austrians settle down for the feast of St. Nicholas. The mythos surrounding Nicholas is a bit different than it is in America. Rather than being attended by Rupert, his chimney-sweep servant, Nicholaus comes to the cities of Austria attended by a horde of Krampuse. The Krampus is a demon which delivers the naughty boys and girls bundles of sticks on St. Nicholas day, and is one of the things that young Austrian children live in fear of (eat your dinner or the Krampus will get you!) On the 5th of December, there is a great procession from the Church of St. Nicholas in the northern part of Innsbruck to the Cathedral of St. Jacob in the city center. Afterwards, the Krampuse (young men dressed in furry, horned demon suits) run through the city, whacking bemused passers-by and bystanders with bundles of reeds or sticks. The next morning, all the children receive sweets, nuts, and oranges in their shoes (which they leave by their front door the night beforehand), and those few silly people who decided it would be a good idea to hit a Krampus back (guess what? It isn’t) nurse their well-deserved welts. The weekend closest to the feast of St. Nicholas, around 30,000 Italians cram themselves into buses and invade the city and the Christkindlmarkt, while sensible Austrians stay at home.
The Austrian house is much like the American one at Christmas-time. There is a tree (although the Austrians decorate theirs with candles rather than colored light bulbs, and generally don’t have pounds of ornaments decorating every available square inch of branch and needle), and the Austrians also decorate their houses (although their decorations would probably be considered humorless, spartan, and severely lacking in holiday spirit by most Americans. Do not expect to see a light display which requires several African nations to power, or inflatable figures waiting to be popped by a drunk youth with a BB gun). Altogether, I would say that Austrians approach Christmas with a more sensible and definitely more devout frame of mind than we Americans.
On Christmas Eve (known as Heiliger Abend, or Holy Evening), some Austrians go to mass, either around 8 o’clock or at midnight, but most of them go to mass on Christmas day (here called Christtag, Christ Day) after their children have shredded wrapping paper, opened gifts, and wallowed in pure and unadulterated joy for awhile. Most families have a huge dinner at around 1 in the afternoon, replete with roast ducks and geese, as well as other Austrian cuisine (knödel, speck, and so forth). Wine is drunk, food is eaten, and everyone retires to sleep soundly through the night.
Well, my train’s pulling in now. Regardless of whatever faith or non-faith you subscribe to, Dear Reader, I would enjoin you to meditate on this: “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” Merry Christmas everyone!
-JA
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Ooohh! Look at me! I'm not dead!
Oi.
Sorry about the absolute lack of updates on the blog. Life has been running its typical interference patterns and what with one thing and another, the blog has kind of fallen by the wayside. That's going to change, I promise. With Thanksgiving break this weekend and no classes on Monday I'll have time to catch up on the stuff that needs doing and publish a couple updates.
If there is anything that you would particularly like to know about Innsbruck or life over here in general, send me an email at jashley1(at)nd(dot)edu.
Until then, check the webalbum out! I recently uploaded a buttload of pictures taken this fall. As ever, the webalbum can be found at http://picasaweb.google.com/zerstorer.von.welten/
-JA
Sorry about the absolute lack of updates on the blog. Life has been running its typical interference patterns and what with one thing and another, the blog has kind of fallen by the wayside. That's going to change, I promise. With Thanksgiving break this weekend and no classes on Monday I'll have time to catch up on the stuff that needs doing and publish a couple updates.
If there is anything that you would particularly like to know about Innsbruck or life over here in general, send me an email at jashley1(at)nd(dot)edu.
Until then, check the webalbum out! I recently uploaded a buttload of pictures taken this fall. As ever, the webalbum can be found at http://picasaweb.google.com/zerstorer.von.welten/
-JA
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Nuremberg
My first train to Nuremberg arrived early for a nice change. Also welcome was my accommodation on board. Being poor I had booked the cheapest seats available. On the train to Düsseldorf, this meant a non-reclining chair in a compartment with two snoring Austrians who had accidentally boarded the wrong train. This time around, though, it was a reclining chair not unlike those employed by dentist, although infinitely more comfortable. My ride lasted five and a half hours, with my train arriving early at Karlsruhe where I had my first connection. My second train lasted a brief 45 minutes, from Karlsruhe to Stuttgart, and my third train two hours from Stuttgart to Nuremberg.
Thus I arrived at Nuremberg at 8:15 this morning (this being, again, the 29th of September), not as tired as I had thought I would be. I hung out in the Nuremberg train station for another two hours before depositing my luggage in a locker and starting my tour.
While Münster had, temperature-wise, ranged from brisk to annoyingly cold, Nuremberg was freezing. I remember seeing frost on the fields as I headed towards Nuremberg on my train, and the weather did not abate once I reached the city.
Nuremberg itself is not especially large, but all of the things that I wanted two see were located within five minutes’ walk of each other. This meant that I spend about 3 hours total seeing and photographing things and about 2 hours sitting on benches and reading. Still, the things that I saw were all excellent, considering the condition in which the city left World War II.. Like Münster, Nuremberg had been pretty badly savaged during the war, and most of the Altstadt was obliterated. However, everything that had been destroyed was rebuilt as it had been before, and there is still a great number of structures on the city’s periphery that survived the bombings. These include the city’s walls, which mostly encircle it, and the Imperial Castle, which is located at the northernmost edge of the Altstadt.
I walked first through the southern half of the city, passing by some of Nuremberg’s famous fountains, such as the Fountain of Virtue and the Carousel of Married Life Fountain. This last is too crazy for words, but I took plenty of pictures so you all can see exactly how strange it was. I crossed the Pegnitz by means of the Executioner’s Way, a covered bridge which lead to an island in the river. This same island used to be the residing-place of the city’s executioner, who by virtue of his employment was deemed unfit to live with the rest of the citizenry.
I crossed the river again to come to the Beethoven Monument, and then took a winding path that followed the city walls. The path eventually lead me to the Imperial Castle by way of Albrecht Dürer’s house. The castle was quite imposing, built from local sandstone. In places, the walls had simply been carved out of the cliffs, interrupting the regular geometry of the wall-blocks with their organic flow. I went up and into the castle courtyard before turning back and walking down the hill toward the Hauptmarkt. The Hauptmarkt is a massive gathering-place for any kind of small business which can occupy tents. I saw everything from paprika to beer steins to vacuum cleaners on sale there. The Hauptmarkt is bordered on the west by the Frauenkirche and on the north by the Sebalduskirche. The Sebalduskirche was very nearly demolished by Allied bombers, but was totally reconstructed within ten years of its destruction. Today the church, like the Paulusdom in Münster, has part of Coventry Cathedral enshrined within; in this case a cross forged from some of the nails used in the construction of the cathedral.
I ended my tour of Nuremberg by crossing the Museumsbrücke before heading back to the train station. My train arrives in two hours now, and I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bed again. Classes start on the 7th of October, and I’m glad of a chance to rest and recover before I tackle the challenge of college in German.
Catch you all on the flip side.
-JA
Thus I arrived at Nuremberg at 8:15 this morning (this being, again, the 29th of September), not as tired as I had thought I would be. I hung out in the Nuremberg train station for another two hours before depositing my luggage in a locker and starting my tour.
While Münster had, temperature-wise, ranged from brisk to annoyingly cold, Nuremberg was freezing. I remember seeing frost on the fields as I headed towards Nuremberg on my train, and the weather did not abate once I reached the city.
Nuremberg itself is not especially large, but all of the things that I wanted two see were located within five minutes’ walk of each other. This meant that I spend about 3 hours total seeing and photographing things and about 2 hours sitting on benches and reading. Still, the things that I saw were all excellent, considering the condition in which the city left World War II.. Like Münster, Nuremberg had been pretty badly savaged during the war, and most of the Altstadt was obliterated. However, everything that had been destroyed was rebuilt as it had been before, and there is still a great number of structures on the city’s periphery that survived the bombings. These include the city’s walls, which mostly encircle it, and the Imperial Castle, which is located at the northernmost edge of the Altstadt.
I walked first through the southern half of the city, passing by some of Nuremberg’s famous fountains, such as the Fountain of Virtue and the Carousel of Married Life Fountain. This last is too crazy for words, but I took plenty of pictures so you all can see exactly how strange it was. I crossed the Pegnitz by means of the Executioner’s Way, a covered bridge which lead to an island in the river. This same island used to be the residing-place of the city’s executioner, who by virtue of his employment was deemed unfit to live with the rest of the citizenry.
I crossed the river again to come to the Beethoven Monument, and then took a winding path that followed the city walls. The path eventually lead me to the Imperial Castle by way of Albrecht Dürer’s house. The castle was quite imposing, built from local sandstone. In places, the walls had simply been carved out of the cliffs, interrupting the regular geometry of the wall-blocks with their organic flow. I went up and into the castle courtyard before turning back and walking down the hill toward the Hauptmarkt. The Hauptmarkt is a massive gathering-place for any kind of small business which can occupy tents. I saw everything from paprika to beer steins to vacuum cleaners on sale there. The Hauptmarkt is bordered on the west by the Frauenkirche and on the north by the Sebalduskirche. The Sebalduskirche was very nearly demolished by Allied bombers, but was totally reconstructed within ten years of its destruction. Today the church, like the Paulusdom in Münster, has part of Coventry Cathedral enshrined within; in this case a cross forged from some of the nails used in the construction of the cathedral.
I ended my tour of Nuremberg by crossing the Museumsbrücke before heading back to the train station. My train arrives in two hours now, and I’m looking forward to sleeping in a bed again. Classes start on the 7th of October, and I’m glad of a chance to rest and recover before I tackle the challenge of college in German.
Catch you all on the flip side.
-JA
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Münster (and Ahaus)
Well my fall break is already winding down, surprising as that sounds. Right now I’m in the Nuremberg train station killing a couple of hours before my train arrives. By 9:45 tonight (the 29th of September, that is) I’ll be back in by dorm in Innsbruck, tired and looking forward to four or five days of unwinding. So it’s time to update my blog with records of my trips.
First off: Münster. I took a long night train to Düsseldorf to meet Dad, with the intention that we would then travel to Münster. Unfortunately, the mighty Deutsche Bahn (the German railway system) failed me. My train was delayed for over two hours, and I almost missed Dad in the airport. But I ran into him just as he was about to leave for Münster, so all’s well that ends well. We arrived in Münster went to our hotel, the Tryp Kongresshotel. While it certainly wasn’t as nice as the Heffterhof in Salzburg, it was by no means incommodious. We napped, then toured the city before having dinner at a local restaurant.
The next day we rose bright and early to go to Metz’s birthday celebration in Ahaus, a tiny city north of Münster. (A note to my readers who aren’t part of my immediate family: Johann Baptist Metz is a venerable and famous German political theologian. Dad wrote his dissertation on Metz way the hell back in the late 80s/early 90s, and the two of them are fast friends. In fact, Dad has recently published a new translation of one of Metz’s works). The trip by car took us about an hour and a half on the way there, and we passed through terrain that would not have looked out of place in Ohio or Indiana: pancake-flat farmland with the occasional forest. The only difference were the wind turbines, which sprout out of the fields like great columnar trees.
The celebration itself (or, as the invitation put it, the “Theological Matinee”) took place in a Wasserschloss, a small Baroque palace surrounded by a moat-like pond. Apparently it was quite the vogue to build these things in northern Germany during the 18th century. This Wasserschloss is now owned by the city of Ahaus and is used as a kind of more stylish convention center.
The “Theological Matinee” opened with a series of speeches by friends of Metz. Naturally, these speeches were rather academic and were entirely in German, meaning that I understood them as much as I can write in Ogham. Each speech was separated from the next by a piece of piano music performed by a Prof. Dr. Tanski of the Mozarteum (the University of Salzburg’s formidable music school). The pieces were quite enjoyable, especially the last which poked fun at every Romantic composer from Beethoven to Strauss.
Afterwards there was an Imbiss, a German term for a quick meal, of stew, bread, pretzels, and dried meet, washed down with water, juice, or beer. Dad was able for the first to try a Radler, a German beverage made half of pilsner and half of lemonade. While by now means as alcoholic as a regular beer, a Radler is wonderfully refreshing on a hot day. I could spring for one now, because the Nuremberg train station is heated to Carroll-Hall levels (i.e., with many fiery furnaces).
After the Imbiss, it was back to Münster, where we had dinner with Metz and some of the guests of the matinee. The dinner, which was held in the Hotel Feldmann in the center of Münster, was also enjoyable, though the conversation was once again in German. My own skills served my a adequately, though I was forced to use English whenever I wanted to get a complicated point across. The food was served in suitably Germanic proportions, and just the appetizer (mashed potatoes, meatloaf, apple slice with topping, and pumpernickel with ham) would have been enough for me. I fear my stomach has contracted in my old age, and that I might no longer be capable of devouring one pizza single-handedly.
The next morning, Dad left and I explored the city for the rest of the day. Münster is fairly new, since most of the city was bombed into oblivion by the Allies during World War II. Thus it doesn’t have anywhere near the concentration of ancient edifices that a city like Salzburg has. Still, the churches are impressive specimens of their kinds (Gothic and late Romanesque), and some of the old buildings still remain.
First off, I visited the Friedensaal, the building in which the Peace of Westphalia was signed, ending the Wars of Religion and creating the Netherlands as a country. It wasn’t much more than a tolerably ancient room, although one of the suits of armor in the foyer possesses a pointed potbelly, the sight of which brought innumerable Monty Python-esque quotes to my mind.
Then I strolled down to the local palace, once the seat of Münster’s ruler and now part of the University of Münster. While the palace is not open to the public, the University’s botanical gardens behind the palace are, and I lost a couple of hours winding among the paths and experimenting with my camera’s “Flower” option.
After that, I returned to the city and walked around, taking pictures or just sitting and reading a book. I went to the shops of both the Picasso Museum and the State Museum of Art and Cultural History. As both Museums required an 11-Euro entry fee, I contented myself with browsing through photograph books and wishing I was awesome.
Later, after Vespers had concluded, I briefly toured the Paulus-Dom and the Lambertikirche. The Lambertikirche, it turns out, has a rather morbid past. During the Wars of Religion in Germany, a group of Anabaptists lead by one Jan van Leiden took over Münster, proclaiming that the Kingdom of God had come and setting up a utopian society. The local lords did not believe that any such kingdom had come, and they besieged Münster and captured it in short order. After executing van Leiden and his two chief supporters, the lords put the bodies in steel cages and suspended them from the spire of the Lambertikirche. The bodies have long since disintegrated, but the cages remain to this day.
By now, night was falling, so I headed back the hotel, collected my luggage and went to the train station. I went to a bookstore and discovered that books in Germany are a lot more expensive than their American counterparts (compare $7.99 to 11.90 Euros). Also, the bookstore didn’t accept my credit card, so most of my available cash went into the book purchases. I withdrew some more from an ATM and bought some pizza for dinner before settling down to a few hours’ wait in the train station.
I’ll leave off this blog post here, but my adventures in Nuremberg will be quickly forthcoming, and I’ll have that post up by the day after tomorrow latest.
Good night, and good luck,
-JA
First off: Münster. I took a long night train to Düsseldorf to meet Dad, with the intention that we would then travel to Münster. Unfortunately, the mighty Deutsche Bahn (the German railway system) failed me. My train was delayed for over two hours, and I almost missed Dad in the airport. But I ran into him just as he was about to leave for Münster, so all’s well that ends well. We arrived in Münster went to our hotel, the Tryp Kongresshotel. While it certainly wasn’t as nice as the Heffterhof in Salzburg, it was by no means incommodious. We napped, then toured the city before having dinner at a local restaurant.
The next day we rose bright and early to go to Metz’s birthday celebration in Ahaus, a tiny city north of Münster. (A note to my readers who aren’t part of my immediate family: Johann Baptist Metz is a venerable and famous German political theologian. Dad wrote his dissertation on Metz way the hell back in the late 80s/early 90s, and the two of them are fast friends. In fact, Dad has recently published a new translation of one of Metz’s works). The trip by car took us about an hour and a half on the way there, and we passed through terrain that would not have looked out of place in Ohio or Indiana: pancake-flat farmland with the occasional forest. The only difference were the wind turbines, which sprout out of the fields like great columnar trees.
The celebration itself (or, as the invitation put it, the “Theological Matinee”) took place in a Wasserschloss, a small Baroque palace surrounded by a moat-like pond. Apparently it was quite the vogue to build these things in northern Germany during the 18th century. This Wasserschloss is now owned by the city of Ahaus and is used as a kind of more stylish convention center.
The “Theological Matinee” opened with a series of speeches by friends of Metz. Naturally, these speeches were rather academic and were entirely in German, meaning that I understood them as much as I can write in Ogham. Each speech was separated from the next by a piece of piano music performed by a Prof. Dr. Tanski of the Mozarteum (the University of Salzburg’s formidable music school). The pieces were quite enjoyable, especially the last which poked fun at every Romantic composer from Beethoven to Strauss.
Afterwards there was an Imbiss, a German term for a quick meal, of stew, bread, pretzels, and dried meet, washed down with water, juice, or beer. Dad was able for the first to try a Radler, a German beverage made half of pilsner and half of lemonade. While by now means as alcoholic as a regular beer, a Radler is wonderfully refreshing on a hot day. I could spring for one now, because the Nuremberg train station is heated to Carroll-Hall levels (i.e., with many fiery furnaces).
After the Imbiss, it was back to Münster, where we had dinner with Metz and some of the guests of the matinee. The dinner, which was held in the Hotel Feldmann in the center of Münster, was also enjoyable, though the conversation was once again in German. My own skills served my a adequately, though I was forced to use English whenever I wanted to get a complicated point across. The food was served in suitably Germanic proportions, and just the appetizer (mashed potatoes, meatloaf, apple slice with topping, and pumpernickel with ham) would have been enough for me. I fear my stomach has contracted in my old age, and that I might no longer be capable of devouring one pizza single-handedly.
The next morning, Dad left and I explored the city for the rest of the day. Münster is fairly new, since most of the city was bombed into oblivion by the Allies during World War II. Thus it doesn’t have anywhere near the concentration of ancient edifices that a city like Salzburg has. Still, the churches are impressive specimens of their kinds (Gothic and late Romanesque), and some of the old buildings still remain.
First off, I visited the Friedensaal, the building in which the Peace of Westphalia was signed, ending the Wars of Religion and creating the Netherlands as a country. It wasn’t much more than a tolerably ancient room, although one of the suits of armor in the foyer possesses a pointed potbelly, the sight of which brought innumerable Monty Python-esque quotes to my mind.
Then I strolled down to the local palace, once the seat of Münster’s ruler and now part of the University of Münster. While the palace is not open to the public, the University’s botanical gardens behind the palace are, and I lost a couple of hours winding among the paths and experimenting with my camera’s “Flower” option.
After that, I returned to the city and walked around, taking pictures or just sitting and reading a book. I went to the shops of both the Picasso Museum and the State Museum of Art and Cultural History. As both Museums required an 11-Euro entry fee, I contented myself with browsing through photograph books and wishing I was awesome.
Later, after Vespers had concluded, I briefly toured the Paulus-Dom and the Lambertikirche. The Lambertikirche, it turns out, has a rather morbid past. During the Wars of Religion in Germany, a group of Anabaptists lead by one Jan van Leiden took over Münster, proclaiming that the Kingdom of God had come and setting up a utopian society. The local lords did not believe that any such kingdom had come, and they besieged Münster and captured it in short order. After executing van Leiden and his two chief supporters, the lords put the bodies in steel cages and suspended them from the spire of the Lambertikirche. The bodies have long since disintegrated, but the cages remain to this day.
By now, night was falling, so I headed back the hotel, collected my luggage and went to the train station. I went to a bookstore and discovered that books in Germany are a lot more expensive than their American counterparts (compare $7.99 to 11.90 Euros). Also, the bookstore didn’t accept my credit card, so most of my available cash went into the book purchases. I withdrew some more from an ATM and bought some pizza for dinner before settling down to a few hours’ wait in the train station.
I’ll leave off this blog post here, but my adventures in Nuremberg will be quickly forthcoming, and I’ll have that post up by the day after tomorrow latest.
Good night, and good luck,
-JA
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Night Train to Münster
Hello friends,
Yesterday (Thursday the 25th of September) I concluded a month of intensive German studies in Salzburg. The classes, which ran from 9 in the morning to 2:30 in the afternoon, crammed a semester-long Goethe Institute German course into less than one month. I passed the course fairly well with an A-, and if I do well in the next German course I will receive the C1 level of competence in German. Thus, I will be able to enroll in UIBK (University of Innsbruck) classes proper, and participate in the full European University experience.
On that same Thursday I left the Heffterhof Hotel in Salzburg and moved to my quarters in the Rössl Studentenwohnheim in Innsbruck, Austria. The dorm is located five minutes’ walk away from the Innsbruck Aldstadt. The rooms are fully furnished, but they don’t support some of the more American amenities such as cable television or ethernet ports. The dorm is currently being upgraded to full wireless capabilities, and these should be online (no pun intended) by October 1. Each floor of Rössl contains around 27 two-person rooms; I live on the fifth floor. Each floor also contains a communal kitchen and dining area, both quite modern with four electric stovetops, two ovens, and four freezer-refrigerator units. As UIBK does not have dining halls in the American sense, I expect to be spending a lot of time in my floor’s kitchen. Fortunately there is a Spar (a cheap grocery store) next door to Rössl.
My schedule is actually quite slow this semester. I will be taking my next level of Geman (Deutsch als Fremdsprache III), as well as my college seminar (“The Age of Reason” about the Enlightenment), a political science course on the history of the EU, and an art history course on European painting. While the courseload is light, UIBK does have a no-skip policy for all of its classes. However, I do expect to have a lot of free time this semester.
Classes will proceed without a break from October 6 until Thanksgiving, which gives me a four-day break (Thursday + Friday + weekend). Then it’s non-stop again until December 17, when classes recess once more for Christmas, resuming on the 1st of January. Fall term officially ends on January 31st.
Now, though, I have my fall break, which lasts from today (Friday the 26th) until October 5. I’m going to spend the first four days in Germany, first in Münster with Dad, and then in Nuremberg for a day. I’m returning late on the night of the 29th to Innsbruck. Afterwards I’m not yet sure how I’ll spend my time. I’ve got a half-idea to go to Vienna for a day as my first visit hardly covered the city (see previous blog posts).
Right now I’m on a train bound for Salzburg, where I’ll change trains for a non-stop overnight train to Düsseldorf, there to meet Dad. I don’t know whether or not I’ll have internet in Münster, although I assume so. If that is the case I’ll put this post up then; if not, then whenever the wireless in Rössl starts functioning.
And so, in the words of Garrison Keillor: “Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.”
-JA
Yesterday (Thursday the 25th of September) I concluded a month of intensive German studies in Salzburg. The classes, which ran from 9 in the morning to 2:30 in the afternoon, crammed a semester-long Goethe Institute German course into less than one month. I passed the course fairly well with an A-, and if I do well in the next German course I will receive the C1 level of competence in German. Thus, I will be able to enroll in UIBK (University of Innsbruck) classes proper, and participate in the full European University experience.
On that same Thursday I left the Heffterhof Hotel in Salzburg and moved to my quarters in the Rössl Studentenwohnheim in Innsbruck, Austria. The dorm is located five minutes’ walk away from the Innsbruck Aldstadt. The rooms are fully furnished, but they don’t support some of the more American amenities such as cable television or ethernet ports. The dorm is currently being upgraded to full wireless capabilities, and these should be online (no pun intended) by October 1. Each floor of Rössl contains around 27 two-person rooms; I live on the fifth floor. Each floor also contains a communal kitchen and dining area, both quite modern with four electric stovetops, two ovens, and four freezer-refrigerator units. As UIBK does not have dining halls in the American sense, I expect to be spending a lot of time in my floor’s kitchen. Fortunately there is a Spar (a cheap grocery store) next door to Rössl.
My schedule is actually quite slow this semester. I will be taking my next level of Geman (Deutsch als Fremdsprache III), as well as my college seminar (“The Age of Reason” about the Enlightenment), a political science course on the history of the EU, and an art history course on European painting. While the courseload is light, UIBK does have a no-skip policy for all of its classes. However, I do expect to have a lot of free time this semester.
Classes will proceed without a break from October 6 until Thanksgiving, which gives me a four-day break (Thursday + Friday + weekend). Then it’s non-stop again until December 17, when classes recess once more for Christmas, resuming on the 1st of January. Fall term officially ends on January 31st.
Now, though, I have my fall break, which lasts from today (Friday the 26th) until October 5. I’m going to spend the first four days in Germany, first in Münster with Dad, and then in Nuremberg for a day. I’m returning late on the night of the 29th to Innsbruck. Afterwards I’m not yet sure how I’ll spend my time. I’ve got a half-idea to go to Vienna for a day as my first visit hardly covered the city (see previous blog posts).
Right now I’m on a train bound for Salzburg, where I’ll change trains for a non-stop overnight train to Düsseldorf, there to meet Dad. I don’t know whether or not I’ll have internet in Münster, although I assume so. If that is the case I’ll put this post up then; if not, then whenever the wireless in Rössl starts functioning.
And so, in the words of Garrison Keillor: “Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.”
-JA
Saturday, September 20, 2008
A Temporal Note
The time and events described in the last four posts might cause some confusion. To set the order straight, I wrote the first post (which covers my first two weeks in Salzburg) on the 13th of September. The second post concerns the events of the 13th of September, and was written on the evening of September 15th. The third post chronicles the 14th and 15th and was also written on the evening of the 15th. The last post concerning my stolen camera was written on the 16th; the event described therein took place on the night of the 15th and morning of the 16th.
-JA
-JA
EXTRA! EXTRA! John's Camera stolen by Hungarian rapscallions!
I hadn’t intended to write a further post, but Hungary has forced my hand.
So now for a bit of yelling.
I woke up this morning and proceeded to pack. During this process I discovered that I had been burgled during the night. The rapscallion(s) had made off with 5000 forints (about 20 Euros), and my camera. And the cameras of everyone else in my room.
So I am now an amateur photographer without a camera and with a firm conviction never to travel east of Germany unless I’m going to Australia. There is no likelihood of the camera being recovered, the Hungarians be adept at spiriting away their ill-gotten gains. If I want a camera in the near future I’m looking at another $300+ purchase.
So that was Hungary. Wet, cold, and permeated with thieves. I don’t think I’ll be coming back ever, and this post comes with a strong recommendation to anyone planning on traveling in a former Eastern Bloc country: don’t. Unless you enjoy replacing your valuables.
-JA
Update: thank you, dad. Dad will be bringing my new camera with him to Germany, and I'll get it on the 26th.
So now for a bit of yelling.
I woke up this morning and proceeded to pack. During this process I discovered that I had been burgled during the night. The rapscallion(s) had made off with 5000 forints (about 20 Euros), and my camera. And the cameras of everyone else in my room.
So I am now an amateur photographer without a camera and with a firm conviction never to travel east of Germany unless I’m going to Australia. There is no likelihood of the camera being recovered, the Hungarians be adept at spiriting away their ill-gotten gains. If I want a camera in the near future I’m looking at another $300+ purchase.
So that was Hungary. Wet, cold, and permeated with thieves. I don’t think I’ll be coming back ever, and this post comes with a strong recommendation to anyone planning on traveling in a former Eastern Bloc country: don’t. Unless you enjoy replacing your valuables.
-JA
Update: thank you, dad. Dad will be bringing my new camera with him to Germany, and I'll get it on the 26th.
Tour of Budapest
We boarded the train to Budapest on a cold, almost wintry morning in Vienna. The weather didn’t improve during our trip, and the train we took was decidedly older than that which we had been transported in from Salzburg to Vienna. The first car we boarded looked as though it had been built in the 1960s. About five minutes before the train left we were informed that we had to move up from our car (which was at the end of the train) to another car (which was at the front of the train). We were told that the car we had boarded was in fact going to be left in Vienna. The new car looked and felt as though it had been build perhaps two decades after the other one, but it was still nothing like the Austrian train from Salzburg to Vienna.
When we arrived in Budapest, we took a bus tour of the city. I didn’t really enjoy it, especially having come so recently from Vienna. If I were to compare the cities (and I will), I would say that Budapest is at least fifty years behind Vienna in terms of development. A lot of the buildings had a look of fading grandeur about them, accentuated by ever-present graffiti, peeling paint, and occasional bullet holes left over from the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. This, coupled with the less-than pleasant weather of overcast skies and biting wind meant that I was less than pleased with Budapest.
Anyway, our tour took us up to an old Hapsburg fortress on the top of a hill overlooking the Buda part of the city. It was constructed by the Hapsburgs after the Hungarians attempted another revolution. In World War Two it was used by the German Wehrmacht as an anti-aircraft battery against the advancing Red Army. The Russians erected a monument to their success there after the German surrender. The monument is today known as the “Liberty Statue” and now officially commemorates Hungary’s independence from the Soviet Union.
From the hill we traveled down into the Pest part of Budapest. There we went through some of the major historic areas before ending up at the Cathedral of Saint Steven, named after the first king of Hungary. We toured through the church and were able to see the supposed Holy Right Hand of Saint Steven in the cathedral’s reliquary.
From the Cathedral we went up to the Palace Hill, which contains the fortress built after the Mongol invasions and then the Renaissance palace which was built over that fortress in the 15th century. I had coffee at a café in the lee of another church, and then set off with the rest of the group out of Budapest and toward the village of Piliscscaba, which was adjacent to our accommodations at the Pázmány Péter Catholic University.
The University was founded in the 19th century, but was taken over by the Russians after World War Two and used as a military college. Some of the buildings from that period are still there, from the gymnasium (which is still in used), to the tank garage covered in Russian graffiti and vines. The University was refounded in the 1990s and many of the buildings were replaced. I stayed in the Catherineum, a dormitory which I actually quite like.
After arriving tired, hungry, and rather out-of-sorts, we had dinner in the basement of the Stephaneum, one of the University’s main buildings. The food was cooked by a local family from the village of Piliscsaba, and like all Slavic dinners it began with shots of the local liquor. In this case it was a kind of whisky distilled from who-knows-what that packed quite a kick. The food for the evening was a pork goulash, meatballs wrapped in cabbage, and a cabbage and sour cream salad.
The high point of Sunday (for our first day in Hungary was a Sunday) was the dancing and music after dinner. Four of the university students formed a quartet of violin, viola, double bass, and hurdy-gurdy, and they were joined by a pair of Hungarians who proceeded to teach us various kinds of Hungarian folk dancing. We all enjoyed this immensely, although one dance was more than enough to tucker me out for the evening. We went to bed exhausted but pleased, looking forward to the next day.
The next day, however, was not out to fulfill an iota of our expectations. As I write this in my room in the Catherineum, I can still hear the rain that has not let up since I arose this morning. Breakfast we had in a cafeteria in the Stephaneum, and here I must diverge to make a note upon the Hungarian economy.
Can you name the Hungarian currency?
Without using Wikipedia?
Just off the top of your head?
A clue: it is not the Euro.
No?
Well, if you could name the currency off the top of your head then you are a far cleverer person than I and I respect you for it. I certainly couldn’t name the currency when I arrived in Budapest. Like the blinkered, prejudiced American that I am, I thought that since Hungary was in the EU, it used the Euro. Right?
Wrong.
Although Hungary is in the EU, it does not meet the EU’s economic standards for the use of the Euro. Known as the Maasricht Criteria, these state that:
A country’s currency must have a currency to euro rate of plus or minus 15% for 2 years
The country’s budget deficit must be no more than 3% and its state debt no more than 60% for two years
Now, Hungary’s currency (which is incidentally called the forint) is wildly inflated, with the current exchange rate being one Euro to about 240 forints. Thus, it isn’t until at least 2013 that Hungary can have a hope of adopting the Euro.
So I withdrew from an ATM this morning (Monday morning, that is) 5000 forints, which is equivalent to about 20 Euros. Now I still have about 2000 forints, and I’ve no idea what to do with them. Maybe I’ll tape them to my laptop as a decoration or something. I’m open to suggestions.
So I trudged through the rain to breakfast, through the rain to the ATM and back, and through the rain for my tour of the campus (which was cut short due to the rain). After the truncated tour we attended a lecture (in English) about the Hungarian economy where I learned the information I’ve written above. After the lecture it was on to the University’s train station for our trip to Esztergom, a small city on the border of Hungary and Slovakia.
Esztergom was small, crowded, and somewhat poor. We went by bus to the Basilica, which was built in the 19th century in the same general style as St. Stephan’s Cathedral in Budapest. We toured the cathedral, glad to be out of the rain which had pursued us from the university and had by now reached the “pouring” stage.
Part of our tour included a visit to the catheral’s treasury, which contained a slew of relics, ecclesiastical garb, and various liturgical implements fashioned from large quantities of gold and gems. Unfortunately, photography was forbidden except for the relic chamber, so I haven’t any pictures of the treasury proper for you.
Afterwards it was a group photo in front of the cathedral, and then a walk over the Danube and into Slovakia for lunch. This was perhaps the most miserable part, as the rain and wind intensified and my coat, which had by now proved its worth ten times over, began to reach the saturation point.
After a very cheap lunch (60 Slovakian whatevers = 5.8 Euros for drink and entree) we walked back to the train station. Although the rain had lessened a good deal during lunch, the temperature began to drop as the sun set. This coupled with clothing wet from out previous dousings meant that it was hard to tell whether the weather had improved at all or just changed tactics. Oh, and we missed the train, which meant an hour’s wait for the next one.
So that concludes my adventure in Hungary. We leave Budapest Keleti station at 1pm and settle in for a 6-hour train back to Salzburg. Overall, I didn’t like Budapest nearly as much as I did Vienna, but at least the trip’s over and I can start planning my next outing to the Austrian capitol, this one to make up for the scant time I spent this time around.
My schedule’s going to be pretty packed until we finish up in Salzburg on the 24th of September. I’ve got class on Saturday (the 20th) to make up for lost time, but Sunday the 21st is free. Most of the class are training up to Munich for Oktoberfest, but I intend to spend the day in a considerably more peaceful manner, wandering the Aldstadt of Salzburg and practicing photography. Then we leave Salzburg on the morning of the 25th, and I take a night train at 9:30 that same day to meet Dad in Düsseldorf for the start of my ten day’s break.
Until next time,
-JA
When we arrived in Budapest, we took a bus tour of the city. I didn’t really enjoy it, especially having come so recently from Vienna. If I were to compare the cities (and I will), I would say that Budapest is at least fifty years behind Vienna in terms of development. A lot of the buildings had a look of fading grandeur about them, accentuated by ever-present graffiti, peeling paint, and occasional bullet holes left over from the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. This, coupled with the less-than pleasant weather of overcast skies and biting wind meant that I was less than pleased with Budapest.
Anyway, our tour took us up to an old Hapsburg fortress on the top of a hill overlooking the Buda part of the city. It was constructed by the Hapsburgs after the Hungarians attempted another revolution. In World War Two it was used by the German Wehrmacht as an anti-aircraft battery against the advancing Red Army. The Russians erected a monument to their success there after the German surrender. The monument is today known as the “Liberty Statue” and now officially commemorates Hungary’s independence from the Soviet Union.
From the hill we traveled down into the Pest part of Budapest. There we went through some of the major historic areas before ending up at the Cathedral of Saint Steven, named after the first king of Hungary. We toured through the church and were able to see the supposed Holy Right Hand of Saint Steven in the cathedral’s reliquary.
From the Cathedral we went up to the Palace Hill, which contains the fortress built after the Mongol invasions and then the Renaissance palace which was built over that fortress in the 15th century. I had coffee at a café in the lee of another church, and then set off with the rest of the group out of Budapest and toward the village of Piliscscaba, which was adjacent to our accommodations at the Pázmány Péter Catholic University.
The University was founded in the 19th century, but was taken over by the Russians after World War Two and used as a military college. Some of the buildings from that period are still there, from the gymnasium (which is still in used), to the tank garage covered in Russian graffiti and vines. The University was refounded in the 1990s and many of the buildings were replaced. I stayed in the Catherineum, a dormitory which I actually quite like.
After arriving tired, hungry, and rather out-of-sorts, we had dinner in the basement of the Stephaneum, one of the University’s main buildings. The food was cooked by a local family from the village of Piliscsaba, and like all Slavic dinners it began with shots of the local liquor. In this case it was a kind of whisky distilled from who-knows-what that packed quite a kick. The food for the evening was a pork goulash, meatballs wrapped in cabbage, and a cabbage and sour cream salad.
The high point of Sunday (for our first day in Hungary was a Sunday) was the dancing and music after dinner. Four of the university students formed a quartet of violin, viola, double bass, and hurdy-gurdy, and they were joined by a pair of Hungarians who proceeded to teach us various kinds of Hungarian folk dancing. We all enjoyed this immensely, although one dance was more than enough to tucker me out for the evening. We went to bed exhausted but pleased, looking forward to the next day.
The next day, however, was not out to fulfill an iota of our expectations. As I write this in my room in the Catherineum, I can still hear the rain that has not let up since I arose this morning. Breakfast we had in a cafeteria in the Stephaneum, and here I must diverge to make a note upon the Hungarian economy.
Can you name the Hungarian currency?
Without using Wikipedia?
Just off the top of your head?
A clue: it is not the Euro.
No?
Well, if you could name the currency off the top of your head then you are a far cleverer person than I and I respect you for it. I certainly couldn’t name the currency when I arrived in Budapest. Like the blinkered, prejudiced American that I am, I thought that since Hungary was in the EU, it used the Euro. Right?
Wrong.
Although Hungary is in the EU, it does not meet the EU’s economic standards for the use of the Euro. Known as the Maasricht Criteria, these state that:
A country’s currency must have a currency to euro rate of plus or minus 15% for 2 years
The country’s budget deficit must be no more than 3% and its state debt no more than 60% for two years
Now, Hungary’s currency (which is incidentally called the forint) is wildly inflated, with the current exchange rate being one Euro to about 240 forints. Thus, it isn’t until at least 2013 that Hungary can have a hope of adopting the Euro.
So I withdrew from an ATM this morning (Monday morning, that is) 5000 forints, which is equivalent to about 20 Euros. Now I still have about 2000 forints, and I’ve no idea what to do with them. Maybe I’ll tape them to my laptop as a decoration or something. I’m open to suggestions.
So I trudged through the rain to breakfast, through the rain to the ATM and back, and through the rain for my tour of the campus (which was cut short due to the rain). After the truncated tour we attended a lecture (in English) about the Hungarian economy where I learned the information I’ve written above. After the lecture it was on to the University’s train station for our trip to Esztergom, a small city on the border of Hungary and Slovakia.
Esztergom was small, crowded, and somewhat poor. We went by bus to the Basilica, which was built in the 19th century in the same general style as St. Stephan’s Cathedral in Budapest. We toured the cathedral, glad to be out of the rain which had pursued us from the university and had by now reached the “pouring” stage.
Part of our tour included a visit to the catheral’s treasury, which contained a slew of relics, ecclesiastical garb, and various liturgical implements fashioned from large quantities of gold and gems. Unfortunately, photography was forbidden except for the relic chamber, so I haven’t any pictures of the treasury proper for you.
Afterwards it was a group photo in front of the cathedral, and then a walk over the Danube and into Slovakia for lunch. This was perhaps the most miserable part, as the rain and wind intensified and my coat, which had by now proved its worth ten times over, began to reach the saturation point.
After a very cheap lunch (60 Slovakian whatevers = 5.8 Euros for drink and entree) we walked back to the train station. Although the rain had lessened a good deal during lunch, the temperature began to drop as the sun set. This coupled with clothing wet from out previous dousings meant that it was hard to tell whether the weather had improved at all or just changed tactics. Oh, and we missed the train, which meant an hour’s wait for the next one.
So that concludes my adventure in Hungary. We leave Budapest Keleti station at 1pm and settle in for a 6-hour train back to Salzburg. Overall, I didn’t like Budapest nearly as much as I did Vienna, but at least the trip’s over and I can start planning my next outing to the Austrian capitol, this one to make up for the scant time I spent this time around.
My schedule’s going to be pretty packed until we finish up in Salzburg on the 24th of September. I’ve got class on Saturday (the 20th) to make up for lost time, but Sunday the 21st is free. Most of the class are training up to Munich for Oktoberfest, but I intend to spend the day in a considerably more peaceful manner, wandering the Aldstadt of Salzburg and practicing photography. Then we leave Salzburg on the morning of the 25th, and I take a night train at 9:30 that same day to meet Dad in Düsseldorf for the start of my ten day’s break.
Until next time,
-JA
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The Day in Vienna
So the first leg of our trip is over and done with, sadly enough. I’m writing this post from a location that will be disclosed in the next blog entry, and also with benefit of a couple days’ hindsight. Vienna was by far the best part of the trip.
We arrived around one in the afternoon in the Vienna Westbahnhof, which by the time I post this entry will no longer exist, having been shut down on the 15th of September. We then proceeded by U-Bahn and bus to our accommodations: a youth hostel located on Neustiftgasse, about 30 minutes’ walk from the city center. The hostel was, I have been informed, one of the better examples of its kind, and I have to say that I found our lodgings there quite nice, if rather spartan. All of the guys were in one room which while somewhat narrow had its own shower and toilet. Breakfast was also included, and it was again nice if simple.
After depositing our luggage we traveled by bus into the center of Vienna, the Karl Renner Ring. There we began our tour of Vienna guided by Herr Gürtler. First stop was in front of the Parliament Building, then the Rathaus (“city hall,” literally “advice house”), before proceeding up to the Hofburgtheater. After that we walked through the Volksgarten to a plaza which contained on the left the Imperial Hapsburg Palace and directly in front the jaw-dropping spectacle of the Imperial Library, which is the most impressive building I’ve ever seen.
From there we proceeded to the Opera House, passing by a statue of Goethe where we took a group picture. From the Opera House we went around to the Michaelerplatz, which is at the rear of the Imperial Palace and contains some excavated Roman ruins and the prestigious Spanish Riding School. After that it was on to Stephansplatz, named after Stephansdom, the Cathedral of St. Stephan.
Then our tour ended, and me and a few others had cake at the Café Aida off of Stephansplatz, followed by an hour of wandering. Along the way we saw a chalk artist working on his rendition of Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus and a wizened old man preaching the virtues of marijuana.
Afterwards we dined in a nice little Austrian restaurant off the beaten path before returning to the hostel to sleep and get ready for the next part of our journey.
Now, I really liked Vienna. The city is beautiful, though not quite as awesome in my eye as Salzburg or any older city. My only regret is that we spent under 20 hours in the city itself, and I would have preferred to stay at least another day if not two. The weather for our brief period could not have been better. Saturday was crisp, pleasant, and a bit windy; the perfect fall day. During our tour my overcoat weighed a bit heavily on me, and a few times I regretted choosing it for my journey. Fortunately the night was cold enough to make up for the heat of the day, and the weather in Hungary... Well, I’ll get to that in the next post.
-JA
We arrived around one in the afternoon in the Vienna Westbahnhof, which by the time I post this entry will no longer exist, having been shut down on the 15th of September. We then proceeded by U-Bahn and bus to our accommodations: a youth hostel located on Neustiftgasse, about 30 minutes’ walk from the city center. The hostel was, I have been informed, one of the better examples of its kind, and I have to say that I found our lodgings there quite nice, if rather spartan. All of the guys were in one room which while somewhat narrow had its own shower and toilet. Breakfast was also included, and it was again nice if simple.
After depositing our luggage we traveled by bus into the center of Vienna, the Karl Renner Ring. There we began our tour of Vienna guided by Herr Gürtler. First stop was in front of the Parliament Building, then the Rathaus (“city hall,” literally “advice house”), before proceeding up to the Hofburgtheater. After that we walked through the Volksgarten to a plaza which contained on the left the Imperial Hapsburg Palace and directly in front the jaw-dropping spectacle of the Imperial Library, which is the most impressive building I’ve ever seen.
From there we proceeded to the Opera House, passing by a statue of Goethe where we took a group picture. From the Opera House we went around to the Michaelerplatz, which is at the rear of the Imperial Palace and contains some excavated Roman ruins and the prestigious Spanish Riding School. After that it was on to Stephansplatz, named after Stephansdom, the Cathedral of St. Stephan.
Then our tour ended, and me and a few others had cake at the Café Aida off of Stephansplatz, followed by an hour of wandering. Along the way we saw a chalk artist working on his rendition of Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus and a wizened old man preaching the virtues of marijuana.
Afterwards we dined in a nice little Austrian restaurant off the beaten path before returning to the hostel to sleep and get ready for the next part of our journey.
Now, I really liked Vienna. The city is beautiful, though not quite as awesome in my eye as Salzburg or any older city. My only regret is that we spent under 20 hours in the city itself, and I would have preferred to stay at least another day if not two. The weather for our brief period could not have been better. Saturday was crisp, pleasant, and a bit windy; the perfect fall day. During our tour my overcoat weighed a bit heavily on me, and a few times I regretted choosing it for my journey. Fortunately the night was cold enough to make up for the heat of the day, and the weather in Hungary... Well, I’ll get to that in the next post.
-JA
An Apologetic Update
Hello everyone,
I’m sorry that I’ve been so lax with regard to this blog. The last couple weeks have been hectic as all hell, and what with classes and internet issues and living in a foreign country, the blog just slipped my mind.
We arrived just fine way the hell back on the 29th of August at the Innsbruck airport, which is located at the foot of a mountain. The entire flight was excellent, and comprises my first adventure in aerial photography. We took a chartered bus from Innsbruck to Salzburg and arrived at our hotel exhausted and jet-lagged. The next day, Saturday the 30th was filled with wandering around the Aldstadt (“old city” in German) and learning some history and useful facts. Pictures are, of course, up on the webalbum.
Classes started on Monday the 1st of September with a placement test. Fortunately I placed in to the DaF II (“Deutsch als Fremdsprache”, German as a foreign language) class, and, if all goes well, by the end of January I will have the appropriate level of German to take a class at the University of Innsbruck. Class is from 9am to 3:30pm, with a 15-minute break from 10:30-10:45 and a lunch break from 12:15 to 2pm.
Speaking of lunch, the Hotel Heffterhof’s cuisine lives up to its 4-star rating. We have breakfast and lunch free, courtesy of ND, and that’s all you really need. The food is, for the most part, Central European, with staples like Nutella and potato salad readily available. For dinner we have to fend of ourselves, but 7 Euros will buy enough bread, cheese, and cold cuts to make a month of sandwiches. On the weekends there are a number of cheap restaurants available, or you can simple steal food from the breakfast buffet.
Salzburg itself is an excellent city. I could (and have) wander around the city for hours on end taking pictures. Everywhere you go the Festung is not far from sight. The Festung (“fortress”) is Salzburg’s medieval castle, which is perched on top of a small mountain, overwatching the city in all its ancient and brooding glory. The oldest parts of the castle date from the 10th century, and the newest from around the 15th. It has never fallen, despite being besieged for years on end at times.
The city also contains a multiplicity of churches from small chapels perched on mountainsides to the hulking Romanesque Salzburger Dom, the city’s cathedral, which dates from the 17th century. The inside of the church is correspondingly ornate, with a massive painted altar-piece festooned with gilt marble and wood galore. The church’s choir is similarly beautiful. They regularly perform Mozart’s liturgical works, and I was lucky enough to hear them perform Mozart’s “Kronungsmesse” a week ago.
Mozart is, of course, an integral part of Salzburger culture. Both the house where he was born and the one where he lived are open as museums, and a massive bronze statue of him stands in the aptly-named Mozartplatz in the center of the Aldstadt. Street musicians freely perform Mozart’s works adapted for everything from guitar to grand piano, and Mozart’s likeness adorns everything from candy to alcohol.
And I would be remiss if I did not mention the beer. Salzburg has a swarm of breweries about it, each as ancient as the city and each possessed of a unique recipe for its particular brew. Some, such as the Stieglkeller, are built into the monastery. Others occupy their own unique parts of the city. A good example of this is the Augustinerbräu, which occupies a former monastery. The entrance is a small postern door in a wall opposite a Franciscan church, but the brewery proper is huge, comprising multiple halls, scads of kiosks offering wurst, pretzels, and even spare ribs, and the biergarten, which is built on a terrace which has been covered in enough soil to support the growth of healthily-sized oaks. The garten overlooks the river Salz, and is an experience not to be missed. The beer itself is dispensed from oaken barrels which are tapped by hand with large wooden mallets.
As I write this, I’m on a train bound east for Vienna. The entire group is taking a four-day trip to Vienna, and then to Budapest. We’ll be spending all of today (Saturday the 13th) in Vienna, and Sunday and Monday in Budapest before returning on Tuesday. This post will probably go up sometime tonight if I can find Internet. If not, it will go up Tuesday evening when I get back to the Heffterhof at about 7:30 Salzburg time, or perhaps Wednesday if I'm feeling lazy. I’ll also be keeping a record of Vienna and Budapest, which I’ll turn into a post on the way back to Salzburg.
-JA
I’m sorry that I’ve been so lax with regard to this blog. The last couple weeks have been hectic as all hell, and what with classes and internet issues and living in a foreign country, the blog just slipped my mind.
We arrived just fine way the hell back on the 29th of August at the Innsbruck airport, which is located at the foot of a mountain. The entire flight was excellent, and comprises my first adventure in aerial photography. We took a chartered bus from Innsbruck to Salzburg and arrived at our hotel exhausted and jet-lagged. The next day, Saturday the 30th was filled with wandering around the Aldstadt (“old city” in German) and learning some history and useful facts. Pictures are, of course, up on the webalbum.
Classes started on Monday the 1st of September with a placement test. Fortunately I placed in to the DaF II (“Deutsch als Fremdsprache”, German as a foreign language) class, and, if all goes well, by the end of January I will have the appropriate level of German to take a class at the University of Innsbruck. Class is from 9am to 3:30pm, with a 15-minute break from 10:30-10:45 and a lunch break from 12:15 to 2pm.
Speaking of lunch, the Hotel Heffterhof’s cuisine lives up to its 4-star rating. We have breakfast and lunch free, courtesy of ND, and that’s all you really need. The food is, for the most part, Central European, with staples like Nutella and potato salad readily available. For dinner we have to fend of ourselves, but 7 Euros will buy enough bread, cheese, and cold cuts to make a month of sandwiches. On the weekends there are a number of cheap restaurants available, or you can simple steal food from the breakfast buffet.
Salzburg itself is an excellent city. I could (and have) wander around the city for hours on end taking pictures. Everywhere you go the Festung is not far from sight. The Festung (“fortress”) is Salzburg’s medieval castle, which is perched on top of a small mountain, overwatching the city in all its ancient and brooding glory. The oldest parts of the castle date from the 10th century, and the newest from around the 15th. It has never fallen, despite being besieged for years on end at times.
The city also contains a multiplicity of churches from small chapels perched on mountainsides to the hulking Romanesque Salzburger Dom, the city’s cathedral, which dates from the 17th century. The inside of the church is correspondingly ornate, with a massive painted altar-piece festooned with gilt marble and wood galore. The church’s choir is similarly beautiful. They regularly perform Mozart’s liturgical works, and I was lucky enough to hear them perform Mozart’s “Kronungsmesse” a week ago.
Mozart is, of course, an integral part of Salzburger culture. Both the house where he was born and the one where he lived are open as museums, and a massive bronze statue of him stands in the aptly-named Mozartplatz in the center of the Aldstadt. Street musicians freely perform Mozart’s works adapted for everything from guitar to grand piano, and Mozart’s likeness adorns everything from candy to alcohol.
And I would be remiss if I did not mention the beer. Salzburg has a swarm of breweries about it, each as ancient as the city and each possessed of a unique recipe for its particular brew. Some, such as the Stieglkeller, are built into the monastery. Others occupy their own unique parts of the city. A good example of this is the Augustinerbräu, which occupies a former monastery. The entrance is a small postern door in a wall opposite a Franciscan church, but the brewery proper is huge, comprising multiple halls, scads of kiosks offering wurst, pretzels, and even spare ribs, and the biergarten, which is built on a terrace which has been covered in enough soil to support the growth of healthily-sized oaks. The garten overlooks the river Salz, and is an experience not to be missed. The beer itself is dispensed from oaken barrels which are tapped by hand with large wooden mallets.
As I write this, I’m on a train bound east for Vienna. The entire group is taking a four-day trip to Vienna, and then to Budapest. We’ll be spending all of today (Saturday the 13th) in Vienna, and Sunday and Monday in Budapest before returning on Tuesday. This post will probably go up sometime tonight if I can find Internet. If not, it will go up Tuesday evening when I get back to the Heffterhof at about 7:30 Salzburg time, or perhaps Wednesday if I'm feeling lazy. I’ll also be keeping a record of Vienna and Budapest, which I’ll turn into a post on the way back to Salzburg.
-JA
Monday, August 18, 2008
UPDATE: In which I break my computer
So today I tripped and fell, breaking my headphone port and leaving it to roll around inside my laptop's casing. My computer, thus injured, is without sound, and destined for a trip to a Dell Depot sometime in the next two days. The big problem with this state of affairs: the computer will still be in the shop when I leave for Austria. Until I get it back I'll be using an old laptop which was mine in high school.
This catastrophe ought not to impair updates on my Study Abroad experience. I'm still leaving in ten days, and the hairy process of packing has reached a goodly pitch of chaos and panic.
-JA
This catastrophe ought not to impair updates on my Study Abroad experience. I'm still leaving in ten days, and the hairy process of packing has reached a goodly pitch of chaos and panic.
-JA
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
World of Warcraft: First Impressions
About two weeks ago I installed on of my free World of Warcraft trials and began my adventure into a game that has 10 million subscribers and is probably the most famous RPG of all time, perhaps even the most famous computer game. Now, time is running out and I have about 2 days left on my account before I have to pay or leave. So, these are my thoughts on WoW. I’m not going to give it a scientific review, just record my impressions. Firstly, I like this game. A lot. Secondly, I hate this game. A lot.
Part of this schizophrenic relationship has to do with the great limitation of a trial account: you aren’t allowed to invite people to join you on your questing. This means that you either have to find a group of people interested in doing the same thing you are doing (and good luck with that at lower levels) or you have to fly solo.
Flying solo is itself a schizophrenic experience, since the difficult curve scales in a punishingly steep manner. As you start out, you cruise through minor enemies and monsters like you’re eating a sandwich, but the moment you leave the secluded vale where you start and enter the “real world,” the game steals your sandwich and replaces it with a muffin stuffed with rusty nails. You have to play really, really carefully to avoid being eaten by mobs of enemies who descend from every corner of the map. Worst, the quests you receive give you absolutely no clue about how hard they will be to complete.
Another annoying thing about WoW is the time investment required. You can’t travel really fast at all until you reach level 30 (a goal completely out of the range of any trial account), which mean you spend the bulk of your time running around the same bloody forest looking for your quests. And if you should die you have to run all the way back to where you fell, and the respawn sites are located around populated areas, which means that they are far away from your corpse, so you spend five minutes running around as a ghost before you can resume the action.
Now, all of these flaws aside, I do like World of Warcraft as an RPG. It is quite well designed, as you would expect from Blizzard. The game feels like it has been specifically crafted to hook people, as it gives yo the constant feeling that if you only stick with it for a few more days your character will become the most powerful person in the land. It has good graphics, and implements quotidian things like eating and drinking in an innovative way. If it were only more forgiving on low-level players, I might be tempted to name it one of the best-designed RPGs ever made.
However, the time requirements are ultimately what turns me off. I play games in cycles, where I play one or two games for a couple months, then move on to another game in my collection. Also, I try not to play for more than a couple hours a day. World of Warcraft is not designed for such a casual attitude towards gaming. It demands that you spend lots of time with it, and it punishes casualness with difficulty in every aspect.
Part of this schizophrenic relationship has to do with the great limitation of a trial account: you aren’t allowed to invite people to join you on your questing. This means that you either have to find a group of people interested in doing the same thing you are doing (and good luck with that at lower levels) or you have to fly solo.
Flying solo is itself a schizophrenic experience, since the difficult curve scales in a punishingly steep manner. As you start out, you cruise through minor enemies and monsters like you’re eating a sandwich, but the moment you leave the secluded vale where you start and enter the “real world,” the game steals your sandwich and replaces it with a muffin stuffed with rusty nails. You have to play really, really carefully to avoid being eaten by mobs of enemies who descend from every corner of the map. Worst, the quests you receive give you absolutely no clue about how hard they will be to complete.
Another annoying thing about WoW is the time investment required. You can’t travel really fast at all until you reach level 30 (a goal completely out of the range of any trial account), which mean you spend the bulk of your time running around the same bloody forest looking for your quests. And if you should die you have to run all the way back to where you fell, and the respawn sites are located around populated areas, which means that they are far away from your corpse, so you spend five minutes running around as a ghost before you can resume the action.
Now, all of these flaws aside, I do like World of Warcraft as an RPG. It is quite well designed, as you would expect from Blizzard. The game feels like it has been specifically crafted to hook people, as it gives yo the constant feeling that if you only stick with it for a few more days your character will become the most powerful person in the land. It has good graphics, and implements quotidian things like eating and drinking in an innovative way. If it were only more forgiving on low-level players, I might be tempted to name it one of the best-designed RPGs ever made.
However, the time requirements are ultimately what turns me off. I play games in cycles, where I play one or two games for a couple months, then move on to another game in my collection. Also, I try not to play for more than a couple hours a day. World of Warcraft is not designed for such a casual attitude towards gaming. It demands that you spend lots of time with it, and it punishes casualness with difficulty in every aspect.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Welcome to the Cage of Monkeys!
Hello everyone,
Most of you know by now that I’m going to be studying abroad this year at the University of Innsbruck in Austria. If you didn’t, now you know, and if you did and forgot then consider your memory refreshed. I’m writing this email to tell you all how to get in touch with me and to cover a few other things.
Firstly, contact information. DO NOT call my cell phone. It does not operate in Europe. I will be getting a new cell over there, but I won’t appreciate high international phone bills. In light of that, here are the best ways to get in touch with me:
1. Email. I check my email very regularly whenever I have an internet connection. You can reach me at jashley1@nd.edu, jashley4@comcast.net, or zerstorer.von.welten@gmail.com.
2. Instant Messaging. I use both AIM and Google Talk these days. My AIM screen-name is LordHighPetty. Of the two I prefer Google Talk, though.
3. Voice chat through Google Talk. I recently bought a headset, and I’m working on setting that up. If you have Google Talk and a headset, you can talk to me over the internet without (hopefully) paying expensive phone bills.
4. Snail mail, if you so desire. I’ll notify you with my terrestrial address once I’ve settled into the University.
Now, another matter. To chronicle my adventures in Europe, I’m setting up a blog. It is currently in its infancy, but it will be the place where I will put all further updates, announcements, and news. You can find the blog at http://cageofmonkeys.blogspot.com/
Also, I have bought a new camera for my trip, and I know that you all will want pictures. Pictures will be going up at my Picasa webalbum, which can be found at: http://picasaweb.google.com/zerstorer.von.welten/
This too is in its infancy stages, so bear with me if I have problems with this setup.
Further details of my trip will be going up on my blog soon. I’m also going to include this information there as well.
I hope that this message finds you well and that your summers are unfolding fortuitously.
-John Ashley
Now, on to other details. I will be leaving the US at 4:30pm from O'Hare in Chicago. My flight will arrive at Vienna sometime in the early morning (Vienna time, obviously). From there I take another plane to the airport at Innsbruck, where I board a bus for Salzburg.
Salzburg is an Austrian city most famous in America as the filming location for "The Sound of Music." I will be staying there for five weeks in the four-star Hefterhof hotel, where I will be taking an intensive German refresher course. This means six hours of German every day, from about 9am to 3pm. After the course is complete, I'm probably heading to Munich for Oktoberfest.
Term at the University of Innsbruck starts on October 10. By then I will have moved in to my dorm and gotten appropriately settled. Term goes until January 31, with a break for Christmas. Then I have the month of February for my winter break, which I plan to spend touring around Europe in as much style as I can afford.
Spring term begins March 1. My current date of return (subject to change) is the 6th of June 2009.
Further updates regarding the study abroad program or anything else will come as they come.
-JA
Most of you know by now that I’m going to be studying abroad this year at the University of Innsbruck in Austria. If you didn’t, now you know, and if you did and forgot then consider your memory refreshed. I’m writing this email to tell you all how to get in touch with me and to cover a few other things.
Firstly, contact information. DO NOT call my cell phone. It does not operate in Europe. I will be getting a new cell over there, but I won’t appreciate high international phone bills. In light of that, here are the best ways to get in touch with me:
1. Email. I check my email very regularly whenever I have an internet connection. You can reach me at jashley1@nd.edu, jashley4@comcast.net, or zerstorer.von.welten@gmail.com.
2. Instant Messaging. I use both AIM and Google Talk these days. My AIM screen-name is LordHighPetty. Of the two I prefer Google Talk, though.
3. Voice chat through Google Talk. I recently bought a headset, and I’m working on setting that up. If you have Google Talk and a headset, you can talk to me over the internet without (hopefully) paying expensive phone bills.
4. Snail mail, if you so desire. I’ll notify you with my terrestrial address once I’ve settled into the University.
Now, another matter. To chronicle my adventures in Europe, I’m setting up a blog. It is currently in its infancy, but it will be the place where I will put all further updates, announcements, and news. You can find the blog at http://cageofmonkeys.blogspot.com/
Also, I have bought a new camera for my trip, and I know that you all will want pictures. Pictures will be going up at my Picasa webalbum, which can be found at: http://picasaweb.google.com/zerstorer.von.welten/
This too is in its infancy stages, so bear with me if I have problems with this setup.
Further details of my trip will be going up on my blog soon. I’m also going to include this information there as well.
I hope that this message finds you well and that your summers are unfolding fortuitously.
-John Ashley
Now, on to other details. I will be leaving the US at 4:30pm from O'Hare in Chicago. My flight will arrive at Vienna sometime in the early morning (Vienna time, obviously). From there I take another plane to the airport at Innsbruck, where I board a bus for Salzburg.
Salzburg is an Austrian city most famous in America as the filming location for "The Sound of Music." I will be staying there for five weeks in the four-star Hefterhof hotel, where I will be taking an intensive German refresher course. This means six hours of German every day, from about 9am to 3pm. After the course is complete, I'm probably heading to Munich for Oktoberfest.
Term at the University of Innsbruck starts on October 10. By then I will have moved in to my dorm and gotten appropriately settled. Term goes until January 31, with a break for Christmas. Then I have the month of February for my winter break, which I plan to spend touring around Europe in as much style as I can afford.
Spring term begins March 1. My current date of return (subject to change) is the 6th of June 2009.
Further updates regarding the study abroad program or anything else will come as they come.
-JA
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
"Sorry, Marge" annotation
Scrinis, Gyorgy: “Sorry, Marge.” Meanjin, Vol. 61, No. 4, 2002, pp. 108-116
In this article, Scrinis talks about how nutritional scares have driven people away from whole foods and replaced them with artificial substitutes. The title of his article is a reference to margarine, which has been touted as a “safe” replacement for butter (when, in fact, it is nutritionally worse than butter). This article is a good analysis of one area in which nutrition has declined, and provides solid evidence for my paper.
In this article, Scrinis talks about how nutritional scares have driven people away from whole foods and replaced them with artificial substitutes. The title of his article is a reference to margarine, which has been touted as a “safe” replacement for butter (when, in fact, it is nutritionally worse than butter). This article is a good analysis of one area in which nutrition has declined, and provides solid evidence for my paper.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
proposals for research paper
3 quick ideas:
1. The United Nations is a necessary and good thing.
In this paper I will first cover the history of the United Nations. I’ll start with its antecedents and then move on to the historical background of its creation. I’ll cover its famous achievements, up to the present day. Then, based on the evidence that I’ve already given, I will make my argument; that is, that despite all of the scathing critiques leveled against it, the United Nations can and does do good in the world.
2. Nuclear power is actually worth it.
I’ll start, as always, with the historical background to nuclear power, and then proceed to explain (as simply as possible) the physics and engineering behind it. I’ll then cover the critiques made against nuclear power as a viable energy source. Then I will argue that given the weakness and unreliability of fossil fuels as an energy source, nuclear power is one of the best options available as a replacement.
3. Food in America today is unhealthy.
I’ll attack this in a couple of different ways. First, I’ll show how the prevalence and addictiveness of fast food makes it as dangerous as a poison in the water supply. Then, based on that, I’ll show how most of the food in supermarkets is prepared with an eye for taste and cheapness, not actual nutrition. Finally, I will conclude with some ideas of what ought to be done to rectify the situation.
1. The United Nations is a necessary and good thing.
In this paper I will first cover the history of the United Nations. I’ll start with its antecedents and then move on to the historical background of its creation. I’ll cover its famous achievements, up to the present day. Then, based on the evidence that I’ve already given, I will make my argument; that is, that despite all of the scathing critiques leveled against it, the United Nations can and does do good in the world.
2. Nuclear power is actually worth it.
I’ll start, as always, with the historical background to nuclear power, and then proceed to explain (as simply as possible) the physics and engineering behind it. I’ll then cover the critiques made against nuclear power as a viable energy source. Then I will argue that given the weakness and unreliability of fossil fuels as an energy source, nuclear power is one of the best options available as a replacement.
3. Food in America today is unhealthy.
I’ll attack this in a couple of different ways. First, I’ll show how the prevalence and addictiveness of fast food makes it as dangerous as a poison in the water supply. Then, based on that, I’ll show how most of the food in supermarkets is prepared with an eye for taste and cheapness, not actual nutrition. Finally, I will conclude with some ideas of what ought to be done to rectify the situation.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Peace in Our Time
"At last, we shall have peace in our time."
-Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain of Britain, upon signing the Munich Agreement ceding Czechoslovakia to Hitler
South Park’s Cartoon Wars presents a humorous and satirical take on the issue of free speech. As is typical with the show, the writers take some current issue and extrapolate it to ludicrous proportions, thereby illuminating the flaws, contradictions, and stupidity which underpin it. The show lampoons the response of apologizing for the cartoons instead of defending them. It’s fine to draw cartoons criticizing other religions, but not Islam. Ironically, it’s fine to criticize the world’s largest superpower, but not Islamic nations. Rather, we ought to ignore the issues and hope that they go away.
The show also illustrates how Americans are easily spooked by the mere thought of offending Islam. In the town, mass panic ensues when a censored image is broadcast, and the school’s curriculum has a class added about how not to speak of Muslims.
And, sadly, some of what the episode exaggerates is true. Americans are easily spooked, and we do try to ignore our own constitution to keep angry people sated. And this from a nation which supposedly does not negotiate with terrorists. The last time a great nation tried to appease its foes by granting them what they wanted, there was a world war not a year later.
Sincere apologies for the tardiness of this post. It flew completely out of my mind yesterday.
-Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain of Britain, upon signing the Munich Agreement ceding Czechoslovakia to Hitler
South Park’s Cartoon Wars presents a humorous and satirical take on the issue of free speech. As is typical with the show, the writers take some current issue and extrapolate it to ludicrous proportions, thereby illuminating the flaws, contradictions, and stupidity which underpin it. The show lampoons the response of apologizing for the cartoons instead of defending them. It’s fine to draw cartoons criticizing other religions, but not Islam. Ironically, it’s fine to criticize the world’s largest superpower, but not Islamic nations. Rather, we ought to ignore the issues and hope that they go away.
The show also illustrates how Americans are easily spooked by the mere thought of offending Islam. In the town, mass panic ensues when a censored image is broadcast, and the school’s curriculum has a class added about how not to speak of Muslims.
And, sadly, some of what the episode exaggerates is true. Americans are easily spooked, and we do try to ignore our own constitution to keep angry people sated. And this from a nation which supposedly does not negotiate with terrorists. The last time a great nation tried to appease its foes by granting them what they wanted, there was a world war not a year later.
Sincere apologies for the tardiness of this post. It flew completely out of my mind yesterday.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Welcome to Airstrip One...
In her essay The Border Patrol State, Leslie Silko argues that the federal drive to stop illegal immigration has turned the southwestern United States into a police state. As evidence, she relates her own personal experiences and encounters with the Border Patrol, as well as the experience of others. She tells of a time when she was stopped and searched by Border Patrol cars, and when she was detained in the ironically named town of Truth or Consequences. She relates the experiences of two friends who were also stopped on a pretext and questioned or searched.
The essay does an excellent job of supporting her claims. Silko narrates the experiences with vivid and sometimes terrifying details. She starts the essay talking about how she was told that she was privileged to live in a country where people could travel anywhere without being stopped, and contrasts this throughout with stories of innocent people being inflicted with the same violation they were told that they were immune from. She ends the essay with the same ironic tone she started with, writing about the uselessness of border protection constructs and agencies. Finally she concludes by predicting that despite the billions of dollars expended, the borders will never really close.
For further information, you might want to consult the following:
(inspired by last class)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVAOqZlJQn8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bo7M_vKpb4&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNPA88RUzWk
The essay does an excellent job of supporting her claims. Silko narrates the experiences with vivid and sometimes terrifying details. She starts the essay talking about how she was told that she was privileged to live in a country where people could travel anywhere without being stopped, and contrasts this throughout with stories of innocent people being inflicted with the same violation they were told that they were immune from. She ends the essay with the same ironic tone she started with, writing about the uselessness of border protection constructs and agencies. Finally she concludes by predicting that despite the billions of dollars expended, the borders will never really close.
For further information, you might want to consult the following:
(inspired by last class)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVAOqZlJQn8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bo7M_vKpb4&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNPA88RUzWk
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Y'know, this is a pretty cool idea...
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/20/opinion/20gerecht.html?ref=opinion
Now, whether or not this link works is up for grabs, so here is the text of the article, pasted from the web page. No changes were made.
Now, whether or not this link works is up for grabs, so here is the text of the article, pasted from the web page. No changes were made.
FOR those who believe — as I do — that the clerics who rule Iran must never have an arsenal of nuclear weapons, the United States’ course of action ought to be clear: The Bush administration should advocate direct, unconditional talks between Washington and Tehran. Strategically, politically and morally, such meetings will help us think more clearly. Foreign-policy hawks ought to see such discussions as essential preparation for possible military strikes against clerical Iran’s nuclear facilities.
The consensus among Iran’s ruling elite is that a hard-line stance on the nuclear question has paid off: uranium enrichment, the most industrially demanding part of developing nuclear weapons, has rapidly advanced. And, unexpectedly and gratifyingly, the Bush administration’s National Intelligence Estimate of November, which found that “in fall 2003, Tehran halted its nuclear weapons program,” damaged Western resolve to invoke economy-crippling sanctions, let alone the American threat to use force against Tehran.
And perhaps the best news for Iran: the unclassified “key judgments” of the intelligence estimate reveal that the Central Intelligence Agency and the National Security Agency did not — and in all probability, still do not — have human and technical sources inside the inner circles of the Iranian nuclear program. The mullahs, who are quite savvy about American intelligence, having made mincemeat of C.I.A. networks in the past, surely see this. The great American debate about what to do about Iran’s nuclear capacity — a debate that may divide Americans from Europeans more than Iraq — could well return with a vengeance before next year. It will quickly bedevil the next administration.
Negotiations are likely the only way we can confront this threat before it’s too late. The administration’s current approach isn’t working. For selfish and malevolent reasons, China and Russia will not back tough sanctions. Neither likely will the trade-obsessed Germans and the increasingly self-absorbed, America-leery British. Washington and Paris cannot play bad cop alone. We must find a way to restore the resolve of all those parties and hit Iran with a tsunami of sanctions if we are to diminish the victorious esprit in Tehran and the centrifuge production at Natanz.
Yet, what has been the response of most American hawks to this mess? Prayer. They are essentially waiting for the clerical regime to do something stupid so that they can galvanize an awareness among Americans that mullahs should not have the bomb. True, the Iranian clerics have often done the wrong thing at the right time, from aiding the bombers of the Khobar Towers in Saudi Arabia in 1996 and our African embassies in 1998, to the kidnapping of British sailors and marines last year. It is possible that Tehran, which wants to cause us great harm in Iraq and Afghanistan, could again back a terrorist attack that kills enough Americans to make preventive military strikes against Iran’s nuclear facilities mandatory.
But the Iranians know this. They know they are in the final nuclear stretch: they will likely play it sufficiently cool to make it difficult for the United States to strike them pre-emptively.
Thus the best reason to offer to begin talks with Tehran is that the regime will almost certainly refuse any offer to normalize relations. In the late 1990s, President Bill Clinton almost begged Iran’s reformist president, Mohammad Khatami, to sit and chat. The mullahs, who knew that Mr. Clinton was playing down Tehran’s role in the Khobar Towers bombing, spurned the offer. Since then, Iran’s internal politics have become more hard-core. In January, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, Iran’s clerical overlord, re-rejected the idea, quite popular among average Iranians, that the Islamic Republic should re-establish relations with “Satan Incarnate.”
If the mullahs don’t want to negotiate, fine: making the offer is something that must be checked off before the next president could unleash the Air Force and the Navy. To make the threat of force against clerical Iran again credible, there needs to be a consensus among far more Democrats and Republicans that a nuclear-armed Iran is intolerable. If the White House tried more energetically to find a diplomatic solution to the nuclear threat, if it demonstrated that it had reached out to Iranian “pragmatists” and “moderates,” and that again no one responded, then the military option would likely become convincing to more Americans.
Critics of any discussions might respond that the Iranians might say yes, but to only low-level talks in Switzerland, not in Washington and Tehran. In so doing, the mullahs could bind the United States to meaningless, stalling discussions while the regime perfected uranium enrichment, increased the range and accuracy of its ballistic missiles and advanced its nuclear warhead designs.
But so what? Minus the direct talks, this is more or less what is happening now. Would a President John McCain tolerate pointless discussions? Probably not. Would Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton? Perhaps. Mr. Obama and Mrs. Clinton may well prefer to see the clerical regime go nuclear than strike it preventively. But if that is where they would go, their opponents can do little about it. The only thing that could conceivably change their minds would be direct talks on the big issues separating the two countries. The mullahs have a way of driving their foreign interlocutors nuts. Just ask the European negotiators who’ve had to deal with them. Meeting Iranian leaders is perhaps the best way to turn doves into hawks.
For far too long, the United States has failed to wage a war of ideas with the Iranian regime over the proposal that scares them the most: the reopening of the American Embassy. Washington has the biggest bully pulpit in the world, and we are faced with a clerical foe that constantly rails against the intrusion of American values into the bloodstream of Iranian society. There are profound social, cultural and political differences among Iran’s ruling elites, let alone between that class and ordinary Iranians. Some of these differences could conceivably have a major effect on the progress of Iran’s nuclear-weapons program. And the way to make these differences increasingly acute is to apply American soft and hard power.
Ayatollah Khamenei needs to be put off balance, as he was in 1997 when Mr. Khatami unexpectedly tapped into a huge groundswell of popular discontent and became president. What we need now is a psychological repeat of 1997: a shock to the clerical system that again opens Iran to serious debate.
When dealing with the mullahs, it is always wise to follow the lead of one of Iran’s most audacious clerical dissidents, former Interior Minister Abdallah Nuri. In 1999, he mocked the regime for its organic fear of the United States. Is the revolution’s Islam so weak, he said, that it cannot sustain the restoration of relations with the United States?
It would be riveting in Tehran — and millions of Iranians would watch on satellite TV — if Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice challenged the regime in this way: Islam is a great faith; the United States has relations with all Muslim nations except the Islamic Republic; we have diplomatic relations with Hugo Chávez and American diplomats in Havana. Why does the Islamic Republic fear us so? Is the regime so fragile? President Khatami repeatedly said that he wanted a “dialogue of civilizations.” The United States should finally say, “O.K., let’s start.”
If the Bush administration were to use this sort of diplomatic jujitsu on the ruling clerics, it could convulse their world. No, this is absolutely no guarantee that Tehran will stop, or even suspend, uranium enrichment. But a new approach would certainly put the United States on offense and Iran on defense. We would, at least, have the unquestioned moral and political high ground. And from there, it would be a lot easier for the next administration, if it must, to stop militarily the mullahs’ quest for the bomb.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Feb 18 stuff
Link: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02
/14/AR2008021403847.html
Thomson makes an aesthetic argument (in a very ironic sense) that George Romero's Diary of the Dead is not innovative because, unlike Romero's previous films, it does not address issues critical to our times. "Beyond the midnight-show scariness of his movies, Romero used the subgenre as a way to be ahead of the zeitgeist, most memorably in "Night of the Living Dead," which opened the wounds of race and racism; and in "Dawn of the Dead," which attacked our gross consumerism by setting the carnage in a shopping mall. And so on. But with "Diary," Romero has joined the satirical rank and file, the filmmakers who simply reprise existing notions that reflect our times. The target this time is too obvious and easy: the downloading, amoral, perpetually media-obsessed youth of today."
/14/AR2008021403847.html
Thomson makes an aesthetic argument (in a very ironic sense) that George Romero's Diary of the Dead is not innovative because, unlike Romero's previous films, it does not address issues critical to our times. "Beyond the midnight-show scariness of his movies, Romero used the subgenre as a way to be ahead of the zeitgeist, most memorably in "Night of the Living Dead," which opened the wounds of race and racism; and in "Dawn of the Dead," which attacked our gross consumerism by setting the carnage in a shopping mall. And so on. But with "Diary," Romero has joined the satirical rank and file, the filmmakers who simply reprise existing notions that reflect our times. The target this time is too obvious and easy: the downloading, amoral, perpetually media-obsessed youth of today."
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
In her article Virtual Friendship and the New Narcissism, Christine Rosen asks: “Does this technology, with its constant demands to collect (friends and status), and perform (by marketing ourselves), in some ways undermine our ability to attain what it promises—a surer sense of who we are and where we belong?” I would argue, especially in light of the Nicomachean Ethics, that FaceBook and MySpace do undermine our “sense of who we are and where we belong.” What kind of friendships come through these services? Most of the friends on my FaceBook page are people I rarely, if ever see; others are inhabitants of my dorm whom I never talk to, but which FaceBook claims I have “friended.” Aristotle writes: “Those who are quick to show signs of friendship to one another are not really friends, though they wish to be; they are not true friends unless they are worthy of [each others’] affection and know this to be true. The wish to be friends can come about quickly, but friendship cannot.” The kinds of friendship that come about through social networks like FaceBook and MySpace don’t really fall under any of categories of Aristotle, since they seem more like acknowledgments of other people’s existence than anything else. At a great stretch, one might describe them as the kinds of friendships which Aristotle says are based on pleasure. They are most certainly not “the perfect form of friendship...between good men who are alike in excellence or virtue.”
It seems to me that the term “friend” in the case of social networking, has been misapplied, since most of the friends aren’t really friends. At most, they are people whose company is enjoyable, but they do not complement, support, and better each other the way true friendship does. I think that they are more like acquaintances. Certainly, a few of my good friends are my “friends” on FaceBook. Then again, there are the nine or so friend requests from people I’ve never met in my entire life, or from people I dislike. They are “called ‘friends,’ as children are ‘friends’ with one another.” Thus, I would say that social networking websites and services have devalued friendship in that they have misapplied. We keep using the word, but it doesn’t really mean what we think it means.
It seems to me that the term “friend” in the case of social networking, has been misapplied, since most of the friends aren’t really friends. At most, they are people whose company is enjoyable, but they do not complement, support, and better each other the way true friendship does. I think that they are more like acquaintances. Certainly, a few of my good friends are my “friends” on FaceBook. Then again, there are the nine or so friend requests from people I’ve never met in my entire life, or from people I dislike. They are “called ‘friends,’ as children are ‘friends’ with one another.” Thus, I would say that social networking websites and services have devalued friendship in that they have misapplied. We keep using the word, but it doesn’t really mean what we think it means.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Here's the article: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02/10/AR2008021002143.html?wpisrc=newsletter&wpisrc=newsletter
And here's my analysis:
Stephen Barr’s article, What Workers Should Consider when Voting for Their Next Boss, is good example of a definitional argument. Barr sets out to define something, namely, what workers in federal employ should consider when voting for president. After briefly summarizing the positions of the candidates, Barr gives his definition: the president ought to have “an understanding and appreciation of public service and of the people who work in the federal government.”
To support his argument Barr quotes several authorities in the area: the president of the National Treasury Employees Union, the president of the National Federation of Federal Employees, and the president of the Federal Managers Association, among others. All of these are in favor of the expansion of the public service, and say that employees should look for that in the candidate.
Barr uses good evidence to support his definition; he backs it up with quotes from knowledgeable experts in the field. He also makes it clear that federal employs probably will not vote Republican, since both Huckabee and McCain are in favor of drastic cutbacks and layoffs in both the public service and in government in general. One of Huckabee’s oft-quoted planks is his plan to eliminate the IRS, and McCain is in favor of reducing already anorexic budgets and firing many employees.
Barr bases his definition on the sound theory that employees like being employed. He backs his definition up with a slew of evidence from the presidents of federal unions. By comparing the various candidates, he makes it clear (although he never openly says) which candidate employees are likely to vote for. His definition is a sound and reasonalbe one.
And here's my analysis:
Stephen Barr’s article, What Workers Should Consider when Voting for Their Next Boss, is good example of a definitional argument. Barr sets out to define something, namely, what workers in federal employ should consider when voting for president. After briefly summarizing the positions of the candidates, Barr gives his definition: the president ought to have “an understanding and appreciation of public service and of the people who work in the federal government.”
To support his argument Barr quotes several authorities in the area: the president of the National Treasury Employees Union, the president of the National Federation of Federal Employees, and the president of the Federal Managers Association, among others. All of these are in favor of the expansion of the public service, and say that employees should look for that in the candidate.
Barr uses good evidence to support his definition; he backs it up with quotes from knowledgeable experts in the field. He also makes it clear that federal employs probably will not vote Republican, since both Huckabee and McCain are in favor of drastic cutbacks and layoffs in both the public service and in government in general. One of Huckabee’s oft-quoted planks is his plan to eliminate the IRS, and McCain is in favor of reducing already anorexic budgets and firing many employees.
Barr bases his definition on the sound theory that employees like being employed. He backs his definition up with a slew of evidence from the presidents of federal unions. By comparing the various candidates, he makes it clear (although he never openly says) which candidate employees are likely to vote for. His definition is a sound and reasonalbe one.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
First Glorious Post of the Second Glorious Blog
Let us hope that this blog survives, otherwise I shall be greatly wroth...
Link to art: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Lucas_Cranach_-_Antichrist.png
This is a woodcut made by Lucas Cranach the Elder. The title is "Antichrist."
This work makes strong pathetic appeals to the audience. It shows the pope residing in the Vatican, surrounded by lawyers and bankers. Any view of Cranach's time would immediately recall the biblical scene where Jesus drives the bankers out of the temple, and associate the pope with the bankers. Because the pope controls the church, yet will be driven out, the viewer would then confirm the title of the work and think of the pope as an anti-Christ. Cranach sets up the scene by employing logos. When the work was drawn in 1521, simony (the practice of selling Catholic offices and favors) was rampant, as the Church desperately need money to complete the Lateran Basilica in Rome. The viewer of this work would likely be wondering where all of the money went, and Cranach supplies a semi-logical conclusion. Cranach exploits ethos through his medium. Woodcuts were the means by which artists illustrated handbills, posters, and widely read books. No artist would dream of using woodcut for a portrait of a patron. By using woodcut rather than paint, Cranach establishes that he is not one of the people surrounding the pope, but an upright, moral, and humble man.
Link to art: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Lucas_Cranach_-_Antichrist.png
This is a woodcut made by Lucas Cranach the Elder. The title is "Antichrist."
This work makes strong pathetic appeals to the audience. It shows the pope residing in the Vatican, surrounded by lawyers and bankers. Any view of Cranach's time would immediately recall the biblical scene where Jesus drives the bankers out of the temple, and associate the pope with the bankers. Because the pope controls the church, yet will be driven out, the viewer would then confirm the title of the work and think of the pope as an anti-Christ. Cranach sets up the scene by employing logos. When the work was drawn in 1521, simony (the practice of selling Catholic offices and favors) was rampant, as the Church desperately need money to complete the Lateran Basilica in Rome. The viewer of this work would likely be wondering where all of the money went, and Cranach supplies a semi-logical conclusion. Cranach exploits ethos through his medium. Woodcuts were the means by which artists illustrated handbills, posters, and widely read books. No artist would dream of using woodcut for a portrait of a patron. By using woodcut rather than paint, Cranach establishes that he is not one of the people surrounding the pope, but an upright, moral, and humble man.
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