Category: Wilderness Wanderings

We Are — Penn State; We Are — Penn State Snacks

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Who knew that Penn State was not only a university but a line of pretzel products, that according to the website “was the first brand to bring an authentic American-style baked pretzel to the UK. . . . crispy pretzel knots – made to an authentic American recipe and perfectly baked every time!” I had a small bag of Penn State’s sour cream and chives pretzels on the flight back to the U.S. yesterday. They were good, surprisingly so for a country that isn’t as accomplished as the U.S. is at providing salty snacks to beer drinkers. I mean, when do you ever see two men sipping pints in an Irish or British pub while snacking on handfuls of party mix?

But given the shakiness of Penn State’s image after the Jerry Sandusky conviction or how protective most universities are of their brand and image, I can’t believe that the pretzel company is still called Penn State. So far, though, I haven’t found any signs of hostility between the university and a company that has so obviously borrowed from the university’s identity. Since Pennsylvanians love their pretzels, have university officials been bought off with lifetime supplies of Paterno Parmesan twists?

Today I Crossed the Tiber (or, I didn't walk where Jesus walked)

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I didn’t get wet and I remained a Protestant. Amazing how handy those bridges are.

Since the river runs through the city, it is hard not to cross it when navigating Rome. This makes me wonder why the phrase is supposed to signify converting to Roman Catholicism.

This answer likely makes the most sense:

I don’t know where the phrase was first used, but it’s based on the geography of Rome. St. Peter’s Basilica & Vatican City are located on the opposite (west) side of the Tiber River from classical Rome (on the east) with its famous seven hills, Colosseum, Forum, Pantheon, Imperial Palace, Circus Maximus, and whatnot.

I would guess part of the idea in the language is that a Gentile crosses from paganism (represented by classical Rome) to Christianity (represented by St. Peter’s) through the waters of baptism (represented by the Tiber). Of course, not everyone who now “crosses the Tiber” was a pagan before doing so. Some are Christians, some are Jews. But I do think it’s a possible dimension of the metaphor.

But given the way that Roman Catholicism incorporated pagan philosophy (read Aristotle), does this make sense?

Haven't I Seen These Ruins Before?

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Out for my Sabbath stroll yesterday, I got a little lost though the statues atop the Basilica of St. John Lateran worked as my compass, I found my way to the Palatine Hill, which made the German Reformed side of me feel a little at home (though I now know “Palatine” has little to do with Germany and lots to do with an official’s status within the empire). As I progressed to the Foro Romano (Roman Forum for those mentally challenged) and looked out over the ruins to the Colosseum all I could think of was Ephesus. The temperature was as torridly hot as last year’s trip to Turkey, the sun as bright, the air as dry, my throat as parched, and the tourists as numerous.

The big difference is that Ephesus died. The city that was there — it was only second to Constantinople in the Byzantine Era — dried up as the harbor filled with silt and thereby cut of commercial access to the Aegean Sea. An earthquake in 614 did not do Ephesus great favors either. But to my untrained archaeological eye, the Turks have done a better job at restoring Ephesus’ ruins than the Romans have with the Roman Forum and its surroundings.

But that is not a knock on the Romans (as if I’m siding with Muslims over Roman Catholics) since they had matters to keep them preoccupied other than ruins and how to preserve them (and how to attract tourists to them). They had a major European capital city to build and maintain. So for all the money that may have gone into preserving the Colosseum in a way that would make it scaffolding-free for ME during MY trip, Rome’s citizens and officials also needed to worry about roads, a metro system, modern art, and pizza.

This means (at least for today) that the ruins in Rome are a lot more ho hum than in Turkey. Even though the Roman ruins are even more Roman than the Roman ruins in Turkey, they have a lot more to compete with in contemporary Rome. Thus far on this journey into one of the world’s ancient cities, I enjoy the competition.

The Queen's Speech

Published on by D. G. Hart9 Comments

I have long thought that the monarchy in Europe is largely ornamental. And given the press’ coverage of the papacy, I also wondered if Pope Francis has more authority than, say, Queen Elizabeth. But yesterday, the Queen of England spoke to Parliament and outlined the policies that “her” government was going to pursue in the upcoming months.

The speech to parliament put the economic recovery at its centre, opening with a pledge to continue bringing down the deficit and cutting taxes “to increase people’s financial security”.

With the threat that the Bank of England will increase the base rate before the General Election, there is also a pledge to keep mortgage and interest rates low and to continue to promote the Help to Buy scheme.

David Cameron had suggested he could amend the scheme after Bank of England Governor Mark Carney warned in an interview with Sky News that rising house prices were the biggest threat to economic recovery in the UK.

In an attempt to tackle the housing shortage, the Government announced plans to give developers powers to push through applications without council approval and allowing the Government to sell off unused land for development.

A new garden city will also be built in the Thames estuary at Ebbsfleet in Kent to tackle the housing shortage.

The Prime Minister and his Deputy Nick Clegg claimed the measures laid out in the Queen’s Speech were “unashamedly pro-work, pro-business and pro-aspiration”.

Just 11 new bills were introduced by the Queen at the State Opening of Parliament, which will bolster Labour’s claims the coalition is now a “zombie government” which has run out of steam. Last year there were 19 new bills.

Mr Cameron hit back at claims there was “not enough” in the speech. He told the House of Commons: “We’re creating new laws on producing shale gas… new laws to help build high speed rail… new laws to reform planning to build more homes… we’re outlawing modern slavery; confiscating assets from criminals; protecting people who volunteer; cutting red tape and curbing the abuse of zero-hour contracts.

“This is a packed programme of a busy and radical government.”

I am not sure about the propriety of describing a monarchical government as radical since the republics of the U.S. and France were supposed to be the ones that broke with Europe’s conservative order. But given the way that life goes on in the UK under a monarch and the way that the U.S. republic has evolved into an empire, I wonder if republicanism is all it’s sometimes cracked up to be. Maybe an independent Scotland will show the way.

Day One without a Washcloth

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I know this boarders on tmi, but why is it that Europeans and Turks don’t furnish hotel patrons with a simple washcloth? I get it that Americans are not in the habit of outfitting bathrooms with bidets — but neither are the Irish or the Turks. So what is the aspiring ablutionist to do? When it comes to the handy devise of said washcloth, I am willing to use that dreaded phrase, “human flourishing.”

That said, this morning’s rituals in Dublin (where I am doing some research while not crawling from pub to pub — kidding, dear but you’re probably not reading) included a full Irish breakfast in the hotel’s dining room. There I brought along a recent issue of First Things (to keep away the friendly tourist) and found a readable discussion of Robbie George’s proposal that churches should get out of the civil marriage business (April 2014). As a side point, I was struck by the number of appeals to the deeply theological accounts of marriage and how the secular version is merely an inferior copy. For one, Scripture itself doesn’t say that much about marriage, though the analogy of the church and Christ does give lots of wiggle room — yet it is only an analogy, like a piece of bread and a thimble of wine is a meal. For another, complaints about the inferior nature of secular marriage strike me as yet one more version of Christians bellyaching about the loss of Christendom — oh, how inferior a secular republic is to the deeply textured presence of faith in medieval Europe. Put not your hope in princes, their territories, or their marriages.

None of the Protestant contributors to this discussion picked up on what George’s proposal would do for Protestant ministers. Since Protestant churches know nothing of marriage as a sacrament, since marriage is a common institution not reserved for believers, the only kind of marriage that Protestants offer is a secular version. In our records we don’t keep a special class of members who are married. We have no instruction from Scripture that pastors are supposed to perform marriages (and I can’t think of any explicit cases or instruction from the Old Testament that would have led the apostles to think they needed to perform marriages, though I didn’t score high on my English Bible exam). And we have nary little instruction from Scripture about a happy home except for that impossible stuff about wives submitting and husbands loving (what pastors cover in marriage counseling before a ceremony is a true mystery — do ministers really know anything about finances or balancing a checkbook?).

So I’ll take the challenge. I propose that Reformed churches encourage their pastors to get out of the marriage racket. At the very least, it puts us out in front of that difficult situation when a gay couple wants to make an example of one of our congregations. At the most, what do we lose? So we as a body of believers accompany a couple and their witnesses (the signed ones) to the city courtroom to observe a civil marriage ceremony. Would that be so bad? Imagine the savings on flowers and wedding party attire.

On the other side, I could see abandoning the wedding ceremony for its inclusion within a Sunday morning worship service, sort of like the vows that new members take before the observance of the Lord’s Supper. So the couple would go forward, the pastor would offer some brief instruction about marriage, bride and groom would take their vows, return to their seats, and participate in the rest of the service. The reception? Coffee hour.

Imagine the even more savings!

You Don't Need to be David Simon to Know that Arcade Fire Does Not Play Jazz

Published on by D. G. Hart10 Comments

But watching Treme will help.

The missus and I have finished season three of Simon’s latest HBO series and it holds up even if it is not as good (to all about me) as The Wire. Both series are about medium-large historic American cities under siege — drugs in The Wire’s Baltimore and hurricane Katrina in Treme’s New Orleans. The characters in both are grizzled survivors, not victims, who don’t get any help from large bureaucratic organizations — police, city government, federal government — to assist their struggle to survive. In fact, the organizations that are supposed to play umpire so that bad people don’t profit from others’ suffering are either inept or have palms out positioned to be greased by profiteers.

Unlike The Wire, Treme is missing the cops/murder mystery dimension. Originally I was not interested in The Wire because I figured it would be another gussied up cop show — Hill Street Blues for the new millennium. But I was wrong. The legal dimension of the show always supplied a story line, which in turn helped to make sense of the Dickensian set of characters that come and go. It led me to conclude that “the law makes it better,” meaning, without the clear sense of injustice in pursuit of resolution through justice, arguably the narrative that holds this here planet earth in some place of cosmic meaning, a show like Treme wanders. In season three, legal aspects of Treme receive more prominence and drama heightens as a result. But this viewer has a hard time understanding what holds all the characters’ lives together other than the city.

Of course, the one prominent feature of Treme that might yield coherence — more in the form of a documentary — is music. If I were a fan of jazz I might enjoy the series more, but usually during every episode I say to my wife, much to her annoyance, “too much music.” A constant battle in the show is that between authentic New Orleans music, which includes jazz (in various forms) and zydeco for starters, and the tourists who know nothing about music and come to town to hear celebrity acts that are distant from the city’s musical heritage. Again, I don’t know enough music to weigh in on any of this, but the show did allow me to discern that Bruce Springsteen and Christina Aguilera, who recently appeared at the New Orleans Jazz Fest, were likely there because of folks trying to profit from a national perception of the city rather than because they represent anything indigenous to New Orleans or Louisiana.

Christina Aguilera! Really?

Why Not Great Friday?

Published on by D. G. Hart49 Comments

I would not normally be thinking about Good Friday or a Easter ham if it were not for a much needed break from teaching over the next few days. The experience of a confessional Presbyterian over the next 72 hours must be like that of some non-Christians — grateful for the time off but not using the time the way pious intended, that is, by going to church or attending to devotional exercises. So I admit it is unbecoming to complain about the church calendar when I benefit (in an earthly way) from it.

I understand that the Reformed churches differed on the place of certain holy days in the corporate life of the church. For instance, the Second Helvetic Confession leaves room for Great Friday:

The Festivals of Christ and the Saints. Moreover, if in Christian liberty the churches religiously celebrate the memory of the Lord’s nativity, circumcision, passion, resurrection, and of his ascension into heaven, and the sending of the Holy Spirit upon his disciples, we approve of it highly. But we do not approve of feasts instituted for men and for saints. Holy days have to do with the first Table of the Law and belong to God alone. (Ch. 24)

In contrast, the Confession of Faith is silent about holy days other than Sunday:

. . . in his Word, by a positive, moral, and perpetual commandment binding all men in all ages, he hath particularly appointed one day in seven, for a Sabbath, to be kept holy unto him: which, from the beginning of the world to the resurrection of Christ, was the last day of the week; and, from the resurrection of Christ, was changed into the first day of the week, which, in Scripture, is called the Lord’s day, and is to be continued to the end of the world, as the Christian Sabbath. (21.7)

However you come down on the Friday before the Lord’s Day associated by some Christians with Easter, I do wonder why we can refer to Awakenings as Great but not the day when Christ bore the guilt of the elect upon the cross. I understand that the goodness of Good Friday may be more than meets the eye. Editors at Slate found three reasons etymologically or historically for calling the day “good,” among them the following:

The third and final theory, the one supported by both the Oxford English Dictionary and every language expert I contacted, is that the name comes from an antiquated meaning of good. “The answer seems pretty clearly to be that it’s from good ‘holy,’ ” responded Jesse Sheidlower, the president of the American Dialect Society, when I put this question to him. Liberman agreed, noting that if you consider the other names for Good Friday—“Sacred Friday” in the Romance languages (Viernes Santo, e.g.), “Passion Friday” in Russian—“the OED’s explanation makes excellent sense.” The OED also notes that there was once Good Wednesday, the Wednesday before Easter, which these days is more commonly known as Holy Wednesday.

Even so, why not great? We do throw around the word “great” a lot. Great Awakenings, Great Depression, Great European Migration, American Greatness. Some readers know my preference for Leo Ribuffo’s reduction of the American Awakenings to Pretty Good, and that is a useful reminder about the way we traffic in greatness and countenance immodesty. But why settle only for good when it comes to the day when some commemorate Christ’s death? Why not elevate the day to Pretty Good Friday?

Why My Pants Were Damp Yesterday

Published on by D. G. Hart33 Comments

While visiting Notre Dame this week I encountered bathrooms that had gone green. That is, they had signs that instructed me (while still giving me the option) that using an electric hand dryer was environmentally positive, while using paper towels was environmentally insensitive. Why, I wondered, was something that required electricity more eco-friendly than a piece of paper that could be recycled? Confused, I wiped my hands on my pants. Later, I received a little help for my dilemma and embarrassment from an article at Slate:

Calculating the impact of electric dryers is easy enough. A fair amount of energy goes into manufacturing metal goods with mechanical parts. But the fact that dryers last so long—typically between seven and 10 years—means that production accounts for a negligible part of the hardware’s total energy consumption. The vast majority of a dryer’s environmental toll stems from the electricity it requires; a typical warm-air dryer uses around 2,200 watts of power when switched on, plus about 2 watts while in standby mode. If you dry your hands for 30 seconds (as opposed to the 43 seconds required to get them fully water-free), then you’re using about 0.018 kilowatt-hours of electricity. Do that three times a day for a year, and your insistence on dry-hand decorum has run you 19.71 kWh of electricity, which translates into roughly 26.61 pounds of carbon dioxide emissions.

There are several variables that can complicate the hand-dryer equation. The first is the emergence of a new generation of dryers, such as the XLerator and the Dyson Airblade, that claim to be at least 80 percent more efficient than their forerunners (due in part to much shorter drying times). You also need to consider how your local power grid generates its electricity—the more coal that is used, the more carbon a dryer will generate per kilowatt-hour. (As always, you can check out your grid’s fuel mix by using the Environmental Protection Agency’s Power Profiler tool.)

These complications, however, pale in comparison with those that bedevil the life-cycle assessment of paper towels. The main problem here is that there’s so much variation in how rolls are produced, starting with how the trees are harvested. The vast majority of American paper towels begin life in well-managed commercial timberlands, where trees are replaced after harvest, so deforestation isn’t a pressing issue. But one must account for the fossil fuels expended on machinery and log transport. Then there is the energy-intensiveness of the pulping process, which can result in the emission of harmful pollutants into nearby waterways. One must also consider the cost of trucking the towels from manufacturer to client, a data point that will vary widely according to the restroom’s distance from the paper mill. (Yes, dryers must be transported in this manner, too, but far less frequently, given how long each one lasts.)

The problem here is the experience of anyone who uses public restroom — the technology of hand-washing and hand-drying never abides for more than 18 months. I have long wondered, after seeing soap dispensers and paper towel holders and electric dryers come and go, how often the salesmen for these items visit bar and restaurant owners to push a new line of advanced products. We have long had a crisis in hand-drying and no one, not even the neo-Calvinists, seem to care!

Maybe the best option is for all of us to imitate professional golfers and carry around our own personal hand towel.

Taking Every Square (Liquid) Ounce Captive

Published on by D. G. Hart52 Comments

In honor of the series running over at TGC on pastries, Old Calvinists may be in the mood for a post that has less to do with flour and more with peat. The following is also a confirmation of a point made one student this morning during discussion of Progressivism and Prohibition. I had not heard this before, but legend has it that Laphroiag was on sale throughout the 1920s because no one believed anyone who was not sick would drink it:

This Scotch whisky carries an interesting story with it. During Prohibition in the United States, Laphroaig was still allowed to import their whisky at its cask strength as cough medicine because the United States government deemed the whisky too strong and medicinal to be consumed recreationally.

Here is how one Scotch-drinker describes Laphroiag:

This to me is the most immediately identifiable nose in the realm of Scotch whisky—beast-like, phenolic, wheelbarrels of iodine, sea salt, nonstop peat and kippers—and as if the medicinal tidal waves aren’t enough, beneath them lies a thin layer of fino sherry—is this loutish nose too much? why am I reaching for a rifle?—on palate, the peat reek is so thick I have to scrape it off my tongue with a spatula; the three-alarm smokiness leaves scant room for anything else—I wonder if there is anything else in terms of flavor—maybe it’s just peat, smoke, peat, smoke; I appreciate the damn-the-torpedoes character of this burly brat, but if I were stranded on that proverbial island with only one single malt, Laphroaig 10 most definitely would not be my choice; make sure you have a whip and a chair handy after you open this beastie; my biggest objection to this malt is, what does a newcomer to malts think if they happen to try this five-alarm malt before tasting other, tamer, more elegant malts? Do you lose that person forever?

For (all about) me, the older I get, the more peat, hops, pepper, garlic, Honduran leaf, the more I enjoy. Is this a sign that tastebuds are wearing out?

Where You Can't Buy a Vowel

Published on by D. G. Hart23 Comments

I have some Welsh in me from my mother’s side but then again so do most people who have a Jones in the family. While singing in church I have long observed the similarities between Welsh and Hebrew, as in both languages feature consonants. Here are the top ten Welsh hymn tunes according to one list compiler:

PANTYFEDWEN (TYDI A WNAETH Y WYRTH)
FINLANDIA (DROS GYMRU’N GWLAD)
BRO ABER (O TYRED I’N GWAREDU)
DIM OND IESU (O FY IESU BENDIGEDIG)
RHO IM YR HEDD (Rhys)
LAUSANNE (IESU IESU RWYT TI’N DDIGON)
CALON LAN (NID WY’N GOFYN BYWYD MOETHUS)
CWM RHONDDA (WELE’N SEFYLL RHWNG Y MYRTWYDD)
BUILTH (RHAGLUNIAETH FAWR Y NEF)
PRICE (I GALFARIA TROF FY WYNEB)

I’d love to see anyone of these featured on Wheel of Fortune.

Now it turns out the Quaker descendants of the Welsh in the suburbs of Philadelphia are abandoning vowels altogether:

Bryn Mawr College is announcing today that it is dropping the vowels from its name and questioning the use of vowels generally. The college will now be known as Brn Mwr. The move is being described as the first major initiative of the college’s new president, Kim Cassidy. A statement from Cassidy said: “This is the age of Twitter, every character counts. And really, what’s the difference, no one can pronounce our name anyway.” The college also announced plans for an academic conference related to the institution’s new skepticism of vowels. The conference is “The Hegemony of the Vowel: Incontinence and Lipogrammatics.” One of the planned sessions is “The Habermasian Response: Communicative Ir-Rationality?”

I am speechless (that’s with 3 e’s).