Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Fagan's translation of Homer's Iliad is on cassette. I got it out of the library at Vidalia yesterday. Bon voyage!

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

This months's National Geographic includes an article and one of their great maps. From the latter I was pleasantly surprised to discover that in our great state of Georgia, we have two state-recognized Cherokee communities and a Tama reservation. Now, before I head out to do much delayed and overdue paperwork for my ESL class, I'll peruse the Eastern Cherokee site which is situated in the Georgia Appalachian hill country.

Are the Tama related to the Sauk and Fox of Iowa's Tama county?

A busy day looms ahead for me. If it isn't a busy day, work is piling up for me somewhere.

Overcoming another cold. What is it with these last three weeks? Seems I get over one, or start to get over one and catch another or relapse into a cold. Yesterday's Savannah Morning News reported tree and grass pollens as moderate. Maybe it's worse here. How do you measure this anyway? Does any reader know? Pray tell us.

I think that the current war(s) our United States of America is in have influenced a popularity in literature which has military themes. Among the war literature is one I found on the bargain table at Brewton Parker, a Dover Thrift Edition of WWI British Poets. So far the one I like best is Charles Hamilton Sorley (1895-1915). Here's one of his:

To Germany

You are blind like us. Your hurt no man designed,
And no man claimed the conquest of your land.
But gropers both through fields of thought confined
We stumble and we do not understand.
You only saw your future bigly planned,
And we, the tapering paths of our own mind,
And in each other's dearest ways we stand,
And hiss and hate. And the blind fight the blind.

When it is peace, then we may view again
With new-won eyes each other's truer form
And wonder. Grown more loving-kind and warm
We'll grasp firm hands and laugh at the old pain,
When it is peace. But until peace, the storm
The darkness and the thunder and the rain.

Friday, September 17, 2004

Today we recognize that summer has ended, and today autumn has begun. Last time I entered a web log was the day of Mexican and Guatemalan Independence. I passed a big part of the day on the roadlast Wednesday, either travelling to Annie's school, or to J.D. Dickens Elementary to do in-class observation, or from there to Brewton Parker for help on my writing essays for class, or back east and south to Who-ville to teach Who-ish as a Second Language.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Rosh Hoshanah! Feliz Dia de la Independencia! I passed a big part of the day on the road, either travelling to Annie's school, or to J.D. Dickens Elementary to do in-class observation, or from there to Brewton Parker for help on my writing essays for class, or back east and south to Who-ville to teach Who-ish as a Second Language.

We went off-line so that I could place a telephone call to wish Abuelita a Happy Dia de la Independencia. You see, she is from Mexico. Oh, she's been an American citizen for years now, since the days of George Herbert Walker Bush.

Before I publish and go to bed, here's a link to a site from which you can select Independence Day post cards.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

I woke up in the middle of the night, having dreamt a dream of an attempt to escape some catastrophe. My dream had a hip hop sound track. Anyway, I need to study for the big test later today in Exceptional Children, a class I am taking at Brewton Parker.

These are the six principlesof IDEA--the Individuals with Disabilites Education Act of 1975, which govern the education of students with disabilities:
1) Zero reject: this is a rule against excluding any student.
2) Non-discriminatory evaluation: schools are required to evaluate students fairly to determine if they have a disability, and if so, what kind and how extensive.
3) Appropriate education requires schools to provide individually tailored education for each student based on the evaluation and augmented by the related services and supplementary aids and services;
4) The least restrictive environment rule requires schools to educate students with disabilites with students without disabilites to the maximum extent appropriate for the students with disabilities.
5) Procedural due process provides safeguards for students against schools' actions, including a righto to sue in court;
6) Parental and student participation is a rule which requires schools to collaborate with parents and adolescent students in designing and carrying out special education programs.

I'm worried that I may not pass this course. Of course, I 'd better. I'm already teaching evenings, and I need the certification to increase our income. My kids need the income more than I.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Aaron Hawkins died last weekend. I didn't know him, but apparently he had gained fame through his writings. I suspect he was active in other circles in Chicago. Woods-a-lot posted this very same handsome photograph of the man, which was taken by his sister. I think I shall be reading his postings for days to come, as his wit is sharp and immortal.

Friday, September 10, 2004

I've just been reminded of the Foucault's pendulum, while looking at a web site for Macon's Museum of Arts and Science.

Have any of you ever read the novel, Foucault's Pendulum, by Umberto Eco? I remember fondly reading this book, but was it when I lived in Memphis or while I was staying in Bethel, on the tundra of the Yukon Kuskokwim Delta area in SW Alaska?

I came across the book, again in paperback form, in an MWR tent in Camp Pennsylvania on the desert in northern Kuwait, after my first stint in the Iraqi War of OIF.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

I've stayed up way past my bed time. There's a nervous knot in the muscle by the right rear of my neck. One of the trapezoid or trapezius, isn't it?

The last couple or three days I've been reading from Book VI of Publius Vergilius Maro's Aeneid, and have been wondering at the names and lore concerning the rivers of Hades and Tartarus.

Let's see, now there's Styx, Acheron, Cocytus, Phegethon, and Lethe. Did I get them all? You can read about them in a wonderful article I found in Wikipedia, the free online encyclopaedia.

I also found a good little review of Book VI by John Conington in a link of the Perseus Project.

I thank G-d for having so far escaped any tornado, but we're not out of the storm yet, or it's not past us yet.

Sunday, September 05, 2004

I'm listening again to Gyla Gonzalez on her Hispanic music show, Latin Beat. She is da bomb. There are few women that make me wish I could clone myself and convince my clone to go court her. Or that I were single and young again. She has one of the sexiest voices I've ever heard in my life.

As far as I can tell, she produces her show in Atlanta. If there's a man who has her heart, he's very lucky.

And her choice of music and news is very good. I hope she goes far. Well I'd be surprised if she didn't.

I've never been the one to consider myself a fan of cinema stars. But I can see myself trying to learn more about this radio commentator and producer.

Waltzing Matilda

Oh! There once was a swagman camped in the Billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolabah tree;
And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matildah with me?

“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, my darling,
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda and leading a water-bag,
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”

Down came a jumbuck to drink at the water-hole,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him in glee;
And he sang as he put him away in his tucker-bag,
“You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!”

Down came the Squatter a-riding his thoroughbred;
Down came Policemen—one, two and three.
“Whose is the jumbuck you’ve got in the tucker-bag?
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”

But the swagman, he up and he jumped in the water-hole,
Drowning himself by the Coolabah tree;
And his ghost may be heard as it sings in the Billabong,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”

—Andrew Barton “Banjo” Paterson,

Roff Smith got a very good article published in National Geographic this August, with photographs by David Allan Harvey. I've never heard of these two guys, but I'm enjoying reading this article, a little at at time, given my life with these two little kids, a wife, three jobs, and a surviving desire to become a published writer myself.

Saturday, September 04, 2004

Less than five minutes to the witching hour. I'm up perusing google hits of "Aeneid + blog." I enjoyed D Kennedy's review of some translations of the Aeneid.

Just read a fascinating thread in Em's livejournal comparing Homer and Virgil to fan fiction. Apparently another intellectual New York blog. But I like it. And I would ask Em, but don't have the time tonight (it's already almost quarter till one a.m.) what the hell is slash writing?

Following a couple of links led me to another livejournal blog with a thread about RPG's. What the ****? There's happenings in literature, theatre, or somewhere in ivory tower/campus life that has just grown beyond my comprehension...

Am trying to leave comments for Pezboy's inane entry on the books he read this summer. His blog comments link takes too **** long to load. He says he 'read' the Iliad, Odyssey, and Aeneid for a mythology class. Somewhere near Urbana, Illinois, I gather. He's such an airhead, but a prolific blogger. Maybe he'll make stand-up comic.

Time to knock this off. Look at the time! - (80

The copy of the Aeneid that I've been reading is a verse translation by Frank O. Copley, from the Lirary of Liberal Arts, published by Bobbs-Merrill in New York and Indianapolis. The Library of Congress number is 65-26526.

Book V begins thus:

...Aeneas held a mid-sea course,
steadily cutting dark water before the wind,
A glance astern showed luckless Dido's walls,
glowing with flame. What set a fire so vast
could not be seen- but passion wronged means pain.

What an amazing chapter, that book IV! Especially impressionable for me is the image of Dido on her funeral pyre, the sword still in her stuck under the breastbone. Or that's where I would think she would have thrust it.

This is a late morning for me, again. Well, it's Saturday. I woke up early, ate some cereal with milk, and went to bed again. I was sick. Let the body and mind heal while sleeping.

We're going to drive across county to the animal shelter. Maybe also see the airport. Eat some barbeque or tacos and let Annie-Franck and myself speak Spanish. Wilma wants to come with us, bringing the little boy.

We're having trouble with our CD Rom and DVD drives today. Annie Franck couldn't exit from the Spanish program. It kept starting over, even when she clicked on exit.

Now I can't play that John Kerry DVD that MoveOn.org sent me.

We're listening to Whatdya Know?, a radio program from Madison, Wisconsin. It's played on Public Radio stations across the USA.