Tuesday, October 27, 2009

It's Almost That Time Again...

I had considered coming home this weekend, but I had too much going on here for that to be possible, so I will go back to Austin on Halloween weekend for the first time since moving to college. Usually, nothing particularly noteworthy occurs during the week, but I had another eventful weekend, starting on Friday night.

Christopher West, renowned Theology of the Body speaker, came to Texas A&M to deliver a presentation titled "The Longing." I was pleased that there was a large turnout and that both Trever and Seth came along. I was also happy to see my friend Ciera from my church at home. A group of Catholics from Texas State had come up that evening to attend the event, and I hadn't seen her for a couple months (which is hard to believe). I thought West's delivery was excellent, although most of it was what I'd heard in the videos I've been watching in my Theology of the Body study group, and I'm pretty sure he was preaching mostly to the choir, but maybe there were some people in the audience who hadn't heard the "revolution" yet.

I had to leave early because my friend Anna had invited me to see Where the Wild Things Are. I don't remember much from the children's book, which is apparently only about nine sentences long. It's strange yet kind of amazing how many movies are based off of books these days and how many are based on extremely simple children's books with hardly any plot to develop for two hours. My reaction to the film is mixed: Overall, I suppose I enjoyed it, but it was a very bizarre movie. It has some very touching moments, but the plot is kind of boring; I did crack up at some occasions simply because of the complete unexpectedness of certain scenes. As the movie became stranger and stranger, Anna turned to me at one point and said (jokingly), "Am I high? Stop putting drugs in my drinks." It could just be that Where the Wild Things Are was never a favorite of mine in childhood, but I preferred the film adaptations of Charlotte's Web and Horton Hears a Who much more.

When I returned to my room, I did my laundry then since I would not have time the next day. While I was waiting for my laundry, I wanted to try out a new piece of music I'd just printed-- lately, I've been really in love with Chopin's Nocturnes-- but I was very disappointed to be beaten to the piano in the All Faith's Chapel nearby by only seconds by a guy with a ponytail wearing a bathrobe. I waited for about half an hour (the length of a washing cycle) while he and a girl plunked out a pretty discordant duet they were working on, despairing how pathetic it was that I couldn't even find a free piano at midnight on a Friday night (when, I assume, most people are out getting drunk and hardly thinking of classical music).






Anyway, I got up earlier than usual on Saturday to go to Bryan in order to attend a writers conference that I had heard about from the municipal liaison of the Austin region for NaNoWriMo (more about NaNo below). There weren't many people there (it is Bryan, after all), but I did meet the very kind and noble Ms. Renée Giroux whose business, Stimulating-Conversation, sponsored the event. While she does not feel the call to write stories herself, she does feel it is her mission to help writers market themselves as effectively as they can in order to bring the stories they have to tell into the world. In an industry where there are many predators seeking to prey upon unsuspecting writers, I was heartened to meet someone who is using her talents to make her corner of the world just a little bit better. I also met a writer (Dawn Ireland) from Houston who gave a presentation about critique groups and was kind enough to actually give me a copy of her book The Puppy Baby Book. I also delivered a speech about National Novel Writing Month since it's right around the corner, and I was happy to find other people who were interested in the event. Overall, the writers conference allowed me to meet some other creative people and learn a few things, not to mention I got to bring home a free box of donuts.

After the writers conference, Anna picked me up and we went with our friend Carly from French Club to the new frozen yogurt place called Spoons. It was a sort of French Club outing, although Anna's original messages sent via Facebook arrived a day late, and there was a discrepancy between the times mentioned, so people kept showing up randomly. Still, it was really good frozen yogurt and a good time was had by all.

On Sunday afternoon, I went with Anna (again) to a really neat European-style café not too far away called Sweet Eugene's and spent most of the day there attempting to do homework until about 6:00. Carly was there, too, as well as Nicolas, a French exchange student from Paris I have met through St. Mary's. After Sweet Eugene's, Anna, Nicolas, and I went to the nearby Fazoli's for dinner, and I haven't been to a Fazoli's for a long time, so it was especially good.

All in all, not an extremely productive weekend, but I fortunately didn't have too much work to do. I am, however, trying to knock out two papers before they're even due in November so that I will have as much time as possible next month to work on National Novel Writing Month. I can't believe October is almost over and another year has come and gone since I last celebrated this annual frenzy of literary abandon. It's going to be difficult this year especially now that I'm in college and my schedule is so full all the time, but having "won" by achieving my goal of 50,000 words each year since 2006, I can't let my winning streak die. Fortunately, I've been planning my story for this November for a while, although I still don't feel entirely prepared; still, that's part of the challenge and excitement of NaNo, and now, there is less than a week until the madness recommences! I'll be in Austin to attend the midnight countdown on Halloween with my fellow Austinite wrimos (yay team Lushguins!), but for now, while the thunder is rumbling on the horizon, I'd better buckle down and tidy up what work I can do now before the real storm breaks.
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Saturday, October 17, 2009

Obama Comes to Texas A&M


This week passed by fast, even though nothing really exciting happened except for probably the third round of tug-o'-war between hot, humid weather and another cool front since the start of autumn.

Oh, and the sitting president of the United States of America visited my school.

The cooler weather wasn't the only thing to arrive on Friday morning; today was finally the day everyone has been talking about for the past month. At the invitation of former President George H.W. Bush, President Barack Obama visited Texas A&M University to commend community service and volunteerism at a forum hosted by the Thousand Points of Light Institute founded by the former President Bush during his term.

When I initially learned about the president's visit to our campus, I had planned to attend the speech in Rudder Auditorium until I found out it was an invitation-only event, open to about 2,500 people. I wasn't too happy about the exclusivity of the event; after all, it seems pointless for a sitting president to visit a college campus if the students can't see him. But, actually, it may have worked out for the better this way, as I was free to wander about the activities taking place and enjoy the beautiful weather.

Almost forgetting to take my camera with me as I walked out the door this morning, I fortunately remembered to grab it just in time. Just across the street from where my fencing class is, some metal fences had been erected along the sidewalks near Rudder Tower, where the president would be speaking, and many news crews had already arrived.

(Click pictures for larger image)
I had received an email informing the campus that the security perimeter around Rudder Tower would be established at 11:00 AM, so I was curious about how I'd get back to the north side of campus after fencing, which ended at around 11:30. I came out of my building and overheard some girls talking about the event and ended up joining their conversation (that's one of the neat things about Texas A&M-- you can talk to almost anyone-- and one of the girls was actually in my French class). Anyway, while we were talking, the protesters' rally was getting set up in Spence Park across the street (although it was well out of the way of Rudder), and we saw a group of police on bikes arrive (which brought back memories of Paris for me particularly).



I was slightly annoyed that the rather brusque, outsider community personnel forced me (and several other people) to take a much longer detour around the campus to get to my French class. But it gave me a reason to go out of my way and see more of parts of the campus I hardly visit, not to mention see just how large of a barrier had been set up. Basically, the entire block that the Rudder Tower complex sits on was surrounded by metal fences and wherever a street led towards the building, several yellow-jacketed security personnel would ward away curious-- or oblivious-- pedestrians.




I was in classes until about 4:00, when the president was scheduled to deliver his speech. I had figured if I couldn't see it in person, I'd at least watch it via streaming, so I went to the nearby library and tried to do so, but the buffer stream was too slow, and what it did show was not the president, but a bunch of other people discussing community service at the forum. Out of boredom and curiosity (and the fact that the library was empty on a beautiful Friday afternoon), I decided to head back over to the park to see how the rally was coming along.

Ironically, I ran into the same girl from my French class waiting with a friend along the side of one of the roads (which would later be where the motorcade left the campus, but more about that later). Going across the street to the rally turned out to be a time-wasting diversion, but at least it was pleasant outside-- and there were dogs.

Personally, I can't stand most of President Obama's policies, but the rally was rather out of place today, as his presence on the campus was mainly to promote community service, not politics. Even though I myself am fairly conservative, I had intended to attend the president's speech anyway, and I felt, at the worst, embarrassed by the protesters and at best, bemused by their campaigning. Most of the content of the signs and speeches denounced big government, socialism, and Obamacare, all of which I can empathise with, but I wandered away from the gathering feeling bored, indifferent, and slightly annoyed (even though I thought these posters were amusing).

I ended up standing with my writer friend, Lauren, along the street and had an interesting, enlightening, and-- blessedly-- civil conversation with her about the whole affair. She's black and identifies herself as falling to the liberal end of the spectrum, though only moderately, just as I feel that I fall moderately to the right of the spectrum. But the most fortunate thing I learned is that we both agree that abortion is wrong (having no conservative shirts, I wore my 40 Days for Life t-shirt today, just in case Obama happened to see me).

Well, he just might have seen me, if only for a split second as the motorcade passed. More exciting, though, was that I actually saw him through the window of one of the black suburbans. I was pretty astonished, actually, because I had only just learned less than an hour before where to stand to see the cars pass and I thought it would be impossible to pick out which vehicle he was riding in. That's the whole point of having several identical vehicles in a line anyway, or so I thought. Still, I only just managed to realize that it was indeed him waving through the window of the third suburban (which, interestingly, passed on the far side of the road from where we were allowed to stand.)

Even though, like I said, I'm not a terrible supporter of ol' B. Hussein Obama, it was still exciting being that close to the sitting president and actually seeing him in person for the first time, although, honestly, I felt a little unsettled hearing the enthusiastic cheers of some of the people down the street. You'd think we were witnessing Jesus entering Jerusalem sitting on an ass. Well, the analogy can only stretch so far... Anyway, the closest I've probably been to a sitting president (no, not on an ass-- whether one conscripted by the state in the name of socialism or on his own-- or in a nondescript, black suburban, smart aleck) was when I was in Washington, D.C. several years ago and I saw the White House from a distance.



Long after the procession had passed, I made my way back to the library with Lauren, but on the way, I spied what could only have been the attendees of the forum all congregated around the entrance to Rudder, as well as the KVUE News van from Austin.

Later, I looked up some news articles about the event; I haven't yet had a chance to watch the entirety of the president's speech, but I'm not sure what I make of his remarks (here, taken from the Associated Press' report):

“While there’s plenty that government can and must do ... there’s a lot that government can’t and shouldn’t do and that’s where active, engaged citizens come in.”

Of course, in this instance, he was leading into a commendation, even a commissioning, one might daresay, of community service. But I think the president would do well to reflect upon his words here in light of his political agenda, as well.

After witnessing the pithy protest on campus today, then beholding Barack himself in person, then reading the (depressingly) volatile comments beneath any political news story, I come away from today not quite sure what I feel:

Disgust at the petty, emotional divisions that separate us as people blindly (and lazily) seek to identify with something larger than themselves instead of trying to be larger than any one political party, excitement at the prospect of seeing a sitting U.S. President and having the honor of the office on our campus, relief that it is still possible to find and discuss civilly with people who may not be exactly like you but share a common revulsion for extremism and willingness to work for what is good, and pride for my country and state as I see people actively engaged in the political life of their nation.

I may have felt a bit adrift, as I couldn't fully identify with either hysteric groups-- either the president's detractors or his groupies-- but I feel like I will remember this experience for a long time to come. And hey, at least they didn't throw eggs this time.
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Sunday, October 11, 2009

It Has Not Been the Best of Weekends


I'll try not to be too much of an empêcheur de tourner-en-rond-- a kill-joy-- but suffice it to say, this weekend was not the best. Things could always be worse, but then, they could always be better, too.

This weekend, two of my classmates from high school, whom I haven't seen for months, visited from Abilene. It was nice to see them and catch up, and I was fortunately able to find them in the cafeteria for dinner on Friday night. Now, I was supposed to go with them to the football game on Saturday, but this is where the first misfortune happened. You see, my friend Meghan (who was hosting them in her dorm room) collected our tickets during the week, so I was supposed to sit with them. However, I missed the game entirely because I had no idea that it was scheduled for 11:30 AM instead of the usual 6:00 PM. It was only at about 4:00 in the afternoon, after having spent most of the day diligently doing homework in the library in order to finish it before the game that night, that I discovered my mistake. And then I found out the Aggies lost, on top of it all. I just don't know why Meghan didn't call or text me, but I guess she was preoccupied during the game.

Then, this morning, my friend Evan was supposed to meet me for mass, but he was so late in coming that I had to resign myself to a spot in the adjacent chapel and watch it via camera and TV while he ended up going to the student activities center for the second, simultaneous overflow mass that started a bit later (St. Mary's is so full of people they have not only four different scheduled times on Sunday alone, but often two masses going on at one time during those timeframes). Anyway, this isn't the first time that I have tried to go to mass with people who have been late, and at our church, you have to get there decently early if you want a seat.

Speaking of mass, it was raining (and chilly) when I got out, so I rode my bike back to my room through the precipitation before going to lunch, where I ran into Meghan and L'nae before she had to leave for Abilene. While it was nice to be able to say goodbye to her, I learned something unsettling from Meghan.

I had been wondering if she would go to mass this weekend since she was hosting our two protestant friends. Apparently not. She told me they had gone to St. Thomas Episcopal church (I missed why that church specifically; I think Rebekah's brother goes there) and explained how it was similar to a Catholic liturgy, but their way of celebrating communion was different. Out of curiosity, I asked her if she had merely observed this difference or if she had also taken part in it, to which she replied nonchalantly that she had indeed participated in their communion service. I tried to point out, as graciously as I could, that she shouldn't have done that, but she insists that it's all about what one personally believes (one of the weakest relativist arguments I've ever heard). Immediately after that, I learned from her that while they had tried to find the Church of Christ here in College Station (L'nae and Rebekah are Church of Christ), she learned from our classmate Trever that his girlfriend was in town and that he and she were going to the service there but didn't have enough room in the car to take the girls as well.

A note to my non-Catholic readers: I am not making a case against you, here; I have a lot of respect for my brother and sister Christians, and I don't expect you to always agree with what I believe. My gripe here is with my fellow "Catholics" with whom I should at least be able to agree if we claim that name. What I am about to say is not meant to be exclusive or to draw boundaries out of an outdated sense of "us vs. them" but rather, to make an appeal to logic and the conviction of our faith (which I thought we shared).

You must understand that two of the most important things that make us Catholic are our obligation to attend mass each week and, most core of all to our faith, our belief in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. Without getting into the complexities of this doctrine, simply understand that to a Catholic, Holy Communion is not merely a symbolic meal, but a metaphysical, miraculous sacrament wherein we receive not bread and wine, but Jesus' precious body, blood, soul, and divinity and signify our spiritual communion with all of our Catholic brothers and sisters throughout the world AND history.

Ordinarily, non-Catholics are not allowed to receive communion at mass, although they are welcome to come forward to be blessed, and by the same token, Catholics are not to receive communion at non-Catholic churches because those churches are not really in full communion with ours, and to do so would compromise and scandalize our belief in the Holy Eucharist.

Additionally, Catholics are ordinarily obliged to attend mass at least once a week on the Sabbath (either Saturday night or any time on Sunday), and to willfully miss mass is a grave sin. This is not meant to be a dictatorial imposition. Rather, the Church, knowing what is best for our souls and entrusted to the guardianship of those souls and God's Truth until Jesus' return, in her wisdom has placed this obligation upon us for our benefit. I cannot speak for others, but for myself (and I should think for other Catholics who strive to strengthen their faith through its practice and reception of the sacraments), attending mass is a joyful opportunity, not an unpleasant burden I do out of a sense of fear or duty. It's the difference between "I've got to go to mass on Sunday" and "I get to go to mass on Sunday" (and indeed, every day of the week if one wished).

Basically, it distresses me (and to be honest, at first, it angered me) to hear that two people who profess to believe the same thing as me, apparently do not. I'm trying very hard not to be judgemental, as it is probably a case of a lack of true understanding on their part (isn't it always? "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."), but is it so much to ask that people at least put forth the effort to seriously contemplate what they do, in fact, believe? Personally, I've never been able to depend on any of my Catholic classmates in high school (except maybe one, occasionally) to help explain Catholic beliefs to those who wanted to know more, and I hate to be cynical, but this doesn't really surprise me that they continue in their apathy.

I hope that my readers will not mistake my sentiments as a condemnation on their part, but rather understand my deep sense of disappointment and betrayal. If you and some friends belonged to a club, but they started compromising the values and core mission of that club, wouldn't you feel the same? Only in this case, we are talking of no mere club or social organization, but religion, which I believe is one of the most polarizing topics of conversation simply because it is tied with our core values and helps define who we are.

I feel the same way about supposedly Catholic politicians (John Kerry, John Edwards, Ted Kennedy, Kathleen Sibelius, etc.). Why bother calling yourself something if you don't agree with it? Why not just leave? You'd be in good company: King Henry VIII, Martin Luther... Just please don't fragment the already shattered body of Christ more by basically living a lie. At least have the courtesy and the courage to say what you really believe and stop being a "cafeteria Catholic."

Anyway, I don't know if I should even say anything to them or not bother; it's one of my struggles, being charitable, but then again, do I even have a responsibility for them anyway? They're big kids now, and I'm tired of holding their hands, always being there to represent Catholicism to others so they don't have to do any work.

"Let him who has ears hear."
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Saturday, October 3, 2009

Designated Driver is Disappointed

Last night, my friend Anna from Linguistics class (who is also the president of the French Club) invited me to go to "First Friday," which is apparently supposed to be a sort of art bazaar in nearby downtown Bryan. I was envisioning something akin to what one might see at a Renaissance festival, and it sounded interesting enough, kind of like something I might be able to see at home in Austin.

Well, it wasn't much of a street market. Some aspects felt like Austin, like the plethora of liberal bumper stickers and several people that looked like they'd be more at home down on The Drag near U.T. than in College Station. But unfortunately, there wasn't much in the way of artsy/crafty stuff. One place we did stop at had a sort of artsy vibe to it based on the wall paintings, and it was fun to go outside to the alley and watch old people dance to oldies (especially since we had a French student from Normandy with us who had heard only some of the most famous songs and had his first Mexican food that night at dinner).









After stopping there, most of the others wanted to go to this "café" called The Revolution. I say "café" because it was one of the most dingy, oppressive dives I've ever visited, and they hardly serve coffee there. Set at the base of a creepy abandoned-looking building, there is a courtyard of sorts adjacent to the tiny interior, which is extremely dark and apparently one of the few places in Bryan that still allows indoor smoking. The "art" on the walls was well done, technically, but the mood from it was creepy and dark: entirely suitable for the place, but hardly what I'd call uplifting.


We then proceeded to stand in front of some very loud speakers to listen to one of the most God-awful ensembles I've ever had the displeasure to hear. At first, I was thinking "Oh, it's "indie;" I just need to give it a try." But by the end of the hour, I'd had more than enough of standing amidst the secondhand smoke from every other person in the courtyard, bearing what was basically what I can only describe as a bunch of juveniles enjoying making a lot of very loud, very discordant noise. Even Anna said it was terrible compared to her friend's band, and the French student said "la musique est nulle"-- or in other words, it's awful. Here is just a sample of what I endured; just remember, it was about fifty times louder, too:



At the risk of sounding scathingly patronizing and elitist, I just have to mount the soapbox and say that maybe I just don't fit in with that subculture, but after having worked painstakingly to interpret such composers as Bach, Chopin, Mozart, and Beethoven, watching a scruffy, drunkard thrash and stumble around the stage while yelling and pounding an electric keyboard and calling it "art" or "music" is almost like a slap in the face. It could be that I'm a perfectionist, but it just seems that it is often the truly talented who remain hidden while the mediocre are so desperate for attention they will do anything to get into the spotlight, no matter how half-baked it is. I like this quote by Claude Monet:

"Perhaps it's true that I'm very hard on myself, but that's better than exhibiting mediocre work... too few were satisfactory enough to trouble the public with."

Anyway, the girl who drove us insisted that she could take us back, but both Anna and I (who, thankfully, doesn't drink and exhibited good sense) agreed that one of us should drive. Since she doesn't like to drive, it ended up being me. Fortunately, getting back to campus was not overly difficult, and I think it no small coincidence that it was also the Feast of the Guardian Angels; I'm certain one was looking out for me, anyway. I've never had to be a "designated driver," and I don't plan on doing this regularly, but of course I'm much too concerned for my own safety to let that from stopping me if the need arises again. You live and learn.

Speaking of feasts, and on a bit of a more positive note... Since tomorrow is the Feast of St. Francis, St. Mary's held a blessing of the animals today, and since I miss my dog at home an awful lot, I went to the little ceremony this morning to get some canine companionship. It was fun to watch all the dogs interacting and it's amazing how many varieties of a single species there are. I'm so thankful that God gave us these little friends-- our brothers and sisters, as St. Francis would say-- and I can't wait until I can have a dog in my life again.