Rainy Day? Watch a Movie...One of these Movies

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I always feel like one of the most fun things to do on a rainy day (ahh, April showers...) is to curl up on the couch with some hot cocoa. On the other hand, sitting on a sofa sipping cocoa (or tea, or whatever you're into) and staring at the ceiling/wall gets boring for some people. For them, I suggest a nice book or movie. And since this is a blog about history (you know, when I occasionally write about things that are relevant to history), I want to pick out some of my favorite historical-type movies. They're a real grab bag/ mixed-up bunch, so feel free to pick whatever suits your needs (kids' movie, sad movie, comedy, etc.).

The King and I (1956): An awesome Rodgers and Hammerstein musical about the king of Siam and a British schoolteacher in the 1860s. I love the songs in the movie, I love the characters, I love the storyline. There are more modern versions, but I definitely recommend this one, because it is by far the best. Watch if you're in the mood for a musical.

The Young Victoria (2009): Watch if you're in the mood for something moving. It tells the story of a young Queen Victoria (okay not that surprising with the title and all), and how she meets her future husband (although I managed to forgot the actual historical fact that she married him when I was watching the movie and got all concerned she would pick someone else... not to ruin the plot or anything). It's incredibly well-done, but be prepared for some heart wrenching at the end.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975): Yes, it is ridiculous. However, it is very funny. If you haven't seen it, then you should definitely watch it- even if only to understand a variety of inside jokes stemming from the film. If you haven seen it, then watch it again!

Tristan and Isolde (2006): Starring James Franco (before he was famous- you might not even recognize him!) as a besotted English knight in love with an Irish princess who's been married off to the knight's lord. The story itself originated over a thousand years ago and is very Romeo and Juliet-ish. If you're looking for something romantic, but at a different pace than Young Victoria, this is a good pick.

Girl with a Pearl Earring (2003): I found this movie kind of unsettling, but maybe its a good one to tackle on a rainy day. Its about the Dutch painter Vermeer and stars Colin Firth and Scarlett Johansson. But since its about a Dutch master, and I've been neglecting the art side of this blog, I'll go ahead and pick it anyways. At least if you watch it, you'll end up feeling like you know more about Vermeer (no one will know you "learned" about him in a movie).

 A Knight's Tale (2001): Full of great rock music, and not nearly as dreary as many period films. This movie doesn't take itself too seriously and is fun to watch. Not terribly historically accurate, but a fun and funny choice.


Far and Away (1992): Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise star in this movie as Irish immigrants moving to America. This one is a bonus for US history buffs (Oklahoma land rush, anyone?).

Shanghai Noon (2002): Hilarious comedy with Jackie Chan and Owen Wilson. Full of really great immature jokes and possibly some history in there. Perfect if you're in the mood to see Jackie Chan cause accidental injury to himself and Owen Wilson make jokes about the Wild West. More fun for the American history people (sometimes all those British dramas get you down).

Memoirs of a Geisha (2005): This movie is beautiful, but very sad. Make sure you're really in the mood for it before you watch it, and maybe have some tissues on hand. It's about a girl growing up in Japan and being trained as a geisha. This movie shows the interesting clash between old and new in 20th century Japan as the result of WWII (and other factors).

Newsies (1992): Possibly my favorite movie ever made. This movie is about the 1899 newsboy strike in New York. Also, it is a musical (sorry, they're my favorite genre- note that I've mostly spared you from Disney movies and musicals in this list). It's upbeat and fun, and not a bad movie at all. Plus, a young Christian Bale sings- in a New York accent.

TV Series Honorable Mentions: The Tudors (of course), Pillars of the Earth (technically an 8-part miniseries), Manor House (a British documentary that sends people back in time- really!), Downton Abbey (a 7-part miniseries about British aristocracy in 1912)

Period Pieces I Strongly Suggest You Skip: Clash of the Titans (2010), Kingdom of Heaven (2005), Casanova (2005), Marie Antoinette (2006)

Happy movie watching!

Flight Attendant Humor

The newest thing in air travel is "humorous" flight attendants (don't believe it? I just spent approx. 15 hours on a variety of airplanes with a variety of flight attendants who thought they were funny). Now, I certainly am not against a little humor being injected into my day,  but I'm not really sure I want my laughs in flight attendant form.

I mean, first off, I'm only on an airplane because I mean to do business- traveling business. No one just hops a plane for the entertainment value of it all. If I wanted a quick laugh, I have YouTube for that. Second, I'm not really sure how much human interaction I want on the airplane. One measly flight attendant joke is the first step to me being stuck talking to an elderly woman for the rest of the six hour flight (It isn't fun...and you can't ignore them because you are forced to stay there, trapped in your seat...listening to an old lady talk about her fifteen thousand grandchildren...for the whole flight... Avoid eye contact!)

Humor is also a trciky thing (that flight attendants should leave well enough alone), because not everyone takes everything the same way. One flight attendant might make a ridiculously cheesy joke that has you rolling your eyes and thinking "please, please take the microphone away from her... my electronic devices aren't approved for another twenty minutes, so I can't tune this absurdity out with my ipod." On the other hand, the jokey flight attendant might just snark at all the passengers under a guise of humor, which is no fun either (this is what my flight attendant did all day yesterday). Sarcasm and dry humor are cool and all, but not really when you're on an airplane and the person making fun of you is your flight attendant. (You wouldn't be allowed to snark at her, why does she get to make fun of us?)

Moral of the story: leave the jokes to the captain (because no one can argue with him- he's flying the plane, plus he's all cooped up in the cockpit and none of us will see him). I appreciate the attempt to amuse passengers from the flight attendant (sort of? not really),  but it's just not what I'm looking for in my cross-country flight.

Leaving on a Jet Plane... and Age-ism

I remember that song from hearing it at camp a bunch of times... but I always thought it was sad because John Denver sings it...and didn't reach his demise in an airplane crash- so he actually did leave on a jet plane (don't know if I'll come back again)? And that just makes it sad.

Anyways- I will be away Friday-Sunday, so I will be remiss in my blogging. Many apologies to people who read! You are out there, right? Probably...maybe? Anyways, I promise to jump back in on Monday with a new Artwork and Quote of the Week. Maybe I'll even find something interesting to write about while I'm in Las Vegas. (Clearly the best choice of destinations for the Easter holiday. Quick- can you name the seven deadly sins? Now do it in Latin! Go!)

On a side note- did you know you have to be 18 to buy cold medicine? I got IDed at the CVS (its a drugstore, for those of you reading from the West Coast) the other day. The CVS clerk is harassing me about my ID and all I can think is: "Honestly? My nose is running, I've sneezed four times since I entered the store, I can't stop coughing and my voice sounds funny from me being all congested- what do you think I'm up to buying cold medicine? Probably just trying to get rid of my cold! I'm not cooking up drugs or anything, sheesh. Leave me alone, I'm just sick- I'm not about to peddle cold remedies to "underage" 17 year olds." Need I mention it was Theraflu? Its not like I even was trying to buy pills. Theraflu is a powder you add to water to make Flu-tea...I wouldn't know how to cook that into its druggie constituent parts even if I wanted to (which I don't). I just want some relief from my cold/flu. Sheesh. The US is such an age discriminatory place. Apparently you can't even buy cold medicine until you're 18. And of course, one of my biggest peeves- you can't rent a car in the US until you are 25 (seriously? I will have been driving for 9 years at that point, sheesh). In order to rent the really nice cars at rental places, you have to be even older- one of the cars you had to be 41 years old. You could practically be President before they'd let you rent this car. What is the world coming to???

You Know What's Cool? Siege Machines.

Okay, war and war-related stuff usually isn't my thing, but this snazzy invention is a pretty cool solution to the problem of fortifications. I was watching the movie Kingdom of Heaven yesterday (really bad movie- I recommend NOT watching it. Orlando Bloom really cannot carry a movie by himself), and the only redeeming thing about the movie was the interesting Medieval battle scenes. Historical inaccuracies aside, at one point, the city of Jerusalem is being besieged by Saladin's forces and they use these awesome siege machines/towers.

Now, I don't know about you, but in my imagination, Medieval fortifications are really tough to get past- I mean that was the whole point of fortifications anyways, wasn't it? Once they started incorporating flaming trebuchets and stuff (and later, explosives and guns), it made it way easier to break into giant, well-fortified castles, but before then, castles must have seemed almost impenetrable, right? Well, my imagination forgot to consider siege machines, which really are a brilliant answer to the problem of high stone walls.

So what is it? A siege machine is a big rolling tower with troops on it. The attacking army rolls it up the the fortified walls and when it gets close enough, releases a wooden bridge-type thing from the top of the tower. The attacking troops then stream across the bridge and into the fortified castle/city. Brilliant! The craziest part is that Medieval people didn't think this up- siege machines have been around since the 9th century BC! The first recording of siege machines is in Assyria, from approx. 865-860BC.

Assyrian siege machine, 865-860 BC. British Museum.

Because they worked so well, everybody and their cousin used to use siege machines. In addition to the Assyrians, ancient Chinese people, Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Medieval English people, and both sides in the Crusades all used siege towers in their various wars and conflicts.

19th century drawing of a Medieval English siege machine.

I'm thinking that pretty much the only thing that could stop a siege machine would be...a moat. Kind of hard to roll over that, huh? You'd have to build a bridge over the moat in order to get your siege machine past. Or you could build your castle on the side of a cliff or a mountain, which would also make it hard to roll a siege machine.

Regardless, I definitely think that siege machines are one of the coolest things ever- and they must have worked pretty well if they were used by tons of different cultures over thousands of years.

Historical Hotties: Empress Matilda/Maude

Empress Matilda (also known as Matilda of England or Maude- I prefer Maude) is a pretty awesome historical hottie in my opinion. She predates Eleanor of Aquitaine (who I wrote about a while ago) by a generation or two- maybe this is where Eleanor got all of her ideas?

Maude/Matilda is the granddaughter (and last heir) of William the Conqueror. Her dad was King Henry I of England, who proclaimed her heir presumptive in the event of his death. Born February 7th, 1102, little Maude got down to business fast. She was betrothed to the Holy Roman Emperor Henry V at age 8 and married to him when she was only 12 (that had to have been weird...her dad and her husband had the same name- and her husband was 16 years older than her). She was Empress of the Holy Roman Empire until 1127, when Henry V died. A few years later she married Geoffrey of Anjou in order to create an alliance between Anjou and Normandy (at least his name wasn't Henry). While with Geoffrey, Maude had three kids, one of whom got to be King of England (good work, Mama).

Look at that Medieval vixen- you can even see her hair! What's next- ankles?

Now, it might be true that she was responsible for a succession crisis known as the "anarchy" after the death of her dad, King Henry I, in 1135. Although she had a brother who was supposed to succeed her dad, he died 15 years before in the White Ship Disaster (sounds interesting, doesn't it?). Thus, little Maude (the only legitimate child of King Henry) was named heir. Despite her royal lineage, a lot nobles were pretty ticked off that a woman would rule England; Stephen of Blois was one of those people- he pretty much thought the throne was his. Unfortunately, the succession crises ended with Stephen on the throne of England, not Maude (this plays out as an extremely interesting sub-plot in the awesome Starz mini-series Pillars of the Earth, based on the Ken Follett novel).

After giving up the battle for the throne in 1141 (its cool, her son got to be king anyways), she retired to Normandy until her death in 1167. She was originally buried in the Abbey of Bec-Hellouin, but her body was moved to Rouen Cathedral in the 19th century (Why? Ew! Leave the poor woman alone, she's been dead for 700 years, sheesh.) Her epitaph reads: "Great by Birth, Greater by Marriage, Greatest in her Offspring: Here lies Matilda, the daughter, wife, and mother of Henry." Do you think her son wrote it?

What? An American?! New Artwork/ Quote of the Week 4.17.2011

Things I secretly like that do not involve ancient history, the Middle Ages, or churches (yes, these things do exist): puppies. They are undeniably cute and adorable, and overall very hard to resist. However, apart from the occasional pick-me-up check up on Cute Overload, I really think that pictures of cute things don't have a place in art. Proudly displayed on t-shirts for young children? Sure thing. But great big canvases of fluffy puppies? Not so much.

That being said, I really like the "Blue Dog" paintings by George Rodrigue. Rodrigue, a painter from Louisiana (American alert! American alert!), claims that his inspiration for the first blue dog painting in 1984 was  the spooky Cajun legend of the loup-garou. However, over time the Blue Dog got friendlier looking (no red eyes) and his creator depicted him all over the bayou.

Shade of The Shadows, George Rodrigue. Blue Dog Series. 2011.

You have to admit, Blue Dog is pretty cute. But maybe I'm biased- the Blue Dog looks just like a corgi my family had when I was little. Loved that dog.

There is also a connection between Rodrigue's Blue Dog and the political "Blue Dog Democrats", a group comprised of conservative Democrats in Congress formed in 1995 as a response to the congressional elections. Although some members of the group claim to have coined it themselves (everybody wants to think they started something), the group frequently met in a Louisiana senator's office, in which there were several of Rodrigue's Blue Dog paintings.

And now for a new Quote of the Week!

We all know that art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize truth, at least the truth that is given us to understand. The artist must know the manner whereby to convince others of the truthfulness of his lies. 

 -Pablo Picasso (1881-1973), Spanish painter and founder of the Cubist movement

Hrm, a very interesting quote. Also slightly confusing, but I'm sure I'll eventually get it if I think about it a while longer... maybe.

Reflections on Disney's Hercules

This post can now be found at the new hosting site (same Liber Lexica, new web address and look) at this address: http://liberlexica.wordpress.com/2011/09/19/reflections-on-disneys-hercules/ !!!

I recently re-watched the Disney movie Hercules (and by the I mean I recently sung along to the entire movie), and noticed some interesting (or not- depends on your definition of "interesting") things.

The first thing I noticed is that Baby Hercules starts the movie off as a blonde, then becomes a ginger when he becomes mortal (following Disney's plot, Hades tries to make Hercules mortal in order to kill him and eventually take over Olympus/the world). Hercules is the only ginger in all of ancient Greece. What are you trying to tell us Disney- that gingers are gods in mortal form? Statistically speaking, its pretty unlikely that Hercules was a ginger (granted, its highly unlikely Hercules actually ever existed at all- sorry to burst any bubbles there).

Second thing: Disney very much Disneyfied the Greek gods, especially Zeus and Hera. The movie portrays them as this 1950s-esque couple with trouble having kids. Then they produce the adorable baby Hercules and all of the gods rejoice on Mount Olympus. Greek myth doesn't exactly work that way though. A quick read of, well, basically anything involving Greek gods will let you know immediately that Zeus and Hera weren't married or in any way monogamous. In fact, Zeus had dozens of illegitimate children running around- some with other gods, some with mortal women. He also had this weird bestiality thing going on (swans and bulls, anyone?).

For another thing, did anyone else notice the 5-lady gospel choir that sings most of the songs in the movie (including three titled, "The Gospel of Truth")? As with ginger Hercules, you have to wonder why. Dear Disney, why is there a 5-lady gospel choir to sing us Hercules' tale? This is Greek myth, and thus predates the Gospels by a long time- and it predates gospel choirs by even longer. Also, why is one of the singing women short and fat when the rest of them are all lithe? Judging pretty hardcore right now Disney.

Also, Megara (clever naming reference to the Greek megaron?) is by far the most sexed-up Disney character ever. Deep voice, big hair, and an almost physically-impossible hip jut, her character is designed to... distract... Hercules. She spends a lot of time in the movie simpering all over the place). Apparently her character is based on the Greek tragic heroine Alcestis, who died to save her husband. She also (very strangely) has some sort of accent- New Jersey maybe? Why Disney? Why? I don't understand! In case you've forgotten (or never knew in the first place), here's what Meg and Hercules look like in the movie:

No big deal that Hercules is wearing the tiniest man-skirt ever. Anyways, there are parts of the movie that I really do like. For instance, the temple of Zeus near the beginning, where Hercules comes to find his way. Excellent job with the temple and giant cult statue. It could have looked more chryselephantine (gold and ivory) for authenticity, though. Great job and good movie regardless. I also approve of all the pottery-type animation (red figure and black figure), which is generally reserved for the songs in the movie.

And That's Why You Always Bring A Map

When traveling, you should always bring a map- you don't want to get lost far from home and end up getting stuck. As a tale of warning, I will tell you the story of a poor, poor traveler who forgot to bring his map:

One day long, long ago, there was someone traveling. He was very far from home (he was from the Norwegian Sea and was visiting South America) and was traveling with some of his buddies. One day on his travels he got very lost, and insisted he knew the way. His friends disagreed and left him sailing in the middle of the Antarctic Ocean all by himself. Because he had no map and no more money left over (and he lost his passport!), he was forced to settle in the Antarctic Ocean for the rest of time.

His buddies, incidentally made it back home to the Norwegian Sea. You might know them as the Shetland Islands (of Shetland Pony fame). The poor guy who got stuck in the Antarctic Ocean is known as South Shetland Islands (he's in denial). Luckily, he wasn't completed abandoned- the UK still claims both regular Shetlands Islands and the unfortunate South Shetland Islands. Just how far away is he from his pals? Pretty much exactly on the other side of the planet- so far that even Google Maps wouldn't calculate it for me (although that might have had something to do with the giant oceans in the way). To give you an idea of how close South Shetlands island are to Antarctica, here's a handy map:

As I'm sure you already figured out, the red dot is our friend South Shetlands. His jerk buddies who left him alone in the Antarctic are all the way up between England and Norway (opposite side of the planet).

The moral of the story here is a) don't travel with people who leave you alone in the Antarctic and b)don't travel without a map, or you will definitely turn into an island- a frigid island that people only visit to do research on ice cores.

Yeah, There's No Way I'm Saying That

Sometimes you can mispronounce things with grace and dignity (really, no one expects you to speak every language, and thus, when pronouncing things in foreign languages, people usually give you leeway). However, a great majority of the time, you just kind of look stupid when you mispronounce things (sorry Aunt Ginny for using the s-word). Occasionally, like when reading passages of Homer's Iliad or Hesiod's Works and Days (a more frequent occurrence for me than you'd think), you just have to acknowledge with grace that there's no way you are going to be able to pronounce that strange, strange word and just move on. You probably don't read ancient Greek stuff out loud very much (or maybe you do, in which case, I'm sorry for making assumptions), but I can think of lots of times in normal people's live where you come across something unpronounceable.

For instance, I was looking at my handy-dandy world map this morning (no, but really, my shower curtain has a map of the world, so I really was just looking at a map of the world leisurely this morning) and noticed a number of unpronounceable cities that I'm pretty sure I couldn't manage with any grace. For instance, Mongolia's bustling tourist metropolis of Dalandzadagad or the Russian isle of Severnaya Zemlya. I tried saying them, but it just kind of sounds like I've gotten a stutter (for the Mongolian one) or that I'm swallowing my tongue (for the Russian one). You might argue that you won't be visiting Mongolia or Russia anytime soon, but difficult to pronounce place names don't stop inside our borders. Take for instance the lovely town of Puyallup, where locals will look at you funny if you pronounce it wrong ( it's Pew-al-up, in case you were wondering). Another example is Pennsylvania's Schuylkill River. Unless you live here, you probably won't know how to pronounce it (and if you live here and can pronounce it, you probably don't remember how to spell it).

There's a whole world of mispronunciations out there waiting to make you seem silly. If you're willing to just power through and pronounce whatever it is completely wrong, more power to you (this is my mom's preferred method- hi mom). But if you're like me and are terribly afraid of looking dumb, then my best advice is just to keep quiet until you hear someone else say it. Or you can just completely avoid saying the name altogether (this is what pronouns and such were invented for).

Turns Out Japan Wasn't Isolationist After All: Faxecura Rocuyemon

Okay okay, someone is going to point out that Japan wasn't even claiming to be isolationist during this period, and I willingly acknowledge that ahead of time. Regardless, do you really already know about Spanish-Japanese relations in the early 1600s? If you did, then I'm really impressed. If you didn't, there's really no harm there, since I'm about to tell you about it.

Today I'll be writing about Faxecura Rocuyemon, also known as Hasekura Tsunenaga, who was a samurai and retainer for the daimyo Date Masamune. He was also the leader of the Japanese Embassy to Europe that happened over 200 years before the First Official Embassy to Europe in 1862. Not only did Hasekura travel to Spain and Europe, but he also managed to sail all the way to the New World (New Spain in particular). Here's a pretty handy map of his travels:

Unfortunately for Hasekura, he didn't pick the best time to represent Japanese interests abroad. First off, at this point, official Japanese policy (via the Shogun) was beginning to get rather anti-Catholic (a religion which is fairly popular in 17th century Spain, especially among the rulers). This ticked off the Spanish crown and they refused to sign any treaties with Japan. Thinking he could smooth things over with the Spanish and other Europeans, Hasekura converted to Catholicism, which is when he got the snazzy name of Francisco Felipe Faxicura (you'll note the various spellings- back then spelling was a free-for-all and no one really minded if the same word was spelled 80 different ways). He made a big impression on people with his frequent prayers are devotion to faith, but unfortunately did not manage to convince anyone to sign a treaty with Japan. When he finally returned back home to Japan from his perilous cross-planet journey, he immediately fell ill and died.

As I mentioned before, Japan was becoming increasingly anti-Catholic. After Hasekura's death in 1621, his son and a bunch of households servants were accused of being Christians and subsequently hanged. The Hasekura family had all its privileges revoked (ahhh, feudalism) and all their heretical Christian objects were taken away by the government (crosses, bibles, that sort of thing).

There's a ton of other interesting facts about him (including the fact that there are a lot of people running around in the Americas today with some version of the last name Japon (as in Hasekura de Japon). If you are still interested, I suggest you check out his Wikipedia site.

New Artwork/ Quote of the Week 4.10.2011

I really did mean to write a Saturday blog yesterday, but I somehow forgot. It a losing battle on the weekends to get things done sometimes, sorry guys. However, I will make it up to you today with a new artwork and quote of the week!

This week's artwork isn't modern, and it isn't medieval. We're taking it back this week- all the way back (okay, not 24,000 BC Venus of Willendorf "all the way back", but ancient Greece "pretty far back"). Thinking about it, I probably could have picked a more ancient artwork from ancient Greece, but whatever- I like the Geometric Period. And it's still pretty far back in time for most people- this week's artwork is from 760-750 BC. This wee's piece is the fairly recognizable Dipylon Vase:

Dipylon Vase, Dipylon Master. 760-750 BC. Dipylon Cemetery, Athens, Greece.

Clearly archaeologists are not good at thinking of creative names (at least in this instance- sorry archaeologists!) Anyways, this is a gigantic Geometric krater (that's the pottery shape for you non-classicists!) that was used in the 8th century BC as a grave marker. On it, interestingly, are burial and mourning-type scenes, and a lot of geometric designs (it was a big thing at the time- you know, being the Geometric Period and everything). Many regard this as the height of the geometric Period because the entire surface of the krater is covered in elaborate designs. Vases/kraters like these served to mark the graves of wealthy and illustrious individuals in Athens for a short span of about 20 years.

Since we've gone ancient for the Artwork of the Week, I though we might pay our respects to the ancients in the quote this week, too:

"The praise of ancient authors proceeds not from the reverence of the dead, but from the competition and mutual envy of the living."

 -Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), British Philosopher

Very clever indeed, Mr. Hobbes. I think this is his secret was of telling us that he is jealous of people like Aristotle, Plato, and Sophocles (among others). It's okay, Hobbes, we're all jealous of them. (Unless you are Stephen Hawking, in which case you know you are smarter than everyone else, even the "ancient authors".)

Three Easy Ways to Live in A Castle

Since the aristocracy is notoriously difficult for people to break into (especially pesky Americans), I've come up with some other ways for you to land yourself a spot at a castle. For this to work, you need to be one of these things:

1) Indigent (poor, homeless, etc.)
2) An Allied soldier/prisoner of war
3) Insane (err, mentally unstable?)

Now, I promise to explain, so hold your horses. These are all ways to be a resident of one castle in particular, Colditz Castle (doesn't that sound dreadful) in Saxony, Germany. Despite its dreary name, Colditz has a long (and illustrious? notorious?) history. The first Colditz Castle was built in 1158 for Thimo I with the permission of Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa (kingpin of the Third Crusade, and possessor of one of the most BA names ever). In 1404 the castle was sold to the Wettin dynasty and became part of Saxony. Since I know everyone loves cool names as much as I do, I'll let you know that during the 15th century, Colditz Castle was home to Frederick the Wise and Johann the Gentle, both Electors of Saxony.

Legend has it that in 1504, a servant named Clemens accidentally set the castle, church, and much of the town of Colditz on fire (I can't imagine that ended well for him). The castle's 16th century owners took that opportunity to do a lot of renovations to the castle and its design, changing and adding things in the Renaissance style (it even had a zoo!). In 1694, Augustus the Strong (the English should take a naming lesson from the Saxons) ordered a huge expansion of the castle, roughly doubling its size.

From 1803-1829 the Electors of Saxony (props to them for keeping hold of the castle for so many centuries) used the castle as a workhouse which provided food for the poor, the ill, and people under arrest. After that, the castle changed purposes again. From 1829 until 1924, Colditz served as a sanitarium (mostly reserved for wealthy people and the nobility).

At this point in history, things got a little crazy for Germany. The Nazis rose to power and took personal control over castles like Colditz. Being the generally nasty characters they were, the Nazis decided to use the castle as a prison for "undesirables" (which to them is, you know, pretty much everyone). When WWII got real, they started using the castle as a prisoner of war camp for captured Allied soldiers. This camp was reserved for particular tough cases: the people who landed in Colditz were either habitual escapees or trouble-makers from other camps (which does make them seem cooler, doesn't it?). Oflag IV-C, as the obsessively organized Nazis called Colditz, was designated as a high-security prison that the Germans thought pretty much impossible to escape from (owing to its geographic position). However, Colditz had one of the highest records of successful escape attempts for prisoners (possible because its prisoners were already the escapee-type). Today, you can still visit and see some of the tunnels they dug in order to escape.

In 1945, the Soviets captured Colditz and it subsequently because part of East Germany. The East Germans used the camp as a prison for thieves and non-communists (not really much a change from the Nazis). Later on, they used it as a nursing home for the elderly (maybe because the non-communists got old?)

The castle recently underwent refurbishment and has been put into use as a museum, youth hostel, and hotel. This means that if you wanted to, you could stay there yourself for a night...in a castle!

Life is in the Details, and These are my Favorite Details

Today I'd like to write about one of my favorite things ever, and something I don't write enough about on Liber Lexica: architecture. I really like buildings (the older the better) and all their myriad details. I think that often, the best part of a building is its details (unless its a Cold-War era Communist structure, in which case it doesn't have details). So today, I'm going to make a short list of some of my favorite details. Before I start, its best to keep in mind that most of my favorite details are medieval, so if you're having a hard time imagining what I'm talking about, keep that in mind (or ignore my ramblings entirely, that's cool too).

• Arches. I really do like arches. There are so many types and ways to go about doing arches. I like dramatic Gothic arches, wicked-cool Islamic horseshoe-shaped arches, even just plain rounded arches. I like arches that hold up buildings just as much as I like completely pointless decorative arches (okay, they're not pointless because their point is to be decorative, but whatever). Something about an arch just adds panache to a building. Plus, there usually isn't just one arch gracing a structure, usually you get a bonus of at least a couple together- even better!

 Arches into a courtyard at the Alhambra Palace, Spain.

 Lots of Double Arches at the Cordoba Mosque, also Spain.

• My next great architectural joy is the window. Now, you might think, "every building has windows, that's silly." However, not every building how windows. In fact, many really nice building don't have windows. Ancient Greek and Roman temples, for instance, did not have windows. I'm sure they could build windows, but they chose for whatever reason (perhaps cult secrecy and exclusion?) not to build them. I'm particularly fond of stained-glass windows (like Medieval rose-windows- just pretty colors, no pictures) and those colonial multi-pane windows. (Maybe it's the unbelievably charming shutters that get me?)

Old City Philadelphia

Cathedral at Autun, France

• Since good things come in threes, I'll let this be the last point for today. The final big-name architectural element that brings joy to my heart is the column. There are more different types of columns than there are arches (windows, however, definitely win the numbers game). Columns are great though because they are just as splendid as ruins as they are when they're new. You have your funny-looking Minoan columns (which are generally wooden, and fatter at the top than the bottom), your imposing Egyptian columns with bas-reliefs, your sturdy and self-assured Greek and Roman columns, and everything else. Don't even get me started on column capitals (oh boy, do I love those too).

 Temple of Olympian Zeus, Athens, Greece.

 Egyptian Columns...from somewhere in Egypt.

The Weather, Your Mood, the Beatles

Sorry if some of you are tired of hearing me talk about the weather. I hail from Washington; its an obsession.

Anyways, there are some bands or genres of music that I always associate with various types of weather. I don't care what anyone says, sunny days are Beatles days. When the weather is all nice and sunny, I just feel like rolling down the window (if I'm in a car. Clearly if I'm just chilling at my place, I'll shove the windows open- they don't roll down) and blasting some Beatles. I just found out that there are people in the world who don't like the Beatles and I find this very disturbing. What was missing from your childhood? Obviously it was a record player and JOY.

Right, so back to the point. Sun = windows open, music blasting. Good music. The Beatles. The Beatles are the best sunny-day music. Case in point, "Here Comes the Sun." Don't you feel more cheerful already? In a funny mood? Listen to "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" or "Rocky Raccoon" (maybe my two favorites). Bad mood, hating the world? Try "Eleanor Rigby". Just in a great mood, ready to embrace the weather? My suggestions are "Back in the USSR" or "With a Little Help from my Friends", or the cheeky 23 second-long gem from the Abbey Road album, "Her Majesty".

Just so you know, I am not a Beatles groupie or anything, I'm just saying their music is excellent for warm, sunny days (which I hope are coming soon, despite the dismal 10-day forecast). I do listen to other music on nice days (every day is a Disney playlist day), but the Beatles are just right. That, and most people won't pester you about blasting the Beatles (same does not always go for the Disney playlist), so it tends to be a pretty safe choice.

Now, if you also happen to like the Beatles, in whatever weather, I recommend the movie/album, "The Point", which is a psychedelic story made up in 1971 by Harry Nilsson and narrated by Ringo Starr. Its good listening, and quite charming.

Finagle's Corollary to Murphy's Law

You might be familiar with Murphy's Law, or the assertion that "anything that can go wrong, will." This phrase apparently originated in the field of engineering. Also, more importantly- there is no Murphy! The phrase came around about a century before its title. Everybody from some guy named Strauss to a mathematician named De Morgan tried to make it "their" law. Anyways, Finagle's Corollary (there is no Finagle either) to Murphy's Law, also called Finagle's Law of Dynamic Negatives goes like so: "Anything that can go wrong, will- at the worst possible moment."

On one hand, I find that this is frequently the case (I have too many examples to count). On the other hand, this is a pretty dramatically pessimistic. As a result, I don't know whether to make fun of the law or to whine about my personal experiences with it. Then again, you probably don't want to hear me whining, so I'll give you some facts about Finagle's Law instead!

The term was first used by sci-fi author John W. Campbell Jr. in the 1960s. He used the term frequently, hoping he could make it catch on (like fetch), but it never really got into the mainstream. However, it was still cool to reference Finagle's Law in the sci-fi world. For example, it was used several times by characters in Star Trek (clearly the pinnacle of science fiction).

According to Wikipedia (source extraordinaire), Finagle's Law is also related to something called Resistentialism, which is the belief that inanimate objects are out to get us. I didn't realize that that particular problem had any special name besides paranoia. Then again, I'm the sort of person who talks to my computer and attempts to coax it back to life when it crashes. I'm probably not the right person to be giving lectures about inanimate objects.

But now you too can try and make this phrase work. Next time it starts to pour as soon as you walk outside (which, given today's weather, should be any time you step outside) or your computer crashes, you can proudly reference Finagle's Corollary to Murphy's Law. And when someone looks at you with confusion, you can explain it to them and seem smart (or paranoid...its a fine line).

My Mountains are Better than your Mountains

First off, if your mind went to someplace dirty with that title, you should be ashamed of yourself. Seriously.

Now, when I sat down to write today, I really didn't know what I wanted to write about. So, this post comes with inspiration from Matt, who kindly reads and edits this blog every day. I asked: "What should I write about?" He said: "Mountains." And so mountains it is.

Now when I think about mountains, my mind immediately goes back to my West Coast homeland and the majestic Cascade mountain range (right near the Olympic Mountain range, which is home to one of the world's only remaining temperate rainforests). These mountain ranges (like the Rockies) are formed by tectonic plates mashing up against each other. Geologically speaking, these ranges are all pretty recent. On the other hand, the puny Appalachian Mountain Range (which is really all the East Coast can answer to our West Coast mountain might) is practically geriatric. Because of their great age, the mountains in the Appalachian range have been worn down by the sands of time (literally). Thus they are shorter, flatter, and overall, much lamer.

Look at those jagged Cascade peaks!

As you can tell, I have quite a bit of loyalty for my West Coast mountain ranges (hey, some people are loyal to basketball teams, some people prefer mountains). Now, if geologic time is too broad of a span for you, take more recent history as proof of the West Coast mountain awesomeness. When Europeans first settled the American continent, their biggest barrier to crossing the Appalachians wasn't the mountains themselves, but rather the people (Native Americans) who lived on the other side of the mountains. Now, a couple hundred years later when the Oregon Trail started up, the Rockies and other western mountain rages were a huge issue. Many explorers thought they were straight up uncrossable.

These are the Cascades in central Washington. Can you imagine seeing this from a wagon (like the folks on the Oregon Trail did)? The whole horizon is mountains! Also, this picture was taken at a place called Noble Nob. West Coast mountain names are also much better than East Coast mountain names. Take, for example, Three Fingered Jack Mountain, Mount Rainier (clearly a subtle allusion the the fact that it is rainier there than most places, duh), Mt. Shasta (say it with some swagga, or alternatively, say it like you're in a Fanta commercial), Glacier Peak, and the Three Sisters (I think of the three sisters like those three witches in Macbeth- they form such a craggy, evil-looking mountain group).

Anyways, the moral of the story is that West Coast mountains and mountain ranges are clearly much better than East Coast mountains and mountain ranges. I mean, we have volcanoes. Not just dormant ones, but active volcanoes. Take that. Also, there is definitely no subliminal dirty message here. None whatsoever.

Side note: The picture below is of Mt. Bachelor (left), Broken Top (middle), and the Three Sisters (right). Interesting arrangement. Hrm...

New Artwork/ Quote of the Week 4.3.2011

Since last week I went all post-modern with the art, I think that this week is a great time to turn the clock back. All the way back to the Baroque! So for this week, we have two firsts: first Italian artist and first Baroque-era painting! With no further delay, I present to you Caravaggio's The Calling of Saint Matthew:

The Calling of Saint Matthew, Caravaggio. 1599-1600.

Contarelli Chapel, San Luigi dei Francesi, Rome.

I am particularly fond of the Baroque Period (despite its obvious failing that is isn't Medieval) for all of its realism and manipulation of light and such. Something that I think is funny about paintings from this period is that even though the subject of this painting is very much not contemporary, the entirety of the setting (including the clothes and such) are. Maybe Caravaggio really thought that fashion, housing, etc. hadn't changed at all in the intervening centuries between the actual calling of Matthew and 1600 AD. Maybe he was lazy? Maybe he just figured people looking at the painting wouldn't be able to guess what what going on in the picture if he gave them time-and location-appropriate details.

Another cool feature of this painting you might notice is its use of light. See how the light seems to come from some point off to the right? Well, where the painting is installed in the chapel, there actually happens to be a window off to the right. So, Caravaggio painted the light in his picture with this in mind, which would make it all that much more realistic hanging on the wall in the chapel. Crazy, huh?

Always last, but never least, is the Quote of the Week:

"One must from time to time attempt things that are beyond one's capacity."   

-Pierre August Renoir

This quote really appeals to me. Not (as you might think) because I frequently believe things are beyond my capacity (research, essays, getting a job, etc), but because of the story behind it. Around the time when he said this, Renoir faced horrible rheumatoid arthritis and worsening deformities in his hands and shoulders. For someone who had spent their entire life painting, this must have been incredibly difficult to deal with. He had to change the whole way he went about painting- he even had to have an assistant put the paintbrush in his hands. Despite all this, he still continued to paint. He lived that way for the last 27 years of his life, which I think is admirable.

From Ponce de Leon to Dr. Mudd: A Mini-Vacation

I have visited a very large number of U.S. National Parks, and have lots of opinions about them: Denali (in Alaska) was cool, but it was rainy and cloudy in the dead of summer. Glacier (in Montana) was gorgeous, but the roads are enough to scare anyone. The Olympics (in Washington) were...pretty much exactly like the rest of Washington- but the hot springs were great! Without a doubt, though, my favorite National Park is Dry Tortugas (in Florida).

First off, doesn't it just sound cool? You say "Dry Tortugas" and it immediately puts me in mind of pirates and Caribbean adventures (Pirates of the Caribbean, anyone?) Second, it is Florida, which as you'll notice, is a lot warmer and more southerly than any of the other National Parks I've visited. Third, just look at it:

Doesn't it just look awesome? Dry Tortugas National Park also goes by the name "Fort Jefferson". Besides being arguably one of the prettiest National Parks, it also has the distinction of being the least visited. They can barely even maintain having more than two volunteer Park Rangers at any time. How could that possibly be, you ask? Well, you may have noticed that the park is an island, but what that picture doesn't show you is that Dry Tortugas is four hours away by speed boat from the nearest inhabited part of America (Key West, FL). Its closer to Cuba than the United States (the only reason it has any Park Rangers at all is that illegal immigrants are constantly trying to land themselves on this island).

Besides having more Cuban "visitors" than American tourists, the island has a really cool history. It was first discovered by Ponce de Leon in 1513, who gave it the name Dry Tortugas ("tortugas" for all the turtles he caught on the island and "dry" because it doesn't have any fresh water). Nobody really bothered with the island again until after the Spanish sold Florida to the U.S. Commodore John Rodgers thought the island might make a decent naval outpost and started construction in 1846. Since Rodgers wanted Fort Jefferson to serve as an advance warning spot in case of danger coming from the Caribbean or the Gulf of Mexico, he made sure that it was heavily armed. Despite the dedication of decades and a ton of federal resources, the fort was never fully completed. Five points if you can guess why.

You get five points if you guessed the Civil War! Fort Jefferson played an interesting role in the War of Northern Aggression: it served as a prison for prisoners of war. Surprisingly, one of the southernmost bits of U.S. territory actually belonged to the Union during the Civil War. They didn't even have to halt construction during the war because they switched from using slaves to prisoners for free labor. One thing you might notice in the pictures is that the top layers of the fort have different color bricks than the lower levels. This is because when construction started, they brought bricks in locally from Florida and other southern states, whose bricks are naturally a more reddish-orange color. Once the war started, their supply was cut off and they have to import bricks from as far north as Maine (these bricks have the darker red color).

During the Civil War, when the fort was used as a prison for captured Confederates, the population of the fort had as many as 2,000 people. However, the lack of fresh water on the island made disease a big problem. The sickness that riddled the island was as much a danger for the prisoners as it was for their Union soldier guards and all of the fort staff. Their shared near-death experiences tended to bring the inhabitants of the island together, and in 1865, the Unionists who had been on the island petitioned the U.S. government to get official pardons for the Confederates who had been imprisoned there. One of their most well-known prisoners was Dr. Samuel Mudd, who aided President Lincoln's assassin, John Wilkes Booth. In 1867, a particularly bad epidemic of yellow fever hit the island, killing a majority of the island's inhabitants, including the fort's only on-staff physician. The remaining residents turned to Mudd for medical help to see them through the epidemic. His work to save the lives of the people on the island garnered their respect, and they helped him to get a an official pardon from Andrew Johnson.

Author's Note: You may have noticed the gratuitous amount of pictures in this post. This is because its rainy and cold out in the real world, so I thought I'd give everyone a mini vacation to the Florida Keys. Also, some of these are my own pictures, and I'm proud of them. Enjoy.