Tuesday, February 8 - Saturday, February 12 ---
--- A rather slow week, on the whole, as fatigue and illness start to catch up to me. The paradisical weather of Amsterdam and the nice, yet chilly, air of Edinburgh both attribute to my decline in health and energy (I’m sure my legendary pub crawl didn’t do much to help the old resistance much either). Nothing too serious -- just your run of the mill sore throat and non-lethal batch of anemia. Still, I don’t do all that much this week but come home from work / class and go to sleep in an effort to recharge my batteries. Fear not, faithful reader, as I actually managed to crawl to a few things of note.
Tuesday: Had BLC class tonight, a rather interesting lecture on the history of the European community and its (and Britain’s) different business aspects. England joined the European Union in 1971, only to have its membership put to a vote four years later (it was called for by the British people themselves, and by a 2:1 ratio, the people voted to remain a part of Europe). The reason they stayed in was so they could help promote economic cooperation throughout the land and not let the US rule economically supreme (nice try, jackass...) They also didn’t want to leave since they still had remnants of their Empire - until 1949 they still ruled India, Australia, and other token lands.
Winston Churchill was the first person to call for a United States of Europe, one that would have given us two superpowers in the world - the United States, and the United Europe (can you imagine what the map would look like? Two giant blobs of color on each side of the world. Strangely enough, I think we’re headed in that direction anyway...)
Benelux formed in 1947 - this conglomeration contains Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg - but it didn’t cause much of a commotion to the bombed-out, shell-shocked Europe that was still recovering from WWII.
In the 1950s, coal and steel industries in Britain were absolutely huge money makers, and in 1952 Europe formed coal and steel communities, replete with quotas, to challenge Britain’s title in this area. These communities contained Benelux, France, Germany and Italy, and was seen as a great democratic achievement since Germany and Italy were still hated, defeated nations staggering in the wake of the war. Another larger union, similar in purpose and scope, formed in 1958 (the Messina European Coal and Steel Communities) and called for a more united Europe.
Britain responded to these calls in the 1960s as they strove to become a full-fledged part of Europe, but French President de Gaulle was pissed at the Brits and knew how to hold a grudge, and every time there was a vote for Britain’s entry, he voted ‘no’ and therefore they weren’t admitted.
This constant thwarting began to dissipate the urge to join the union (“Fine. If you won’t let us in your silly club, we’ll go home and play on our own. Who needs you anyway?”) Generally, those in favor of joining the union were veterans of WWII since they had seen what happened to small, unsupported countries and also what can happen when you team up with other nations -- you can save the world from evil (apparently they don’t want to think about the flip side to this coin which also happened -- evil nations that band together can do a whole lot of horrible shit before the good guys ride in on their white horses. Can you say “Axis?”) Those who tended to oppose entry weren’t vets, hadn’t seen the horrors of war first hand, and just didn’t like the idea of some group of people not even based in their country telling them what to do.
1993 saw the European Union form with one standard currency, one united economy, free trade amongst member nations, and unlimited travel, too (which means no passports). As of now, the only thing that has been implemented is the standard currency, the Euro, and that’s not even fully in use yet.
The main reason I think Britain doesn’t get on board with the United Europe and the Euro is simple - its island mentality is rearing its ugly head again. These people have never had to share a border with anyone, never had to deal with the crap going on right next door. They’ve always been the only child who gets everything they want because they’re so isolated. They’ve never had to share their toys with the neighbors if they didn’t want to, and they’ve never really felt pressure to do something they didn’t want to do when everyone around them was. The only relationship they’ve ever really dealt with is a highly rigid and controlled system of give or take, not the flexible system used with increased regularity today of give and take. Only time will tell what will happen to our island friends here, but if they’re not careful, they’re going to be on their own; a lonely oasis in a big, unfriendly world.
Wednesday: No fieldtrip today, but I still don’t get to sleep in (of course not, silly) because I have a meeting in the morning to discuss my internship with some of the program heads. This, as you might surmise, is another titanic waste of time. It takes me longer to walk from my box to the meeting than it does for us to actually discuss things (and when you think about it, I really don’t do all that much at work, so why would I have a lot to talk about?)
The meeting goes like this: the program heads sit in a circle looking at me, waiting for me to talk. I don’t disappointing, uttering the marvelous conversation starter, “So...” They proceed to ask such grilling questions as “What do you do? What journalism skills are you using? (I’m supposed to be using journalism skills? Oh shit...) What type of food do they serve in the canteen?”
After answering these, along with nearly 184 others, I leave the room exactly 2.3 minutes after I started things off (like I was actually going to complain to them about my placement. Sure, it sucks a lot, but look at what I have going for me. A) They don’t expect me to do much of anything. I set my own schedule and pretty much do what I want. B) I can do homework and write for my webpage at work because it looks like I’m busy (I am - just not on what they’d probably prefer.) And, most importantly, C) I don’t work on Fridays and only have to work one Sunday a month, and even that can be finagled out of. Like I’m actually going to give this powderpuff placement up. I’ll be damned if I’m going to work on a Friday (and yes, this is what I’ll tell future employers when I hit Yankee soil again. I’ll maintain a hard stance and lash out at them for being so predictably American while I’m so cultured and European. I’ll be a hero to the 9-5ers; an icon to the blue collars; a demagogue to the downtrodden. In other words, dreadfully unemployed...)
After this waste of life, I wander back to take some pics of the Inns of Court and the Royal Courts of Justice, along with a church or two here and there, since I forgot my camera last time I visited them. The sun’s actually out, the first time I’ve seen that luminous circle of gas for weeks. I wander some more, taking in the fresh air and blissfully damaging UV rays, eventually heading home to round up the troops.
We’re off to see the Phantom of the Opera, and it’s everything I’d imagined. Great plot, great sets, great songs. I used to listen to the soundtrack of this when I was a wee lad, so I know most of the songs. It’s a truly phenomenal show - the female lead and the Phantom himself have spectacular voices, so good that I keep getting chills. The story is entertaining: a Phantom falls in love with this woman, the understudy to the star of an opera, and he slowly swings the tables so his unrequited love is numero uno in the spotlight. (This is all in the hopes that she’ll fall for him.) Problem is, she’s in love with another, and this leads to an agonizing battle between the Phantom’s wants for the girl and his wants for her happiness.
And then there are the sets - richly decorated, constantly changing, extremely cool. The best is the Phantom’s underground lair which has fog crawling all over the floor, obscuring the actors’ feet and shins, and dozens of flickering candelabras which create a spectacularly Gothic feel. In short, the show is stellar from head to toe, well worth the full price tickets that we were forced to buy.
Thursday: A rather fun day at work. No, they don’t take me out and get me trashed, but they do send me to the nominations for the London Film Critics’ Awards. Here I get to interview Ayub Khan Din, a screenwriter and director, some hot blond TV presenter, and the icing on the top, Mr. William H. Macy himself. You might remember him from movies like Fargo, Boogie Nights, Pleasantville, or even as Dr. Morganstern on ER. I really dig the guy - he seems so cool - and interviewing him was a blast. I was a little nervous, but we started bullshitting about Chicago since that’s where he’s from and where he got his start, and then things went sublimely (I think it helped I was a fan of his because I was asking him more interesting questions than, “Who are you? Who are you dating? Are you mad at anyone?” (These just so happened to be questions one through three that the people at work sent me to ask. Morons...))
After this, I head back, get all my proposed write-ups for my interviews shot down (“That’s good, but it’s just not Diary style.”), but I’m undaunted. I go to the Showbiz desk and tell them about my interviews, and they like them so much, they publish the quotes and stuff in the Sunday paper (I should be getting paid in the neighborhood of 50-75 pounds for each story. Cha-ching!)
Then, we leave work early to go to the London Eye, otherwise known as the Millenium Wheel, a gigantic Ferris Wheel kitty-corner to Big Ben and Parliament. It isn’t open to the public yet, so this is a rather coveted experience in town. It takes about a half hour to go all the way around - each of its 32 pods hold up to 25 people and slowly spin while the wheel spins too. It’s pretty ingenious. The view is the best one in the city, a full 35 meters higher than St. Paul’s and three times as high as the Tower Bridge. We get there as the sun is setting, so we get treated to quite the spectacular view - Big Ben with the sun setting around it is really quite breathtaking.
Friday: Only thing of note is the viewing of Chicago. Quite a cool little musical, but not as sex-laden as the ads and word of mouth led me to believe (so in this aspect, I was duly disappointed). It tells the tale of a bunch of stage performers in Al Capone Chicago who will do anything to hog headlines in the press - kill, lie, etc. The music is fantastic - great jazz numbers with blaring, dirty horns that seem to growl in discontent - as is the dancing - very unique and hip. Unlike anything I’ve seen before. It’s quite a good time, especially since we buy the cheapest tickets in the house and get them upgraded to the best seats in the house when the show isn’t a sell out. Cha-ching!
Saturday: I wake up and head off to the V&A, otherwise known as the Victoria and Albert museum. Back when we first got here, our tour guide told us that an alternate explanation for the acronym V&A is "very awkward," and when I get here I can see why.
First, this place is absolutely huge -- spanning five massive and densely populated floors -- and it has everything from glass galleries to paintings, from pottery to weaponry. I start out learning about the Middle East and its culture via sculptures, pottery, and various paintings. It's exceedingly confusing and complex, but here's what I pull away from it.
Its religion is very interesting and full of various gods, something akin to Roman or Greek mythology, and this explains my keen interest in it. Apparently (and my info may not be entirely correct, but I believe it to be rather close) they have five major dieties -- Visnu, Siva, Durga, Ganesa, and Surya.
Surya is the sun god, and he has two wives, Pratyasha, the goddess of twilight, and Usa, the goddess of dawn. Usa is said to slay Pratyasha every night so that the sun can rise unimpeded.
Siva is the god whose divine dance is said to have shook the world and created life, but now is the great destroyer and reproducer. He controls the rhythm and fate of life, and is also called the Great Teacher, the one who teaches yoga, music, knowledge, and arts and sciences. He rides around on the bull Nandi and his matted hair is said to have Ganga, the goddess of the river Ganges, living inside of it. (How's that for a room with a view?) He is said to live in the Himalayas and spend most of his time getting high while smoking dope. He has a third eye and his symbol (most of these gods have characteristic symbols they carry to make for easy identification) is the trident, that ever-cool looking three-pronged fork.
Durga is the female energy of Siva (not quite sure what that means, exactly, but that's what the placard says, so that's what i'm telling you...) and she is an 8-armed goddess that is known for being a vicious slayer of evil, specifically the buffalo demon, Mahisasura, that plagued their lands. She is said to be the dark side of Siva and rides around town on a tiger.
Parvati, on the other hand, is the beautiful side of Siva and he had two kids with her (how does that work if she's actually part of him? He basically has sex with himself, gets himself pregnant, and then spits out a pair of kids, one of which happens to look like an elephant. Oy, vey...) -- Skanda, the god of war (who happens to have 6 heads) and Ganesh, the elephant-headed god of wisdom and prosperity (mainly in the agricultural world). (The cool story behind his head is this -- his father was away on a prolonged vacation and came back to find his wife in a room with a young man. Enraged, he cut off this person's head, only to find that it was his son who, in his absence, had undergone a little growth spurt and thus was unrecognizable to daddy dearest. Parvati made him bring Ganesh back to life, but he could only do so by using the head of the first living thing he saw, which just happened to be an elephant. How's that for bad luck?) (Ganesh, by the way, rides around on a rat -- again I must ask, how does that work? An elephant cruising around India on a tiny rat? I don't think Siva is the only one sitting around smoking stuff...)
Some other interesting mystical entities are Laksmi, the goddess of beauty and wealth, Jyesta, her sister, who represents misfortune, Kubera, the god of wealth (there seems to be some overlap of these dieties' responsibilities, something I'll attribute to naming the same people differently depending on what religious sect you hail from -- kinda like Ares and Mars both being the god of war in Roman and Greek culture).
Hariti was the devourer of kids, but then converted to the protector of the young, and is now the fertility goddess. Avalokitesvara is the Lord of compassion who has 11 heads (kind of appropriate -- who other than a person born with 11 heads could need more compassion?). Brahma is the Hindu god of creation and, along with Siva and Visnu, form the triangle of power. Visnu himself is known as the preserver, and he preserves the balance of the world with the help of his four arms. There are 24 Jinas, which are liberated souls, and they seem to be the equivalent of saints in Christianity.
Amidst this sea of dieties, there are multitudes of representations of Buddha. He is always shown with a prominent hair knot in the center of his head (called the usnisa), a dot in the middle of his forehead (called the urna), and elongated ear lobes from when he used to wear earrings as a prince.
Whew! Sorry about all that, but there was a ton of stuff there. Mixed in with all this, I learn about lotas (water pots), nagas (snakes), tantra (esoteric texts that guide life), stupas (great shrines erected as offerings to gods), and spice boxes (they have two types -- pandan are boxes that hold spices for making bread, and masala are boxes that hold spices for cooking.) I find out that Islam literally means "submission to God," and a Muslim is "someone who has submitted to God." (I also learn that 'skywalker' in Indian is dakinis, so think about what would have happened if George Lucas had grown up in India -- we'd be following the exploits of Han Solo, Jabba the Hut, and Luke Dakinis. "The Force is strong in you, Dakinis. Use it wisely...")
After this I take a gander at the Raphael cartoons and resulting tapestries, giant paintings depicting various religious scenes and then copies made out of fine silk and cloth. They're quite impressive, especially the Miraculous Draught of Fishes, and I learn an interesting thing about this process of converting paintings to tapestries -- they're mirror images of each other. The weavers take the giant drawings and start weaving right on top of the paintings, so the face of the painting and the face of the tapestry that directly touches it are considered the front. Thus, when they are separated, they are mirror images of each other. Very cool, and you can see what they mean with the Miraculous Draught since they have both the painting and the tapestry in the same room.
It's in this room that I also learn about St. George. You want to talk about the Mother of all bad days? Talk to him. He kills a dragon and saves the princess from her impending demise, but at the big celebration in town, he denounces their pagan gods, thus pissing off Dacian, the town ruler. Dacian thus decides to torture Georgie in as process so lengthy it makes Titanic look like a commercial.
First, George is tied to a cross and scraped with scores of fish hooks. Next, he is poisoned. Then, he is tied down and nailed - literally. Then he's imprisoned; tied between two wheels to go for a dismembering spin; sawed in half; put in a pot of molten lead; drawn naked behind a horse through the city streets; and then finally, after everything else failed to kill or even pain this guy, he's beheaded. Yikes. Note to self: do not piss off anyone named Dacian. My luck isn't as good as George's...
After a quick brain break for lunch, I head back into the fold to learn a little more. I learn that St Peter and Paul are credited with founding the Christian Church, I learn monstrances are big ornate altarpieces that are used in Communion and are said to contain the consecrated Body, I learn ewers and basins are simply fancy names for a wash jug and dish, and acanthus is the name for the popular pottery pattern where the leaves seem to roll and crawl up the surface. I see the Great Bed of Ware - a mammoth thing that is nine feet wide and an equal amount long that is carved out of solid wood and dates way back to 1590. I see statues, pottery, and tapestries. I see shields, seats, and shirts. I learn dragons are said to be the protectors of water and oceans and are called to send rain, while still protecting the lands from floods. To dream of a dragon and rain is a good thing - for men it means you will have a successful career, for women it means you will bear a son (none to trivial a thing in Japanese society.) I see the great Cast Courts which are filled with gigantic plaster casts of stoneworks, statues, doorways, etc. (Ghiberti's Gates of Paradise are cast there, as are Trajan's Column, and both famous versions of David - Michelangelo's and Donatello's).
On the whole, this museum is too much - much too much for one day, maybe for an entire lifetime. It's absolutely endless - you spend five minutes walking down the halls filled with swords, armors, shields, and the like, and then you turn the corner to find miles and miles of silver items. Then you turn another corner and it's an endless exhibition of tapestries; then furniture; then communication devices - it never stops. It's a spectacular example of excess; an aristocratic playground; the place where you can go to find everything you could possibly want, yet would never need (if Harrod's is closed, of course...) I stagger away around 3 o'clock, my head ready to explode from information overload, having only completed the first floor and portions of the second. At least I have something to do another day...