Soil, explained.

As promised, here's the story on the poem, Soil, by Lord Sirra Tocks, mentioned in the previous post.

August of 1987 was an important year for me. Still only sixteen years old, I had just begun my freshman year in college at Virginia Tech. I was at school a week earlier than most of the VT students, since I was a member of the Virginia Tech Corps of Cadets. This meant that my first year in college would be the equivalent of attending a military school, complete with curfews, uniforms, five a.m. formations and P.T., mandatory study halls, and verbal hazing from upperclassmen. I was thirteen hundred miles from home for the first time ever, and it was time to grow up--fast.

As part of any normal freshman curriculum, I was enrolled in an English 101 course. English was never one of my favorite subjects. That is not to say that I didn't like writing, or grammar, or that I didn't like reading, or that I didn't like poetry. I really do enjoy all of those things. What I didn't like was the subject of English in the classroom. The subject is always treated, in my opinion, in a boring and pointless way that emphasizes memorization and providing the "proper" answers to an analysis of a piece of poetry or prose. This kind of "non-Socratic" study of English removes all the pleasure from the actual reading and writing.

For example, The Grapes of Wrath is a wonderful book. Great Expectations is a wonderful book. The poetry of Whitman and Poe are fantastic. One can savor the language in these works like a fine wine, letting the words slip across the tongue and roll gently off the lips.

But the obsessive deconstruction and analysis of these works often comes at the expense of just enjoying them. Why must we analyze the motivations and symbolism where perhaps the author intended none? I honestly believed that, to some great extent, the English teachers often made it up as they went along. And if you didn't agree with their answers, you were wrong. And you got a "C" in English. Which I did. Lots.

So, back to freshman English at Virginia Tech, I had been given an assignment to write an exposition on a poem. The assignment stated that the poem could be any poem of my choosing. This was the first time ever I had the freedom to write about something--anything--I wanted. Now, I had lots of favorite poems by this time. Most of them centered around Poe. There was the obvious Raven or the less obvious The City in the Sea. But instead, I chose Soil, by Lord Sirra Tocks. This was a poem I had seen in high school, thought I understood, and decided to write about it.

My essay described the poem in great detail, dissecting each stanza separately, providing references to Aldous Huxley's Brave New World for the enigmatic 'soma' reference. The poem, as I described it, was about depression, suicide and release from living obligations.

I thought I knew this one pretty well. Nailed it. I turned in my essay, and waited with great anticipation for the "A+" that I'd be receiving.

Several days later, I got back my graded essay. "C-". Written on the top of the paper in red were the words, "You missed the point." What the heck?! How can that be? Impossible!

Why impossible? Here was my secret. Read "Lord Sirra Tocks" backwards.

I never revealed to my teacher that the original author of the poem was, in fact, me. Yes, me. I wrote the poem in high school. At the time, I actually got a pretty good grade for it. (It tells you a lot about the standard of education in Mississippi schools, because the poem is really not that good. In fact, I think it's pretty awful today, but that is hardly the point of this story.)

The point is that I wrote the poem, so I should be able to explain it. Who better could explain it? Apparently, my teacher could.

As I did whenever I got a bad grade, I scheduled an appointment with the teacher to see why I got the "C-". Sitting down with her in her office, I told her, "I just don't understand why I got the 'C-'. I really thought I understood this poem pretty well."

"Scott," she said to me, "you wrote a good essay. It was well written and well thought out."

Great. I thought, then why the freaking "C-"?

"The problem is that you completely missed the point of the poem," she said. She continued to explain to me how the poem wasn't about something as dreadful as suicide, but rather about a Christian rebirth, a "born again experience." The "soil" in the poem was Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ?! I could barely contain myself. I was cracking up inside. This poem was nothing like that. This poem was written in the midst of teen sexual anxiety--hormones run rampant over persistent rejection by the opposite sex. In short, it was, "I'm striking out with the ladies, so I will kill myself. Then I will be happy." (Things are so dramatic when you're a teen. I never even came close to really wanting to do this, but I expressed it in the poem nevertheless as an emotional outlet.)

One thing was for sure, this poem was definitely not about Christianity! I was as far removed from evangelical Christianity as I could be. I was Catholic for crying out loud! We don't read the Bible! (It's read to us at Mass!) And we certainly don't evangelize!

Sitting in my professor's office, I'm filled with the confirmation that, yes, indeed, all English teachers make it up as they go along. Yes, they grade you on what they think the poem should be about. And, yes, it's all very pointless.

I had a choice: Do I reveal all this to her, possibly risking expulsion? Even though she said any poem of our choosing, I didn't want to argue this point with her. Or, do I keep this little morsel of knowledge to myself and savor it for the rest of my days? I chose the latter, and this must have been a turning point in my maturity. This was me, rejecting instant gratification, and taking the high road.

I politely thanked her for her time, took the "C-" graciously, and as I walked down the sidewalk back to my dorm, I beamed from ear to ear with confidence and awareness, and at having been proved right.

It was the only "C-" I'd ever been proud of.

Soil

And now for something completely different: Here's a poem... I will have a story about this tomorrow:

SOIL
Lord Sirra Tocks


What is your condition? Fed up?
There is hope...
I know of a release, an exit.
My condition was once as is yours. Not any more.

Nothing is going as planned?
Is it love, money, age, or life in general?
Soma isn't the answer.
Soil is.

What is soil?
"Dirt," you say. But dirt is a filthy
substance. Dirt is the many sins which
you so many times wanted to be rid of.
Dirt is that dark secret,
that if the world found out,
life would surely be ruined.
For no one can live with his dirt lying
about, as on a rug, or a Sunday-shirt.
A stain that never comes out, no matter what
you spray on it.
People tell you to cleanse yourself. But you can't!
A stain never comes out.
No matter how many times you scald yourself.
The water won't get hot enough to get rid of the dirt.
A stain never comes out.
Never.
Because
Dirt is filth.

Soil is definitely not dirt. No, soil nurtures.
With soil, one can grow, as does a plant.
Reaching and growing toward the sky.
This is not some false earthen state-of-being.
This is when peace comes.
This is when love comes.
This is when happiness comes.
This is when all things man has ever wanted finally come.
Not until then has he got any of these things.
When he has soil.
When he is soil.
When soil is he.
Only when one has soil can he soar. Without bound.
To the farest reaches of infinity, if he so desires.
He can do all this, whenever he needs to.
He has no more obligation.
He can soar; he can fly; he can live.
Only then is he born to the world.
All the rest is just prenatal teachings. Preparing him for
his new life.
His life with the soil.
His life of the soil.

And when one reaches the sky, as I did so recently,
He looks back and sees the struggles of the others.
He sympathizes with their condition.
His condition was identical to theirs.
He tries to tell them.
But he cannot intervene.
He can only try to persuade.
Perhaps he need not even try. They never listen.
Perhaps their happiness will come.
But for most it never does.
(It never did for me.)

Leave your sadness.
Leave your guilt.
Leave your jealousies, disasters, and sorrows.
Leave it all behind.
I have a way out.
I have an exit.

I invite you to soar.
I invite you to grow.
I invite you to learn.
Learn, grow, and soar with me.
We can roam and fly and glide. Anywhere, anytime.

The soil is fertile now. Just ready.
I invite you to join me,
In the soil...

The Complete Grail

Barry, responding to my recent post about getting a new colleciton of Monty Python DVDs, said:

Does this mean we're going to have to suffer hearing you quote Python bits for the next 6 months? Oy Vay!

Wow, Barry, perfect lead in!

Back in the summer of 1989, I was an intern for Bell Northern Research in Raleigh, North Carolina. During that time, I had a lot of extra time on my hands. In one week that summer, I obsessively transcribed my absolute favorite movie of all time--Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

I saved the document for all these years, and I'm sure today you will find a million unauthorized fan sites on the Internet sporting their own copies of the movie transcription. However, I'm proud that I did this one all the way back in 1989 (back when only nerds liked the movie, and it wasn't a major Broadway hit). Also, I've added my own little commentary and trivia into it, making it a bit more of my own.

I don't know if this is copyright infringement, but it's not intended to be. The text is intended to be derivative, and hence, probably falls under "fair use." I'm certainly not intending to make commercial profit off of it, so I think it's probably okay legally.

So, here it is. Just click on the photo of the movie to the left or the link below.

The Complete Grail, by Scott E. Harris. [PDF Download]

Present Time!

I guess I was a good boy this year, because Becky got me the coolest present ever:



This is no ordinary Monty Python collection. Each of the actors (with the exception of Graham Chapman, for obvious reasons) chooses his favorite "bits" from the show for his own personal DVD. There are six in all, and it looks like it will be a HOOT!

She also got me some lovely shirts... really, they are quite nice. (But it's hard to get too excited about shirts.)

And, no, James, none of the shirts have my social security number or ATM PIN stenciled on them. I only put that stuff on my blog where nobody sees it.

Happy Birthday (party) to Me

It's not quite my birthday yet, but we celebrated it anyway. My actual birthday isn't until Monday, but Mondays are no good for celebrating, so today was the day.

We started out the day making sausage for the party... and Luke helped me enough that I have now crowned him the Sausage Prince to my Sausage King. He was such a big help--slicing meat, mixing spices, grinding meat and stuffing casings. I think Grandpa Duke may have a new convert. Luke really enjoyed himself, and I was glad to have the help.

Of course, making sausage is pretty hard work. We made five pounds of venison sausage and six pounds of lamb sausage. It takes quite a while to mix the meat with the spices, grind it, and then stuff it into casings. All in all, it took about four hours, and by the end, my back was killing me. Just in time for people to start showing up!

We had our usual crowd over, Leslie, Scott, Sharon, Desi, Phil and Pam, plus the legions of kids that they bring with them. We didn't do anything too much, but enjoyed some grilled brats and ate some coconut birthday cake. Then, afterwards, it was a pleasure to share some of my recently acquired Aberlour 15 year Scotch single malt whisky with Desi and Phil, two gentlemen who can really appreciate a whisky like that.

The finale of the night was when Eddie and all the girls composed and presented me with a special birthday performance--captured here for posterity:



It was a pretty nice birthday party. I'm a pretty lucky guy to have friends like these.

Flight to China

Eddie got up early this morning and started a flight from Dulles to Hong Kong. He started out in a Cessna, and then tried a DC-3, before deciding that a 747 was really the best way to go.



Eddie had a beautiful takeoff from the runway 1L-19R heading north, and then once he cleared 17,000 feet, I helped him engage the autopilot, and right now we're locked in direct for VHHH (Hong Kong International).

If we leave everything running, we should be there by bedtime.

(Interestingly enough, Eddie took a big detour to go see Santa at the North Pole, so we had to do a little in flight refueling. Isn't it nice that those KC-10 tankers are always ready to refuel, no matter what aircraft, no matter what location?)

Potomac Nationals Game... and Spongebob

No Potomac Nationals game would be complete without a rousing chorus of the Spongebob Squarepants theme song!

Let's Go P-Nats!

Tuesday night we took our friends, Vic, Catherine, Ashlyn and Chaz, to the Potomac Nationals baseball game. Minor league ball is great! The seats are cheap, close to the action, and the prices on food is reasonable. (Nevermind that you don't know who any of the players are... you don't need to!)

It was a great evening, and even though the Nats lost, we still had a really good time.

Here are some photos from the night at the ballpark:

Last of the Bloomer pictures

Here are some of the nicer shots from our visit to Bloomer. Incidentally, none of these pictures was "touched" with Picasa. I really like the sunset one and the geraniums. (By the way, that's Eddie out there by himself on that paddleboat.)

Bloomer Video -- Day 4

Here is the final video. Day four is another day at the lake, this time we're mostly just fishing. Also, we had a campfire with Uncle Jim and Aunt Marie.

This video is blessedly only three minutes long. It's got some nice footage of the boys in it.

Bloomer Video -- Day 3

Here is the video from day three where we had the party for Ed and Kathleen's 40th anniversary.

This video is 10 minutes long. Mostly just for direct family; others may not find it as interesting.



Day four is coming right up!

Bloomer Video -- Days 1 and 2

Here is the first of three videos from our visit to Bloomer, Wisconsin. This first one covers days one and two, where we did lots of lakeside activities, including fishing, swimming, kayaking, water sledding and paddle-boating. Look for a funny part where the boys capsize the water sled and Uncle Chuck heroically dives to the rescue.

The video is about 11 minutes long.



Days 3 and 4 will be posted soon!

Luke and His Friends

Here's a couple of pictures of Luke and his friends, Andrew and Mikey. These guys are a handful. They've been together since they were born, and they love to spend time torturing each other with various weapons.

The pictures are not very high quality, mostly because my scanner is old, a piece of crap, and beginning to fail. It's putting red and green horizontal scan lines on every picture now. I think I may have to break down and pay the eighty dollars to replace it.

8/21/06 update: Ok, so I bought a new scanner tonight, and have rescanned the photos. These have turned out much better than the previous ones [1] [2].

The Scurvy Continues to Worsen

The other tooth came out today. With a little spritz of Chloraseptic (to numb the gums), Luke finally let me pull the second front tooth. It was dangling my a single flap of skin, and I simply had to get it out. It was driving me crazy. Luke didn't seem to mind it as much as I did--he was even willing to eat nachos with it in there dangling about.

Anyhow, it finally came out, and now Luke is very proud of the lack of teeth in the front of his smile.

Horse Show

We went to a horse show today, as part of a Cub Scout service project, and did some clean-up. (Well, we cleaned up litter, not horse-apples.)

Avast, ye maties! Where are me limes?!

I am sad to report that Luke may have scurvy. I'm afraid one of the symptoms is the loss of teeth. He's already lost one, and the other is not going to be here much longer. Yes, it's true. Too much macaroni and cheese, chicken nuggets, and otherwise all food lacking in vitamin C. I told him to eat his vegetables, but he wouldn't listen. And now his teeth are falling out! Though, he doesn't seem to be too upset about it.

I'm still trying to see if our medical plan covers scurvy.

I'm a good driver, Dad! Speed it up!

Here is the last video from New Ulm. It showcases the boys' driving skills on Grandpa and Nana's lawn tractor. They got a real kick out of this.

It's also very cute video of the boys. About 4 minutes long. You can skip around if you get bored.

LeDuc 40th Anniversary Party

Ok, so I'm a little behind in my posting, but I did want to mention that the reason we made the recent trip to Minnesota/Wisconsin was mainly to hold a 40th anniversary party for Becky's parents. She scored some major brownie points with her parents, and if she wasn't in the will before, she sure as hell is now!

Between her and Chuck, they threw an incredible party for all the extended family. The party was held at the local hotel conference center. The food was delicious, and the setting was perfect--considering it was an absolute squall outside.

The party was basically a big ol' Wisconsin family reunion, with almost all of the old aunts and uncles, friends and cousins coming to the party. Instead of posting like a thousand pictures of all the different people, I am working on a movie which will incorporate all the pictures into it. It will be easier to view that way (and easier to skip for those not interested).


From the very beginning of the party, there was very large potential for the boys to be completely bored. They were the only kids there, and the median age of the guests was about 70! After unloading ten dollars of quarters on them in the hotel's arcade, I came up with a better plan for keeping them entertained: I gave each boy a digital camera (mine and Adolfo's) and instructed them to take a picture of every old person they saw in the room. Well, to them, that was everybody!

So Luke and Eddie bounded around the room taking photos of just about everybody; it kept them entertained for the rest of the party, and it let all the old timers get a look at the boys when they weren't moping around saying, "I'm bored." Plus, having a kid spring up on you and take your picture, it seems, gets a more genuine smile than if some 30-something like myself says, "Say cheese!"

There were a couple pretty cute moments at the party. One was when Luke jumped up like a jack-in-the-box in front of Great-Grandpa John, who is well in his 80's, and took his picture. I thought Grandpa John was going to jump clean out of his trousers. Probably the most he moved all year.

The boys also learned how to "clink their water glasses with spoons" to get Ed and Kathleen to kiss... ala the standard thing you do at weddings. Once the boys had command over Grandpa and Grandma in this way, they were merciless. Grandpa and Grandma must have kissed 10 times in 10 minutes. "More than they've probably kissed in the last five years," one of the guests replied. (You know who you are!)

There was also a cute part where Luke took some video, and it's cute to see through the eyes of this little six year old. All the video is at butt-height level, and the attention span in the video is really short. I'll include that in the video I produce.

So, that's a taste of what's to come in the video. It was a grand party! I hope everyone had fun!

What the hell is up with Blogger?

Man, I am not liking this migration to Blogger Beta. It took me 30 minutes to figure out how to log in and get back to my normal dashboard. I hope I don't lose anything in the transfer.

Another funny artifact, perhaps of this transfer process: My hit counts are way, way up. I usually get between 5 and 20 hits per day (unique visitors that is). 40 is a good day. I've rarely had more than 60.

Today: 231 and counting!