intellegere

Today in my favorite class one of the things we talked about made me realize that there is a word in the English language that we could probably come to understand better. It's a weird word, when you think about it...

under•stand

Isn't that a strange word?  We use it all the time, but what does it mean? 

Is this understanding?  All words have some literal significance, so where in the world did we get such an obscure compound word to mean "to perceive the meaning or significance of something"?

Well, we turned to the trusty online etymology dictionary (a site that I frequent...it can be very enlightening).

The general conclusion was that the word literally means "to stand in the midst of" or "to be close to".  "Stand" still has the general connotation we use with it today, but the meaning of "under" seems to be rather complex.

related roots:

Old English under, Sanskrit antar, Latin inter: "between, among"

Greek entera: "intestines" 

other Old English compounds using "under":
underniman: to receive

undersecan: to investigate

underginnan: to begin

Phrase we use today that makes more sense now you know more about the word "under":

"Under these circumstances..." 

Greek epistamai: "I know how" or "I know"...literally, "I stand upon"

Other Germanic languages use compounds meaning "stand before", and most Indo-European languages use extension of compounds that mean "but together", "separate", or "take grasp" (eg: "comprehend")

Well, this is all neat and stuff (perhaps etymology isn't your thing...perhaps you'd rather study entomology) but...I just wrote a long blog post about the meaning of this one word everyone already knew the meaning of.  

I think it's fascinating because sometimes learning how a word came to be can give us different insights on what it means--not by changing the meaning but by augmenting the meaning we are already familiar with.

So if you want to understand something, you need to stand with it.  Put yourself among it.  Be close to it; allow it to envelop you.

You can't really understand someone, for instance, until you're in their shoes (or in their head) and you see what they're experiencing and you know what they're thinking and feeling, and you know why.

Likewise, others can't understand you unless you allow them to do that.

So... where do you stand?

circumstant

So my friend walked into my room earlier today.  I was sitting at my desk reading this book (and writing in it of course...one of the best ways to enjoy books.) Upon seeing this scene, he commented that my room looks like a library.  There are always several stacks of books on my desk (textbooks and otherwise) as well as papers and notebooks open waiting for a pen to complete them...so it's not too hard to see where the notion that I live in a library comes from.

Although it is true that I live in a library...I frequent this building on campus to study and borrow books and use the computers...If I could sleep in the library, I probably would just move in altogether.

Alas, the library I live in does not look like this.

What's nice about my library room, though, is that it is my own creation.  I built my own environment and accidentally made a library.  Awwwyeah.

See, whether we're building an accidental library or some other habitat to define us, We ultimately create our immediate surroundings.  Yes, there are always aspects of life that can't be helped and that are out of our control, but we still decide which books go where in our libraries.

Sometimes it's hard to tell what to do with a library...what direction should a library of all things be headed?  Personally I would like my library to be such that an owl-eyed man could walk into my life, pick the books off my shelves, and be thrilled to see that they are in fact real books.  Some of the pages may not yet be cut, but all the things in and around my life will never be counterfeited.

Basically now that I've unintentionally or perhaps subconsciously built a library around my life, I intend to continue to build it until it becomes something majestic.

identitatem

It's still Black History Month, so to celebrate I thought I'd learn some American History that I previously did not know, and then share it with the world in general so that you can have the opportunity to learn things, too.

Today, February 21st marks the assassination of human rights activist Malcolm X. 

Many inspirational leaders grow up in hardship and overcome it to live a fulfilling life, often because of a strong influence from their family.  Malcolm X, born Malcolm Little, did not.  He was born in 1925 in Nebraska, and suffered much due to racism and hatred.  By his early teens, many of his family members had been harassed by white supremacists.  His father, a black minister who often gave controversial sermons, was brutally killed and his uncle was lynched.  His mother was later placed in a mental hospital and young Malcolm fell into the cracks between foster homes.  He dropped out of school and moved to Boston where he got involved in crime.

At the age of 21, Malcolm X was imprisoned for burglary.  While there, he encountered the ideology of the Nation of Islam, a movement that aimed to improve the quality of life of humanity, specifically African Americans. He was excited by their ideas of black nationalism and racial separatism. It was because of this that he changed his last name to "X", to symbolize his stolen African identity. After six years in prison, Malcolm X was released and became a prominent leader within the Nation of Islam.  He was soon known for his harsh indictment of racial hate crimes and his support of liberation by any means necessary. He was not always on the same page as other civil rights champions, who called for integration and understanding.  Malcolm X advocated racial pride and identity and fierce self-protection.

Malcolm developed as a powerful orator and was admired by much of the African American community.  Eventually his philosophies became very involved and outspoken, such that he was suspended from the Nation of Islam.  This did not inhibit him from being politically active, although it did allow him to investigate other ideologies and reconsider his approaches to ideals.  After breaking with the Nation of Islam, Malcolm made a pilgrimage to Mecca, where he was inspired by the racial harmony amongst orthodox Muslims there.  Upon returning to America, X changed his name to El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz and founded the Afro-American Unity, an organization that promoted black identity and argued that racism rather than the white community was the cruelest enemy of African Americans (and indeed, any person).  This less extreme philosophy gained many followers and Malcolm X continued to be a strong leader and an involved individual.

Unfortunately, standing up for something sometimes only makes it seem further beyond your reach.  Malcolm was targeted by many who disagreed with him.  In February of 1965, his home was firebombed. He managed to escape, but a week later was shot by Nation of Islam members--his own people--at an organization rally.  
Malcolm's life and death were surrounded by controversy.  Many people condemned him for his extreme views and overzealous methods.  Others revered him for his boldness and strength in the face of pain and difficulty.

To me, Malcolm X was a firm believer in the value of identity.  He went through a few identity changes, outwardly changing his name from Malcolm Little to Malcolm X to El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz as a reflection of his inner shifts in identity: from identifying himself as a downtrodden shadow of society, to a bold and relentless fighter for his and his peoples' rights, and finally to a warrior for equality and personal identity.  As he encouraged others to be true to their identity, he discovered his own.

machinor

So it's Engineering week at my university.  What this means for me, an engineering student, is that I get free food. :D

I guess the university wants to try to make engineering look cool so that more people will be interested in it as a major or something.

 

As if they really needed to convince people that it's cool.

A friend of mine believes it's more likely to give a pep talk to those of us already in the program.  We're hitting that awful part of the year when all your tests pile on and your classes smell bad (mostly figuratively) and you can't get enough sleep for the life of you, and so you do irrational things like contemplate switching to be an English major.

Sorry, English majors.

So the college of engineering put up these signs all over campus that say things like
"Without engineers, there would be no water slides or roller coasters or happiness.  You're welcome."

This may be a bit of an exaggeration...maybe...but really, engineers are pretty concerned about improving people's lives and creating new solutions to new problems.  Which is useful and perhaps altruistic in its own way.

Most people have heard of engineers before but it can sometimes be hard to really get a feel for what they do.  Writers write, for example.  Bakers bake, directors direct and actors act, officers office, lawyers lawy, and engineers....engine?

Here is one job description:

"Scientists investigate that which already is;

Engineers create that which has never been." 

-Albert Einstein

In fact, the verb "engineer" has its roots in the Medieval Latin verb for "to design or devise".

It's a pretty broad job description, really...everything has been designed and devised.  Look around you.  The device you're reading this on has been engineered many times over.  Whatever you're standing or sitting on has been carefully designed by an engineer.  A lot of what you're wearing had some engineering involved in its manufacturing, if not in the product itself.  YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY THE PRODUCTS OF ENGINEERS.

So why not become one and participate in the creation of your own future?

 

humanus

So, this choir I'm in just finished working on Brahms' German Requiem.  It's a magnificent piece; if you've never heard it before I recommend you look it up. (The entire requiem is about an hour long, so maybe make a playlist on grooveshark or youtube and just listen to it while you're working on homework or reading...classical music is good for you anyway.)

I'm not going to attempt to conduct any sort of musical analysis here because I'm not much of a musician, but I still think that I can appreciate the music sufficiently to understand what Brahms and I now share.

A nice picture of Brahms looking classy

Although it is not certain, many believe that Brahms' inspiration to compose the piece stemmed from the death of his mother in 1865.  The piece was begun later that same year and finished in 1868.  It is also possible that some of his motivation came from the Schumann family, who a decade previous to this composition had an encounter or two with death.  The second movement is believed to contain some previously discarded material Brahms had written in response to Clara Schumann's mental collapse in 1854.

The work is unique among requiems because while most requiems are traditionally a 'mass for the dead', Brahms' requiem is aimed more toward the living. The German text is brought chiefly from the Bible and communicates a journey through grief and comfort as Brahms (or perhaps the singers, or the audience, or anyone involved at all) learns to put his trust in God and any lingering fear concerning death is converted into a strong faith.

As we prepared to sing this requiem, our choir actually met death a few times; the grandfather of one of our members passed away and she participated in our performance via funeral.  In addition to that, we were informed during our final rehearsal that one of the professors in the music department at our university had been found in his office that morning, dead from a heart attack.  He was young and shouldn't have been at risk for a heart attack, but nevertheless it took him, only a short time after a similar situation took his brother. 

Another music professor told us of his experiences with the Requiem.  When he first prepared to perform it, the time coincided with the death of both his father and his musical mentor, both within a day of each other.  For him, the Requiem offered comfort as he adjusted to life without his fathers.  The next time he participated in the Requiem, he was asked to substitute for someone else who would not be able to perform due to a death.  As he told us of these experiences, he couldn't have known that his colleague was about to leave this realm as well.

It seems that as we immersed ourselves in Brahms' Requiem, we also found ourselves surrounded by news of death. Perhaps there was something about the Requiem that God (or the Universe or whatever you may believe in) found appropriate to call people home with. It seems plausible, but I think if this were the case, paranormal psychologists would be all over the Brahms' Requiem Curse, and...I don't think that's a thing.

What I think is more likely is that the Requiem changed our perspectives and made us more aware of death.  It's a part of life that we sometimes shy away from or find uncomfortable, but in actuality, death is something very dependent upon life.  If you've read Markus Zusaks' The Book Thief, perhaps you'll remember the final chapters of Liesel's life as she embraces death as an old friend.  It's not a particularly happy subject, but it is a  very personal one.

Read The Book Thief.  It's phenomenal.

After journeying through death upon death and realizing that we must all make that journey on our own one day, I understand at least one reason why Brahms later remarked that he would gladly have called the work "Ein menschliches Requiem", or "A Human Requiem", referring more to the audience and the experience of the piece than its distinctive language.

valentini

Today is one of most hated days of the year.  Which is ironic, seeing as the day is dedicated to love.  Well done, society.

I must admit that I have joined in on the Valentine's Day hating too.  Why do we hate it so much though?  It's really not different from any other day of the year--there are single people on February 15th and there are overly passionate couples on February 13th...so there's really nothing special about the 14th to love or hate.
But we've still constructed this silly notion that the 14th of February has to be some magnanimous lovers' event, whether we participate in it or not.

What this results in, more than anything, is people getting their hopes up unreasonably.  I'm not saying that we should avoid hoping, because that would lead to avoiding living, but that we should be reasonable about it all.  For example, if you are single and not currently dating anybody, and not really making much of an effort in the dating scene in general...don't get your hopes up that some fairy tale is going to come along and just happen to you.

If you want to hope for something, you have a degree of obligation, then, to work to make it happen.  Wishing on stars is nice, but it just sets you up for disappointment when you don't do anything about it, and then your wishes never come true.
Funny how that works.

So, we hate Valentine's Day, but it's a little bit of our own faults. Which sucks.

What I suggest we do about this is start loving Valentine's Day. I mean, it's a day dedicated to love...but nobody said that had to be the lustful kind of love. 

Basically I'm saying use the day as an excuse to do something special for your friends and family and other loved ones.  Bake cookies, make a card, eat ice cream, watch horror films...

And if you've been caught down in the woes of "she doesn't know I exist" lately...DO something.  If you're waiting for a Valentine's Day surprise, sitting around is not going to make it happen.  Use the silly holiday you're so fond of as an excuse to do something nice for someone that normally you would have to think up a reason for to avoid looking stupid.

"Hi, I just wanted to stop by and say hi, and....I have no reason to do this other than I want to be with you"

versus

"Hi, i just wanted to say hi and Happy Valentine's Day, and I was wondering if you'd eaten lunch yet? I was just heading to the café...wannna go together?"

One of them sounds so much more reasonable...and promising.

And if you want to get in on the real love, send them a nice nerdy card. :D

So don't hate the day, and don't be so bitter about the situation.  Find a way to love today that fits the love you have.

Happy Valentine's Day, my blog readers. :)  I appreciate you guys!

nobis

We've now had a week of February to enjoy, and if you haven't already heard a few times, it's "Black History Month".

I hope I don't offend anybody by addressing this.  As many of you may know, I myself am not black.  So my perspective may be different because of that.  Even so, I offer my views with all due respect.

To start off, though, I'd like to share God's opinion on it.

Actually it's Morgan Freeman, but if you've seen Evan Almighty, you'll understand.

Here's a portion of an interview a couple years back:

I must say that I agree with Mr. Freeman completely.  Black History is American History, as is Native American History, Asian American History, Third-child-of-a-second-generation-Italian-immigrant-and-a-Malaysian-refugee History...
If American History was limited to the puritans and their descendants, it would be boring indeed.

I also agree that issues like racism are aggravated by people making them issues.  We have more commonalities than differences with most people, but we judge so quickly on what we can see most immediately: skin, tattoos, clothing, sex, kemptness of hair...  It all results in this view of "us" and "them"--people we think are like us, and people we think have nothing to do with us. Eventually, you begin to think that one group of your over-generalized dichotomy is better than the other for one reason, and even if it's something small like "Oh, I just don't think they really understand how to act in this part of town", it's not right.

We all do it, really.  And it doesn't even have to follow racial lines.  For example, I'm a bit discriminatory against people that go to a particular rival university.  It doesn't make that much sense.  But for some reason, I automatically make judgments against people I've never before met solely based on where they go to school.
I guess the first step, though, is admittance.

So how do you celebrate Black History Month (which some would prefer to call American History Month)? Take some time to learn some history, make an effort to be less discriminatory and more accepting, and look for the things you share with other people, whether they're someone you meet now, or someone who is part of the great American history.  See more "us" and less "them".  It's something we all need to work on, and we have a month to make that particular effort.

die musicam mortuus

Today in 1959 marked an important day for music: Indeed, it was the Day the Music Died.

Perhaps this phrase is familiar to you.  No doubt you've heard it before:

On February 3, 1959, a plane crash occurred killing rock icons Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson, as well as their pilot, Roger Peterson.  The flight was disastrous on several levels, the most immediate of which would be the actual crash, which occurred chiefly due to poor weather conditions and unfortunate human error stemming from the pilot.  

This is not necessarily uncommon knowledge, and the mere fact that a couple musicians died prematurely is nothing new for the music industry, neither is it really grounds to dub the day "The Day the Music Died".  That's just overdramatic, right?  But there are many lesser-known events surrounding this disaster that deepen the pain for those involved and perhaps justify its poetic title.

Buddy Holly was going on out a musical limb and starting up a group tour with a new band of his and rising artists Valens and Richardson.  The tour was not particularly well-planned as many concert dates had failed to take into account the distance between their destinations.  Stressful traveling on a poorly-working tour bus led to most tour members contracting influenza, as well as a case of frostbite on drummer Carl Bunch's feet, and frustrated, Buddy Holly decided to charter a plane.  Originally the plane would take Holly and his band to their next destination where they would have some time to rest and recuperate before their next show.  The other members of the tour would follow along in the infamous tour bus, complete with broken heater.  In several turns of events, however, the occupants of the plane were shuffled around:

Dion DiMucci had originally been asked to join the flight, but had passed up his seat because the $36 ticket cost the same amount as the rent for his childhood apartment, and he couldn't justify the lavish expenditure.

Valens asked Tommy Allsup to trade seats, despite his former fear of flight.  The two made the decision on a coin toss.

Richardson, the latest sufferer of the flu among the group, asked Waylon Jennings for his seat on the plane.  Being in better health, Jennings traded his privilege for a ride on the bus.

When Buddy Holly heard that Jennings had given up his seat, he teased him by saying, "I hope your ol' bus freezes up."
Of course, the only way to respond to such a warm wish is, "Well, I hope your ol' plane crashes."
Jennings' unknowing response shadowed him for the rest of his life.

Buddy Holly wore hipster glasses before hipsters were cool.

The crash was a magnificent one. The pilot became disoriented in the low-visibility due to the weather, and various issues with the plane's instruments (specifically the altimeter) combined with the lack of visual cues eventually led to the plane's wing colliding with the ground of a bean patch in Mason City Iowa, a mere five miles after taking off.  Upon impact with the ground at 170 miles per hour, the plane continued to tumble for another 600 feet before coming to rest in a mangled wreck against a fence.

It was declared that all four victims had died instantly from "gross trauma" to the brain.

The reports of the crash were soon aired on television. Holly's bride of six months, María Elena Holly then learned of the disaster and miscarried her two-week-old baby the following day, due to psychological trauma.  She did not attend Holly's funeral, neither has she visited his grave site.  In part, she blames herself for the accident, believing that had she been with him on the tour, he would not have gotten on that plane.

The tour continued on for two weeks following the incident, with Jennings filling Holly's role as lead singer.  The music scene continued on, despite the loss of those three singers.  A song was written about them; Three Stars by Eddie Cochrans. Later, Don McLean's more popular American Pie was released, which introduces the title "The Day the Music Died" as it commemorates that fatal crash, as well as several other allusions to events of the time.

So, did the music actually die that day?  For some, it certainly did.  For most, though, the music just changed and continued on.  A few minor chords were struck, and they resonate differently for each of us, but the music still carries us on.

And if you don't think you know any Buddy Holly songs, you're probably wrong.

(Best part of this song?  The background clapping. :D )