The Excruciatingly Slow Hand of Justice

About time.

In which I implicitly honor the monarchy

Last week I went to see Handel's Messiah at the Knox College chapel. It was good. Because I'm sick to death of writing useful, interesting, informative prose in a linear format, I'm opting for a list!


Chapel:
Like the rest of Knox, fake Gothic with unpolished wood and matte stone. Humble, yet oddly disconcerting; machine-produced materials laboring to appear hand-made. I imagine John Ruskin as a suicide bomber.

Me:
Needlessly fancy.

Date:
Same as above.

Handel:
The story goes that Handel's first performance of the Messiah was not held in London, which was New York in those days, but in Dublin (which was rather like Buffalo). The concert was small, in a church, and used around thirty musicians total. This nights performance is modeled on the Dublin performance, or at least as much as we can put together, which is not a lot, but its a much warmer and ultimately much more human kind of piece; harmony over scale, honesty over pomp. Music for people, not kings.

King George III:
King George III liked the later showings so much that he stood up for the Hallelujah chorus. Now the rule is that everyone has to stand up for that part of the show. I didn't know this, so that part came as a bit of a shock.

Choir:
Seven members, plus the four soloists. When they open their books in unison it reminds me of a flock of birds.

Soloist 1:
Dances a little as he sings. I don't know if this is normal. His hair is curly and his demeanor chirpy. Nice voice too.

Soloist 2:
Eyebrows, beard. Would look good in a devil costume.

Soloist 3:
Looked very very sad for the sad parts. Unsure how to interpret.

Sheep:
We like them?

Couple sitting in front of us:
The guy looks suspiciously like a young Bill Gates.

Rest of audience, excluding author and company:
Graying. This is the first time I've been around people not between 18-25 in months and it is good to be near them.

The Night:
Cold, dark, empty, completely beautiful. Stars are very bright. I scuttle home down university in a large green coat, head bent and ears ringing.



(P.S. Thanks ma and pa. It was really good.)

The End?

Dear Readers,

I know I've been rather negligent with updating this thing for the last month or so. But as of last night at 5 or so, finals are finally done. Forever. I am now done with my college career.

(Subdued cheering from the exhausted villagers. John crosses the finish line. The propaganda minister applauds wildly then makes snide remarks under his breath.)

I now have a week which I hope to spend doing interesting things in toronto, which will hopefully translate in to interesting reading. I may also put up posts of other interesting and worthwhile things out here from earlier in the semester that haven't gotten written yet. So we'll see.

In the meantime, here are some photos from our (Bojan, Helen, self) adventures into the closed shopping mall under our hall.

Further adventures in Toronto strangers

Episode 1:

"Gnnaaaaaaaaaggghhh."

Somewhere between death metal and laringitus. I look around me, startled; seemingly empty transit station, merchant stalls, magazines, gum, tile floor. Not another soul in sight.

"Gnaaaaggghh."

Suddenly notice the guy behind the counter, doing what I think is clearing his throat. Except its at a customer, similarly just materialized and who walks away looking disconcerted. Death-metal-laringitis glances towards me. I glance first at the magazines (scientific american) then seeing that he's going to try to sell me something, quickly exit the station.

Fear trumps curiosity.

Episode 2:

Act 1:
A pirate is going down the steps to the subway. I only notice him just before he vanishes, but one of the disembarking passengers and lock eyes and he nods towards tricorn hat now making its way down the stairs, amused. As am I.

Act 2:
Pirate sighted smoking in front of Polish League Hall with group of homeless people. He is wearing sneakers.

RED SHADOW

What would make Marx better? How about an economics Rock Band! (That's Red Shadow kids!)



Thanks to the ever cognizant Jake, who recommends only wonderful things.

Globalization

As we enter these later days of GM's existence, it's worthwhile to pause and consider just how much better the Asians do everything that Westerners think they can do. (And without the help of the government either!)

Further Adventures in Choirs

This is a superb idea: