out of the blue

I decided not to go to Paris. It would be more hectic than it's worth (to me, right now). The Norfolk hike would be more intimate. I wouldn't otherwise get to the seaside, or explore the Broads much. That would be rather a shame, living in Norwich. I'll get plenty of exciting continental travel fever when my family comes to visit. Thanks for your input; it seems most of my friends would prefer the hike (at least when living vicariously through me) even though my parents clearly favor Paris.

So far I've managed to avoid getting ridiculously sick over here. But last night I had a headache, which I never get, and a sore throat. I hope this doesn't mean I'm coming down with something. Luckily, the weather is windy and cloudy.

My feet are somewhat cold. I should get some tea to fight off both afflictions.

Thank goodness. It's overcast and windy and cool again. Current temperature: 57. Much more reasonable. While I don't mind nice sunny 75-degree days every once in a while, a long run of them overwhelms quickly. What's more, Thursday and Friday have 30% and 20% chances of rain. I will have to head downtown tomorrow while the cool spell lasts.

Night before last I had a good Skype call with my parents. They tried to browbeat me into visiting Paris for a week or so while I'm over here. It's an appealing idea to spend a week there. But I have an exam in three weeks, and I have to study for it quite a bit. For six days in Paris, it would be at least 240 dollars for hostels. The plane tickets would be 200 dollars. Tickets to get to the airport from Norwich would probably work out to 50 – 80 dollars. Then food, probably an additional 150 (including a meal out). All in all a little over 600 dollars, which I would have to pay back eventually. Plus a lot of hectic travel.

It would also mean that it would be harder for me to make it to the coast. I've been wanting to take a 35 mile hike (plus 5 to get to where it starts, plus another 2 at the end to reach a hotel) to Great Yarmouth one of these days. The path goes through the Norfolk Broads, a lovely region of interconnected rivers, lakes and wetlands. I'd find a bed and breakfast to stay at in Great Yarmouth, and walk on the beach in the sun.

I have to decide today, or the plane ticket prices will rise again.

It's been hitting 70-80 every day here for a few days. It hasn't rained in a week. I already miss it. The forecast doesn't call for rain in the next week, but hopefully we'll get a thunderstorm or something to make up for this dry spell.

Because I am in danger of only talking about the weather (another "tendency" the British are famous for, whether or not it is true), here's some more news. I found a subletter for June – August, which means I probably won't be living in Spokane for the summer. Still looking for a job in Portland, though. If anyone knows of something tech-related (especially web design or programing), feel free to point me at it. I will be your grateful slave for at least five minutes.

The skin between my thumb and forefinger on my right hand is dry and cracked and flaking. Tonight, more than most nights, I need to immerse myself in music. Desolation Row and Tangled Up in Blue; Sitting and 18th Avenue; Vienna and Piano Man. It's only the pieces that fall apart, you know? I'll be fine tomorrow.

I took my first of two exams today. It was difficult; it took the entire three hours. I wasn't fully prepared for every question, but knew enough to write at least something valid for each. Only grades will tell how well I answered. My coursework had respectably high marks.

As is usual, I started studying last night at 12, then slept for a full six hours. I woke up and studied some more, then took the exam from 2 to 5. I ate a chocolate fudge ice cream cone on my way back.

In any event, that's it for a while. My next exam is on the fifth of June. Until then it will be reading, writing, walking downtown in the glorious sunshine and green leaves, and looking for a job to fall into upon return to the States.

Another name in the annals of writers who do genre fiction and are known in fiction award circles: Michael Chabon. His book The Yiddish Policemen's Union just won the Nebula Award and is up for the Hugo Award (the two biggest science fiction/fantasy awards). He won the Pulitzer in 2001 for his book The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. I went to the library today, and the only thing I could find by him was his first novel, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh. Needless to say, I picked it up.

I also got these:

• River of Gods by Ian McDonald
• The Secret Hour by Scott Westerfield
• Looking for Jake and Other Stories by China Miéville
• The Broken Sword by Poul Anderson
• Three Hearts & Three Lions by Poul Anderson

Oh, also: according to Wikipedia the Coen brothers are going to direct a film adaptation of The Yiddish Policemen's Union. This is exciting. How much alternative history fiction do you get from Hollywood?

I've been reading a lot about Ben Stein's film Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed. It is, to be blunt, a deceitful sham of a "documentary". Darwin is selectively and misleadingly quoted. Noted atheistic scientists (Richard Dawkins, PZ Myers) were interviewed under the false pretenses that it was to be a balanced account rather than creationist propaganda, and then shamelessly quote-mined. Even the speech Stein makes is staged with a hand-picked crowd of extras. I would watch it, but it would probably anger me far too much. What's more, in a recent interview Stein expressed his opinion that science led to the Holocaust. If you can think of a more ridiculous and offensive attack than "science = eugenics", please don't tell me about it. I might just explode.

Still, out of such a mockery can come some good. In response to the hateful rhetoric expounded by Ben Stein and his "documentary", PZ Myers posted a powerful video clip from Jacob Bronowski's BBC documentary The Ascent of Man on the history of science.

In it Bronowski, who lost family members and friends to the concentration camps, stands at Auschwitz to discuss its very anti-scientific foundation. Here is a transcript, but watch the video. It is profoundly moving.

It's said that science will dehumanize people and turn them into numbers. That's false, tragically false. Look for yourself. This is the concentration camp and crematorium at Auschwitz. This is where people were turned into numbers.

Into this pond were flushed the ashes of some four million people. And that was not done by gas. It was done by arrogance. It was done by dogma. It was done by ignorance.

When people believe that they have absolute knowledge with no test in reality, this is how they behave. This is what men do when they aspire to the knowledge of gods.

Science is a very human form of knowledge. We are always at the brink of the known. We always feel forward for what is to be hoped. Every judgment in science stands on the edge of error and is personal. Science is a tribute to what we can know, although we are fallible.

In the end, the words were said by Oliver Cromwell: "I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible you may be mistaken."

I owe it as a scientist to my friend Leo Szilard. I owe it as a human being to the many members of my family who died here, to stand here as a survivor and a witness. We have to cure ourselves of the itch for absolute knowledge and power. We have to close the distance between the push-button order, and the human act.

We have to touch people.

(Thanks to Aaron Brown for posting this video, and for providing a good title to steal.)

I hope it's treating you well, and that you're not doing too much work today.

And he said it was very well done. He liked the structure, and said that my enjambments worked well. We talked a bit about the form as opposed to other forms, and what form is to poetry. I walked home with a grin on my face. I couldn't help it.

I will show it to you when it's in its final form. Perhaps you can see the entire portfolio. We shall see.

That's the title of my first terza rima poem. I don't know whether I'm going to share it with you. I'm glad it's finally in a state of completion, though. I've had something of a block on it for a few days. In a few minutes I'll go see if my professor is available to take a look at it and tell me whether it is (as I fear) utter rubbish. But even if it is, I'm glad I got it somewhere, at least.

I am soaked, because I walked to the library in a rainstorm to print this thing out. I like this state of affairs, even if I risk my hair dripping on the printed poetry.

Here I go.