Friday, September 30

Merton StreetTo my mild astonishment, I learned last night that the quad that contains the JCR bar is called the 'Ho Chi Minh' Quad. While I was aware that Wadham is an almost notoriously progressive college, I retain an ability to be surprised by such things. Perhaps luckily, the place now seems to be filled with noisy colonies of undergraduates, all milling about and playing darts. It's not a place in which I am likely to while away too many hours. Aside from my room in Library Court and, to a much lesser extent, the library itself and the MCR, I have found no such place thus far. I am hoping that some kind of cheap and tasty curry point might help correct that.

This evening brought with it an attempt to reach the next village over - Marston - by means of an extended walk, which began in quite the wrong direction. Nora and I made it as far as the Hertford College sports grounds, which I later identified using the A to Z map of Oxford which I purchased with Sarah in London. After having spent the last week wandering the not-so-numerous streets of the town, going a bit farther afield was welcome. Among the sights on the walk: the Oxford Castle, alongside the ruins of its predecessor, as well as Nuffield College and the 'river' Cherwell. After turning back into town, we wandered the cobbled streets near Merton for a long while. It was there that, halfway up a wall, I took a perch and did my best to impersonate a gargoyle.

While it is odd to comment in writing on a person whilst they are in the room, I can say without danger of offence or misrepresentation that Nora makes a fine wandering companion. The comprehension of a place must always be the comprehension of at least one person as well, and both of those parallel mental developments take place most enjoyably and effectively by means of extended conversation.

Aside from the further development of my intuitive sense of Oxford geography, today was spent in a series of half-hearted attempts at reading the Hollis and Smith book. In addition to that, I configured my Oxford email address (milan.ilnyckyj at politics dot ox dot ac dot uk), though, like my former UBC address, it will serve merely as a forwarding point for GMail. Some of the underlying architecture of the blog underwent some tinkering today as well.

Returning to the panopticon from our long walk, I was confronted with a mass of interesting emails - not the kind of generic UBC mass mailings that clutter my inbox, when it is not full of the most shocking kinds of scams and product offers, but substantive messages from friends. Hearing from friends back home is quite rewarding and does much to dispel the sense of isolation that can accompany a new and strange place. Re-reading and responding to them will make up the first item on the to-do list which I will eventually formulate for tomorrow.

PS. The publishing of this post was delayed by seven hours, due to server trouble.

Posted by Milan at 9:43 AM  

Thursday, September 29

The Manor Road BuildingHollis, Martin and Steve Smith. Explaining and Understanding International Relations. Chapter 4: Understanding:
"When it rains, those who predicted otherwise are proved wrong and those who refuse to believe it is raining get as wet as anyone else."
We had university orientations today, which ranged from useful to quite pointless. The best part about them was meeting Margaret Irving, who is doing her M.Phil in economics, and Kate Stinson, who is in my program. Kate was kind enough to show me to the Manor Road building, where the Politics and International Relations Department is located. It is right beside her college: Sain Catz. Aggressively modern, the Manor Road building looks absolutely brand new, though ultimately quite uninspired. It is a collection of concrete and glass that looks like it will be highly functional for working in, but still ends up feeling a bit like the shamelessly western shopping malls that I found littered around Prague.

Wadham Colleg received my replacement Bodeleian card today: also spelled wrong. On a better note, the college fixed my sink this morning, which has been incredibly slow at draining since I arrived. In the afternoon, after attending a second batch of less than useful international orientation sessions, I spent a while drinking tea in my room with Nora, listening to miscellaneous music while I read my Hollis and Smith and she read Lolita: the only fictional book I brought with me.

Later, a whole group of new and existing Wadham students headed up to a pub between here and Merifield, the graduates only accommodation about a mile from here, where Bilyana lives. The pub itself was mediocre, but I met some interesting people. Foremost among them: Melati, an Indonesian-born M.Phil student in oriental studies. Born in Indonesia, she lived in San Francisco much more recently and did her undergraduate work at the University of Chicago. I hope very much that I shall see her again.

After wandering back from the bar, amidst all the minor discomforts of a serious downpour, we headed to the JCR bar and then the MCR with bottles of cheap college wine in hand. While at least twenty graduates are still there - a cluster of Canadians perhaps still singing "Barrett's Privateers," now seemed the time to take my leave.

I've met a great many people on the superficial, 'let's exchange names and talk amicably for a while' level. I've met far fewer people on the 'I anticipate and look forward to future conversations' level. Priority one, right now, is to make a few actual friends. By that, I mean people who I care about in a specific and directed way and who feel likewise about me. Such people are the foundation of my sanity and whatever accomplishments to which I can lay claim. That position described, I should get a bit of sleep.

PS. There are so many Rhodes Scholars about that one feels utterly ashamed about having no particular academic distinction.

Posted by Milan at 1:15 AM  

Tuesday, September 27

Inside the dome at Rhodes HouseThis afternoon, I spent a good stretch of time with Bilyana: the Bulgarian mathematics student who showed us around Jericho earlier. She showed me her master's thesis, on an esoteric kind of planar graph theory. Apparently, only ten people in the world are doing work in the area. Suffice it to say, I understood not a word, though I was suitably impressed. Having just finished her previous degree a week ago, she has been propelled into her D.Phil program almost immediately. She showed me a good little coffee shop (The Alternative Tuck Shop) a block up from the side gate of the college, left up Hollywell Street. She also led me to Rhodes House, which is quite a handsome structure, though quite depopulated when we were in it. She has invited me to dinner in the MCR on Friday, which I look forward to quite a bit.

Outside, between the main quad and the library, I met Houston: the social coordinator of the MCR committee. He and Bilyana know each other and, after she headed off to the library to do some reading, I spoke with him for about half an hour about Oxford, Wadham, and such. My already considerable excitement about Wadham social events has been increased by his descriptions of them. As has been the case with almost everyone here, he was very welcoming and helpful. At this point, I don't think anything could diminish my enthusiasm for the year ahead.

Getting laundry done at Wadham is quite the affair. To begin with, you need to pay £10 just for the card (around C$22), which then needs to be charged with at least £5. You then need to descend to the most concealed, unsignposted, and smelliest part of the undergraduate area, where you will discover that there is no laundry soap to be had for love or money. Also, the dryers are so inadequate that I've set up a clothesline in my room, rather than putting more money into them. Unfortunately, taking the bus to North Vancouver in order to do my laundry is an unlikely option from here.

The Hollis and Smith book contains a lot of matter about the philosophy of science: for instance, Sir Karl Popper's ideas about conjectures and refutations. I suppose that so long as IR is walking around pretending to be a science, such discussion will be necessary. As that sentence indicates, I don't buy it for a moment. Maybe finishing the book will make me less confident in that belief. It just strikes me as daft to look for objective laws in something as complex and self-influencing as international organizations: a term that has itself become more and more of a misnomer as non-state actors have gained influence. Issues directly related to IR aside, Kuhn's theory of paradigms is interesting and compellingly expressed.

This evening, Nora gave me a CD of Led Zeppelin songs as a gift. Many of them, I don't think I have ever heard before. I explained to her last night, during our long conversation, how my brother Sasha's relationship with Led Zeppelin is somewhat akin to mine with Pink Floyd, which is to say one of considerable appreciation. Perhaps this CD will rebalance my opinion towards the one that Nora and Sasha share. While it's far too early to determine my final opinion of the music, it has made an enjoyable and amusing backdrop to my reading.

Despite standing invitations to go hang out with other Library Court residents at The Lamb and Flag, on St. Giles Street, as well as to go for a walk with Nora, I think I will just read a few more chapters and go to sleep early. All day, I have been feeling less than perfectly well. Despite large-scale consumption of 3 for £2 bottles of Sainsbury's orange juice, things seem to be worsening rather than improving. Given that I am meant to be at the Examination Schools at 9:30am tomorrow to begin graduate student orientations, a good dose of sleep may be just the thing.

PS. Something anonymously linked on Tristan's blog has made me even more distressed about the parlous state of liberal democracy in America today. In what I can only take as an ironic endorsement of the American Library Association's Banned Books Week, it seems that the FBI is re-prioritizing from counter-terrorism to something much more unconstitutional and worrisome.

Posted by Milan at 9:37 PM  

A cluster of Canadian Rhodes ScholarsThis morning, as on previous mornings, I've been reminded how the panopticon is more of a panaudiocon. Despite my total lack of an alarm clock, I've been awake before 9:30am each day. This is something I would have been hard pressed to do in Vancouver, under such circumstances and when going to bed around 2:00am, but here it has been automatic. Less automatic today, I suppose, when one of the 'scouts' and I were able to terrify one another quite thoroughly when she came striding through my unlocked door as I was asleep. Despite that minor incident, life here is developing as before. A number of other people have now moved into Library Court and the staircase that you must pass through to get here. In England, it seems, the word 'staircase' can denote a dormitory.

I took my first books out of the Wadham Library this morning, which was a delight. I found Hollis and Smith's Explaining and Understanding International Relations through the Oxford Libraries telnet service. Right beside it, I found the Bull's The Anarchical Society and Carr's International Relations Since the Peace Treaties: classics, both. The process of withdrawing them was equally excellent. I just scanned my Bodeleian card, still bearing a misspelled name, and then the books.

This afternoon, I read the articles by Simon Critchley that Tristan sent me in response to my general hostility towards critical theory and abstract analysis of international relations. Personally, I feel more sympathy towards a view of Marx that is much more critical than Critchley's, though reading the articles was interesting - despite what a small fraction of them I understood. Reading these articles is exactly like reading a complex book in French, where I have only the vaguest sense of what all the complicated words mean and where I struggle along looking for short and straightforward sentences that can be the anchors of my shaky understanding.

Critchley's second article, on Derrida, makes reference to "patient, meticulous, [and] scrupulous" reading. Stressing the importance of that probably highlights the major difference in approach between philosophers and me. I don't do patient, meticulous, or scrupulous reading. Reading is a springboard into new ideas: part of a breathless race into territory that at least seems new. Taking on a new text is just a way of getting a few more girders to hold up the causeway you are building for yourself. Maybe that is sloppy scholarship, and I am not particularly keen to defend it, but it seems to me that if we want to change the world, we don't have time to "read... the text in its original language, knowing the corpus of the author as a whole, being acquainted with its original context and its dominant contexts of reception." Doing so is a kind of prison; it allows you to perform startling feats of analysis, but principally ones that can only be understood by fellow initiates. Through the process of becoming de-alienated from a particular author, you become alienated from the rest of humanity, Still, I am quite willing to accept that philosophical texts 'stay fresh' for longer than works in international relations or environmental politics do. Perhaps that means that enough people can develop an adequate corpus of knowledge for broad debate on technical matters to take place. Whether such debate actually tangibly impacts the rest of the world, however, I remain profoundly uncertain about.

After reading for a while, I met with Joanna Coryndon again to have my Bodleian card corrected. I also started the week long process of opening a bank account and getting a credit card here, as well as having some photographs of myself printed for the college. My second foray to Sainsbury's involved the acquisition of large amounts of organic vegetables, six kinds of cheese, and many bagels.

In the evening, I met Abra, Ben, and several others who were on their way to get some dinner. We ended up meeting about fifteen people outside the Burger King on the high street. All were Canadians, and we introduced ourselves to one another by hometown and academic specialization. It struck me as vaguely odd, right off, that a large contingent already seemed to know one another quite well. In the end, we went to The Head of the River: the pub right beside the Folly Bridge. There, I learned that I was sitting at a table with six of the Canadian Rhodes Scholars - members of the group I had perceived the outline of beforehand. While quite intellectually intimidating, it was also quite thrilling. To be living twenty metres from a Rhodes scholar and to have the email addresses of two others in my wallet is an odd sensation.

After leaving, we walked back to Wadham by means of Magdalen College, where one of the most interesting Rhodes Scholars I met is living. Back in Wadham, we visited the bar in the JCR for the first time. In my case, two more pints of Guinness were added to the one I had already consumed - a progression that partially explains my lack of desire to write at too great a length about tonight's happenings.

Suffice it to say that I met an interesting young student of literature at the JCR, who is also a photographer in possession of one of the best accents I have ever encountered. I hope it will not be our last meeting. Once Andy, Ben, Kelly, etc. departed from the bar, I was left talking fruitfully with Nora. From there to an eventually rather rain-swept bit of roof near Library Court, we spoke for another couple of hours. I am a bit hesitant to write about it because I think it more than likely that she will eventually find her way here. It's not that I couldn't post a transcript without embarrassing her intellect in the slightest; it's a matter of disclosure and non-disclosure.

I wonder how long it will take for Oxford water to be the 'normal' or baseline water for me. Quite possibly around the time when my current kind of tea, brewed in such water, eclipses in my mind the primacy of the Murchie's Earl Grey to which Kate first introduced me, and which I sat sipping at kitchen tables in Fairview with Meghan and Tristan for hours on end.

Things I need:
  1. More towels
  2. An alarm clock that doesn't get fried by 240V power
  3. French press
  4. A second pair of dark, non-torn pants

Posted by Milan at 1:28 AM  

Monday, September 26

The Isis, seen from the Folly BridgeAs soon as I saw the Library Court - two levels of rooms clustered around a central courtyard, with only thin curtains blocking a direct view into one another's rooms - I was reminded of Bentham's panopticon model prison. Thus, 'The Panopticon' has become the nickname of our shared space.

Two more Canadian law students joined us in Library Court around 2:30 today, after the rest of us shared lunch in the MCR. One is from Ontario, the other from Montreal. The young woman from Ontario, Abra (Joelle Faulkner), was being aided in the process of moving in by yet another Canadian, the captain of the women's hockey team. It's quite astonishing to be in a residence in a foreign country where, so far, five out of the seven residents are Canucks. The process of collegiate population remains a very exciting one.

I did actually manage to spend some time in the Wadham College library. Somewhat disappointingly, there is no political science of international relations section. It will therefore be more of a place where reading and work can be done than an actual resource for me. Still, it's a nice thing to have immediately downstairs and open 24 hours a day. Given the astonishing amount of reading in my program, I have the feeling that libraries will become a frequent haunt.

I finished The Metaphysical Club this afternoon, a book that certainly wandered extensively between disciplines, time periods, and different lives. Not having much knowledge about the people and times presented, it was difficult to follow. Nonetheless, I think it was quite worthwhile. I learned quite a bit about things like jurisprudential theory and railway strikes during the period following the American Civil War. Likewise, it included much that was interesting about the nature of education and academia, as well as the purpose and usefulness of both.

The discussion of tolerance, and its connection with the philosophical doctrine of pragmatism as explored by Holmes, James, Peirce, and Dewey, seems particularly relevant today. As during the cold war, democratic societies are struggling to determine a mechanism for balancing pluralism (in culture and ideas) with the need to respond to an external ideological threat. The parallel is inexact, but the concerns are the same.

After finishing The Metaphysical Club, I took a brisk walk from Wadham College to Folly Bridge, by means of as many alleys and small streets as I could manage. I then made my way back up to the college more directly, along the road that passes the entrance to the Christ Church quad and the Oxford museum. Upon returning to the Panopticon, I spoke with Tristan over Skype for a while before repeating nearly the same walk with Nora in darkness, taking more than four hours instead of less than one. Judging by comments on the last entry, I failed spectacularly to express the overall character of my conversations with her. The disagreements to which I made reference are not an impediment to discourse, but rather the basis of a profitable one. While elements of her thinking are quite different from my own, there is nonetheless a considerable extent to which these discussions are the foundation of my only substantial relationship in Oxford so far.

While walking back to Wadham the second time, I had my first experience with one of the notorious Oxford kebab vans, from which I purchased a large box of vinegar-soaked chips for £1.50. Having missed our increasingly-traditional shared dinner in the MCR due to my first walk, it was a welcome correction.

I now have my schedule for what is called 0th week, or freshers' week. It includes plenty of orientations from the college, university, and department. It also features a great deal of social content: notably a school uniform bop (dance) on Friday, October 7th. Another useful fact I've discovered is that, even though the Wadham Library has no IR section, they do have one of the recommended pre-readings for my M.Phil course. I will go and have a look at it tomorrow, as well as ferrying some new documents to Joanna Coryndon, having yet more passport sized photographs printed for the college, and trying again to open a bank account.

Posted by Milan at 1:19 AM  

Sunday, September 25

People in The TurfToday was mostly very social, though I did make some progress in the Menand book. Ben and Andy - the two Canadian graduate law students living in Library Court - joined Nora, Kelly, and I for a walk around Oxford in the late morning. We visited a number of the colleges, saw some gardens, walked over to the Thames, and had lunch in a nice local pub that Kelly discovered, called The Wheatsheaf. Their spicy bean burger was much better than I would have expected a vegetarian dish in a British pub to be. At the end of the walk, I purchased an electric kettle, teapot, and some loose tea. The tea is a bit lacking in bergamot oil and the teapot is seriously lacking in a filter to strain out the loose tea, but I will certainly figure it out in the end.

Our triad-come-pentad seems quite neatly balanced. I seem to fit reasonably well between our two medieval historians and the two lawyers, insofar as they tend to break off into discipline-matched pairs which I've been able to integrate myself into reasonably well. I have the strong sense that this group will hold together in an important way once the pressure of school becomes apparent. Actually, the existence of a community of fellow scholars, not necessarily in the same discipline, strikes me as an important counterweight to the anxieties that will inevitably emerge. A school where 85% is literally the best possible grade and where praise, if it exists, is sparing will take a bit of getting used to.

At dinner tonight, the five present members of Library Court were joined by a former inhabitant: a young Bulgarian mathematician who finished her M.Phil here last year and has now progressed into a D.Phil program in statistics. Knowledgeable and friendly, she gave us some advice about life in Oxford and then led us on a bit of a tour. For fear of butchering it in a way similar to how every branch of Oxford has butchered mine, I shall not attempt to spell her name yet. We visited the pub that Hannah recommended to us earlier, but found it too busy to be of use. We then had a drink at the King's Arms - the pub owned by Wadham College - before going for a walk up to Jericho and then back down to Wadham. Colleges, pubs, and Marks and Spencer seemed to be the focus of today's wanderings.

After we got back, I spent a few hours conversing with Nora atop one of the roofs of the college, looking out over the spires of the city and the dome of the Radcliffe Camera. Largely personal while outside, the conversation became much more political when we retired for tea. Among the people I've met so far, I've definitely encountered the greatest conversational depth with Nora, which is not to say that we understand things similarly. She is disarmingly pro-capitalist and Jeffersonian, in the strength of her anti-government conviction. It's a position to which I have difficulty responding and that makes me wish my recollections about political theory were a bit sharper. It does, in any event, demonstrate the difficulty that intelligent, civil people can have in understanding one another when they are approaching matters on the basis of sharply differing premises. I find myself occasionally quite flabbergasted by her statements: reduced by astonishment to being quite unable to rebut them effectively, or as effectively as I am sure someone like Tristan or Sarah Pemberton could.

Notably, Nora spent two years teaching high school history in North Carolina. She also had to swim across a channel where the bridge had been washed out by a hurricane in order to catch her plane to get to Oxford.

Possibly due to the hour, possibly due to a sudden infusion of tea, I am feeling less than entirely well and should probably get some rest. Tomorrow is another day and, since many of my neighbours will be going to mass in the morning, I may have a chance to do a bit of pre-reading for my course, undistracted by more appealing options.

Posted by Milan at 2:10 AM  

Saturday, September 24

The main quad of Wadham CollegeWhen I arrived in Oxford, it was raining. I made my way from the train station, with bags in hand and strapped to my body, guided by the map I bought with Sarah, until I reached Wadham College. With little difficulty, I found the Porter, who gave me the keys to my room in Library Court. My windows open onto a balcony that overlooks a courtyard, with the college library beneath it.

Within minutes of arriving in my room (before I was even unpacked), I met Kelly, the Alabaman student of ancient languages and medieval history who is living in the room beside mine. She means to stay in England permenantly. I spoke with her for about half an hour, sharing tea in her room. She has helped me to become somewhat oriented, a process that was enlarged upon later when I made visits to the Domestic Bursar's office and the Tutorial Office. Before doing so, however, I met another resident of the upper portion of the Library Court: Nora, who is from North Carolina. She and Kelly are studying Latin together for an hour each morning and afternoon.

After giving myself a bit of a tour of the college, I set off back into town: intent upon at least starting the process of opening a bank account. Unfortunately, NatWest won't give a free youth rail card to international students opening accounts, as they will for domestic ones. I shall, in any event, have to wait until Monday for any banking stuff to move forward. I was able, nonetheless, to purchase some groceries to tide me over until the college begins serving dinners at start of term. Even then, it will be up to us to produce our own breakfasts and lunches. I have a very small fridge in my room and there is another down in the shared kitchen for the Library Court residents. We each have an en-suite washroom with a sink, as well as shared shower rooms on the floor below.

As I came back from shopping, I found my way down to the computer room and met Richard Leach, the IT Assistant. He set me up with a temporary keycard for the side gate of the college and the library. Since the Bodeleian cards for the other Wadham grad students are not yet working, I am probably the only graduate student at Wadham who has such access.

This evening, I had a lovely dinner with Nora and Kelly. We made pasta with sauce infused with fresh vegetables. Accompanying it was a bottle of Shiraz that I purchased at Sainsbury's for £4.50. All told, both the preparation and the consumption of the meal were most enjoyable. Nora provided me with a somewhat detailed overview of British history from 54 A.D. until the time of Richard I, to be continued at a later date. The part that stuck in my mind is mostly about how a great deal of time was spent fighting one another, Scots, Danes, and such. After dinner, we retired to Kelly's room again and combined the drinking of tea with what became a conversation (read, somewhat heated debate) about the importance of understanding the thought processes and reasoning of terrorists, whether we consider their actions justifiable and rational or not.

In short, I've been impressed by my first day in Oxford. The initial rain soon became a nicely diffused sunshine that complimented my initial wanderings. I've also had the excellent fortune of making the acquaintance of two neighbouring D.Phil students who are good conversationalists. Right at the end of this evening, we were joined by another member of the upper gallery of the Library Court: a 27 year old former Osgood law student with a focus on international humanitarian law. A bit odd to have two young women from the southern United States and two Canadians suddenly living together, but definitely not a bad arrangement. For the first time ever in residence, I am excited about my neighbours and glad to live in their company. I am glad I came early. I am glad I chose Oxford. Many anxieties have been neatly quashed today.

I was astonished a moment ago to see the time. Even with whatever effects jet lag should be producing, I still feel quite energetic. In the morning, we are going to meet for breakfast, along with the newest addition to our social and self-orientation group. In consideration of that, I should go to bed. Since all of the college bureaucracy will be closed for the weekend, I am supposing it will be best spent in meeting people and getting a start on my reading, by means of the key card that Richard so helpfully provided for me,

Posted by Milan at 1:43 AM  

Friday, September 23

Published from 11 Library Court, Wadham College, Oxford

Milan on the Millenium Bridge in London. Photo by Sarah JohnstonSitting on the train to Oxford, from London, I am thinking back on the exceptionally extended day that was yesterday. Sleepless on Tuesday night, I spent much of the flight to London in a kind of uneasy resting trance: punctuated by turbulence and the screaming of infants. As it worked out, I had one such child on each side of me.

Unable to find a bus to Oxford from Gatwick Airport, I decided to take the train into London. I arrived at Victoria Station at 5:00am in the local time. Knowing that I couldn't carry on thinking of myself as a fairly decent human being if I called Sarah so soon, I spend the next two and a half hours reading The Metaphysical Club. It's a book about which I cannot possibly hope to hold on to the details, once I am finished, but about which I've appreciated the general thrust. In particular, I like the bits about the nature of the Northern abolitionist movement in the United States prior to the civil war, as well as the lengthy section discussing the evolution and frequent misapplication of statistics.

At 7:30, I called Sarah and then conveyed myself - along with my weight in baggage - from Victoria Station to a tube station in the northeast part of greater London, where she met me. She and her fiancee Peter are living in a flat immediately beside the construction site where their new and permanent home is being constructed. Glad to be able to leave my bags there, I headed back into town with Sarah for a day of wandering.

We began by visiting Covent Garden, one of many places that I remember from my prior visit in the summer of 2001. Nearby, we visited Sarah's favourite map shop and I got small maps of London and Oxford. Just having them in my pocket, I feel less out-of-place. From there, we briefly visited Trafalgar Square: with Nelson's column, Canada House, and hordes of marauding pigeons on display. Afterwards, we stopped by University College London, where swarms of international students are waiting in long lines in colour coded sections. Naturally, I got my photo taken beside the preserved corpse of famed utilitarian Jeremy Bentham. We then met with Peter for lunch in the building where he works; Sarah tells me that the Ministry of Truth in Orwell's 1984 is modeled after it. It was also a favourite building of Adolph Hitler, who apparently intended to make it into his headquarters once he conquered Britain.

After cappuccinos and conversation with Peter - who works at digitizing data when not doing historical research towards his PhD - Sarah and I took the tube to Saint Paul's, crossed the Millennium Bridge, and visited the Tate Modern Gallery. She had never been there before and I took care to bring her into the building through its soaring atrium. A converted power station, the Tate Modern has a very distinctive aesthetic that I quite appreciate. Wandering through at about three times standard, respectful museum walking speed, we realized that we have a view of modern art that is not overly dissimilar.

Back at Peter and Sarah's flat, we had lasagna and wine for dinner. Despite the interesting conversation, I found myself seriously wavering by 9:30, having not properly slept since Monday night - some sixty hours previously. This morning, I woke up around 7:30am, feeling much more awake than I would have dared to hope for. Sarah accompanied me along the streets and through the tube to Paddington Station.

As was the case last summer, I am overwhelmed with appreciation for Sarah's exceptional hospitality. It changes the whole character of arriving in a strange place to have a helpful friend there. I shall have no such friends in Oxford, but this day in London has mitigated many of my concerns about that.

PS. Let it be known that the Shane Koyczan CD that Sasha Wiley gave me (American Pie Chart) and the Apocalyptica CD that Drew Gave me (Reflections) are both superb. They enriched the plan ride and the days before it.

Posted by Milan at 1:47 PM  

Wednesday, September 21

Farewell to Vancouver, and the West

Hilary McNaughton and I, Edgemont Village. Photo credit: Jonathan MorissetteSome sort of melancholic poem might be appropriate here, but I've been too busy to prepare one.

Tomorrow morning, I am to wake at 4:30am in order to cross town to the airport, get through whatever kind of security screening they feel inclined to subject me to, and board my 8:30am flight. Stopping in Edmonton en route, I should reach Gatwick Airport, outside London, around 3:40am on Thursday (GMT).

I am not the only one heading off during this space of time. As I understand it, Neal is in the air right now on his way to China. In the next few days, Kerrie and Nolan will be leaving for Ghana. I wish all of them the very best, and a safe journey.

Meeting with people during the past few days, as well as speaking with them and corresponding, has been highly gratifying. Meeting Jonathan, Emerson, Hilary, and Nick at various times today was likewise very welcome. Speaking to Meghan, Viktoria, Sarah, et all was certainly also appreciated. By far the biggest negative aspect of going to Oxford will be the breadth of separation created between my family, friends, and I. Undoubtedly, the two years will provide at least a few new ones. With luck, I'll have the chance to introduce them to people who come visit me in Oxford.

I really should have cleared the contents of my cell phone after calling everyone to say goodbye, but, alas, Meghan Mathieson can testify to the quality of my memory. If I missed you, it's probably because I didn't have a copy of your phone number archived somewhere in my GMail folders.

In any case, I still have a few little bits of packing to do, which I'd like to deal with before it gets late. It's impressive how all the bits and bobs that I've spent so long sorting and packing will probably amount to very little once I actually get to Oxford. I will not, for instance, have the slightest thing with which to decorate my room. All such concerns really ought to be pushed aside for the moment, however. When next I write, I shall still be your faithful blogging correspondent: now with a United Kingdom posting.

Posted by Milan at 6:06 AM  

Tuesday, September 20

Packing in North VancouverAside from a few well-deserved breaks, today was all packing. Things staying behind were put into large plastic or cardboard boxes and then duct taped shut and piled in the closet. Things coming along have been piled hither and thither, in anticipation of the moment where the suitcases will come out and their ultimate fate is being decided.

The first and most extensive of the well-earned breaks was to have coffee in the Village with Jonathan. Tea, actually, for me, but that's beside the point. After he headed off to meet Dania, I spoke briefly with Cheryl (from my grad class) and Lana (who works at Delany's).

It strikes me as quite important right now to think as little as possible about the whole leaving for two years thing. Otherwise, I am liable to get very sad and spend anguished hours contemplating how far I will be from some truly wonderful people. Clearly, that kind of sentimentalism is less than productive and, with great piles of every dimension and description strewn about the entire basement, I haven't the time for such sumptuousness.

Going to England, it also seemed wise to apply some of the Gore-Tex enhancing spray that Meghan and I bought for the Bowron Lakes adventure to my jacket. A few precious books, perhaps some photographs, and the scotch from Ashley will all be squirreled away in my various suitcases. Due to a combination of getting residence in College and being daunted by the dimensions of the box I got for it, the bicycle will be spending the next two years decorating the area under my parents' porch. I've always been much more of a walker anyways. If I had time for more symbolic gestures, some grossly elaborated stroll would be just the thing.

As it happens, it looks as though I will be having a Galleria sandwich for lunch, as I told Hilary I would. Hopefully, Jonathan will come along, as he will just be finishing his shift at Whole Foods. Seeing Alison and Sarah Pemberton would also be ideal, though we will have to see what can be managed. Tomorrow night, there is to be some kind of a terminal family dinner.

Despite an eleventh hour email from her, I don't think there is much chance of seeing Kate before my departure. While it would have been wonderful to do so (as it has been wonderful to see off so many others), it strikes me as ultimately more important that we are both keen on meeting than it would have been to carry the desire through to completion. We live through the impacts that we have on the minds of others and it makes me feel somewhat redeemed to be back somewhere near Kate's good graces. I hope she will be among those who visit me in Oxford.

Posted by Milan at 4:40 AM  

Monday, September 19

Jonathan, Sasha, me, and Ashley at my departure partyThe departure party was wonderful; my thanks go out to everyone who showed up. In particular, I'd like to thank everyone who brought food and wine (with which the party was most amply provided). Also, thanks to those who brought music to feed to the iBook, to Meaghan for bringing me flowers, and to Ashley for bringing single malt scotch. Now, after having up at 4:30pm and spending a few hours cleaning up, I finally feel as though I am really leaving. Suddenly, I have no time.

I will miss you all.

Seeing so many friends together is always a gratifying experience. On the brink of a long journey, it is always extremely comforting to know that you will be missed. In particular, it was good to see some of the people who I've been unable to see often of late, like Sasha and Greg. The party went exceedingly late, with the last guest leaving around 7am, and generally served as a very fitting prelude to my departure. I feel as though I should write more about it, but it's always easier to write about bad or frustrating times than good ones. In any case, photos are now online.

During these next few days, I need to finish packing - both things coming with me into suitcases and things staying into neatly stacked boxes. I will not be bringing any photographs, but I suspect I will be glad of the thousand or so that I've taken in the last week or so with the digital camera. The only problem with it has been the terrible flash metering: so bad it makes me wonder whether this particular camera is defective somehow. Perhaps I should exchange it.

Posted by Milan at 4:05 AM  

Saturday, September 17

My dear friend Alison BenjaminThe instant I got back from the shortened hike, or rather about three quarters of the way through the zombie movie Jonathan and I were watching afterwards, life suddenly became a lot busier. Aside from an unbloggable surprise, I came home to a large mangled envelope from Wadham College. Along with a trio of order forms for caps, gowns, and other similarly silly regalia, they want me to ask permission for every electrical device I am bringing, by means of a request form. They also want five more photos (in addition to the seven I have already sent at various times), a medical questionnaire, a student contact information form, and some other miscellaneous paperwork. The oddest things is the condition of the package, which has the look of having been treated with genuine cruelty by the people at the post office.

Sarah has eased my concerns about the Oxford reading list considerably. I'd also like to thank her again for suggesting Wadham College. Reading through their materials, I am glad to see that they are much less stuffy than I feared a college might be. In particular, their Queer Bop sounds like great fun. There is enormous pleasure that can be had from taking leave of one's inhibitions, when in the company of people who you respect and who have a sense of irony. Their stated aim: "to provide a humane and civilised environment for intellectual and personal growth" could also hardly be improved.

Otherwise, I spent tonight finishing my comprehensive read of this week's Economist. After eight years and around 400 issues, it's not a thing I will be dropping at Oxford - regardless of the reading load they demand. I maintain that I have learned more about politics, history, and the world at large from this one publication than from any other identifiable source. If I could inject one changed preference into the mind of my youngest brother, it would certainly be the substitution of a love of reading for the elongated pointlessness that is ceaseless computer gaming.

So, the departure party is tomorrow. For many of you, this will be the last chance to see me during the next two years - barring the surprise of a return to Vancouver before the completion of the M.Phil. I am excited about the party and I hope the attendance will be good. I see it as a chance to move forward the process of forgetting the short-term irritations that can strain relationships and leave things on a good footing before my departure. Clearly, that can't be achieved with everyone in so short a time and among so many others but, between these last weeks, the party, and the few days to come, I will do what I can. Shirley Hazzard remarks that "when a man returns, it is usually to women;" the converse is equally true. Above all, it is women from whom I am departing.

Thinking about the unbloggable surprise, I sometimes feel that all of life is nothing but a shambles: a rough tangle of thoughts and experiences and histories that are impossible to pin down or agree upon. Sometimes, I feel menaced by the past. Often, I feel threatened by the future. In the end, I suppose I muddle along - sometimes inspired, sometimes enamoured - but mostly propelled by an ancient energy that is ultimately quite outside of me. It's a stream beyond individual intention that just sweeps us all along, towards the inevitable unknown.

Posted by Milan at 5:34 AM  

Friday, September 16

Happy Birthday Sarah Stewart

Jonathan at Mosquito CreekLast night, I followed the link that Marga Lyall sent me to the M.Phil in International Relations reading list. Looking at the week-by-week list for a single course, I am flabbergasted. It's an astonishing amount of reading. It includes 25 books as 'general reading' and a similar number for every week. Even reading 14 hours a day, I don't think anyone could actually read all of this. There must be something I am missing.

I am happy to note that Jonathan is now on board for the hike tomorrow. I met with him this afternoon for coffee and then a walk up Mosquito Creek with their dog, Buddy. I remember that perpetually energetic black beast accompanying us on my first two trips to Hornby Island: the one where I slept in a hammock in a grove of Arbutus trees; the one where I met Kate. Jonathan has been off canoeing for the past few days and it was certainly good to spend some time with him. I learned that he just got a job at the bakery in the Whole Foods within the new addition to Park Royal. From what I've heard, they are an unusually good employer and I am glad for him.

After having a cup of tea with Jonathan and his father, I headed home and spent the evening reading - not from the intimidating reading list above, though that may have been wise. Instead, I finished most of this week's Economist and read to nearly the end of The Great Fire, which I still recommend heartily to most everyone. As I walked home, I saw Sarah Stewart outside of Starbucks, learned that today is her birthday, and invited her to my farewell party. Though I've been mildly smitten with her, to varying degrees, since high school, this will be the first time we do anything social and not related to school or her employment at Starbucks.

With five days left in Vancouver, the few hurried hours I will have on Wednesday morning not really counting, the time has come to turn to packing and other final preparation. In some sense, the hike falls into the latter category: a symbolic traverse of North Vancouver as a prelude to my dispatch. I find the flavour of my own apprehension difficult to assess. While there is definitely a manic, racing excitement that sometimes speeds my step when walking, there are elements of uncertainty - even dread - to counterpoint it. I worry about money, about the amount of reading that must be done, about the whole academic world. The last, in particular, is a concern. While I've certainly read and studied a lot, I've never really paid attention to specific authors. I know next to nothing about International Relations as an academic discipline. My exposure to IR theory is limited to the one Crawford class, which was mostly a savaging of Realism in all its forms.

While the whole scholarly approach to things is appealing to me, not least because I am reasonably good at it, I can't legitimately suppress the knowledge that much of it is a waste of time: thoughts just spun around and going nowhere. I think that Kerrie's decision to go off into the world and make a practical difference is the more courageous, the more respectable course. I applaud her for it and think anxiously of when I will pay off my massive debt to chance: to the million fortuitous accidents that put me here now with the skills, resources, and opportunities I have. In a world where there is to be any kind of fairness between people, that kind of spectacular fortune needs to be paid back to the world.

These daily entries feel solid: obligatory. Blog entries like ships-of-the-line, with cannons at the ready. In my mind, the blog is no longer a place for conspiratorial whisperings or the sharing of anything but the most blue-chip of thoughts. Such intimacy was probably never suited to the internet. Still, I can't help regretting the loss of a place where entries could be the whispered asides of an unfolding life.

Posted by Milan at 4:23 AM  

Thursday, September 15

I fought the law and... did fairly well, actually

Out for drinks with ITGToday was mostly marked with good news. The Justice of the Peace who adjudicated my Translink case gave me a very considerable reduction in my fine: from $173 to a much more manageable $15. After the very brief court appearance, I spent a few hours reading The Economist and then having sushi for lunch with my father, near his office. When I got home, I was pleased to find a letter from the domestic bursar at Wadham College informing me that I've been granted a room for next year within the main complex of the College. I will be living in the Library Court, immediately above the College library. As my mother suggested, perhaps this will save the the discomfort of lugging a bicycle across half of England.

The one piece of bad news so far today relates to the fish paper. As E.D. Brown said in an email today:
Our referee was fairly positive about your paper though he felt that it could have been more tightly focussed and had a tendency to wander off into related regions/theories. He also noted that it was based on only a handful of secondary sources. Despite these observations, we might well have accepted your paper had it not been in competition with a significant number of other papers.
Reading it, the vision of an academic life that has been coming into tighter and tighter focus over the last few months wavered a bit. I am still hopeful that some journal can be found that will be willing to publish it. I always thought it more than a bit ambitious to submit it to Marine Policy in the first place, given my position as an interested neophyte in the subject area.

Last night, Fernando and I hammered together the version of the NASCA report which has been passed on to Allen Sens. It has been duly titled: "Common Threats, Shared Responses." That's partly to highlight our determination to make constructive criticisms rather than simply anger them with out uncomfortable undergraduate convictions.

In an hour, I am to meet with ITG - partly to discuss the future of the fish paper and partly as a sendoff. I am looking forward very much to the party on Saturday evening, as well as the hike on Friday morning. Alison and Ashley are both on board for the latter, with thoughtful messages from a few others who had to decline to participate.
Having a conversation and a drink with Ian was interesting, as always. Hopefully, he and Daniel Pauly will find some journal willing to publish the fish paper - once I have appropriately modified it for them. He has, in any case, been brought into the rolls of those who have official knowledge of the blog.
Departure in seven days.

Posted by Milan at 4:41 AM  

Wednesday, September 14

Meghan Mathieson and I on campus at UBCMy court hearing with regards to the May 3rd Translink ticket has been moved forward from November 3rd to tomorrow, at my request. They won't let me dispute the allegation in writing - only ask for a reduced fine - so I will be going into the Provincial Traffic Court tomorrow morning to make my argument: namely, that my U-Pass had expired three days before and, out on a date with Meaghan Beattie and late for meeting Nick et al, that fact didn't really occur to me as we were getting on the Skytrain. Also, I will point out that I earned $8.15 an hour all summer and am taking on about $12,000 in debt next year for school.

I stopped at the courthouse on my way back from visiting Meghan Mathieson on campus. We had lunch at the Pendulum. More accurately, I did, since she is still feeling less than entirely well. Seeing her was quite pleasant; it's always enjoyable to spend an hour in lighthearted conversation with her. It's good to know that she is enjoying her new job and her new place of residence. I am glad she will be coming to my departure party in four days' time.

After walking Meghan back to work - as the research secretary at the School of Nursing - I spent a while wandering the campus. Despite three passes through the hallway of offices for political science professors, I didn't see anyone who I particularly wanted to. Outside the SUB, I did run into Katie from the NASCA trip, who I am glad to learn has read the report. We talked for a while on the grass in the middle of the Buchanon Quad before she headed off to class and I headed downtown, silently wishing the UBC campus what I presume to be a two years' farewell.

The rest of tonight is devoted to producing a copy of the report to forward to Allen Sens tomorrow. I also need to prepare the written statement that I will give to the judge in court tomorrow. As was the case when he walked across the street from his office, at very short notice, to help me rearrange my court date, my father will be advising me on my defence. It's not a lot of people who can call their attorney and have them appear at the courthouse to help them out in less than five minutes. Even fewer can pay for the services immediately afterwards by means of a slice of pizza.

Posted by Milan at 1:47 AM  

Tuesday, September 13

Silks in Vancouver
"Things, Helen, the sad silly evidence of things." He said, "We're told that possessions are ephemeral, yet my God how they outlast us - the clock on the bedside table, the cough drops, the diary with appointments for that very day." And the meaning ebbing out of them, visibly."
I spent much of today writing the executive summary for the NASCA report. It's very difficult to do specifically because I've read the thing so many times that I can barely access it as intelligible matter anymore. The temptation is to procrastinate, but I really want to jump this last hurdle and finally be done with the it. It's not that the project has been unrewarding or unimportant - merely going on for far too long. Within that context, trying to extract the gist from the broader report - in a way that's neither too discursive nor too truncated - is a less than thrilling way to spend a packet of hours.

While it is cruel to relegate a great book to the position of an item on a to-do list, it's a transformation that strips away the guilt of reading, rather than doing something else on that dire list. This afternoon, I finished part two of The Great Fire while avoiding the executive summary. The book is now at that dangerous point where you are tempted to push forward right to the end, gradually leaving behind appreciation as haste grows into the space it once occupied. That said, knowing that I should have the summary done before I head across town for dinner with Kerrie and Nolan puts a cap on my ability to act on such urges.

Tomorrow, I am to have lunch on campus with Meghan Mathieson. I'm not sure if I can even remember where last I saw her. How odd that someone can move from a position of absolute centrality in your life to one out on the poignant periphery. I suppose that will be a lesson frequently repeated during these last days in Vancouver: days which I am trying to mark with short visits, at least, to all those who I will miss terribly. The craziest thing, I think, is that when I come back, Sasha will be starting grade 12 and Mica will be going into his 4th year at UBC. Most of my friends are pretty well established, in terms of who they are as people. Spending a few years separated from them won't strip me of my ability to recognize them. Moreover, I have all manner of means of staying in touch with them, whereas my brothers and I have only ever communicated in person. I wonder what the effect of this choice will be on my future with them.

An invitation
This Friday, I am planning to do a hike from the beach at Ambleside, in West Vancouver, up Capilano Canyon to Cleveland Dam, then up the road to the Grouse Mountain parking lot, and finally up the Grouse Grind and the final stretch to the summit. All told, it should take somewhere around four hours, being fairly generous about our rate of travel. Anyone interested in coming for either part or all of the hike is most welcome to do so. In the case of abysmal weather, it will probably be postponed. I am planning to leave from the beach sometime in the late morning. I am pleased to note that Alison is planning on coming along.
Kerrie's sendoff dinner at Himalaya was quite satisfying: in the way that all-you-can-eat vegetarian curry buffets can be. After the equivalent of at least three Curry Point combos, I was very well sated. I was a bit surprised by how few of Kerrie's friends I recognized, especially considering how many of them are in the IR program. Nonetheless, conversation was interesting and fun. The great majority of those present seem to have visited Africa, Asia, or both - all areas sadly lacking from my personal repertoire of wanderings. If I am going to continue to be serious about the study of IR, I shall surely have to visit both in the coming years.

I am sure that Kerrie's year or two in Ghana will provide her with more of whatever combination of experiences and insights it is that continues to fuel her. It's always impressive to see what kind of passion that mixture can evoke, particularly when its directed to railing against stupidity or hypocrisy.

Posted by Milan at 8:22 AM  

Monday, September 12

Fernando working on the NASCA reportToday, my tenure at Staples came to an end. It's a thrilling turn of events because, with any luck, this will also be my departure from the whole world of entry level jobs. The next time when I have a space open for employment, I will have finished the first year of my degree at Oxford and (I think, I hope, I pray) will be able to get some kind of thinking job in the UK.

Immediately after work, I met with Fernando. First at Tim Horton's, then at our favourite 24 hour produce shop (on Lonsdale), and finally at my parents' kitchen table, we pushed the NASCA report forward to version 1-3 and created a new opening segment for it. Tonight and tomorrow, I will finalize the executive summary, while he will write a letter of introduction and produce a cover page. Then, we need only add some photos, tweak the formatting, combine the two sections without screwing up the separate pagination, submit the thing to Allen Sens so he can write an introductory letter, create distinct versions for print and for the web, print and post the thing, and relax. The great majority of the work - I estimate at least 100 hours of reading and writing on my part - is done.

All this was propelled forward tonight by one iced cappuccino of the size bigger than extra large and at least two litres of Earl Grey tea. The latter is strongly reminiscent of late nights in high school, when provincial exams were the most significant thing worrying me. I've only just realized how appropriate it was to spend the evening of September 11th writing a report about defence planning. I really appreciate all the hours that Fernando has put into helping me with this document - the only other member of the group who has made a large contribution to the writing or editing process.

I anticipate that Sens will take issue with sections of the report, but thankfully that can actually serve to help us. By saying: "I would never have thought this way, or said these things" he can underline the value, as least insofar as diversity of ideas goes, of having student expeditions like NASCA take place.

Tomorrow night, I am going to a restaurant on Main called Himalaya as part of Kerrie's visit to Vancouver. I forgot to mention how yesterday, while walking through Fairview on our way to the law faculty, Meaghan and I ran into Kerrie and her husband Nolan beside The Beanery. Their presence definitely also contributed to the dispelling of my sense of Fairview primarily as a menacing place where my ex-roommates might be encountered.

I've been meaning for ages to write some appreciative and insightful comments about The Great Fire and I have been writing little notes to myself in my European poet style black lined notebook, but now is not the time for such things.

PS. Anyone who can give me a correct French translation of the following will have my thanks:
The North American Security Cooperation Assessment (NASCA) 2005 Student Tour was made possible through the generous support of the Security Defence Forum Special Projects Fund of the Canadian Department of National Defence.
Apparently, a single French paragraph is enough to make the report bilingual enough to suit the government. It says something about the state of my intellectual decay that I am not confident about my own attempt to translate the above - confounded by uncertainties about the proper usage of the partitive article.

Posted by Milan at 8:09 AM  

Sunday, September 11

Meaghan Beattie and I, near FairviewToday, I passed a fine afternoon on campus with Meaghan Beattie, during which I singularly failed to repair relations between her Windows 2000 computer and the UBC wireless network, though not for lack of hours of half-determined effort. The trip to campus - first in quite a long while - included meanderings to the law school for purposes of returning borrowed materials to Ian and to Staples, for purposes of trying to get wireless networking hardware that didn't induce massive system instability. Seeing Meaghan was certainly pleasant, in the new surroundings of new abode - the most peripheral of all Fairview units. Amusingly, one of her roommates - Micheal Lions - was a classmate of Nick Sayeg's in Queensland. We can all now consider his greetings to have been passed along.

For all the drama and sadness that has sometimes pervaded my relationship with Meaghan, she is certainly a fun person with whom to spend time. Her generally upbeat character offset any worries I had about returning to Fairview: a place I now primarily associate with unwanted encounters with my thuggish former roommates and their troglodytic friends.

As if to prove that things can move backwards as well as forwards, I have work at Staples tomorrow. Being back in the mindless business of selling warranties as of 9:45am tomorrow is a less than thrilling prospect. Particularly, since I've learned how a few more of the things I've been telling customers about products are blatant lies. For instance, the contrast ratio and response time ratings on LCD monitors, are about as dodgy as page-per-minute speeds for inkjet printers. The only product I can sell with confidence is the Canon A510 camera, which I have been enjoying immensely. That despite the near-impossibility of getting sharp photos in low light without submitting your subject to the indignity of a flash.

I left too late from Meaghan's place in Fairview, hurrying to try to meet my family for dinner at the Foundation Lounge. My tardy traverse of Broadway was slowed appreciably when the 99 B-Line bus I was on hit a car that was pulling out, relieving it of the driver's side mirror. A few minutes of anxiousness and paperwork followed, before we resumed out eastward motion. In the end, dinner was had at a mediocre Greek/Italian pizza place, prior to driving over to Granville Island to see our Fringe Festival Show.

While extremely popular (I am sure more people saw this one performance of The TJ Dawe Set than saw all performances of Portia, My Love put together), the show was neither exceedingly commendable nor worthy of extensive criticism. A one-man act founded on observational humour, hyperbole, and self-deprecation, it certainly got a good response from the audience. Personally, I tend to find performances based on the awkward and somewhat uncomprehending narrator to be tiresome at times, though this was a well accomplished example of that genre.

Two days into the MSN ban, I've been doing a fairly good job of channeling the reflex that would normally have sent me online elsewhere. I think it's a good trend to perpetuate. I'd rather be an MSN Astrid, whose infrequent and brief appearances in instant messaging fora are accompanied by pleased surprise, than just another endless lurker, kept wedded to a keyboard by a constant low-level chatter.
There are now six more days before my departure party and ten more days before I actually depart. It saddens me to realize that I will probably not see Kate during that time.

Posted by Milan at 6:50 AM  

Saturday, September 10

Happy Birthday Nick Ellan

Lauren Priest with a gunToday was spent ponderously, in pursuit of refreshed memories. Camera in hand, I walked through the village and up the familiar but neglected path to my high school. Initially unwilling to go inside, I just circled it warily, walking first to the corner store that gave character to our inter-class breaks and then back up to Cleveland Dam - noting with alarm how low the water level in the reservoir is: a fact only evident by day.

Later, on the sofa in the kitchen and by window-light, I read several chapters of The Great Fire, finally passing the half-way mark. Somehow, the tone of the book has changed for me. With a stack of reclaimed books in my room, I feel a new urgency for finishing it, tinged with shame at having taken so long so far. With the book now in my mind more as a task to be accomplished and less as a thing to extract beauty and understanding from, the prose flows much more rapidly from eyes to brain.

Tonight, we are to celebrate Nick Ellan's birthday through drinks and general socializing at his parents' house. It is my hope that Sarah will come to join us. The lack of her company has been more biting than I would have expected for myself, though all such thoughts are heightened in the anticipation of my departure.
Nick's party was relatively low key, with Jonathan, Neal, Maya, Emerson, and Lauren turning up. While I shot a large number of megabytes of images, I am not in the best shape for judging which among them best captures the event. I shall therefore provide one and allow those with sturdy imaginations to extrapolate the rest.

Many congratulations to Nick for another successful orbit.
Tomorrow night, I am going for dinner with my family and to a play. Since my mother will not be in Vancouver for my Oxford pre-departure party on the 17th, we will be having a familial celebration tomorrow, albeit sans Mica. We are seeing The TJ Dawe Box Set at the Arts Club Theatre, heavily influenced by the good review it received from The Georgia Straight. Beforehand, we will be having dinner at the vegetarian Foundation Lounge at 7th and Main.

PS. Look how ancient, how medieval, Wadham College looks.

PPS. I decided, less than a week ago, to stop eating factory farmed meat. The reasons are threefold. In short, it is unsustainable as well as ethically and hygienically repulsive. The newest theory about the emergence of BSE (see Alan Colchester in The Lancet) powerfully underscores the third point.

Posted by Milan at 10:50 AM  

Friday, September 9

Only, from the long line of spray / Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land

Astrid on Cleveland DamDown the long and unlit road to Atkinson Point, along the West Vancouver shorefront, and across Capilano Dam, I walked with Frank and Astrid tonight. Initially unthemed, the night evolved into a kind of whistle-stop trip around some of the more interesting natural, but accessible, bits of North and West Vancouver.

Most poignant, definitely, was sitting on the stone shorefront south of Marine Drive in West Vancouver - across Burrand Inlet from Kitsilano. A strong wind was blowing from the Northwest, accompanied by crashing waves that sprayed us periodically with salt and moisture. Looking at the lights across the sea, as well as at the dim and indistinct figures beside me, I felt strangely whole - as though nothing in myself was lacking. It's an odd feeling to derive from shared tranquility and communal solitude, but it was definitely the over-riding emotion.

To have Astrid arrive at my doorstep with Frank in tow was less unexpected than one would suspect. Actually, the threefold dynamic of the situation seemed somehow more stable than the experience of spending time alone with Astrid has been. At the very least, I felt less compelled to comprehend and discuss the evening as it was unrolling.

A plan is now afoot to climb Grouse Mountain at some point before my departure. To me, it seems fitting to leave Vancouver behind after walking from the sea to the top of a mountain. Hopefully at least partly in the company of Astrid, this I shall do.

Posted by Milan at 8:19 AM  

Thursday, September 8

Fruit on our dining room tableI've determined that the one and only reason I get more work done at the Capilano Library than at home is the spottiness of the wireless network there. As such, I am imposing an MSN ban upon myself for the next indeterminate period. (I even removed it from the Dock in OS X.) Playing with the new digital camera is quite enough recreation for the moment and I thankfully have a clutch of blogs whose daily reading keeps me up to date on what many of you are doing.

Aside from reading, I took a walk up to the Village today largely for purposes of photographic documentation. It's remarkable how places I have been many hundreds of times, I have never bothered to commit to film. It seems appropriate now to commit them to a few bits of hard drive space before I leave for England, as a substitute for all of the albums I shall be leaving behind. I've likewise been conducting a photographic survey of my parents' house and environs.

Tonight, it seems that I shall be going out somewhere with Astrid. Having not seen her since the beginning of the summer, I have relatively little idea of what to expect.

Sunday, Fernando and I are meeting to produce the final version of the NASCA report, to be passed on to Sens so that he can write an introductory letter. I've been disappointed to receive so little input from group members regarding the contents of the draft report. While it is based on the hundred pages of so of handwritten notes I produced during the various de-briefs, I still expected there to be at least a bit of discussion about its contents. I suppose it's not unlike the group projects I've frequently directed in the past - where, as long as the work gets done, people will feel little impetus to make a contribution.

PS. Night's Sindark Nave took another big step towards total disappearance today.

PPS. Those interested in cloak and dagger stuff should take a look at this fascinating article. Link courtesy of Bruce Schneier.

Posted by Milan at 11:31 PM  

News on Multiple Fronts

Today started out as the most trying day ever at Staples. I had three blatantly rude and incredibly aggressive customers in a row. I tried to hide from them; they hounded me; they complained to managers; the managers sympathized with me. One note to those people out there who feel that shouting abuse at a minimum wage salesperson with no commission will get you faster/better service: you may want to re-examine your reasoning. Luckily, all the ugliness ended by about one. Today is the first day when many West Vancouver private schools are open, so it was a never ending parade of ties and pleated skirts this afternoon. It was a spectacle that I observed in a purely journalistic context, as your faithful blogging correspondent.

This morning, I also discovered that GMail had cruelly concealed an absolutely vital message at the bottom of a neglected 'conversation.' My increasingly desperate plea to know what kind of financial documentation Wadham College wanted was answered on Friday. Today, I duly sent them promises of C$87,600 and a healthy kidney - if required. Anyone who has spoken with me lately will know how much anxiety the outstanding issue of my application status had been causing. Not being able to compile and send the message until I got home at eight was very trying, even though I know they won't be up and reading emails over there until at least midnight tonight.

The next two pieces of excitement relate to my walk home. Firstly, I walked while speaking with Viktoria - who I've been without the conversation of for far too long. Since last we spoke, she has left her old job as a provincial bureaucrat and taken up a new one organizing conferences and things for U of T. Amusingly, Tristan will almost certainly end up going to several of the events she coordinates. Since I spoke with her last, her mother also got married - during the Labour Day weekend. While I've never actually met anyone from her family, it was good to hear her happy and excited about the whole matter.

Also during that walk, I noticed that the Capilano Road Staples had a Canon A510 going for $229, due to an old sign still being up. Hearing Tristan praise the device yesterday as the best camera he has owned (and this is a Nikon user talking, mind you) definitely sealed the deal in my mind. Since I was resigned to buying one anyway, getting one for $50 less than I expected was an obvious choice. It is equipped with a 512MB card now, and I will purchase a case for the thing when I see an appropriate one. It's nothing beside Nick Sayeg's uber-fancy new Digital Rebel, but it will allow me to photoblog from Oxford. I am planning to put up a photo or so per day for the first while I am there, to introduce whoever cares to see to the city, even as I am discovering it for myself. A very fine piece of equipment: my EOS Elan 7N will definitely also be coming along, for those film-photography type moments.

During my lunch break today, I made the move official: I shifted my subscription to The Economist to: care of Wadham College, Oxford. Sarah Pemberton tells me that such messages will find their way to a graduate student pigeon hole for me.

PS. No word in a long while for Kate or Linnea. I suppose they are very busy or sans internet right now.

Posted by Milan at 5:15 AM  

Tuesday, September 6

The kind of peak that never comes again

Items added to 'to do' list today: 18 so far
Items removed: 3 so far

That said, I have been able to set up my old computer for my mother's usage while I will be in Oxford - complete with Skype. If my mother is able to use Skype, everyone else should be able to as well. So, if you feel inclined to actually talk with me during the next two years, it's worth the free download. My username is 'sindark' of course.

As presently scheduled, I have work tomorrow, on the seventh, and on the eleventh. Other than that, Staples has not deemed me worth booking. Tomorrow, we have been told again and again, is the busiest day of the year. After that, I suppose most of us will become redundant as sales plummet and the hours in those florescent aisles become empty again. After such a stretch at eight hours or more per day, it will be a nice break, though it won't help with the task of paying for Oxford. I am looking forward very much to how the lack of work will let me see people like Kate, Meaghan, Sarah, and Sasha. It will also let me formulate my written defence to the Translink fine, sort out banking details, and pack. I am still waiting for my Oxford reading list, though it would be nice to finish The Great Fire and The Metaphysical Club before I get into it.

The NASCA report is jittering around uncomfortably on the screen in front of me: anxious to develop into a newer form but somehow lacking in the force of direction required to do so. I am hoping a massive tea infusion - since we are out of coffee - will help.

impecunious: having no money, penniless, in want of money

laconic: brief, concise, sententious, affecting a brief style of speech

Posted by Milan at 6:25 AM  

Monday, September 5

Whirling Preparations

These last few days at Staples have been by far the busiest I have ever seen there: a circumstance that made Jessica's brief visit to Vancouver all the more welcome. It's always pleasant to have the chance to show somebody the more interesting bits of an unfamiliar city - a role I am certainly hoping to play for more than a few friends at Oxford.

Speaking of Oxford, there is much about it that is causing me distress. Given the clear superiority of numbered lists as a way of conveying information, I shall convey them thusly:
  1. The accommodations manager at Wadham College cannot tell me whether I am to live in the College residence in the centre of town, as it is my strong preference to do, or in the Merifield flats about a mile out.

  2. The admissions officer at Wadham can't even confirm that I have a place in the college, because they now want proof that I can pay for both years.

  3. The admissions officer has not responded to my repeated and increasingly panicked requests to know just what kind of proof they want.

  4. Finances are looking as though they will be extremely tight, even for just the first year. This makes me want to bring as much as I can along with me, but I am restricted to the amount of physical matter I can carry. This includes a bicycle, since I will be ill-equipped to purchase even a used one there.

  5. I need to open a bank account to transfer money into to pay the first of three installments to the college and university, but cannot do so until I arrive.

  6. Nobody seems able to tell me what kind of internet access, if any, I will be able to get in whichever residence I end up in.
This general collection of nervous facts combines poorly with increasingly nerve-wracking days at Staples - with three sets of customers nipping at my heels as I try to serve the requests of a fourth. Also, with the original version of the NASCA report now distributed, all manner of people are simultaneously getting back to me with suggestions for changes, ideas for how the whole document can be reorganized, and generalized demands that I carry on working on the thing. I'd rather have a few friends over to drink scotch and watch Sin City, but such are the pressing demands of life.

Tonight, I mailed off email invitations to my departure party on September 17th. I hope I managed to send them to everyone in Vancouver who I profoundly hope will attend. Since I won't have any kind of meaningful or well-attended birthday party this year, this party will serve as a surrogate. It will also be a departure party for anyone else who is leaving soon and able to attend: as I hope will be the case for Kerrie.

Returning to the matter alluded to earlier, of Jessica's visit: it consisted of getting vegetarian Indian food at Yogi's, where we got enormously faster service than I did the last time I went there, followed by drinks at Subeez (becoming cliche for me these days, but definitely my favourite place downtown) and generalized wandering in the English Bay area. Aside from the single brief time when I met Frank, this was the only time I've met someone in person who I had only known of previously online.

This morning, I remember standing at the end of a stone breakwater at Ambleside Beach in the rain, looking out at the morning city landscape. Like looking at Kits from English Bay last night, it was a sight that filled me with preemptive nostalgia: a sense that this is a known and familiar place that it is now appropriate to leave behind. That calm certainty forms an empowering counterpoint to the specific anxieties raised by the actual mechanisms of leaving.

Anyhow, I need to go over the messages I have received about the NASCA report and determine how long, working on the nights between Staples shifts, it will take to get the urgently desired second major draft into the hands of Allen Sens. Hopefully, most of their objections will be fairly quibbling and the linguistic edit which I am very thankful to Meghan for helping to provide, will go smoothly.

PS. At work, I briefly got extremely excited about the prospect of getting a SkypeIn account. The idea behind them is that you get a phone number in an area code of your choice (for me, Vancouver) and people there can call it and be directed to your Skype account. Then, your computer rings and you answer it like a phone call. Aside from a $30 a year fee, nobody pays anything. Unfortunately, the service isn't available in Canada; apparently, that's because you cannot use it to call local 911, or so I was told today by a Vonage representative touting their equivalent service for $40 a month. Hopefully, that will change in the near future.

Posted by Milan at 5:03 AM  

In the midst of the anti-long weekend

Checking a few websites illicitly during the dinner lull of an over-full day, I noticed how shockingly pretentious the title of the last post looks. I decided, therefore, to put something above it until such a time as I can write something more modest.

Posted by Milan at 1:52 AM  

Saturday, September 3

General musings

Rather than writing all blog entries at 1:00am, hunched over the iBook keyboard, I've purchased a very European looking black writing pad to carry around. I suppose it will help me look like the stereotypical poet or a sixteen year old pseudo-goth girl, but it will beat the ever-larger collection of biodegrading scraps in my pockets. Oh, and the heartbreak when they get accidentally laundered!

Luxuriously, my 10:00pm-concluding shift was followed by a ride home from my friend and co-worker Chris. The ride also delivered me to a mercifully empty house, where I can listen to the Great Lake Swimmers, eat bread, and drink tea while allowing the brain to be mowed, to have the weeds pulled, and to have the edges repaired.

A few times here, I've made reference to my present functional conception of love. In my view, the word is hopelesly equivocated: linked to so many disparate ideas and personal expectations as to have lost any clear meaning. This framework has therefore been developed to understand and explain how it impacts my life, for purposes of better planning. Within this framework, the focus is on romantic love (of the kind experienced between people who are generally interested in some sort of sexual contact with one another). The components are threefold:
  1. One partner's assessment of the other. Now, the word 'assessment' is obviously open to broad interpretation. What makes this criteria viable is that the opinion cannot be based on any probability of future contact. It must be a determination of a person's level of appropriate respect - roughly, how good a thing it is that they are in the world. A person's values and aesthetics naturally do a lot to determine what kind of traits are respected.

    To begin with, this assessment is often badly coloured by our desires at the time. For me, women who I think might be single and interesting instantly and consistently get more attention than others. Still, from the perspective of a long-term relationship, the level of respect you have for a person is a critical part of the foundation.

  2. The second component is the sensory experience of being with the person, contemplating the person, and such. It seems to me that this is what most people are referring to when they use the term love, though this narrow focus excludes any need for commitment.

    The sensory experience of love ebbs and flows. Often, the beginning stages of a relationship are a dramatic crescendo of such thoughts: fueled by ever quicker flowing hormones and neurotransmitters. Something similar definitely happens after long seperations. When scientists with functional MRI machines find love, this will probably be most of what they are seeing.

  3. Insofar as a relationship can exist as an entity unto itself, it exists as a cluser of norms, rules, decision making procedures, and expectations - what some IR theorists call a 'regime.' These are not restricted to the people involved: if I saw a good (attached) friend having illicit relations with a stranger, it would be a matter of concern for me.

    I've often likened relationships to two islands that are initially driven together by random currents, but which are held together through an ever-more-complex system of bridges, tunnels, power lines, roads, and communication systems. Terms of trade are established and goods flow from one to the other, for mutual benefit. Another crucial part of the relationship regime is multilateral relations between partners, friends, family, and others. Having the respect of my friends is often crucial for retaining my own. Having the less noble attentions of my friends can often count as a point in your favour, both because it provides a reassuring second opinion and the promise of gains within the social structure should such a relationship be concluded.
When relationships end, it often seems to have a lot to do with an undermining of section 2 above. One thing I find interesting is how easily some people seem to be able to transfer the bulk of their section 3 connections to another person once they have found someone who is willing, for whom they have respect under section 1, and with whom they have the kind of pleasantly blinding jubilation which section 2 rests upon. The burst of heat from two inactive second sections re-activating seems as though it can often be more than enough to compensate for the cold and discomfort that creeps in as one set of section three links cracks and are sliced open, then shifted along towards the positions where they will be affixed to a new partner.

Ultimately, I am looking for someone with whom I can travel, raise children, write and edit books with, and generally enrichen life in defiance of a human psyche that I am convinced cannot generally function properly on its own. For me to set out on such a course with a person requires a pretty sturdy assessment that these three areas are well-built and not vulnerable to ordinary schocks. It's basically a necessity that there be a good collection of reasons why they should be put into an escape pod for 1% of humanity. Also essential is their ability to maintain good relations with my family. The border between my parents and I is long and undefended, crossing rocky terrain. Disasters can move across both ways, and anyone who I could be with for any length of time would need to have the skill to manage that. Of course, as I will be living in Oxford, contact with my parents will be infrequent at best. None of these criteria are things that will never change.

This rough, imperfect, and far from comprehensive framework does nothing to acknowledge the infinite complexities that make love so fascinating. For me, the question of women and how I relate to them as individuals is the most engaging and life-defining one that I can think of. The framework is just a crude tool - a couple of wobbly steps added to a ladder of understanding. For all the joy and revelations we shared, as well as for everything they helped me learn about the world and myself, I am infinitely thankful to Kate, Sarah, and Meghan. Also, for enduring hours of my hypothesizing about these and related ideas, Sarah Pemberton and Sasha Wiley have my thanks as well.
There are 15 days left until my departure party.
I fly to England in 19 days.

Posted by Milan at 7:48 AM  

Banged out while at work

After going on for a span of days and - at least once - reaching some disastrous low in awareness, all the elements of life become hazy. Walking about, avoiding obstacles with a kind of reckless difficulty, you feel that you are half-way sick: with some node of sickness deep inside you not the mush you expect, but half frozen. Memory becomes faithless as dreams become indistinct from actions.

Conversations within dreams have always been unsettling reminders of how our minds can create our friends, or at least mimic them. It's double unexected and unsettling to wake from a ten minute dream while at work, in which the other person who had been conversing has long since passed from your life.

While Mica's party did not run overlate, it caused less ruin within the house than it did between he and I. I am unwilling to abrogate the role of the enforcer of the law.

My frustrations all collapse down to an anger at impunity and those who act on its basis.

Posted by Milan at 2:51 AM  

Friday, September 2

Without authority

Mica has about 25 random friends over tonight. Also, I failed to take into account how Viktoria Prokhorova's request for me to call her between 8:00pm and 11:00pm was based on the Toronto timezone.

Suffice it to say, things are more than a bit shambolic tonight. With my mother away again, I would expect no less.

Posted by Milan at 6:37 AM