Wikipedia:Reference desk/Archives/Humanities/2007 October 15

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October 15

Global Warming/Climate Change

Are there any website that specifically gathers news about climate change/global warming? 202.168.50.40 00:33, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Yes go to www.BeatTheHeat.nrdc.org —Preceding unsigned comment added by 203.82.48.171 (talk) 12:37, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Have you looked at the links at the bottom of the Global Warming and Climate Change pages? Could you be a little more specific? Do you mean new scientific findings or events that appear to be climate-change related? DirkvdM 06:22, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

This is a question for Wikipedia:Reference desk/Science. It should really go there. Xn4 12:29, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Trying to identify a piece of music

This is a long shot, but here goes: there's a piece of classical music I often hear in cartoons, comedies, etc. as a kind of parodic expression of resolution. Typically, there's some moment of tension or emotional crisis, which is then (too) suddenly resolved to the participants' satisfaction, at which point this piece comes in. It's a kind of soaring, string-laden thing. Wish I had a soundfile or youtube link to point to, but sadly I don't. Does anyone know what the hell I'm going on about? Many thanks. --Richardrj ^{talk email} 06:17, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

This could be Samuel Barber's "Adagio for strings". --Petteroes 06:46, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Thanks, but that's not it (at least I don't think it is, judging by the sound clips of the Adagio I've listened to. It's more dramatic and, shall I say, 'vertical' than that. --Richardrj ^{talk email} 07:08, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

A long-shot answer, but it might be the "love theme" from Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet Overture-Fantasy. It's more often associated with romantic circumstances, but it seems to fit the "tension-resolution" criterion. -- JackofOz 07:25, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Jack, you're a wonder. That's the one. I downloaded it from this page and the theme I was searching for came in at 13'20". I hadn't heard it in a romantic situation before. Many thanks. --Richardrj ^{talk email} 07:59, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

You're very welcome. Strange you haven't heard it in a romantic context - it's considered one of the greatest of romantic tunes, from the pen of arguably the most romantic composer of them all. I guess it shows you just how far the commercial world has sunk in pilfering peerless music and using it for irrelevant purposes. But it's great that you know what you're listening to after all this time. Tell all your friends - Tchaikovsky forever! -- JackofOz 11:58, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The juridic problem of "The Double Murder"

First of all, english is not my first language, so just ignore my bad grammar. Here's the hypotetical juridic problem: John lives in Norway. He hates his wife Linda, who's just after his money and is having an affair with another man behind his back. He plans to kill her, and writes down his plans (something which later would be used as evidence in court). Meanwhile, Linda escapes to another country, under false name, with her lover and a good amount of John's money. Her disappearence doesn't go unnoticed, and with the investigations of John's home (and findings of the written plans of murder), John is put on trial and charged for the murder of his wife. The strictest penalty in Norway is 21 years, and this becomes John's sentence. But when John has done his time, and is finally a free man, he coincidentally meets his "murdered" wife on the street - very much alive. He gets mad with rage, and ends up killing her in front of many witnesses. Again he stands before court with the charges of killing his wife. What would happen? --Petteroes 06:42, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Double jeopardy may be relevant here. --Richardrj ^{talk email} 08:04, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The prohibition of double jeopardy doesn't apply because the charges are not the same. John has already been tried on the charge "that on or about 7 April 1986 he did willfully and unlawfully cause the death of Linda," but he has not been tried on the charge "that on 15 October 2007 he did willfully and unlawfully cause the death of Linda." —Tamfang 08:47, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

OK, strike that. --Richardrj ^{talk email} 11:54, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Only someone who knows Norwegian law could answer your question, but John's case clearly supports the general principle that a conviction for murder is likely to be unsafe without a dead body. If the original trial had been heard in the UK, the circumstances seem to me to show enough reasonable doubt that Linda is dead that John should have been acquitted. Xn4 12:12, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

• It's kind of an interesting problem in that prisoners who later prove their innocence are often compensated with money to make up for their lost time. If John's compensation and new murder trials came up at the same time, the most logical compensation for his wrongly-taken *previous* 21 years would be to give him his *future* 21 years back. --Sean 15:07, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

For the first conviction to matter (much, see later) there would have to be a special law written that correlates the two (and there's no good reason any politican would propose or back such a law). So (assuming Tamfang is correct, that Norwegian law does indeed consider the two crimes to be entirely distinct, which is very likely) then they'll be treated entirely seperately - he's convicted then freed then compensated in the first matter, and then convicted on the second matter. So (in abstract) the second sentence is unrelated to the disposition of the first matter. In practice the first conviction and sentence, even quashed and compensated, would in this case surely be mitigatory for the second matter, so he'd get very much less than the 21 year maximum (and if his lawyer is any good, they can make a good case for his being temporarily insane, bumping the whole thing down to a lesser unlawful-killing conviction (whatever the Norwegian equivalent of manslaughter is). -- PrettyDirtyThing 16:17, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Um, I disclaim any specific knowledge of Norwegian law. —Tamfang 23:15, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

No idea I'm afraid, but it would be deliciously ironic if he was punished more severely because of recidivism. Random Nonsense 10:03, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

See also this related article. --Anon, 01:36 UTC, October 19, 2007.

The "i" in iPod and iTunes

What does it stand for? --Petteroes 06:50, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Nothing specific, but it presumably refers to the internet in a glancing way. --Richardrj ^{talk email} 07:01, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Yep: Apple's tradition calling things "iWhatever" began with the iMac, because the iMac was much easier to connect to the Internet than other computers of the time. This was than extrapolated to the iBook, a laptop version of the iMac, and from there to the iPod. Given that the name iPod was so distinctive, it made sense for the counterpart program to have a similar name, so that became iTunes (and it makes for a download system to be called "Internet Tunes"). This was then expanded across Apple's entire suite in a fairly nonsensical way - iPhoto and iDVD have almost no internet connectivity, and the name iWeb is something of a tautology (you can't have the World Wide Web without the Internet, plus it sounds awfully close to "interweb"). See also internet-related prefixes. Laïka 10:50, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

I also think it is not a coincidence that "i" here can stand in for the personal pronoun. "I web, I pod, I movie" etc. I think the personal affirmation aspect of it is probably meant to make it sound "easier" as well ("I can do it"). --24.147.86.187 20:18, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

In this sense it can be related to the trend of prefixing things with "my" to create a friendly and non-technical terminology,. Eg. "My Computer" instead of "filesystem root directory", and "My <companyname>" for a web-based application where users can log in and handle personal details and such.risk 16:26, 21 October 2007 (UTC)

• Incidentally, Apple will never come out with the iRobot -- that name is taken by the Roomba people. --M@rēino 22:03, 17 October 2007 (UTC)

Saint Isidore of Seville

Does anyone know what miracles he performed in order to be sainted? Thanks a lot. --Pyreforge 10:39, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Our article Isidore of Seville doesn't help you, except that it tells us Isidore wasn't canonized until nearly a thousand years after his death. That may be a record. Xn4 12:19, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Do you have to perform miracles? He is a Doctor of the Church because of his writings, his contributions to liturgies and monastic/Church regulations, etc. Wareh 12:56, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Yes, our saint article indicates you must do at least 3 miracles to be canonised. --Sean 15:02, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Ok, here are some miracles: "St. Isidore appeared to him one night in a vision, and ordered him to eat a book", "Isidore of Seville appeared to them in a vision..." (re the removal of his relics from Muslim territory). But given how widespread his acclaim as a Doctor of the Church for his learning alone in the 7th century, I'm still left wondering how consistent this requirement has been (it's a firm requirement now; but Canonization#Historical development of the process leaves things vaguer). Wareh 16:26, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Many local saints were being venerated before official canonization procedures were formally established: de facto saints, if you will, rather than de jure. --Wetman 19:42, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Billeting Affair?

After the Restoration of the Monarchy in 1660 Scottish politics was dominated for a time by the Billeting Affair, when the earl of Middleton tried to bring down his rival the earl of Lauderdale. What was this exactly? Donald Paterson 12:14, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Google is your friend: see here:

In September 1662, parliament passed an Act of Indemnity which enabled Charles opponents to purge their contempt for a price (the proceeds of which would go to Middleton and his cronies). Some especially obnoxious covenanters were exempted from the act and declared unfit to hold any public office...

Middleton now planned the selection of the exempted, by a ballot or billet in the parliament. Members would each nominate twelve people for exemption and those with most votes against would be exempted from the Act of Indemnity... Lauderdale duly headed the list followed by his associates...

When Middleton’s envoys reached London with the Act, they were first summoned by Clarendon who asked if they were mad. The King met them with a resounding rebuke, the Act was not even opened, and the envoys sent packing back to Scotland... [Middleton] was finally dismissed in May 1663.

This seems to be a Scottish version of the English Indemnity and Oblivion Act of 1660. See also John Middleton, 1st Earl of Middleton and John Maitland, 1st Duke of Lauderdale. -- !! ?? 16:58, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The whole affair, Donald, was a calculated act on the part of Middleton to rid himself of the one man he conceived to be the chief obstacle of his ambition. In his capacity as Secretary of State for Scotland Lauderdale had to be close to the king in London, which meant that Middleton, the High Commissioner to the Scottish Parliament, had a free hand in the north. It was on his initiative, and his initiative alone, that Parliament was persuaded to exempt twelve as yet unnamed individuals from the Act of Indemnity when the measure was first debated, persuading the assembly that this was the 'will of the king.' Charles was subsequently persuaded that it was the 'will of Parliament. Middleton and his closest political associates, who included, most notably, Sir George Mackenzie of Tarbet, made sure that Parliament in the final vote on the matter produced the 'right kind' of list, headed by Lauderdale. Middleton was now so confident of his success that he planned to nominate Tarbet for the position of Scottish Secretary, which provides some measure of both his conceit and his presumption.

Lauderdale had been well aware that some move was being made against him, and he made sure that he had reliable agents to keep him alert to the actions of his political enemies. Now aware that the Billeting Act, in the keeping of Tarbet, was in its way to London for royal approval, he approached Charles and asked him in a casual fashion what if he himself had been 'billeted.' Charles replied that no one would dare attack one of his servants in such a fashion. Lauderdale thereupon not only told the King that he had in fact been 'ostracised' but that Middleton had gone on to touch the Act with the sceptre, implying that it already had royal consent. The reports we have probably underestimate the full degree of the royal anger; for Charles had been duped. Even Clarendon, another of Lauderdale's enemies, recognised how inept Middleton and his associates had been. A process now began that led to the fall of the Middleton faction and the further ascent of Lauderdale, who by the late 1660s had emerged as the virtual dictator of Scotland, a success he owed in part to 'St. Billeting's Day', as he ever afterwards referred to Middleton's attempted political coup. The whole intrigue is neatly summarised in King Lauderdale: the Corruption of Power by R. C. Paterson. Clio the Muse 23:57, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

2007 Australian federal election

If Labour wins on November 24, do they take control immediately, i.e. Kevin Rudd becomes Prime Minister as soon as the results are clear? Or do we have a window period similar to the Americans Nov-Jan thing? I've just realised that although I really SHOULD know this, I was eight years old when we last had a federal party switch. 220.235.129.132 13:54, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The Prime Minister is appointed by the Governor-General who can, strictly speaking, appoint just about anyone whenever he feels like it. In practice the GG's appointment of the PM is much like it is in the UK - once the dust of the election has cleared (once it's obvious who has won and who hasn't) the leader of the winning party (or coalition) goes to see the GG and the GG offers him the job of PM. As to the timing - Australian federal election, 1996 says the election was on March 2nd, but Prime Minister of Australia shows Howard becoming PM only on March 11th. I guess (but it would be nice if some article somewhere, say Australian electoral system, actually said for sure) that the delay is due to slow returns from outback votes, where there's a big delay getting votes from the polling place to the counting place. -- PrettyDirtyThing 15:50, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

As I undertand it, the official 'becoming of a PM' in Australia is when s/he is sworn in at the first session of parliament after the election. Before that, however, s/he has a de facto power as PM.Steewi 03:14, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

That last sentence entire post is certainly not true. Once the election result is without doubt, the Governor-General swears in the new PM and the new Ministers at Government House. The actual date can vary depending on various factors, and is a matter of agreement and negotiation between the PM who's just lost and the one who's just been elected, but the new one can certainly pull rank. When the Gough Whitlam government was elected on Saturday 2 December 1972, the results in some of the electorates where his would-be ministers and other Labor candidates were standing were unclear, but the overall result was without doubt. Whitlam wanted to waste no time in getting on with implementing his mandate, so he had William McMahon booted out of his offices, and had the G-G swear him and his deputy Lance Barnard in as a two-man ministry on Tuesday 5th December - see First Whitlam Ministry. Once all the votes had been finalised, the full ministry was sworn in on 19 December - see Second Whitlam Ministry. In most other cases, there's a longer gap between the election and the swearing-in. In 1983, when Bob Hawke defeated Malcolm Fraser, the election was on 5 March and the swearing-in took place 6 days later, 11 March. In 1996, when John Howard defeated Paul Keating, the election was on 2 March, and the swearing-in took place 9 days later, 11 March. (Most people don't realise that the Hawke-Keating period lasted exactly 13 years, to the day, 11 March 1983 - 11 March 1996).

As for Parliament, the only swearing-in that takes place there is the swearing-in of newly elected Members of the House of Representatives (and, when their time comes - which is usually the following 1 July, but immediately in the case of ACT and NT Senators - Senators). The government must comprise members of the parliament, and it is accountable to the parliament, but it is not a creature of the parliament but of the crown (represented by the Governor-General; which is why the G-G can sack a government, eg. Sir John Kerr, but the Parliament cannot. The most a parliament can do is to express a lack of confidence in the government on the floor of the House of Reps, and the PM is then duty bound to offer his resignation to the G-G. There is no precedent that I know of where there's been an expressed lack of confidence but the PM didn't resign - there would be a real constitutional crisis if this ever happened).

There is a maximum period allowed between the election date and the convening of the new parliament. Section 5 of the Constition says it's 30 days after the day appointed for the return of the writs. (In 2004, the election was on 9 October and the parliament met for the first time on 16 November.) In the meantime, the government, once sworn in, gets on with the business of governing. Prior to the swearing-in, they aren't a government, and all they can do is announce what they intend to do once they are sworn in, but they have no power to implement these promises until they are sworn in, because the previous government, despite being beaten at the polls, is still the government, and the Public Service, which actually gets things done, takes their marching orders from the government of the day without regard to political allegiances. To counterbalance the possibility of a government that's been defeated at the polls making major policy decisions prior to the new government being sworn in, they're bound by the caretaker provisions, which operate from the announcement of the election until the new government is sworn in. -- JackofOz 04:39, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

If the procedure is much the same as in the UK, then there's another slight wrinkle, which is that a prime minister who loses an election doesn't automatically lose his or her position. The office is held from the crown, and before a new PM can be appointed (here, by the Queen), the old one needs to resign. As an example, the Conservatives lost the British general election of 28 February 1974, with the Labour Party winning more seats than the Conservatives, but Edward Heath delayed his resignation until 4 March, hoping to form a coalition with the Liberals. He didn't resign until he found that wasn't possible. The Queen then sent for the leader of the Labour Party. Xn4 12:13, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Legal principle

Is there a formal legal principle that describes a defense of "the law was too complex, or too ambiguous, for a reasonable person to be able to follow it" (no, I'm not involved in legal action, so I'm certainly not looking for legal advice). One can imagine this might be claimed for a particularly complex piece of tax code (it's not unknown for different parts of a tax authority to make contradictory rulings as to the interpretation of a section of the code) or one that relies on subjective judgements rather than prescriptive tests (reading this Slate article got me thinking about how the publisher of saucy material can really know in advance whether his intended publication will be lawful). It would seem to be natural justice that someone should be able to know (with due application of dilligence and engagement of appropriate legal/professional advice if necessary) whether an action they propose to take will or won't be lawful. This isn't a million miles from the principle of laches, another legal principle wherein "I tried my hardest to obey the law, M'lud" is a reasonable defense. Is there such a principle (and what is its name) or is this merely used at best as an ad-hoc, last-ditch defense? -- PrettyDirtyThing 15:15, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

A similar case comes to mind - a few years ago someone (I really can't remember who) found a bug in some important piece of software. He proposed to sell this information to the software's owner, and consulted a lawyer who confirmed this was legal. But the software vendor complained to the authorities that his proposal was a veiled extortion attempt, and I believe the guy did some jailtime. This doesn't seem just to me, as I can't figure out how the guy was supposed to know his actions were going to be later judged to be illegal (there was no obvious direct precedent, he went to a lawyer, did nothing underhand or dishonest, and courts won't give you a declaratory ruling before you act). -- PrettyDirtyThing 15:23, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Au contraire: ignorantia juris (or legis)non excusat. -- !! ?? 16:48, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The principle of ignorantia juris non excusat is by no means absolute. It is not at all unheard of for a person to cite the vagueness of a law or other provision in their defence ("vagueness" is a term used in such cases). For this to work, they would also have to demonstrate that they had not received fair warning that their conduct was in violation of the law - if they knew how the law was meant to be interpreted, then this defence fails. Also, if a person has sought legal advice from a lawyer or public official and then acted on that advice, this could be an exculpation if it turns out the advice was wrong. But I don't know that there is a legal principle that would cover all cases of this kind.--Rallette 10:22, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

• Laches doesn't seem particularly relevant - there it is the plaintiff's delay that excuses the defendant, not the defendant's attempt to obey the law. Lisiate 03:35, 17 October 2007 (UTC)

religion/King James Bible

In the book of Genesis where does it show:

1. lust of the Eyes —Preceding unsigned comment added by 24.190.184.41 (talk) 15:21, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

I can't find it in Genesis, but it is in 1 John 2:16. DuncanHill 15:55, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

It is implied in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 4-6), where Jesus says that looking lustfully at a married woman is adulterous. Steewi 03:16, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Manditory fine arts training for anybody interested professional degree (law, medicine...) - Where, when and how many years.

I once remember hearing in a lecture-recital that at some point in history (19 century?) in some place (germany?) it was a requirement for anybody interested in doing a professional degree (law, medicine...) to have some defined fine arts training (2 years?) in order to apply. Does anybody know how to confirm the details of where, when and how many years? Where it was taking place - country/city/university. When it was occurring - years specifically or approximately. How many years of fine arts training? Other interesting facts greatly appreciated! —Preceding unsigned comment added by 67.71.63.176 (talk) 15:22, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The curriculum of most (all) medieval universities in Europe entailed a mostly fixed programme that included much of what might now be called the liberal arts (with something of maths and science to boot) - see Medieval university#Characteristics. After that one could take a professional qualification. But I don't think any would have fine art on the curriculum, that being "beneath" the lofty academic rubric - even luminaries like Michelangelo were in essence jumped-up tradesmen. -- PrettyDirtyThing 15:31, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The medieval trivium (grammar, logic, and rhetoric) was followed by the quadrivium (arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy); after which you might study philosophy and theology. -- !! ?? 16:46, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

James I and England

Why was James I such a disappointing king? —Preceding unsigned comment added by 217.42.103.200 (talk) 15:26, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Disappointing to whom? Jane Austen describes his reign as follows:

James the 1st

Though this King had some faults, among which & as the most principal, was his allowing his Mother's death, yet considered on the whole I cannot help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had several Children; fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died before his Father or he might have experienced the evils which befell his unfortunate Brother.

As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member of it; yet Truth being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am necessitated to say that in this reign the roman Catholics of England did not behave like Gentlemen to the protestants. Their Behaviour indeed to the Royal Family & both Houses of Parliament might justly be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho' certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of that general politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions were entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle.

Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this & the preceding reign, & is by many people held in great veneration & respect — But as he was an enemy of the noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, & must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars of his Life, to Mr Sheridan's play of the Critic, where they will find many interesting Anecdotes as well of him as of his freind Sir Christopher Hatton. — His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which inclines to Freindship, & in such points was possessed of a keener penetration in Discovering Merit than many other people. I once heard an excellent sharade on a Carpet, of which the subject I am now reminds me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some amusement to find it out, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it to them.

Sharade

My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you tread on my whole.

The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in the above-mentioned Sharade, & George Villiers afterwards Duke of Buckingham. On his Majesty's death he was succeeded by his son Charles.

from: The History of England from the reign of Henry the 4th to the death of Charles the 1st. By a partial, prejudiced, & ignorant Historian. —Preceding unsigned comment added by SaundersW (talk • contribs) 15:59, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

I'd like to see Clio's thoughts on this, but in the mean time I should say very nearly all English kings have been disappointing. Hasn't it been downhill all the way since Alfred the Great? In the words of Wilde, "Most men and women are forced to play parts for which they have no qualifications. Our Guildensterns play Hamlet for us, and our Hamlets have to jest like Prince Hal. The world is a stage, but the play is poorly cast." Xn4 21:56, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Yes, you are right, Xn4, and that the glory of noon is always, or almost always, followed by by the disappointment of midnight; but with James it had been all midnight and all disappointment! I'm exaggerating, of course, though not much. I really do hate to take issue with my beloved Jane, but I find it difficult to determine why exactly she likes James, beyond the fact that he married and had children! Besides, those events fell into the Scottish part of his reign, which, on the whole, was quite successful. But it remains true that a successful Scottish king was to be a disappointing English one.

Perhaps there was a certain inevitability to this: for he had to follow one of the greatest monarchs in all of English history. Even so, Elizabeth's final decade had been anti-climatic, and the English received their new king with considerable expectations. But James did little to endear himself with the public, having few skills in self-presentation. He endured occasions, like the coronation, rather than celebrating them. He had too many Scottish companions and spent too much time hunting, neglecting state business in the process. Scottish favourites went, and English favourites came, with no better result. Most important of all, he had a poor understanding of the workings of English government. The absurd and dangerous notion of the Divine Right of Kings-which he bequethed to his son-put him at variance with the chief trends of English Common Law and constitutional history. The problem was that his Scottish experience of government was incapable of translation into an English context. His northern parliament was really no more than a grand feudal council, and this is how he attempted to treat its more politically mature English counterpart. The practice in Scotland had been to present proposals for laws to the king first so he could select those he approved of, which were then simply voted through. No English parliament was ever going to tolerate being treated in this arrogant fashion. James waged war with parliament; James lost.

But perhaps the most important reason behind James' failure to impress the English lies somewhere else altogether. You see, when he came to England it had been over fifty years since a male in full vigour of life had occupied the throne. Henry VIII, for good or bad, cast a shadow of heroic proportions across English history. But James was not only physically unimpressive he was also personally timid. John Oglander, who saw him at close hand, was later to write in his memoirs that "King James I of England was the most cowardly man that I ever knew." Now, who would have said that of Henry VIII?! Clio the Muse 00:46, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

It's all right, Clio, the shade of the great Jane shouldn't feel too slighted. She finished her History on Saturday, 26 November, 1791, when she was fifteen, and instead of putting her name on it wrote "by a partial, prejudiced, & ignorant Historian". And there was also the tongue in the cheek. Of Charles I she wrote - "I am obliged in spite of my attachment to the Scotch, to consider them as equally guilty with the generality of the English, since they dared to think differently from their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as Stuarts it was their Duty to pay... The Events of this Monarch's reign are too numerous for my pen, and inded the recital of any Events (except what I make myself) is uninteresting to me... As therefore it is not my intention to give any particular account of the distresses into which this King was involved through the misconduct & Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall satisfy myself with vindicating him from the Reproach of arbitrary & tyrannical Government with which he has often been charged. This, I feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am certain of satisfying every sensible & well disposed person whose opinions have been properly guided by a good Education — & this argument is that he was a STUART." Xn4 08:45, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

That is simply superb, quite superb! Thank you, dearest Mr. Darcy, for achieving what I would not have believed possible: deepening still further my love of Jane Austen. So says yet another partial, prejudiced and ignorant Historian, also known as Clio the Muse 23:11, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

"On", a novel

I'm trying to find somewhere to buy this certain novel online, however, it's proving quite difficult. The novel is, (I'm almost certain of this), called "On", (and you can imagine the difficulty that creates when trying to search for it online), and it set in the far-off future where some accident has rotated the earth's gravitational pull by ninty degrees, so that instead of everything being pulled down, it gets pulled east, and during the course of a few seconds, nearly all of human civilisation is destroyed. The novel then follows the hero, some years later, after he falls off the top of a hill, drops several miles down before landing in a strange new part of the great cliff-face of the world.

I remember flicking through it in a book shop once or twice, but the internet claims it doesn't exist. If anyone here has heard of this novel, and can tell me the name of its author, and where I can get a hold of it, I would be most appreciateive. Thanks, Ninebucks 17:10, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

You could try asking on Usenet's rec.arts.sf.written (try including "YASID" in subject line)... AnonMoos 18:20, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Adam Roberts wrote a novel titled On in 2001. I found it with the help of this search engine. And there's google book search's result. ---Sluzzelin talk 19:20, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Gnostic Gospels

What do the Gnostic Gospels say about the Resurrection? MindyE 17:20, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Gnosticism was far from being a coherent unified belief system -- it occurred in numerous proliferating versions, some of which were non-Christian, or only very nominally Christian. However, some versions of Gnosticism were Docetic... AnonMoos 18:13, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The Gnostic Gospels, the texts themselves, say practically nothing about the resurrection as far as I can recollect. They are mostly lists of sayings and teachings attributed to Jesus, but contain very little of a "history" of His actions, including the crucifixion and the days following. Those rare ones that do make references to it, such as the Gospel of Judas are, as AnonMoos suggests, influenced by a Docetic viewpoint. Christ says in this latter one, for example, "you will sacrifice the man that clothes me," indicating that "the man," or the physical being, was but a shell for the true person beneath or within. ◄Zahakiel► 20:08, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Hmm...I will have to double-check, but I thought the Gnostics had quite a lot to say about the Resurrection, both as a literal and a symbolic act. Some called the literal view the 'faith of fools'. It was, so they insisted, a spiritual vision rather than a literal seeing. Does the author of the Gospel of Mary, for instance, not view the Resurrection as visions received in dreams? In the Apocalypse of Peter the Apostle sees Christ while in deep trance, who explains that "I am the intellectual spirit, filled with radiant light." The Gospel of Philip also seems to ridicule those who take the Resurrection literally-"Those who say they will die first and then rise are in error." Clio the Muse 01:15, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

The Gnostics, yes; the Gnostic Gospels, no. The Gnostics had a number of writings of various qualities in terms of the influence they had on the movement and the adherents. I'm taking the question just as it's worded because to ask what the Gnostics thought of the resurrection is, as you've pointed out, a big topic about which they had "quite a lot to say." The Gospel of Mary has Mary recounting the the grieving discpiles information she received in a vision, yes; but as far as I remember it does not address whether or not the resurrection actually happened.

The gospels are all notabily silent on the event itself. It's the same with Peter and Philip's attributed work... the Docetic content may be implied from the texts, and the significance is undoubtedly seen as symbolic; but the actuality of it (in addition to the spiritual meaning) is rarely, if ever, explicitly addressed. A relevant quote (similar to the one you mention, but about Christ) from the Gospel of Philip reads, "Those who say that the Lord died first and [then] rose up are in error, for he rose up first and [then] died. If one does not first attain the resurrection, he will not die." The question is more about the order of events (spiritual or literal) than their historicity; without getting too much into the doctrinal position, what is being demonsrated here is the detachment between body and spirit. Once the spirit has served its purpose, what happens to the body is of lesser consequence. The exact passage you quote is dealing with the importance of Baptism. It is necessary to "die" and be "reborn," (i.e., resurrected) before physical death. The passage is: "Those [...] go down into the water. [...] out (of the water), will consecrate it, [...] they who have [...] in his name. For he said, "Thus we should fulfill all righteousness." (Mt 3:15) Those who say they will die first and then rise are in error. If they do not first receive the resurrection while they live, when they die they will receive nothing." ◄Zahakiel► 03:26, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Thanks, Zahakiel. I shall have to refresh my memory of the Gnostic texts! Clio the Muse 23:00, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Gorky and Lenin

I've just read your page on the Russian writer Maxim Gorky which touches on his relationship with Lenin and his attitude towards the Bolshevik Revolution. Does anyone (Clio?) know any more about this? Fred said right 18:16, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

It's discussed in Orlando Figes' excellent book A People's Tragedy. Gorky was well-known and respected as a revolutionary but was appalled at the excesses of the Bolsheviks. He had known Lenin since 1902 and raised money for the predecessors of the Bolsheviks. After the revolution, Gorky served as an intermediary to top Bolsheviks for intellectuals and others unjustly imprisoned and helped find jobs for writers and artists in the new Russia. He was fiercely critical of the Red Terror. Because of his reputation, the Bolsheviks could not deal with him as they had with their lesser-known critics. But in 1919, Lenin sent a threatening letter to Gorky and shortly thereafter, his newspaper was shut down. Gorky left Russia in 1921 but found himself a pariah among the largely White (anti-Communist) exiles of Western Europe. He returned to Russia in 1932 and was welcomed back as a Soviet hero. He died in 1936, perhaps murdered by Stalin to prevent him from exposing the show trial of Grigory Zinoviev and Lev Kamenev. -- Mwalcoff 02:32, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Hi, Fred. For one thing, while Lenin and Gorky, had a long acquaintance, and shared some general ides, their individual visions were quite different. Gorky's idea of revolution was much more bound up in notions of brotherhood and freedom, which had very little in common with Lenin's political dialectics, or with his notions of party discipline. Gorky admired Lenin's intellect but hated the way in which he constrained the complexity of life into a narrow set of abstract theories. The two men first clashed over politics, and the future course of the revolution, in 1909 and 1910, specifically on the question of workers' education. For Lenin the workers had no value as an independent cultural force, but only as disciplined cadres of the party. But Gorky, along with Alexander Bogdanov and Anatoliy Lunacharskiy, saw Marxism as a form of religion, to be expressed in new forms of comradeship and union, a theme he takes up in Confession, his novel of 1908. It's hardly any great surprise, then, that Gorky did not settle down comfortably with the form the Revolution took in Russia after November 1917.

In Novaya Zhizn-New Life-, the independent socialist newspaper he published in Petrograd in 1917 and 1918, Gorky time and again challenged the brutishness he saw around him in his Untimely Thoughts column, describing it as an outburst of 'zoological instincts', of ancient hatreds given life by the brutality of the war and the rhetoric of the Bolsheviks. The crushing of the Kronstadt Rebellion and the Red Terror further uderlined that the Bolsheviks would not be diverted from the most oppressive forms of dictatorship. But what he found most intolerable was the government's indifference to the famine brought on by the forced grain requsitions of War Communism. He finally decided to go into exile, an action that Lenin had been urging upon him for some time.

The ambivalent relationship he had with Lenin-one of love and one of hate-was fully evident after the latter's death in 1924. It left Gorky with feelings of guilt and regret; with a painful sense that there were issues between the two which could now never be resolved. Soon after he wrote to Romain Rolland, saying "Lenin's death has been a very heavy blow for me. I loved him. I loved him with wrath." It was to cause him to reassess his whole attitude towards the Bolshevik Revolution and all that followed; that Lenin had been right and he had been wrong. It was the beginning of a new path of self-deception. Clio the Muse 02:06, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Musical Instruments Invented by Americans

So, I got into an argument with a music major the other day over how many musical instruments have been invented by Americans. I've got Kazoo, Sousaphone,Electric guitar, Melodeon (organ), lap guitar, dobro, Drum Set, ukulele, Chapman stick and Ben Franklin's Glass harmonica. I know there is a keyboard instrument of some type that had a very prodigious sound (it could be heard up to 3 miles away?!) that was American. There is also the Banjo, but its African in origin and not American per se.... And that is to say nothing about Native American instruments. Do you guys know any more? Thanks as all ways. Zidel333 19:50, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The Appalachian dulcimer is generally held to be of American origin. — Lomn 20:08, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Not sure if this counts, but Roger Powell "created the Powell Probe; the first remote, hand-held polyphonic synthesizer controller..." --LarryMac | Talk 20:15, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

The Moog synthesizer and Electro-Theremin were both invented by Americans, the Diddley bow is an American instrument of African origin. Rockpocket 21:04, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

• How about the phonograph as an instrument for creating music? --Sean 02:13, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Your loud keyboard instrument is a Calliope. I think the moog os also american. -Arch dude 03:43, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Some more here. They're not named, though. DirkvdM 07:27, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Note that while Edison was the first to build a phonograph it was invented by a Frenchman, and that's what the question was about. DirkvdM 07:27, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

• Well, neither of them invented using it to create music, which is why I linked to the definitively American invention of scratching. --Sean 13:26, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Also note that the ukelele was developed in Hawaii before it became part of the US. DirkvdM 07:37, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

The drum kit is an interesting case - basically, it's just a collection of separate instruments. Of course there have been ensembles of percussion instruments all over the world for a very long time, but several played by one person is another thing. A xylophone is percussive, but not the same thing, really - it has notes. I'd be surprised if no Africans ever came up with this idea. Or what about the Japanese? DirkvdM 07:37, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

The Hammond organ is definitely an American invention GaryReggae 18:37, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

• The US-based Moog company also invented the Keytar. --M@rēino 22:07, 17 October 2007 (UTC)

Three more: the Pedal steel guitar (if Hawaii counts as "America"), the wonderful Vibraphone, and the Telharmonium monster. Pfly 23:18, 17 October 2007 (UTC)

Let's not forget that the Electric Bass was invented by Leo Fender in sunny California. Incidentally, well into the 1970's it was referred to as a "Fender Bass" on many records. —Preceding unsigned comment added by 68.227.227.118 (talk) 14:47, 18 October 2007 (UTC)

Modern Dance Picture

Hey! I'm trying to find a copy of this picture I've heard about; it's a photo of a modern dancer, maybe Martha Graham or Isabella Duncan, pulling off a move upside down so that her skirt is flared and the tip of her foot is stuck out so that she looks like a calla lilly. Could someone help me find the picture online? —Preceding unsigned comment added by 208.76.138.251 (talk) 21:06, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

You're probably thinking of Isadora Duncan rather than Isabella Duncan. I can't begin to answer your question, but if you go to Google images and search all the names which seem at all possible, you may be able to find it. Xn4 09:48, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Yes, I meant Isadora Duncan...I've googled both Duncan and Graham but haven't found the picture...I can't think of who else I could google. Any suggestions? —Preceding unsigned comment added by 208.76.138.251 (talk) 18:18, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

I'm out of my depth here, but a lot more possible names are suggested in Modern dancers. Xn4 23:23, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

You may be looking for a photograph of Loie Fuller. She danced in the early 1900s and was known for the great swirling images she created using yards and yards of cloth in her costume. Google "Loie Fuller", and then press "Images". She does have a dance called, variously, "Lily en Fire", "Dance of the Lily" and "Lily Dance", though I could not find photographs specifically of it. Bielle 15:39, 17 October 2007 (UTC)

"Hello"

How would you write the music notation for Inside Out by Phil Collins? It starts with him hitting on toms and then to the bass drum and then clashing the cymbals. He then starts knocking on the hi-hat, beating two notes on the kick bass drum, and popping the snare.

How would you write that in actual music notation? —Preceding unsigned comment added by 75.44.152.111 (talk) 23:07, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Maybe someone more musically inclined than I can answer your question, but in the meantime you might glean some info from Percussion_notation. -- Diletante 23:12, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

Hi

Anyone know any website where you can actually drum notation from different arists are availible? —Preceding unsigned comment added by 75.44.152.111 (talk) 00:53, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

These are the top 100 from 911 tabs. REmember Google is your friend :) schyler 00:56, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Glass Harmonica tune - Phantom/Haunted Fairground?

I'd ask this on the Entertainment desk, but I suspect that the people on the humanities desk are more likely to know. About 7 or 8 years ago, I was surfing through radio stations in London on a school trip. I happened across an eerie piece on glass harmonica (I'm pretty sure about that bit) called something like 'The Haunted Fairground' or 'The Phantom Fairground'. Since this was the first piece I'd ever heard on glass harmonica, I now find myself wondering if the piece was any good, or if it was just the shock of hearing a different sound (and being young); I'd like to hear it again. However, Google only turns up 'Phantom Fairground' which seems to be a recently written piece specially composed for some person, and unlikely to have been on the radio there and then (although I could be wrong). 'Haunted Fairground' doesn't seem to exist. Has anyone encountered such a piece? Skittle 23:10, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

I love the glass harmonica but I'd never heard of this piece. It seems to be by one Ian Hughes - see here. It's called "Phantom Fairground". He’s written some film music – [1], [2]. -- JackofOz 04:07, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Hmm, that's the one I turned up too, but I couldn't find enough detail to work out if it was the one I remember. I got the impression it was quite a recent piece being mentioned in that article, but rereading I think I'm wrong. If I could only hear it, I think I'd know whether it was or not! Thanks for the effort. Skittle 15:31, 17 October 2007 (UTC)

Pity. The only other piece of music I can think of that has "haunted" in the title is Geoffrey Toye's ballet The Haunted Ballroom. The Waltz from the ballet is probably this now little-known composer's best-known work. I no longer have a recording of it, so I can't check, but I don't remember ever hearing a glass harmonica in the orchestration, and I've never read any reference to it if he did - but it's possible. (This is also my cue to mention William Bolcom's Three Ghost Rags for piano, in particular the first one, Graceful Ghost, which is great fun for pianist and audience alike). -- JackofOz 01:29, 18 October 2007 (UTC)

This doesn't answer Skittle's question at all, but Halloween approaching, and given the spooky question on ghosts somewhere below ... for "haunted" works, there are also the operas The Haunted Manor (Straszny Dwór) by Stanisław Moniuszko and The Haunted Tower by Stephen Storace, as well as Study for ‘The Haunted Palace’ after Edgar Allan Poe" (Étude pour 'Le palais hanté’ d'après Edgar Allan Poe) by Florent Schmitt. Glass harmonica sounds like a good choice for orchestrating a haunted fairground, and I now wonder what Ligeti's Lux Aeterna would sound like, if performed on 16 microtuned glass harmonicas. Probably still not as eerie as the real deal. ---Sluzzelin talk 02:16, 18 October 2007 (UTC)

If I recall correctly, Mozart wrote some tunes for the Glass Armonica Edison 05:04, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

He did indeed, but none of them was called "Phantom Fairground". -- JackofOz 05:09, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Chortle. Oh, that's so dry. Xn4 23:19, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Something, something else and another thing, Oh My!

One of the more awkward things about consuming media from a culture you didn't grow up in is that you don't always get the references people make. I'm fairly good at them by now, but there is one that always annoys me because I kinda recognize it but can't place it. As the section title hints at, it's the "A, and B, and C, Oh My!" expression. People use that all the time. Where does it come from, and what is the original text? --Oskar 23:56, 15 October 2007 (UTC)

In The Wizard of Oz Dorothy, Scarecrow, and the Tin Man are traveling through the forest, and worry about the "Lion and tigers and bears. Oh my!" GreatManTheory 00:04, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

Ahh, that's it! Yes, now that I know, it feels pretty obvious. Thank you :) --Oskar 00:19, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

There should be a term for a meme that's been around so long, many people forget the original usage. Like "What we've got here is (a) failure to communicate," or "We don't need no stinking..." They're from Cool Hand Luke and The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, respectively. -- Mwalcoff 02:01, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

I think the usual term is meme... 130.88.47.48 12:19, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

More cowbell is also a meme, but people remember where it came from. I'm thinking of an equivalent to dead metaphor, but specific to memes. -- Mwalcoff 23:55, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

The term for the use of a such a phrase with some type of variation (as alluded to by the original question) is snowclone. --LarryMac | Talk 14:11, 16 October 2007 (UTC)

• If the meme is verbal, then the term you're thinking of is Idiom -- an expression whose meaning is not obvious from the literal words used. --M@rēino 22:11, 17 October 2007 (UTC)