good saint nick

There are quite a few superstar saints but I think it is a challenge to find one with a more universal following and elaborate traditions than Saint Nicholas. Santa Claus or Father Christmas is a distinct and perhaps a bit of a derivative character, and while not just some corporate stooge, brainchild of Charles Dickens and Coca-Cola, nor ambassador of globalism as he’s sometimes unfairly made out to be, should not be confused or unused interchangeably with the original. The rituals that commemorate his approaching feast day (6. December) have intricate and escapingly elaborate basis in episodes of the saint’s life and enduring influence, and though abstractions and in some cases misunderstandings, I think that this level of detail and heritage keep the holiday and what goes with it inviolate and not usurped by commercial interests or whittled away. The weirdness and confusion of the holidays keep them intact and alive. Nicholas, whose name means “victory of the people,” was a bishop in Myra, Lycia (now Derme, Turkey) and was known for his great charity and playing secret-Santa for the needy, especially for finding creative ways to help those too proud to take hand-outs.

One story tells of a poor peasant who could not afford the dowry to marry off his three daughters, so decided to sell them into prostitution. Nicholas tried to get the father to reconsider but the man saw no other future for them if they went unwed, but reused the church’s overtures for assistance. Instead, under the cover of darkness, Nichols smuggled three purses of gold, one for each of the daughters—according to some sources, by dropping the coins one by one down the chimney and into their stockings drying over the embers in the fireplace. The iconography that generally accompanies portrayals of the saint is an allegory meant to recall these events, and over the centuries, the purses of money or coins came to be represented as three golden balls. People in the Netherlands seeing this depiction thought they were exotic oranges, which explains why one often gets these fruit for stocking-stuffers, and assumed Nicholas was from Spain, which also accounts for the indeterminate number of Moorish helpers who accompany him on his visits, although some say that they are not dark-skinned but rather sooty, owing to the whole connection with chimneys, that are there to judge the naughty and the nice and steal bad children away. The Bavarian counterpart, the anti-Saint Nick, is a monster called Krampus who is likewise along to expose awful kids. In France, the bad cop to the good cop following Nicholas on his rounds, is a reformed by formerly cannibalistic, mad butcher called Père Fouettard, referencing another wonder attributed to the saint: during a famine, a butcher lured three young boys (or in some versions, students) into his home, promising shelter but he slaughtered them and put their dismembered bodies in a barrel to cure and to later sell as hams. Nicholas joined the search party for these lost youths and confronted the butcher and saw through his deception, probably on account of the unexplained hams. And like Circe in reverse, Nicholas restored the youths. The butcher repented and followed Nicholas since. Patron of many occupations besides, from sailors, traders (hence the Dutch knowing about Spanish oranges) and thieves to students, pawnbrokers and children and for many places from Liverpool to Palestine and from Aberdeen to Malta, Nicholas does more than give good gifts.

paper chase or then ‘tis like the breath of an unfee’d lawyer

In Shakespeare’s Henry VI Part II, one of the henchmen of the pretender to the throne and usurper, Dick the Butcher, famously proposes, “The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.”
While maybe this seems in a modern context like an avenue to restore balance in an overly litigious society, it was meant rather as the most expedient route to counter counter-insurrectionists: regarded as the possibly the last and best defense against disorder and oppression, lawyers were regarded as unbiased keepers of justice and independent thought and a nuisance to revolutionaries.

Dick the Butcher, however, never met the courtly ranks of a secretive group of lobbying legal professionals called arbitrators. European Corporate Observatory presents an interesting and revealing treatment on the law firms and their retainers who pose exclusively to profit from injustice and pilot public policy in favour of private interests and enterprises. Though not precisely a new or isolated phenomena, the concerted efforts of these new ambulance-chasers are behind all the big headlines and points of contention, from energy companies’ prosecution of Germany for abandoning nuclear energy, the push for allowing G-M crops in Europe, aggravating independent research on the topic and science in general (at least in matters that might confound profits), labour equity and pensions—and all at the tax-payers’ expense since the unobliging defendant is the government. It seems that the interpretation of the butcher’s plan has become a backward-construction.  Be sure to check out more revealing stories at this watch-dog’s website.

deadline or santa’s little helpers

Every gift is a carefully crafted choice but it is especially so when presents require the consideration and advanced-planning and hidden logistical of the postal imperium required to shuttle them along with the spirit of the season around the world. Advent (meaning coming or anticipation) is beginning just now and is reduplicated with ceremony over a thousand different venues and with ritual calendars everywhere, and it makes me wonder about sending cheer away and the atmosphere that can’t quite be distilled and dispatched.

Sending a gift is something that is instantly given form and one can and does imagine its safe passage, arrival, which is hopefully in enough time to relax under the tree and inspire some curiosity, and ultimate reception, even if one cannot be there to see all these stages in person. The packing and preparation ahead of time, depending on the length of the journey, does not take the wind out of the season’s sails, so to speak, but the earliness does abstract a bit the whole rite and intent to some degree, wrapping then swaddling a gift before setting it off on some grand and far-reaching conveyor-belt.

It would be a much better alternative to the posting presents, I think,  if one could be like Santa Claus or gently float an entire palette of Christmas high enough into the stratosphere that the earth would rotate below it and the drop-point would come into range at a day’s pace, which sounds indutibably faster than guaranteed next-day-delivery under any circumstances. Still, the means readily available are a pretty good way to extend one’s presence and have good representation.

an der nadel or designer-drugs

Earlier on the radio there was a refreshing discussion regarding the ethics and unseen efficacy of personalized medicines, which promise not just a tailored dosage and a better prescription but rather pharmaceuticals coded by the patient’s own genetics and potentially adaptive to all one’s ills. The hopes and claims of a particularized-panacea are probably as exaggerated or as under-appreciated as generic cure-alls, and furthermore enhancing an individual’s would likely be at the expense of the health of the community with preventative measures and personal awareness of one’s natural (and acquired) defense and offense becoming obsolete.

Of course there are breakthroughs in treatment and maybe science could really come to augment chemistries and dispositions that rebel but it seems unlikely to make an industry out of the practice without trade-offs. The caveats reminded me of the strange case of Doctor Theodore Morell, tinkerer, patron of the ailments of the elite, snake-oil salesman and personal physician (Leibartz) to Adolf Hitler. After studying at a few illustrious medical universities, serving as a cruise ship doctor, and a brief stint as a medical officer during WWI, Morell settled down in Berlin, catering to high-society and fawning over vaguely drawn diseases. Initially, with his reputation established, he resisted invitations to be the private doctors for royalty, comfortable with his position and wanting to remain near the pharmaceutical concerns that he was heavily invested in. Morrell, however, did answer Hitler’s call. Most of Hitler’s intimates regarded Morell as a quack too eager to indulge Der Fuhrer’s moods and grievances but did not dare object when they saw their leader taking a regiment of dozens of pills a day, which included vitamins and other accelerators, like preparations of amphetamines, hormones and cocaine, which the doctor also tested on soldiers to increase stamina. I am sure that these extra measures became more taxing than the original, undefined ailments. While ultimately, such liberal treatment probably contributed to Hitler’s sense of paranoia and impulsiveness, exacerbating an already terrible situation, the bad doctoring may have also (inadvertently) led to paralysis in decision-making and inability to think strategically. In some cases it may be more advisable to take the suffering as the language of coping rather than silencing or out-shouting it.

velocipede or internet for robots

It’s a daily ritual to check on visitor statistics and always interesting to see “traffic” from exotic places or unusual inquiries that still managed to be filled—sometimes in creative and unexpected ways.

Sometimes, however, one is baited by spammy websites, that are just dragnet operations to get reciprocal attention. I am not quite certain how this recursive architecture, which is a pretty common thing and I suppose a large fraction of the gearbox of gauges, demographics and yields underlying what human pick, choose and settle on. These pings and soundings, I guess, are very different and I wonder if it’s a functional aspect of the system for such undercurrents to mimic the behaviours of authentic guests and hosts. What kind of evil-genius or impersonal routine marshals these gremlins and how is efficiency rated when it comes to counterfeiting interest and popularity? Usually such activity is obvious and I have learned to ignore it—not returning the visit. Over the past few weeks, however, I have received a barrage of highly specific calling-cards. First there was spike in visitors from Kazakhstan followed by various former-Soviet republics, but then the funny thing was all the websites were for their respective cycling associations and clubs. The sites themselves were all highly specific, organized and above-board and not at all spammy. It was like they were all just real proud of their websites, which were all different in terms of design, language and navigation and with genuine substance. While I don’t know what exactly redirected traffic, it was a strange coming together (flash mob) of company.

smiley, emoji

The city of Düsseldorf, which I unfortunately know nothing about aside from a sizable Japanese community and an art and design heritage, crowded amid the megapoli of the North Rhein, will be adopting the electronic shorthand :D, big grins, as its new symbol. That’s clever how the colon reflects the umlaut and I think that this will be a way of attracting attention and spurring interest in the city. The logo won’t replace any of the city’s historic arms and flags but I’m sure will become a fast and more recognizable association. With this new happy branding, I wonder if Düsseldorf be starting a trend. Can you think of any punctuation, emoticons that might convey, right away a place’s character or at least present a challenge to think of anything else?

coming home at all hours and in all colours

Wikipedia’s English portal features among its newest content a classic picture book (with full text and illustrated plates) on optical and afterimage phenomena, by JH Brown called Spectropia, or, surprising spectral illusions showing ghosts everywhere and of any colour. It is a very carefully crafted study of the eye and optics and the tricks that one’s senses can play. The author was concerned with the parlour cult of séances that was sweeping Victorian England, and he hoped that if young children were exposed to the scientific explanation of phantasmagorical imagery, they might later be less likely to fall for charlatans or make impulsive decisions driven by fear or superstition. The work is beautifully presented and executed and the motive behind it, sweeping away some of the cobwebs of the brain, is pretty neat too. I wonder if there ever was a trend in publishing to dispel or disabuse what might be other grand illusions of our programming and the artists who prey on them.