Book notes:

:: A few days ago I finished reading David Brin’s science fiction novel Sundiver. This is the first novel in his Uplift series, which as far as I can tell involves two separate trilogies. The central concept of the series, that of “Uplift”, is that all sentient species in the galaxy have been “uplifted” to sentience by a previous, older species — all species, that is, except humanity, which appears to have had no benefactor species at all. Humanity may well be the only species that did not receive a helping hand.

The Uplift series — sometimes called a “saga” — has been cited in some places as being a space opera, with giant wars and ancient races and relics and whatnot; I was thus surprised that this book is basically cast as a mystery, and it’s not the most involving one, unfortunately. A scientist named Jacob Demwa is working to “uplift” dolphins when he is asked to join an expedition into the upper portions of the Sun itself in a spherical ship called a “Sunship”, in order to observe a race of aliens that actually live within the star itself. This whole idea is fascinating, and the best parts of the book evoke that “sense of wonder” that drives all of the best science fiction, and this facet of the book is really why I recommend reading it. The mystery plot, involving various scientific factions and a galactic “pecking order” amongst the races and species, is less involving because it’s fairly clear who the villain actually is (although the way in which it’s all revealed is fairly nifty). It’s one of those mysteries that the reader can solve by filling in the blank for the sentence, “It would be the most surprising for the murderer to turn out to be _____” So I found myself absorbed in the dives into the sun, in the interactions with the solar beings, and the explorations of Brin’s future while I also found myself skimming over the “investigation” bits (which include one of those standard “parlor gatherings” that ended every Agatha Christie novel). I’ve looked at a few reviews of Sundiver since I finished it, and the consensus opinion seems to be that the Uplift series gets much, much better after this first novel (which is also Brin’s first novel, period). Some even call the series a classic, so Sundiver is successful in that I want to read more of this universe and explore more of these ideas. On the grading curve, I guess I’d call it a B-minus.

:: I was delighted last week to find that my local public library had copies of Asimov on Science Fiction and Asimov’s Galaxy: Reflections on Science Fiction, both by the great Isaac Asimov. These books, or at least the essays contained within, should be sought out by anyone interested in the background or nuts-and-bolts of science fiction. The essays — many of them written for Asimov’s Science Fiction, one of the last SF magazines still being published — reflect Dr. Asimov’s views on various matters pertaining to science, science fiction, science fiction writing, writing in general, fantasy, and occasional political matters. Asimov’s fiction writing nowadays seems very unsophisticated, and in a lot of ways it really is, but Asimov was a leading light in SF for many, many years — but still, too few — and these essays capture the thoughts of one of the twentieth centuries most fluid and liveliest minds. Some of the essays have been reprinted elsewhere, but I haven’t read many of them in a long time — at least five years for some of them — so I greatly welcomed encountering them again. To this day, Asimov’s blunt statement regarding the importance of learning spelling and grammar is the best such formulation I have ever seen:

Besides, take it from an old war-horse, if your spelling and grammar are rotten, you won’t be writing a great and gorgeous story. Someone who can’t use a saw and hammer does not turn out stately furniture.

Beautiful.

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The presents are opened, the toys have all been played with at least once, much food has been consumed, and a large tree with lights still sits in the living room, although it is now beginning to dry out a bit and drop the needles that will still be piercing the flesh of an unsuspecting foot next August. Christmas has come, and gone.

We had a lovely time this year. We attended a church service on Christmas Eve, although we had to go to the early service instead of the late one; then we went out for our traditional drive to observe Christmas lights on people’s houses culminating in a drive through Lights On the Lake, an amazing drive-through Christmas light display on the shores of Onondaga Lake (the lake at one end of which Syracuse is located). As we drove through Lights On The Lake, we listened to our local classical station’s broadcast of the St. Olaf Christmas Festival, a gorgeous concert of sacred music involving a number of St. Olaf College musical ensembles. (This brought back a flood of memories of my own college experiences with our own annual Christmas musical pageant. Remember those, Sean?)

We marked Christmas morning by making waffles and sausage for breakfast — one of our favorite meals, but one which we don’t indulge in often because, well, it’s not that healthy. (I tend to view waffles as a delivery-mechanism for large quantities of Mrs. Butterworth’s.) Then, after we’d eaten our fill — we would not eat again until dinnertime, we were so full — it was off to the tree to open presents, with the observation that this is probably the last Christmas for a number of years into the future that we will be able to sleep in. I expect our daughter next year to start the business of waking us up slightly before sunrise in order to open everything.

The best gift I received was a VHS copy of the Extended Version of Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring, which I had no idea was even released on VHS (and in widescreen, to boot). Circumstances have conspired in such a way as to keep us behind the DVD revolution, but now I will get to see the four-hour version of the film at long long last, which means that a certain friend of mine will have one less thing to pester me about every time I encounter him online. (You know who you are….) Something of a tradition of mine is that I give my wife a new book, which she invariably loves and ends up losing a bit of sleep because she reads the book before going to sleep at night and I always manage to pick out one of those “Well, just one more chapter” types of books. This year it’s Ken Follett’s new one, Hornet Flight.

But the best thing was watching our daughter open her gifts. I’ve noticed that there are two kinds of people in the world: the ones who look at the toys kids have today and say, “Man, the toys we had in my day are sure better than this crap!” and the ones who look on today’s toys and think, “Man, I wish I’d had these toys, because mine were sure crap!” I tend to fall in the latter camp, although I don’t think my toys were lousy. It’s just that these are so cool…expecially the LeapPad. This is just totally nifty, and it’s already getting us more quiet time as she plays with it in her room. Hooray and Huzzah for the LeapPad!!

There were also the obligatory new videos: Monsters Inc. (which we’ve already seen), Ice Age (which we haven’t), and a Veggie Tales video. We’ve become pretty big fans of Veggie Tales, even if the tomato-guy by his look reminds me ever-so-slightly of Cartman from South Park.

Dinner, for those still reading this post, included ham, corn in butter sauce, garlic-and-parmesan couscous (couscous being one of the greatest foods ever invented, as far as I am concerned) and a nice Zinfandel. (Real, red Zinfandel, not the “white” Zin — although I do like white Zin as a summertime wine, when blush wines tend to fare better.)

Setting aside the religious importance of Christmas, I love all the trappings of the holiday — the trees, the colored lights, the ornaments, the music. It never bothers me in the slightest measure that the trees start going up in the department stores and malls in October; what bothers me more are the now-bare trees I see hauled out to the sidewalk for weekly garbage pickup on December 27. It bothers me that to such a degree we have relegated beauty — even the simple beauty of a tree with colored lights and sparkly ornaments hung upon its branches — to such a specific timeframe, to be complained about if it’s begun too early and to be dispensed with according to a specific timetable. (Not that it should stay in the living room until March, of course. We’re not the Simpsons, after all.)

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To all the readers — loyal, occasional and accidental — of Byzantium’s Shores: I wish you all the merriest of Christmases.

“Noel: Christmas Eve 1913”, by Robert Bridges (1844-1930).

A frosty Christmas Eve when the stars were shining

Fared I forth alone where westward falls the hill,

And from many a village in the water’d valley

Distant music reach’d me peals of bells aringing:

The constellated sounds ran sprinkling on earth’s floor

As the dark vault above with stars was spangled o’er.

Then sped my thoughts to keep that first Christmas of all

When the shepherds watching by their folds ere the dawn

Heard music in the fields and marvelling could not tell

Whether it were angels or the bright stars singing.

Now blessed be the towers that crown England so fair

That stand up strong in prayer unto God for our souls

Blessed be their founders (said I) an’ our country folk

Who are ringing for Christ in the belfries tonight

With arms lifted to clutch the rattling ropes that race

Into the dark above and the mad romping din.

But to me heard afar it was starry music

Angels’ song, comforting as the comfort of Christ

When he spake tenderley to his sorrowful flock:

The old words came to me by the riches of time

Mellow’d and transfigured as I stood on the hill

Heark’ning in the aspect of th’ eternal silence.

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An addendum to yesterday’s football thoughts: I had no delusions that the Steelers would be able to go into Tampa and win, especially with the Bucs striving for home-field advantage. Well, was I ever wrong…the bone-jarring, drive-snuffing defense turned out to be Pittsburgh’s, as they were able to make the ten points the offense scored stand up, and add a touchdown of their own to boot. And it is always a pleasure to see a trash-talker like Warren Sapp (a player I actually like, although I wish he’d tone it down a bit) get beat.

John Madden summed up the meaning to the Bucs of losing last night’s game best. Al Michaels noted that by losing, instead of having a first-round bye and home-field advantage in the playoffs, they would instead have to play a first-round game at home and then have to go on the road to either Green Bay or Philadelphia, and then to the other of those two locations the next week. Madden replied, “If they go to one of those places in the second round, they won’t get to the other one the week after.”

And now, of course, both of my Super Bowl picks have won their divisions. [Voice of the Emperor]Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen….[resume normal voice]

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A quick maintenance note: the Image of the Week will be taking two weeks off, this week and next week. Also, there will be no further updates this week until Friday.

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Note to political commentators: Beware “auto-correct” spelling programs in your word processors and weblog software. One of the MSN homepage‘s headlines this morning had the presumptive new Senate Majority Leader’s surname as “First”.

And now I can’t help but think of the Captain Oveur character in Airplane!….

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Just a few notes on yesterday’s football action:

:: As expected, the Bills fell to the Packers. Going into Lambeau field on a sub-freezing day in December, when the Pack is having a good year, is an almost impossible task for anyone. Of course, that doesn’t mean that the Bills needed to help them out by giving up six turnovers. And I’m a bit chagrined that after I set up camp in Sean‘s comment section defending Drew Bledsoe, the Bills’ QB goes out and has his worst games of the year, by far. Ugh. And a double ugh, considering that the Bills’ defense, which I have been maligning all year, had its best game yesterday.

The game did point out the one thing I think the Bills need to add to their offense for next year. (Well, maybe two things.) They already have the outstanding receiver duo (and maybe trio, when promising rookie Josh Reed blossoms); they’ve got the franchise quarterback; they’ve got the franchise running back; they’ve got the young and quickly improving offensive line (not that you could tell by yesterday’s abominable pass-blocking, but anyway….). They still need a good tight end, something the Bills have lacked since Pete Metzelaars retired years ago. Jay Riemersma simply isn’t it, and the big contract that John Butler gave him was simply unwarranted then and insane now. The other thing the Bills really need, especially for games like yesterdays — cold-climate games with wind conditions that hobble the passing game — is a good, blocking fullback. Larry Centers is a good pass-catcher out of the backfield (he has more receptions than any RB in NFL history), but he’s not a great blocker. I remember how in the early 90s, when the Cowboys were so good, Emmitt Smith would run behind the blocking of not only a great offensive line but the superior blocking of fullback Moose Johnston. A good lead blocker yesterday would made a big difference in Travis Henry’s output in a game where he only had 2.3 yards per carry. The Bills were unable to establish their running game yesterday, despite a JCPenney shopping bag full of opportunities to do so.

So the Bills are officially out of the playoff hunt, and I am now just a football fan. Could be worse, eh?

:: It’s official: I now dislike the Patriots more than I dislike the Dolphins. That said, it looks like the Dolphins are about to complete another of their patented December swoons (which they incidentally seem to have licensed out to the Saints and Chargers this year) by losing to the Pats this coming week. The Dolphins can win the division by winning at New England, but they are 2-5 on the road, and history doesn’t particularly favor teams from South Florida going to snowy, northern stadiums in December. However, the Jets’ defeat of the Pats last night means that the Jets, who are home for the Packers, can win the division if the Pats do, in fact, defeat Miami. So next week I’m rooting for Miami and the Jets.

:: I didn’t see last night’s Jets-Patriots game, but judging by his linescore, Tom Brady was not particularly impressive. (19-37, 133 yards, 1 touchdown, 1 interception.)

:: Super Bowl prediction update: The Eagles are in position to clinch home-field advantage next week, and a win in either of their next two games clinches the AFC North for the Steelers.

:: The Titans and the Giants may be the most dangerous teams right now.

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Updates to Byzantium’s Shores will be light this week, considering the holiday and other projects that I am trying to shove out of my cranium. I’m in the home stretch of the novel-in-progress, and the story that’s been fermenting in my mind is at last ready to be bottled (on second thought, I don’t like that metaphor…). I am working on a few longer essays for eventual appearance here, but none of them are done yet.

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Even though I don’t live in Buffalo anymore, I still care deeply about the old hometown. When you hear about all the old, industrial Northeastern cities that fell on hard times in the 1970s and 1980s but then made big comebacks in the 1990s, with revitalized downtowns and commitments to high-tech industries to shore up the eroding tax bases — cities like Cleveland and Baltimore — one also notes, lurking in the background, those other poor cities, the ones knocking on the window and crying, “Can I play too?” That’s Buffalo, sadly — a city with miles and miles of undeveloped waterfront land that, for more than a decade, has had local politicians saying “We’ve got to develop that land!” and then having nothing happen; a city that is grasping not just at casino gambling, but Indian-run casino gambling (which, according to last week’s TIME Magazine, in all likelihood will not even benefit the Indians running the thing) as the latest silver-bullet to jump-start a downtown that only needs a few tumbleweeds and an Ennio Morricone soundtrack to finish the current look; a city where financial management is so bad that the City Controller literally could not find some of the city’s money; a city whose economy is such dire straits that even in a time of fiscal crisis the city officials found a way to ride to the rescue of, not a local factory or hospital or other big industry, but K-Mart.

So it’s not at all surprising to read today that the Buffalo Sabres may be forced to leave town if the city and state can’t help get the team sold. And I won’t be at all surprised if they find the money, somehow. They found it when the Sabres threatened to leave town unless they got a new arena; they found it when the Bills likewise threatened to leave unless Ralph Wilson Stadium (then Rich Stadium), a county-owned facility, were significantly upgraded; they found it when K-Mart threatened to leave the city. (And we’re talking about one store here — that’s all. They kept a single K-Mart open.) They couldn’t find it, though, when there wasn’t enough to keep all the fire departments and police precincts open. They haven’t been able to find enough to keep from having to close schools and repair the ones still open.

Hockey’s not my thing, really, but I love sports. I think that professional sports (and collegiate sports, if there is a good program in town) add a great deal to a municipality’s lifestyle. I root for the Bills very strongly, and I do root for the Sabres, even though I’m far from passionate about them. I’d hate to see Buffalo lose its franchises, but I’m not sure that spending the money to keep them — when there are bigger, more important problems to be solved — is a good idea. When we’re saying “Gee, we just can’t give the schools and the arts the funding they want, but we’ll see what we can come up with for the hockey team”, I think the priorities are a bit, maybe just a little, a tiny bit, f*cked up. And I’m not at all convinced that sports bring in huge amounts of revenue, nor am I convinced that they spawn business development. I’ve driven through too many areas — in Buffalo and in other cities — where these arenas, stadiums and ballparks exist, surrounded by nothing but parking lots, empty buildings and nothing else.

A recurrent topic in Buffalo is the city’s “brain-drain”: the fact that the bright, young people almost inevitably leave once they become adults because good jobs are very scarce there. In effect, the city’s young — its children — are saying, “We may be forced to leave town if you can’t come up with the jobs that we want.” Faced with that choice on the one hand by its children, and on the other by its hockey team, Buffalo keeps choosing to keep the hockey team.

Is this any way to run a city?

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I haven’t seen The Two Towers yet. I don’t know when I’ll get to see it, but I’m hoping for sometime next week. It’s hard waiting, but then, I’ve survived long waits for movies before. I survived the sixteen years between Return of the Jedi and The Phantom Menace, after all.

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