SIEM

Most people know Siem as “Harry”. That’s what we called him when he was still doing the undercover job, so to speak, giving his mum grief and already winning our hearts by just being a bump, even though it meant we had to lose our favourite flat mate.

And now he’s a Real Boy!

Please pray for Hester and Siem! Since Hester has a very active extended family I’m probably not on top of the allowed visitors list (and why was he born late, just after our student travel cards expired for summer? Naughty boy!), but I hope to give a full count of the fingers and toes soon

And the light shines in the darkness

Guy That Keeps Me Sane went to hang out with his mum for a couple of days. Neither of them are Catholics, but The Mum is very “spiritually interested”, and we’ve had a couple of great talks about religion. When Guy came back he brought me a present from her, with the message that 1. yes, she knows I’m not his girlfriend; 2. she knows this is pure kitsch; 3. she hopes I like it. 

It’s a glow in the dark rosary.

It’s tacky and ugly and features as a center medal a glow in the dark Sacred Heart of Jesus and Our Lady of Succour that click together in all their plasticness.

I absolutely love it.

I was a child convert. I grew up in a very un-catholic world - my parents weren’t practising and neither were any of their friends. When I was ten my best friend was also Catholic but her mum literally beat her into going to church, so I’d gathered she didn’t really count. 

My school, however, was very Catholic, maybe the only one in the country, and through that I knew a couple of kids who were cradles and thus able to completely take their faith for granted*. And later when I became a kids’ camp leader and hung out with seminarians a lot I got to meet much more of those people.

And it really seemed like every single one of them owned a glow in the dark rosary. Because there’s this period when you’re a kid** that glow in the dark really is the epitome of cool, and then someone gives you one (and you love it, unable to see that it’s ugly and costs 5 cents to make…) because that person knows you would like it and thinks rosaries are a perfectly normal gift.

Now I have a glow in the dark rosary for myself. Guy’s mum gave me a Catholic childhood.

 

 

*Not all of them did, but they could.
**In case of physicists and other cool people maybe not a period… 

“Uh-huh.”

“Weet je, je moet het echt zelf weten hoor, ik bedoel, het is jouw leven, maar ik hou gewoon van m’n vrijheid, weet je, m’n vrijheid is heel belangrijk voor me, weet je wel.”

“Uh-huh,” zei de ander welbespraakt, terwijl ze nog een koekje pakte, inspecteerde, en in haar mond stak.

“Ik bedoel, zoals met die kleren van je, dat is toch een beperking, snap je, je beperkt jezelf, in je individualiteit, hè, je moet wel je individualiteit houden hoor.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ja, je ziet er heel leuk uit hoor, daar niet van, dat bedoel ik niet, maar je mag best een kort rokje aan hè, dat kun je prima hebben, ik bedoel, niet naar de kerk en zo, maar gewoon toch wel, weet je wel?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ik zou het echt niet trekken hoor, ik zou het echt slecht trekken, begrijp je, als mensen me vertellen wat ik wel en niet aan mag, ik bedoel, ik weet wel dat ze dat bij jou niet echt doen of zo, maar toch, het zijn wel een soort van regels hè?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nou precies, je moet gewoon vrij zijn in je, in je expressie, weet je wel, je individuele expressie! En als je dan allemaal van die regels hebt en zo, dan gaat dat toch niet?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Daar wordt je echt niet gelukkig van hoor, van al die regels.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Hé, trouwens, ga je mee de stad in? Lisa had gelijk over die broek, zo’n lage heupband kan echt niet meer dit jaar, weet je wel, dus ik moet gewoon een nieuwe spijkerbroek hebben, en dan hopen dat ‘ie half zo lekker zit als m’n oude, haha.”

“Prima…”

“Kunnen we gelijk even voor jou kijken. Ik heb een hartstikke leuk jurkje gezien, echt perfect voor de zomer, en ik weet dat je retro bloemenprint niet mooi vindt, maar kijk gewoon even, hè, dat wordt het helemaal dit jaar…”

“Uh-huh.”

 

Eerder gepubliceerd in het julinummer van Eureka!, het magazine voor informatica, natuurkunde, sterrenkunde en wiskunde van de Universiteit Leiden in samenwerking met De Leidsche Flesch. (Oplage 2700, kuch.)

Laundry <3

Except for one skirt and one blouse (both white - not enough white stuff for a load) everything cloth-related that I own is clean.

Huzzah!

Which inspired the following:

An alternative manner of exploring one’s vocation

She supposed she should be glad, since her father’s single state had given her the experience she needed.

The cuffs. The collars. The rows of buttons down the front.

And oh singing lollipops, the sleeves, the never-ending pile of clean shirts with wrinkly sleeves.

No, Sr. M. Immaculata mused as she ironed eight scapulars in one minute flat, she was definitely called to the religious life.

Happy birthday…

Today marks the 63rd birthday of the Trinity explosion, the first nuclear test explosion.

It gave birth, among other things, to insane amounts of dead, mutilated and/or sick people, uncountable birth defects, and the nice touch that everything is contaminated with a small amount of unnatural radioactivity now, meaning that the contemporary colleagues of the physicists who made the Trinity now use scrap metal from WWII war ships to build casings for satellite sensors that have to be so sensitive that the background radiation from “new” steel is too big. (Did I mention that ethical training as part of the regular physics curriculum is important?)

I would like to propose that this is the worst abuse of the word/name/title “Trinity” in history. Although if there’s anything worse, I’m not sure I want to know.

On a lighter note:

$$ \bar{F}^{i + 1}_{bb} = f_y + f_{bb}\left(\frac{\eta}{\sigma}(v_{i} - v_{i+1})\right)^\beta $$

Or, if you prefer*:

If anyone wants to donate backslashes or curly brackets, you’re very welcome… I think I might run out of them! The prettiness of \LaTeX{} is overwhelming to the point that it’s dangerous. You could write total nonsense and I bet people would believe it because it looks so good.

Spelling corrector madness: “alpha”, “beta” and “sigma” are OK, but “eta” is wrong. So either the spellchecker people have been infiltrated by the Spanish government, or they suffer from a deep-running hatred of viscosity. 

Also, the corrector offers “theology” as an alternative to “rheology”. Since we’re talking about my dissertation, that’s pretty hilarious, I think. I should mention this to Atheist Advisor. After I’m done.

*With thanks to the writer of latextoimg, whose other occupation is keeping me sane.

Somewhere in the Church Province, July 2021

It all seemed like a usual Sunday morning, when Fr. X processed into church. He shook some hands, left and right, while the congregation sang “Zomaar Een Dak”. The whole atmosphere was lovely, just lovely. And did he notice a new family there? How wonderful! The woman looked a bit foreign and had a funny piece of black lace on her head. Since she was halfway down the pew Father decided to greet her after the Celebration. He hoped she wouldn’t mind.

Mass went great. Since the trainee pastoral worker had just covered this part of the gospel in her classes, Fr. X let her share the homily. The parishioners would love to hear the female perspective - after all, Jesus was a feminist!

There was a bit of confusion at communion, because the new family wasn’t used to this community’s traditions yet. Well, you can’t blame them, of course. Father made a mental note to kindly explain to the parents that you don’t have to kneel for communion anymore. After all, it’s about sharing. Rather impressive how she kneeled with a toddler clinging to her like that, though. For a moment he wondered how she raised her kids - they seemed so subdued, and they didn’t come up to the altar during the Offertory either. He hoped they’d gotten a good view from there. Maybe they were shy about holding hands with the other kids.

Fortunately his fears were put to rest when he saw them after Mass. The woman sat on the steps outside the church, surrounded by her children. The dad was unpacking sandwiches. The children were excited, laughing and talking, sometimes interrupting each other, and apparently agreeing a lot. “No, no,” said the woman, smiling, “There was another one, just after the Gospel. It’s a tough one, but Benedict, I’m sure you noticed it!” The eldest girl appeared to be taking notes. The eldest boy, who seemed about eight years old, looked thoughtful, until his face lit up. “He didn’t kiss it!” 

“Very good! Mary, did you get that?” The eldest girl nodded, with a wide grin.

“You’ve all done well today, kids.” The children looked smug until they were distracted by the sandwiches, which were wolfed down in no time at all.

“Who won, honey?” the dad said, as he sat down next to his wife.

“Well, Benedict got a difficult one, but Matthew’s been doing really well overall. I think it’s a tie.”

“And the total count was?” 

The woman let out a deep sigh. “Thirty-three.”

“Wow!” The man whistled. “Is that a record?”

“Unfortunately, no. And why are you smiling? This isn’t good news!”

“I know, dear, I know.”

As they fell silent, Fr. X decided this would probably be the least intrusive time, and walked up to them, hand extended. “Welcome, welcome! It’s so nice to see a new face!”

“Hello, Father,” the woman said, standing up. “Are you busy this afternoon?”

Taken aback, Fr. X answered, “No… I only have to do some shopping…”

“Oh, lovely!” the woman replied, heaving the toddler on her hip, and accepting her daughter’s notebook with her free hand. “Do you mind if we have some tea? I’m Mulier Paschalis, lay member of the Pontifical Council for the Liturgy. Don’t worry, I have a letter that explains it all… it’s somewhere in the diaper bag… I trust you read Latin? In any case, before we start, could you please take that green plastic binder off the altar?”

Fr. X just stared, jaw hanging.

“Ish the offeshtone foh the bloodlesh sacwifishe of Chwist,” the toddler explained.

 

 

 

 

For Puella, who will safe the (our) world someday, although probably not in this way.

The unthinkable has happened

I’ve been admitted to the cabal. 

The happy few.

The exalted.

The wireless user group of the lab network!

So now I can sit at an actual desk on an actual chair in an air-conditioned lab with no-one around, and work on my own dear laptop instead of the horrid student computers.

And now to push my thoughts on bubbles through the inspiredness that is LaTeX.

I’m sorry.

Dear friend,

I’m sorry for the things I did, or rather, the things I didn’t do. And even more so because I was so careless, in the literal sense, that I didn’t think about how my actions or lack thereof would affect you, and that I didn’t pay attention when you tried to tell me. I know this is just about the worst thing I could do to you. You have every right to be mad and to ignore me. I won’t ask you not to.

 

Because of what I did, and others did, and some things no-one did but still suck, I can understand that you’re hurt, angry, and lonely. But you need to know that we really, really love you. You’re an inspiration to me in many ways, not only religion (although that’s probably the most important one). I know  several others who feel the same and there are probably many more people that I don’t know about.

 

As you already decided, I’m probably not a  good person for you to be talking to right now - not with my chronic hearing problems. (I hope I will learn to listen better, and that would then be yet another thing you’ve taught me.) But there are people who you can talk to, and who want to help you out with whatever you want. Please go to them (or let them come to you). Do it for you, even though you don’t like you very much.

 

posted here so that people know it’s me, not you.

Ugh.

Google Reader does recommendations based on the blogs you’re subscribed to. They work painfully well.

I think it’d be better for me if the internet died again

Dat is best slim.

I think I’m going to like Dinesh D’Souza’s book.

 “Dit is de eeuwige verlokking van het atheïsme: het stuurt die strenge vent met de lange baard weg en maakt ons vrij voor de genoegens van zonde en losbandigheid. De atheïst denkt door de rechter aan de kant te zetten ook van het morele oordeel af te komen.”

Lees het hele artikel hier.