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December 28, 2005

Rant

Few things rankle me more than a bobo driving an older BMW, festooned with "Defeat Bush" and "No Blood for Oil" bumperstickers, with the audacity to beep his horn at me for riding my bike to the office, thus causing him to actually turn his attention to the road rather than the conversation he is holding on his cell phone.

This and That

Yes, I am busy. Yes, we are getting some sleep. Yes, Sebastien likes his little brother. Yes, we are surviving. We're probably doing a bit better than surviving, actually.

I haven't found much free time in front of the computer lately to write (though I have been scribbling a bit over here). I've been reading more lately. I just finished up Technique and the Opening Chapters of Genesis by Jacques Ellul, which we will be discussing this month in our church's, ahem, philosophy club. I'll likely write on it more next week. I also received two books for Christmas, The Praise of Folly by Erasmus and The Cross-Shattered Christ by Stanley Hauerwas. We received a Barnes and Noble giftcard as well, so I expect to pick up a copy of Gargantua and Pantagruel by Rabelais as well.

I have re-embraced my vocation as programmer/hacker lately, in part because my new job is actually challenging. I've also offered my services to the New Pantagruel as a web lackey, and I've been trying to develop a system to allow articles and essays to be published as PDFs. It's been quite a challenge, since there are few open source options for HTML to PDF conversion, though I may have found a winner with the combination of html2ps and ghostscript. The new issue is due out shortly.

My first wheelbuilding effort is also complete. I rode the new wheel to work yesterday, and much to my surprise, none of the spokes snapped. The wheel is even relatively true and round. Though it took me two weeks or so to complete, the process wasn't terribly difficult, and I doubt I'll ever purchase a built wheel again. I can now cross "wheelbuilding" off my list of things to learn. Now to only get Jen to allow me to take about the transmission on the new car....

December 11, 2005

Watercarrier Alleycat

There's something about these December alleycats that I just really enjoy. Perhaps its riding in the city, at night, under the stars. Perhaps the cold, crisp air. I wasn't sure if I would even line up to start this one -- what, with a baby coming any moment, and six inches of snow falling just a few days ago. I found the time to go to Kraynick's and buy a new chain for my winter bike* -- it was shocking to discover that's all it required after a winter of abuse -- so I was prepared for the potentially snowy streets. And the baby was no where to be found, so there I was at Duke's at 6:00pm, looking over the manifest and plotting my course.

The race was simple -- 6 checkpoints, roughly forming a triangle drawn by the rivers, with no order and no jobs to perform. The start was chaotic. Apparently, once you had your manifest you could start, so I found myself trying to unlock my bike (why did I lock it to the top of the chain link fence?), pull on my gloves, and look at the manifest at once. A group had already slipped away, and I was trying hard to catch them, but after catching a red light at Center and Neville, I was already behind. So well, I thought, it is a nice night for a ride. A quick stop at the Kiva Han on Craig Street, and I was on my way to the Pather Hollow Lake.

Some folks had opted to approach the lake via Neville Street and into the hollow, and, in retrospect, this would have been the better plan. Once in the park, I was forced to dismount, run down several sets of snowy stairs, and then negotiate a quarter mile of snowy runny trails. Once I picked up my token at the stop, I continued another hundred yards or so with the bike on my shoulder. The bike path was (surprisingly clean of snow, which boded well for the trip into town on the Jail Trail. The sidewalk leading to the trail, however, was the most treacherous part of the ride, the surface being alternately snow, slush and ice. It was slow going, but soon enough I slipped through the gate, just ahead of two other folks, and we were cruising between the massive concrete lanes of the Parkway East.

I slowly picked up my cadence the first quarter of the trail, alternately pulls with the two other riders. I was worried that I'd be dropped promptly, as one person was on a geared bike, and the other on a fixed gear with undoubtably a higher gear ration than I was running (a mere 39x16). I hit my stride as we approached the slight crest below the Birmingham Bridge, and as the jail became visible, I noticed their shadows, cast by the dull orange glow of the streetlights, falling away behind me.

It is moments like these that make cycling so enjoyable. Spinning smoothly, under the stars on a crisp winter night, chasing my shadow. Absolutely no wasted movement. The wooosh of air past my ears. The din of automobile traffic on either side. The quiet whir of my tyres on the tarmac. Perfection.

The end of trail was oddly snowy and icy (odd because the majority of trail was completely dry. The checkpoint workers ahead shouted to slow down, as the final stretch was under a sheet of black ice. I had caught another trio at the end of the trail, and the four of us climbed out of the trail and into the streets of downtown. We slipped through Point State Park, climbed the ramp to the bridge deck, and were spinning across the river. Once we had a tokens from the checkpoint at the end of the bridge, we looped around and around, down the spiralling ramp back to the street. Since I actually knew where the next checkpoint (the zig-zag pedestrian bridge on River Avenue) was, the trio asked me take the lead through the streets of the North Side.

Once on River Avenue, I was spinning again. The street was quiet and dark, my concentration only interrupted by the railroad crossings (crossings which would, I heard after the race, bring down two riders. Neither was badly injured.). i counted down the blocks with the bridge crossings -- 16th Street, the Veteran's Bridge, 40th Street. I peered over my shoulder and noticed the trio had slipped behind. I focused again and saw the 31st Bridge ahead, the signal I was approaching the checkpoint.

"Hey wait!"

Lost in the moment, I nearly passed the checkpoint. I circled back, picked up my token and waited a moment for the trio of riders to catch me. As we pulled away, options to the next stop, a warehouse on Gold Way on Polish Hill, were discussed. The group wanted to go up Liberty, cut across the Bloomfield Bridge, and then go back down the checkpoint. I didn't say anything, but I thought it would be better, albeit harder, to climb Herron Avenue directly to Polish Hill. We climbed the ramp to the 31st Street Bridge, and I stood up on the pedals and began to pull away from the group again.

Once in the Strip District, I waffled. Herron Avenue would be a hard, slow climb. Melwood Avenue, leading to Gold Way, would likely be messy and snow covered. I nearly passed the briddge at the start of Herron until I saw two sets of blinking red lights crossing the span. That was enough motivation to quickly make the right turn. My legs felt a bit heavy at this point, as I had pushed hard across the 31st Street Bridge. As I hit the first switchback on Herron, however, I began to reel in one of the bikes, and that was enough motivation. Another switchback. Then a quick left turn on Melwood, which was, as expected, covered with a thin veneer of snow and slush. Three of us were spread across a block or so. We rode under the Bloomfield Bridge, and hit the last crest before the stop. I quickly stood up again, and caught the rider in front me as she downshifted to deal with the incline and decreasing levels of grip. As we pulled into the stop, two others were just pulling away. Quickly, the four of us continued the final few blocks to the finish line, a house in Bloomfield.

Several other folks had finished ahead of the group I was in. It turns out, however, that all but one had missed one of the checkpoints (apparently, folks didn't look the manifest closely enough to determine the location of the zig-zag bridge stop). That left me in second place. I was surprised at my pace, given the gearing on my bike, and relatively poor start. I was pretty happy though, given I didn't make my usual navigational blunders.

December 06, 2005

On Not Winning

A few months ago, I decided to (finally) replace the front wheel on the Steamroller. The existing wheel was probably ten years old, first purchased used from the old Pennsylvania Mountain Exchange when Jen got her commuter, and finally, after much abuse both on road and off, I broke a spoke on the morning commute, and provided enough impetus to actually purchase a new wheel. I thought this would be a fine opportunity to improve my bike expertise, so I committed to building the wheel myself. Two friends have recently built their own wheelsets, and they assured me the process was easier than any mechanic would have you believe. Armed with that enthusiasm, I began to research product.

This should have been an easy decision. The rear wheel, purchased used a year ago, is a Miche pista hub, laced to a Mavic MA-3 rim with DT spokes. I should have immediately purchased the same components and been on my way. Instead, spendthrift that I am, I researched less expensive (read cheaper) hubs. A week or so later, it was apparent that the Miche hub would be the best choice. The next decision? Where to buy. It's generally difficult to find a "deal" on pista equipment, unless someone is having some sort of closeout sale, so you can expect to pay roughly the same price for a Miche hub wherever you go. In the interest of supporting the local bike shop, I decided to simply order the hub through the shop, thus saving shipping and giving them my business.

This was my first mistake.

A few after I placed the order, I stopped in to check the status. Oops, they said, we forgot to order the hub. The person that took my order generally handles all the fixed gear special orders, but he went on vacation, and in his absence, no one bothered to check the order book. Excellent. I wasn't in dire need of the equipment, and I didn't even have a rim or spokes, so I wasn't terribly upset. They placed the order the next day, and within two more weeks, I had the hub, at a bit of a discount thanks to their mistake.

The next decision would be the rim and spokes. I wanted to give my money to the shop again, but they didn't stock any rims, and I didn't want to wait another two or three weeks. Again, in the interest of staying local, I called a few other shops, and finally found one that had a rim comparable to the MA-3 for a decent price. I stopped by the shop, explained my situation, and they said they could also cut spokes if they didn't have the proper size in stock.

Here's where I didn't do my homework.

I should have already calculated the proper spoke length for the rim they stocked with the handy spreadsheet that is freely availabe. But I didn't. They wanted to charge me nearly $30 to calculate the spoke length. This on top of the $1 they wanted to charge me for every spoke (32 were needed). Sorry, I said, but I can do that myself. So I left empty-handed. So that's it, I decided. Enough of supporting the local economoy. Big online retailer, here I come. I found a MA-3 rim on sale, and spokes for less than half of what the local shops wanted to charge. I was even able to upgrade to two day shipping for only $3. I was officially in business.

Or not.

It turns out the company didn't send the purchase next day. They sent it parcel post, meaning 7-10 business days. And, they shipped the spokes apart from the rim (because of course, there's no room for 40 spokes in a rim box, right?). The rim arrived in roughly 7 days, while the spokes went from Durham, NC, to York PA, to Memphis TN, and finally to Pittsburgh. Yesterday the package arrived, and I was excited to start the project.

After dinner, I sat down and started lacing. It was easier than expected, the only real trick being getting the second set of trailing spokes started (the guide I had printed had a page break in the middle of the diagram). As I finished the second set of leading spokes, I noticed my supply of spoke nipples dwindling faster than the supply of spokes. It seems the second bag of spokes had been ripped prior to shipping, and was missing 10 nipples. So there I was -- five empty spoke holes, unable to complete the task. I wasn't even upset, really. How could I be, given the absurdity of the entire process?

Now, I can only hope that the local economy can sell me five spoke nipples...

December 01, 2005

The Tough Choices

Caleb Stegall has made a late addition to version 2.3 of the New Pantagruel, Natural Law, the Death Penalty, and Political Theology: An Editorial Response to First Things. The essay is an examination of an apparent contradiction between FT editors on the matter of political theology, but as a response to that contradiction, Stegall begins to outline his own political theology, based in the writings of Augustine.

By recognizing and articulating clearly the source, location, and function of both the natural law and the Christian law, and by understanding them as mixed in an age that was passing away but which contained “loved things held in common,” Augustine made a key breakthrough in the development of political theology which in its fundamental form remains valid today–a penitent, tragic political theology bound to pay an ongoing debt to nature yet cemented by a love that is both universal and particular: it transcends the City of God and orders all mankind; it is also concerned with the things of this world–“the things which are passing away”–and not with the things to come. However, this Augustinian balance has always been precarious. When the tension between the natural law and the Christian law collapses, the result is a disordering pressure either towards a rolling back of the protective shadow of the Christian law and engagement in the world wholly under the stark glare of nature which rewards only power and results in open tribal and political conflict, or towards a Gnostic denial of the reality of the law of nature and ideological attempts to remake the present age into the age to come.

Stegall's reading of Augustine is not typical in Catholic and Reformed circles. Calvinists, in particular, see the work of the government as the work of God, and as such, it is a praiseworthy activity (I'm often frightened, really, by some Calvinist/conservative web sites that see the war on terrorism and the war in Iraq as God's work). I've never been comfortable with such a perspective, and I've found the pacificist views of John Howard Yoder and Stanley Hauerwas to be in agrreement with Christ's own teaching. But, a pacificist political theology is problematic. How does the State maintain order? Can the police use force? Is it permissiable to defend yourself? Christ tells us to turn the other cheek, but am I ready to turn if someone threatens my family?

The pacificist's anti-war position is not difficult to defend. But things get sticky when we examine the use of violence by the State. Some pacificists believe that the State may use non-lethal force -- rubber bullets or billy clubs -- to maintain societal order. But this strikes me as sort of an odd compromise -- violence is permissable in the name of order, but deadly violence isn't. It is, however, the position of realist, understanding that a pacificist can't have it both ways -- no violence and societal order. We live in a fallen world, and life in that world is, to borrow a phrase, nasty, brutish, and short. The relative comfort in which we live is a result of a State which has used violence as a means to an end -- to promote and maintain a (mostly) just and ordered society*.

It is here that Stegall's perspective on Augustine's "penitent, tragic political theology" separates from the typical evangelical and even reformed theology -- this necessity of maintaining social order in the City of Man requires that those involved in the politcal process be prepared to "sin boldy" and understand that societal order does not always mesh easily with God's commands. Many in the reformed tradition (beginning, of course, with Calvin) view the responsibilities of civil government as mandated, and blessed, by God -- including war and capital punishment -- and that those who are called into civil service are worthy of praise for fulfilling these responsibilities. I've never been particularly comfortable with this political theology, given my pacificist leanings, and what Christ had to say. At the same, I don't have many good answers for political questions, and the challenge of what is to be done to maintain order in society, and, more importantly, what is to be done if my family is threatened.

It's somewhat therapeutic to examine the life and work of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Bonhoeffer was a committed pacificist, but when faced with the horror that was the Third Reich, Bonhoeffer realized that such an evil could not simply be overcome by turning the other cheek. To that end, Bonhoeffer joined Abwehr resistance (though there is much speculation as to the extent of his participation). Bonhoeffer, however, struggled with his participation as he understood that violence undermined the Gospel message. Yet he also understood that Hitler could not be defeated with non-violent resistance, and therefore decided to "sin boldly" and join the fight. John de Gruchy, reviewing Stanley Hauerwas' Performing the Faith: Bonhoeffer and the Practice of Nonviolence, says:

Bonhoeffer’s reluctant involvement in the conspiracy against Hitler certainly does not provide unambiguous Christian justification for resorting to violence and war. He knew only too well that even a "just war" is still war with all its awful consequences. Rather, Bonhoeffer confronts us as someone who, in following Christ, made a personally costly decision that doing nothing to rid the world of Hitler was worse than doing what he did, however ambiguous the moral issues. That is what peacemaking demanded of him at that time and place. In making that decision he could only "sin boldly" and cast himself on the grace of God.

Of course, Bonhoeffer's case is one of extremes. But the point remains -- the business of life in the City of Man is a dirty one. What remains is our response. The pacifists hold a Biblical truth, as given in the Sermon on the Mount, that we are to be peacemakers, and that we should not repay violence with violence. I'd like to fancy myself a true pacifist, but I cannot account for two things: 1) How do I respond when my family is threatened? and 2) Can I really expect the City of Man to survive without the force wielded by the civil authorities? These questions carry their own sets of problems. Should Christians really be concerned with the state of the City of Man? Why not go the way of the anarachists and wish away society completely. Yet such theology seems disingenuous -- here I am, the anarchist, living in my house in a city, using public utilities, under the protection of the civil government. Even if I don't rely on the services of government -- we move out of the city and off the grid -- we still live in the long shadow in the fruits of the State.

Tough choices indeed. Stegall's reading of Augustine is comforting in its humility. We will fail God in the City of Man, maintaining our families and our communities, and we can do little more than throw ourselves at the feet of Christ and ask for His mercy. Mistakes will be made. We can only hope "[I]f the mercy is true, you must therefore bear the true, not an imaginary sin. God does not save those who are only imaginary sinners. Be a sinner, and let your sins be strong (sin boldly), but let your trust in Christ be stronger, and rejoice in Christ who is the victor over sin, death, and the world. We will commit sins while we are here, for this life is not a place where justice resides. We, however, says Peter (2. Peter 3:13) are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth where justice will reign."

* It can be argued that our society is only ordered and just for a selection of the population, but I would counter that the majority of citizens live in relative safety.