Publishing in Iran

Tonight my program had a seminar entitled Publishing in Iran. It was a presentation given by a former student (an Iranian), who had gone through the course last year. He had been one of three former students who had given a short speech on the first day of our induction on what to expect over the course of the year. He gave a very interesting talk on the Iranian publishing industry, the censorship the government imposes on the industry and how they implement it, and the state of copyright issues in Iran (officially there aren't any, because Iran hasn't signed any of the international copyright treaties). It was a very interesting talk.

He also mentioned that he had been in Iran during the protests after the presidential elections a few months ago. Drinks were served after the talk (which was odd-usually we have drinks before a talk), and I got the chance to ask him what it was like being in Tehran during the protests. It was then that I found out that he had been the doctor (before entering publishing he had studied medicine) who had been standing next to Neda when she was shot and the one who subsequently tried (unsuccessfully) to save her life. Needless to say, I was floored. I paid quite a bit of attention to the Iranian election and subsequent protests, and Neda's death was the most significant event of the demonstrations, other than the obviously fixed election results themselves. I asked him a few more questions about what he thought about the post-election state of Iran, and the feeling in the country during the protests, but the fact that he was involved in such a pivotal moment kind of threw me off my game. An extremely powerful revelation.

Youtube links are here, here and here to give this some context, in case you don't know what I'm talking about. In the first link, Arash is the guy on the right in the white shirt. Wow.

The Pitchforker's Pride is a Fallacy

At 1:30am on Sunday morning, while I was doing some homework (I know), I happened to discover that there was a new Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book coming out. The next day. In London, at an event called Hitchcon '09. The book, since Douglas Adams had died in 2001 (one of the saddest days of my life), had been written by Eoin Colfer, with the approval of Adams' widow and publisher. H2G2 was a serious influence on my life, and I knew that I had to go to London the next morning to get the next book. Unfortunately, because I am a lazy bastard (well, technically just lazy), I missed the one panel discussion I really wanted to see, which was a discussion about Douglas by people who had known him. So my day wound up being me buying the new novel, wandering around looking at the various paraphernalia they had laid out, watching a bit of the BBC H2G2 tv show they had running on a loop, going out to get some lunch, and then coming back to have my book signed by Colfer before I returned to Oxford. Altogether an amazing day.

I finished reading the book (And Another Thing...) Monday afternoon, and I can tell you it's good. Unfortunately for all of us, Adams was fantastic. Superb. Amazing. Whatever term you want to use to describe him, he was a step (or several) above good. Colfer has done a fine job with the characters, with the universe, and with the plot (in true Adams' fashion, it makes little or no sense). What Colfer cannot sustain is Adams' brilliance of phrasing, of putting things in such a way that is both unexpected yet perfect. This is not Colfer's fault-he actually achieves this at least a couple of points in the book, but can't sustain it like Adams.

That said, this book is worth the read. Especially if, like me (and Adams, as quoted in The Salmon of Doubt), you've always felt that Mostly Harmless is an uncharacteristically and undeservedly bleak end to the H2G2 series. The characters all return (except Marvin, who's death makes the end of So Long, and Thanks... the best of all the H2G2 novels), and Colfer does an excellent job of name dropping that dedicated fans will enjoy. Things are decidedly more upbeat, and even certain death is faced with the knowledge that things will turn out ok.

I was thrilled to learn about the book, and very happy to meet the author and get it signed. It's just that (without offense to Eoin Colfer), I wish it had been Adams doing the signing.

Views of Oxford from South Park

Yes. That's it's name.

MNF

I really, really wish I could be back in MN for this game. Not that I'm not enjoying myself in Oxford, but damn, this should be epic.

Why I'll Miss the Dome

If you're a Minnesotan baseball fan, you know why the Dome has to go. It's a football field. The sightlines were never meant for baseball. The concourses are too small, the bathrooms are too small, and you have to pee in a trough. But I'm going to miss the Dome. First all, it was home to the only two Minnesota sports championships of the modern age (i.e. not counting the Minneapolis Lakers), the '87 and '91 Twins, one of which ('91) is rated, if not the greatest, then among the greatest World Series ever played. I can't imagine a pair of more dramatic games than game 6 and 7. This was where Puckett and Hrbek (my favorite Twin) played. This is where a fly ball went up but never came down, where David Ortiz (Red Sox/steroids version) hit a massive should-have-been home run that hit a speaker and bounced back into play. This is where a capacity crowd welcomed the '87 Twins back home after defeating the much-favored Tigers in the ALCS. This where Kirby said goodbye, and we said goodbye to Kirby. And this is where, after the last game of the 2006 regular season, the most amazing regular season I've ever seen, I watched the Tigers lose and the Twins clinch the division.

But more than all those moments, the Dome was the ultimate home field advantage. We knew how to take advantage of it and everyone else had to deal. Even after so many years, you could always count on an opposing outfielder losing a ball in the roof several times a season. Back when the field was as hard as a rock, you could bet on the visitors playing bounces wrong. The Baggy in right is tricky is you don't know what you're doing. Add it all up and you get a home field advantage unmatched anywhere else in baseball. Sure, sometimes it cost us too (coughLewFordcough), but it always cost them more.

I'm psyched about the new stadium next year. While I worked downtown over the last year, I would take my lunch break and walk down and look at the progress at least once a week. From everything I've seen and heard, it's going to be fantastic. But it's going to take a while for it to be home. Talk to me after Mauer and Morneau have a couple of world championships under their belts.