One of things I noticed while trying to catch up and finish this year's Lentorama was that I seemed to be getting a pretty significant number of page views each day - for example, 40 today - which didn't quite jibe with the number of views on my most recent posts (for example, the last 10 days of Lentorama have, collectively, no views, but that's sort of expected). So what gives?

The answer, as it so often is on the web, is comment spam. And in the interest of turning a nusiance into entertainment, I'm going to share some of the more entertaining entries before deleting them. From a 2002 post about the design for the new building at the World Trade Center site, we get these gems:

Tremendous things here. I am very satisfied to see your article. Thank you so much and I'm taking a look ahead to touch you. Will you please drop me a e-mail?

I never did drop an email, which I guess is why this person never touched me. Probably for the best, it probably would have wound up as an episode of SVU.

This piece of writing gives clear idea in support of the new people of blogging, that in fact how to do running a blog.

I'm guessing my clever idea was the use of appropriate syntax and grammar.

Hi there! This is my first visit to your blog! We are a collection of volunteers and starting a new initiative in a community in the same niche. Your blog provided us valuable information to work on. You have done a extraordinary job! 

I'm guessing the volunteers are behind the linked website, By Extreme F^ck!ng (my edit). I am not sure how off the cuff architectural criticism gave them information to work on, but I assume it involves spires and tunnels.

My family every time say that I am killing my time here at net, except  I know I am getting experience all the time by reading such nice articles or reviews.

Listen to your family.

Have you ever thought about including a little bit more than just your articles? I mean, what you say is valuable and all. However think of if you added some great photos or video clips to give your posts more, "pop"! Your content is excellent but with pics and videos, this website could definitely be one of the greatest in its field. Good blog! 

I imagine my posts would "pop" if I included video and pictures from the linked site, collegeorg!es.0rg (also my edits). My posts would probably also make many other sounds as well.

Happy to see that it's an org site, because there's not enough non-profit porn in the world. These kids should get a medal from the UN.

you are actually a just right webmaster. The web site loading pace is amazing. It sort of feels that you are doing any unique trick. In addition, The contents are masterwork. you've performed a excellent activity in this topic! 

I will also find true love on Flag Day. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 40: sedes stercoraria

We end our 40 days of Catholic things with one of the more legendary items in papal history. The sedes stercoraria, or posterior chair, was said to be used to check the gender of newly-elected popes. The new pope would sit on the chair, and it would be someone's ticklish duty to make sure that the pope had the appropriate male parts. 

The only problem is that there's no record of this ever happening. The purpose for this chair is derived from the hole in the seat - whose actual purpose is unknown, as what existing chairs there are date from Roman times - and the Pope Joan legend, where a woman was purportedly elected pope and only discovered when she gave birth during a procession. Just as there is no record of newly-elected popes getting a ball check, there's also no historical record to confirm a female pope. The legend persists, to some extent because there's no proof (evidence of a Vatican coverup!).

I did stumble across one article that suggested that these chairs were used to verify if a man (not sure if it was a pope specifically or clergy in general) had been castrated. So maybe there's something to the testicle theory.

So there you go. Another Lentorama come and gone. Hope all three of you enjoyed.  

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 39: ferraiolo

You likely saw one of these during the recent papal election. It's a long cape, running from the shoulders to the ankles, bound by fabric strips tied around or near the neck. Color varies by rank, as with most vestments. They're typically non-ornamented and worn for formal, non-liturgical occasions.

The best-known wearer of one of these was Bishop Fulton Sheen, who always donned one during his TV appearances. I don't know if you can use the phrase "big pimpin'" in relation to Catholic vestments, but if you can, you'd probably use it for someone wearing one of these. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 38: ablaq

So between the Crusades and the Moorish invasion of Europe, there's a certain amount of Christian and Islamic intermingling, and ablaq would be an example of that. The term describes the use of alternating dark and light rows of stone or brick in religious buildings. Mosques had this as a regular feature for centuries before it started showing up in Christian buildings (the cathedral of Pisa is an example), and became a feature of Romanesque architecture.  

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 37: ambry

Also known as an almery or aumbrie, the ambry is a recess in a church wall, or a cabinet attached to a wall, where holy oils are kept. There were a number of specific rules about the ambry, related to keeping it locked, lining it with specific colors of cloth, and what sort of decoration would be on and around the ambry, but they've been relaxed in more recent times.  Oils can be kept and/or displayed in other ways, while the ambry can now also be used to store other implements.

On a side note, the name is related to the word armoire.

 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 36: chrism

Chrism is the oil used to anoint babies at baptism, teens at confirmation, and priests when they take holy orders. It's basically olive oil scented with a perfume or resin (balsam is apparently popular now, myrrh being the more traditional addition).

New batches of chrism are consecrated in a special mass celebrated by the local bishop on Holy Thursday. He apparently consecrates a large batch, with churches getting their supply from it.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 35: intinction

This is the practice of giving communion of bread and wine by dipping the bread into the wine. Not surprisingly, if you're Catholic you can only take communion this way by mouth. Can't have the blood of Christ on your hands. You also can't do the dunking yourself, while that's OK in some Protestant branches. This is apparently always an option when both bread and wine are available, though I've never seen it done. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 34: Red Mass

The Red Mass is an annual service aimed at seeking guidance for lawyers, law students, elected officials and anyone else whose work aims to serve justice. The color red references both the tongues of fire aimed at the apostles at Pentecost, as well as the traditional color of legal robes in the Middle Ages.

Of the various Red Masses celebrated currently, perhaps the best known one in the US is held in Washington before the start of a new Supreme Court term. Various mucky-mucks attend, including several Justices (Scalia probably gets a front-pew seat). In recent years some or all of the female members of the Court have given it a miss, objecting to anti-abortion sermons.

The oldest Red Mass in the US, held for over 100 years, takes place at the University of Detroit Mercy School of Law.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 33: cornette

This variety of the wimple was used by both religious and non-religious women starting in the Middle Ages, but eventually becoming the signature headgear of the Daughters of Charity.   Unlike the typical wimple, these were larger, folded versions that were starched to have pointy bits that look like horns.

If you've ever seen an episode of The Flying Nun, you've seen a cornette. It was the distinctive folds that allowed Sister Bertrille to take off.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 32: lipsanotheca

Sticking with reliquaries, this is the name for the box that actually holds the relics inside the larger box. Why it needs a name is an excellent question. I have nothing to add to this, other than to note that some examples of reliquaries may actually have been the box inside the box. Woo hoo. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 31: cumdach

A cumdach is a reliquary case for a book, usually one used by an Irish saint in the Middle Ages. They were usually created well after the book (the few remaining examples date around 1000, while the books tend to have dates up to 800). The front and back usually bear a cross design with complementary ornamentation. They were typically made of precious metals and studded with gems and other semi-precious stones. Not surprisingly, they were favorite targets of thieves, which explains why there are so few remaining.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 30: pall

So the partner to yesterday's corporal is the pall, a stiff card covered in white linen (and usually embroidered with a cross and/or other appropriate symbols) that's put over the chalice to keep things from falling in. Don't want any houseflies getting into the Blood of Christ.

There term pall is also used to describe the cloth that covers a casket during a funeral. These palls started as cloths similar to other vestments, then became black, and are now white with a large cross design. In either case, the term pall refers back to the burial shroud of Jesus, bringing everything back around with regards to the Eucharist. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 29: corporal

This is the cloth on which the various Eucharistic vessels are placed while communion is being prepared. Something like this has been in use since early times (there are mentions going back to the fourth century), and was required to be linen in reflection of Jesus's burial cloth (though there are examples of corporals in other materials, like silk or cloth of gold). It's gotten smaller over time, as communion moved from actual loaves of bread to wafers.

There were (and to some extent still are) a variety of rules about the corporal, from blessing it before each use to who can wash it and how, and how it was supposed to be stored. So for a simple white cloth, it's a pretty important piece of kit.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 28: zucchetto

Kind of a Catholic yarmulke (in style if not in practice), this skullcap can be worn by an member of the clergy, with various colors denoting a specific rank or honor (black is the basic color, but they can also be scarlet, violet, brown or white). The pope can wear any color, but typically wears the white one to match his vestments. They're worn under mitres and birettas, and can be worn with any vestments but not with a suit.

This is the hat that gave me the idea for this year's Lentorama, as I was interested in the similarity of this name and the zucchini. Turns out the zucchetto got its name from its similarity to a half a pumpkin, which makes me wonder why there isn't an orange one.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 27: triregnum

The mother of all papal headgear, this is the Latin name for the papal tiara or crown that was used in papal coronations until recent times. The details of how it went from one to two to three tiaras isn't clear, though there's some thought that the move from one to two represented the spiritual and temporal power of the pope when there were Papal States to rule. In any case, the crown tended to be beehive-shaped and made up of the usual combination of precious metals and jewels that you'd see in any royal crown.

John XXIII was the last to wear one in any regular way, and Paul VI was the last to have one used at his coronation. The coronation itself fell out of favor with the John Pauls, and Benedict XVI didn't even incorporate one into his personal coat of arms, opting for a mitre (as has Francis). While the tiara hasn't been banned, it seems unlikely to come back into favor any time soon, which is probably for the best.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 26: saturno

Also called a capello romano (Roman hat), this is a wide-brimmed hat similar in look to the galero, but without the braids and other frippery (though the pope's has gold braids). Unlike most vestments there's no liturgical history behind it. It's just a hat that clergy started to wear and occasionally still do. The pope's is scarlet, everyone else's is black. The saturno name comes from it looking like the planet Saturn (the crown being the planet and the brim a ring).  

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 25: mitre

The hat which gives rise to all the pointy hat jokes. They're only supposed to be worn by bishops and abbots, but the occasional non-bishoped cardinal is given dispensation to wear one as well, I suppose to fit in with his colleagues.

Eastern churches use a mitre that's derived from the crown of the Byzantine emperor, and thus is rounder and kind of bulbous (like the crown is enclosed in whatever material the mitre is made from). They're more ornate than Western mitres (at least the ones in use now, which have been moving away from the jewel-encrusted versions), and stand out quite a bit. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 24: galero

The galero is a wide-brimmed hat with large tassels hanging off the side, and up until Vatican II it was the hat given to newly-made cardinals as a symbol of office (after Vatican II it was the biretta, a more common hat that, as noted yesterday, is used by clergy at all levels). It was originally conferred by Innocent IV so he could pick out cardinals in a crowd.

While Vatican II did away with the galero, some cardinals continued to acquire them privately. There was also a tradition of hanging a cardinal's galero over their tomb until it decayed into nothing (a reminder of how we came from earth and will return to earth), which has subsided but not entirely gone away. At least one cardinal, Raymond Burke, has gone back to wearing the galero, which isn't surprising given how far things have shifted to the right since Vatican II. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 23: biretta

Another theme week, this time it's all about headgear. Today's topper is a square hat with three or four peaks or horns, often topped with a pom-pom. The color and ornamentation of the biretta changes based on position - cardinals wear a scarlet one with no pom-pom, bishops get one that's amaranth in color but with a purple pom-pom, while lower ranks typically wear black (and may or may not have a pom-pom, and that of a particular color, based on specific titles or positions).

The biretta apparently derives from academic headgear of the middle ages, and is still the appropriate hat for someone earning a doctorate from a pontifical university, in which case the color varies based on the subject of the degree. If nothing else, it's more interesting looking than a mortarboard.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 22: sedia gestatoria

This ceremonial throne was basically a large sedan chair, with the pope being carried aloft by a dozen footmen. Over time its use became more limited, going from a regular conveyance to use in ceremonial functions, but it didn't fall into disuse until John Paul II (John Paul I originally didn't want to ride in it, but Vatican staff talked him into it, the Curia strikes again). From JP2 forward we've traded this in for the Popemobile, which is win-win when you consider the pope gets a more modern vehicle and we get to use the term Popemobile.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 21: Ring of the Fisherman

Part of the papal regalia, this ring shows Peter fishing (a reference to both the first pope and the role of the Apostles as "fishers of men") and has the pope's name on it. It was used as a signet ring well into the 19th century, but is now strictly ornamental (and often not worn at all, though Benedict XVI wore his daily, which fits his sartorial theme of throwbacks).

Even though it's no longer used to seal official documents, the ring is still treated as an official symbol of office, leading to a ceremony upon the death (or now, resignation) of a pope where the ring is destroyed to ensure no one uses the ring for fraudulent purposes. That we've reached a point where fraud comes out of the Vatican on a regular basis without the need of a ring is another matter entirely.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 20: fanon

Another item that Benedict XVI decided to bring back, the fanon is circular cape-like thing with two layers (the top smaller than the bottom), with other vestments worn under or over the two layers (I won't even try to explain what goes where). It's white with gold stripes, and serves no real purpose that I can determine. Originally it could be worn by any priest, but by the Middle Ages is pope-only.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 19: camauro

The camauro is a winter hat worn by the pope, generally red with white ermine trim. And even for papal headgear, it's dopey looking. It's somehow related to academic headgear as something monks wore to make up for tonsure-related heat loss. It's apparently one of the many bits of papal clothing that Benedict XVI brought back from disuse, and for my money should be the first one the new guy puts in the back corner of the closet.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 18: umbraculum

The umbraculum is what it sounds like - an umbrella. In its first use it was used to provide shade for the pope, but over time became a symbol of both the pope's authority over the church and the pope's temporal role as a monarch (not surprisingly, that came about during the Borgia pope era). There was a time when the umbraculum had bells on it so people would know the pope was coming, which I kind of wish was still the case. 

Basilicas are presented with an umbraculum when elevated to that status, with the colors and fabric indicating if its a minor or major basilica.

Of particular interest now is that the Vatican coat of arms changes when there is no pope to feature an umbraculum with silver and gold keys. Check it out for yourself (note: the coat of arms will have changed back when a pope is elected, so act now!).

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 17: pope emeritus

So it's Pope Week here at Lentorama, every day this week we'll have items specific related to the Vicar of Rome. Today's entry is relatively new, given that there's not been a need for a specific term to describe a retired pope in 700 years or so.

I have to admit to being a little underwhelmed at the title. I was expecting something grander, or at least in Latin (really, would pontifex priscus have been so hard?).

I was also taken by the amount of coverage given to the retirement (or abdication if you want to consider the pope's role as ruler of Vatican City), or maybe just the sense that popes shouldn't retire. I can understand surprise - that a pope could retire seemed like the biggest surprise since people were reminded a couple of seasons ago that NFL games can end in a tie - but the pope is still human, and there's a refreshing sense of self-awareness that if one isn't up to the task, it's time to make way for someone who is (which isn't necessarily a jab at JP2, but rather support for the idea that the individual in the role should make the call to stay or go irrespective of tradition, etc.).

Anyway, more talk of papal stuff to come.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 16: paten

The paten can be one of two things, a rare case of double duty. It can be the shallow dish or bowl that holds hosts prior to consecration (and can be used by lay ministers to hold consecrated hosts for distribution during communion). It can also be the metal plate with handle attached that's thrust under the chin of those taking communion by mouth to catch the host if it falls or if part of the host doesn't make it into the person's mouth.

I had to operate the paten in my altar boy days (this was when communion by hand was just becoming popular), and I don't think I ever had to catch a host on it Which is a good thing, as my hand-eye coordination wasn't great.  

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 15: pyx

The pyx is a small, round container used to transport consecrated hosts to the sick or other people unable to go to mass. In some cases the pyx is put into a special case called a burse, which is made out of a fabric or leather and worn so that the pyx and the hosts inside do not get lost.

The term is also used to describe any small box or holder, and its name suggests that early models were made of boxwood (modern pyxes are made of metal, typically). The glass-walled insert that holds the host in a monstrance or other display can also be called a pyx, though you wouldn't cart it around to give communion.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 14: aspergillum

If you've ever seen a priest sprinkle holy water on parishoners using some sort of stick, you've seen the aspergillum in action. It's either a brush (which more closely represents the description of an aspergillum that appears in Leviticus) or a metal ball with small holes, which is dipped into a bowl of holy water (the bowl has its own name, too: aspersorium) and then shaken to get the water onto the people. Some of these have a sponge or other reservoir in them to capture more water.

Fun fact: this gave its name to the Aspergillus species of mold, as they were said to resemble the water shakers by the man (who was also a priest) who first recorded the mold's appearance.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 13: chasuble

This is the outermost garment worn by a priest during mass or other services. It's a longish covering that, in its most common form, covers the front and back of the wearer and runs almost to the ground, while the sides are more open, allowing for reasonably unrestricted arm movement.

There's apparently been some conflict over the shape and decoration of the chasuble over time, with earlier versions having more material on the sides that required draping to give the arms room to move, while a smaller version was in vogue for a while. Someone finally figured out early in the 20th century that, rather than banning the use of certain forms, the decision on what sort of chasuble to wear would be made locally. Which seems like a good idea for most of what the church does, if we're being honest.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 12: misericord

So back in the day there could be a lot of standing during services, between prayers, chanting, singing and the like. And if you were an older member of a monastery or other order, standing so much wasn't that easy. The stalls used for sitting had folding seats, so someone came up with the idea of putting a little shelf on the underside of the folding seat so there was somewhere to lean and get a little relief.

Misericords were also often carved to represent a religious figure or scene, giving them their own niche in religious art.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 11:  gremiale

This is pretty much an apron, which a bishop would have over their other vestments during certain points of a mass or during special occasions like distributing ashes on Ash Wednesday or anointing new priests when they take their orders. It really does just seem to be protection for the other vestments, and as such isn't blessed or held to have any specific meaning. They've been used since the Middle Ages, but there's not much known about their origin. I would half expect the church to have some 400 page treatise on them in a corner of the Vatican Library, though.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 10: mozzetta

The Catholic love of capes continues with the mozzetta, which is part of the choir dress set of vestments worn during a liturgical ceremony that isn't mass or by clergy attending a mass who aren't involved with preparing or distributing the Eucharist. The color of the mozzetta can denote rank (scarlet for cardinals, purple for bishops, etc.) or membership of a specific order.

The pope has five different mozzettas to choose from, four red and one white. Two ermine-lined ones were not used by John Paul II (one for winter and one for use during the Easter season). Benedict brought them back, though I have to say seeing the winter one I think it can go back into disuse. It's a little showy for a pope.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 9: Infirmarii

With a conclave coming up soon to elect the successor to Benedict XVI, we might as well throw some related terms into the mix. The Infirmarii are three cardinals selected before voting to get votes from cardinals who are too sick to leave their rooms to vote. All three apparently visit each cardinal who needs them, and they tally the votes collected to make sure that the number of votes match the number of cardinals visited. Infirmarii fulfill their role for only one morning or afternoon of voting (typically two sessions are held during each morning and afternoon of a conclave), and three new ones are picked before starting the next two sessions.

Can't find any information about how often the infirmarii have to collect votes, wonder if better health care and the age limit on voting eligibility has made an impact. Just have to wait for the Vatican Journal of Clerical Health article on the subject.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 8: piscina

The piscina is the basin used to wash the chalice and other eucharistic vessels after mass. The piscina is designed to return holy water and any bits of consecrated host directly to the ground rather than have them enter the sewer system, septic tank or the like. There's even a special name for the drain, the sacrarium, that feeds the washing water from the piscina to the ground.

The one thing that can't get washed down the piscina is consecrated wine. The priest or one of the lay eucharistic ministers has to polish that off. Washing wine down the drain can apparently get you excommunicated (though not hosts, though in the few times I've seen a priest have leftover hosts that couldn't be properly stored he just ate them).

The real question, though is can any old plumber work on the piscina, or is there a deacon or some Brothers of the Blessed Pipe Wrench who take care of things? 

 Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 7: burse

So there are a number of cloths that are used in relationship to the chalice, the vessel that holds the sacramental wine, and most have been used for centuries. One that you're not likely to see in practice anymore is the burse. The purpose of the burse was simple - it was the cloth that covered everything else. 

Not that it was a cloth like the others. It was actually two pieces of cardboard, bound together and covered with cloth so there was a hinge in the middle. It would then stand on its ends, with one side left open so the chalice and everything else could be slid under it.

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 6: flabellum

As originally used in pre-Christian and early Christian times, this was a simple fan used to keep insects away from things (in this case, the Eucharist). As time moved one, they were more often made of feathers (peacock and ostrich became common), and would later include covers like umbrellas or canopies used primarily to indicate high rank or status.

Their use in either context faded out by the early 20th century. Some Eastern Orthodox churches use a metal version in some instances. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 5: maniple

The maniple is a piece of cloth that hangs off the left wrist and is colored to go with the other vestments worn by the priest. Its practical use is kind of murky to me - most suggest it started out as a cloth the priest would use to wipe his face and hands, and somehow reminiscent of the cloth used to wipe Jesus' face before the crucifixion - and its use was not required after 1967. Its use wasn't outlawed, however, so many of the more conservative groups have started to wear it again during mass.

There's all sorts of detail about the maniple in the Catholic Encyclopedia, which I will not bother with here. Leave it to us Catholics to work up so much detail over a hankie. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 4: ambo

So in most churches you have a lectern (to your right as you face the altar), which is used for announcements, non-Gospel readings and the like. To your left is the pulpit, from where the priest will read the Gospel and give his sermon (though in our church the pulpit is used for almost everything, with the lectern mostly being used to announce hymn numbers).

But in some churches there's only a speaking area in the center of the front of the church. That's an ambo. They're apparently more common in Orthodox churches as a raised area of floor rather than an actual stand like a lectern. I have to say I don't think I've seen one in a Catholic church, but there's a picture of one in Wikipedia so we know it's possible. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 3: antependium

The antipendium is any cloth that hangs down the front of an altar, lectern or other stand/table. It can reach all the way to the floor or, in the case of an altar with a carved or painted front piece, it can just hang a few inches.

They can also be called paraments, or even just hangings. Which makes you wonder why they even bothered with the Latin name in the first place. 

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

Day 2: thurible

Odds are if you've seen at least one mass you've seen someone using a thurible. It's the metal case on a chain that's used to burn incense. Typically you'd see the priest swinging it around the altar while preparing the Eucharist. Not much to it, really; you put charcoal in the base, light it, and then dump the incense on top of it. I've lit one or two thuribles in the past, and it's pretty easy.

Not so easy is the five foot tall thurible used at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, Spain. Known as Botafumeiro, it's swung over the crowd Phantom of the Opera-style, and considering the pulley used to hoist the thing was built over 400 years ago, it's surprising that it doesn't go crashing into people more often than it does (which is apparently not often).

Going back to the hand-held model, there is apparently a name for the altar server who uses the thurible (thurifer) and for his assistant, who holds the container of incense while the thurifer scoops it out. That assistant's title? Boat boy (the boat being the vessel holding the incense). It would probably sound more dignified in Latin.

So Lent is upon us again, and while we may have a lame duck Pope, I won't leave you hanging. Remember that those of you who get to vote for the new Pope. Introducing our annual 40 day trip through the world of Holy Mother Church, Inc.:

Lentorama 2013: There's a Name for That

The Catholic church is full of items with specific names and functions that no one outside of the Curia would know or care about. Certainly enough to fill 40 days worth of posts, a fact that I didn't quite get until the last week of last year's posts. So if you ever saw something being used by a priest or when flipping by Catholic TV and wondered what the deal was, this may clear things up.

So let's ease into this with an item that's not even specifically Catholic.

Day 1: monstrance

A monstrance is a vessel or stand used to display relics, or more commonly, a consecrated host. The idea of the vessel is that you can see what's in it so you can reflect on it during individual prayer or during a service. The ones that carry a host tend to have metalwork in the shape of a sunburst with the host at the center, and can be quite ornate (shockingly). And while there are some philosophical differences regarding what the consecrated host represents, Anglican and Orthodox churches also use a monstrance to display the host.

For Catholics, you'll most often see a monstrance during Corpus Christi, a feast day celebrating the body and blood of Christ that often sees a procession with the host. The priest doesn't hold the monstrance with his bare hands, but instead does so using a humeral veil (look, you get a bonus thing for free!), a wide piece of cloth that's draped over the shoulders and down the chest and has pockets on the inside for the hands. And while I understand not touching the monstrance directly in respect of the Real Presence, it does make me wonder how you get the host out. I can't imagine opening the thing up while wearing a large, fancy oven mitt is easy. 

Word today that the International Olympic Committee, in their typical wisdom, has decided to jettison wrestling as of the 2020 Summer Games. They can petition to get back in, which several other sports are trying to do already (such as baseball and softball). The decision was made to "streamline" the Games, which is kind of a funny rationale given the recent inclusion of golf and rugby. It's also odd that they'd try to streamline things by taking out one of the sports contested in the original Olympics. So much for tradition.

There are better ways to fix things. In fact, I can think of five things, which brings us to:

MAKING IT BETTER: THE SUMMER OLYMPICS

1. Give the IOC a line item veto for events. Part of the problem currently is that the IOC can't adjust events, they can only add or drop an entire sport. So instead of cutting down on the number of weight classes or something, they have to drop the entire thing. I'm sure there's some sort of political reason for this between the IOC and the governing bodies of each sport, but having the ability to cut some events rather than an entire sport makes more sense. Some humble suggestions:

• Race walking
• Trampoline
• Synchronized diving
• Duet synchronized swimming
• At least one weight class in men's weightlifting and boxing.

Granted, this would be an annual bloodbath, but at least it would give the IOC more flexibility and more opportunity to do what it does best: behind the scenes politicking and bribery.

2. Get rid of tennis and golf. I'm assuming that their inclusion in the Games is an attempt to draw some star power, as you can wedge the Olympics into the schedule every four years in a way that you can't with, say, baseball. Still, it hasn't worked quite so well for tennis, which has drawn some big names but seems to be just below Davis/Fed Cup in terms of excitement for players. I can't imagine this will work any better for golf, though maybe there's a groundswell of interest in it as we get closer. Still, neither has much Olympic pedigree and fans can just tune into any of the dozens of events that normally dot the tennis and golf calendar to see their favorites.

3. Move some stuff to winter. Rather than cut stuff entirely, let's load level and push some stuff that doesn't need to be held in the summer on to the Winter Games. Wrestling would work here, as would weightlifting, fencing, badminton, table tennis, volleyball (with beach staying in the summer, of course), judo, taekwondo, and shooting.

4. Use the LIFO method if you have to cut. If you have to cut something from the program, using a "last in, first out" method causes the least disruption, certainly in tradition if not in practice. The IOC would not be getting the negative reaction they're getting if they dropped taekwondo,which was only added as an official sport in 2000. Well, except from South Korea, who would likely take it personally.

5. Go for the one or two nation dominated sports first. Like any sport, wrestling has its dominant nations, but if you look at the 2012 results you see a pretty diverse group of countries. Russia won the most, but the top 10 includes countries like Uzbekistan, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Hungary. Compare this to table tennis, which saw half of all medals go to China. In fact, half of all medals in the history of table tennis have gone to China.

Not that table tennis would get bumped, because who wants to piss off China? But the point remains, if half of your medals go to one or two countries, maybe you shouldn't be an Olympic sport quite yet. It's the same logic (sort of, and only in part with respect to baseball) that saw baseball and softball dropped.

Book Log 2012 #43: The Lincoln Letter by William Martin

The fifth book featuring antiquarian/treasure hunter Peter Fallon, this is probably the best of the more overtly political books in the series. Fallon, along with some neo-Confederates, a billionaire etailer, and a handful of Lincoln scholars and biographers, is looking for a lost Lincoln diary, whose contents are hoped will influence any number of issues, current and historical. The story of his search is intertwined with that of a Union officer who comes into possession of the diary in 1862, loses it, and spends the rest of the book trying to get it out of the hands of Copperheads, Southern sympathizers, and those who would use it for self-promotion.

The historical story is the better of the two, which makes me think this may have been a better book if set completely in the past, like Citizen Washington. The modern storyline has all of the typical Fallon touches - brushes with danger, dragging girlfriend Evangeline Carrington into the mix, etc. - but comes to a head somewhat perfunctorily. The politics of the modern story don't clog things up too much (a blend of state's rights and the potential introduction of a VAT), adding just enough to the plot to explain the presence of the various antagonists.

Not a bad book in the whole, but I would really like it if in his next adventure Fallon came home to Boston to find the original Sacred Cod or something.

Book Log 2012 #42: Red Gold by Alan Furst

In 1941 occupied Paris, the Soviet Union has instructed communists to do whatever they can to strike at the Nazi regime, which has abrogated its non-aggression pact and is rolling tanks towards Moscow. The communists in Paris are looking for a way to get arms and other materiel to strike at the Germans. The French resistance (and government in exile) is looking to cause trouble but not necessarily put their own people at danger. In the middle is former film producer Jean Casson, who escaped Gestapo captivity and now is looking to survive and perhaps do something to help France (and his new love interest, a travel agency worker of Jewish descent).

Not surprisingly, there are many similarities between this book and the other Furst novels in this loose series about men who operate in the shadows of war. There's a similar desperation, a decision between acting out of self-interest and acting in the interest of a greater cause, and the tension of living in a place and time where war may not be present but colors every moment.

Casson is apparently also the main character of The World at Night, which is set before this novel. From the blurb it probably makes sense to read that book before this one.

Book Log 2012 #41: Dream Team by Jack McCallum

I liked this book quite a bit, and I think anyone who remembers the Dream Team - or who likes basketball and wants more of the story about this turning point in international play - will like it quite a bit as well. That being said, I do have three quibbles.

1. There's not enough about the actual Olympics. I suppose the thinking is that we know more about that than the other stuff, so focus on the creation of the team. But I'd have liked more inside stuff about the actual games and competition. I suppose that may be hard to come by given how lopsided the games were and that head coach Chuck Daly passed away a few years back.

2. Can we please stop making the pop culture asides in sports books now, please? I don't know if they're there to provide some sort of time reference to readers or if it's the Bill Simmons effect that now makes every sports writer throw in references regardless if they actually mean anything to the subject matter. Either way, please stop wasting space on this. It's not necessary.

3. There were a few times in the book where I felt like McCallum was a little too chummy, and the narrative veered more towards him than the team. That's probably an occupational hazard given his role in covering basketball and this team specifically.

Anyway, none of these issues are big enough (separately or as a group) to not recommend the book.

Book Log 2012 #40: The Technologists by Matthew Pearl

Pearl stays in the 19th century but leaves the authors behind in his latest book, which sees a group of students at the newly formed Massachusetts Institute of Technology fight the Harvard snobs (who look down at the school for its practical approach and enrollment of both charity scholars and a woman) and anti-science locals (particularly trade unionists) to investigate a number of incidents in Boston where someone has used scientific principles to create chaos. As the severity of these incidents increases, the group risks losing the school (and their lives) to find the culprit and keep MIT afloat.

Most of the characters in the book are historical figures, even the students who are part of the investigating group (many of whom went on to become MIT faculty). I found looking into their actual lives as interesting as the book itself, an inspiration that doesn't always spring from historical fiction. I did find some of the twists at the end irritating, but I don't know if it's because I felt they were unnecessary or if I just wanted to find out who was behind things.

Certainly worth a read.

Book Log 2012 #39: The Nightmare by Lars Kepler

I didn't care so much for Kepler's debut novel, The Hypnotist, and dithered on picking up this second novel, but am glad I did. In this installment, the focus is much more on police detective Joona Lind, which is to the book's benefit. We get to know him better, which makes his skill at detecting more tangible. In the last book he was this bull-headed cop who seemed to put things together out of thing air, while in this one his process is clearer (though he does still seem to generate some correct theories out of thin air).

I also found the plot of this book more plausible - a number of deaths, all connected by international arms dealing - which helped suspend disbelief where needed. Here's hoping the third book (coming to the States this summer) follows the trend.

With the last hours of 2012 slipping away, it's time to wrap up the Book Log (expect another 4 or 5 posts for that before the day is out) and, for the first time ever, name a Blogalicious Person of the Year. And for 2012, that person is Nate Silver of FiveThirtyEight.com.

This honor isn't as much for his election forecasts - which were accurate and well-reasoned, to be sure - but for how his work underscored what should be obvious: political punditry is a nearly useless practice. You didn't have to look far to find examples, from the online pipe dreams of Dick Morris and the ironically named Unskewed Polls to Karl Rove's adventures in math on election night. It was a sight to behold, as a entire class of otherwise educated people demonstrated that they had no working understanding of math.

(Note that I don't mean to exclude left-leaning pundits here. They bloviate just as much as their conservative counterparts, but had the numbers on their side this time around and thus weren't as obviously trapped in their ideological bubble.)

My hope is that Nate's ability to show how a rational approach to poll data can inform the average person will get everyone to take two steps away from their partisan watering hole of choice and actually try to understand how the candidates, their positions and the polls all interact. That looks unlikely, but it's my hope for 2013.

Book Log 2012 #38: The Last Camel Charge by Forrest Bryant Johnson

This book pledges to tell us the "untold story" of the US military's experiment of using camels in the southwestern deserts, and based on this book it looks like that story actually doesn't include camels for significant periods of time. There are lengthy stretches about the Mormon settlement of Utah territory and the ensuing conflict with the federal government, and other parts covering the troubled history of natives and the new Americans during westward expansion. But no camels, save for the occasional mention that tries to tie the sections together.

Not that camels are completely missing, but rather that for a book about them I found it odd that they'd go missing so often. I felt like this was a book more often about expansion and the conflicts with manifest destiny than how camels got to the US and into the military. I wonder if there was a concern that a book more sharply focused on camels would be too specific to appeal to a general audience. Or maybe the untold story of the camels wasn't interesting enough. There seems to be plenty of primary source material to build a book on, but if the camels didn't do much more than haul freight and make one charge against some Mojaves the resulting narrative may have been too dull.

It's not a badly written book - though occasionally too melodramatic and oddly fond of using quote marks to bracket off words or phrases that probably don't need them - but it's not the book I expected or wanted. Maybe I just need to see if I can find Hawmps! on Netflix.

Book Log 2012 #37: The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

I finally broke down and read this first book in the trilogy (it helped that it was shelved with the adult books, as I wasn't going to venture into the young adult room to get it). And I can see why the book (and series) became so popular. It's a good story featuring a strong protagonist in a dangerous setting.

That being said, it's much clearer that this is a book intended for tweens and teens than, say, the Harry Potter series. There's less depth to everything in this book than in even the first Potter book, which in some cases is unfortunate (I'd love to hear more about how Panem and the Games came to be, and get more background on the supporting characters, though I suppose that may come in the other books) but also understandable in places (it's more realistic, I think, that a teen forced to fight to the death would have a more practical reaction to all the death).

Not that I think that this series should be compared to Harry Potter. It's just the best frame of reference for these sorts of books I have. By the same token, for all of the killing in this book, the body count isn't all that much higher than your average Potter book. It's just more gruesome.

I do plan on reading the rest of the trilogy. Just as soon as the books wind up in the adult section.

Book Log 2012 #36: Taco USA by Gustavo Arellano

Another entry in the "how an ethnic food became American food" genre, this time for Mexican food. I didn't like it as much as I liked The Fortune Cookie Chronicles, but it's not far off. It's a good mix of the historical with the sociological, as it looks to explain both how the food got here and how it became so popular with non-Mexicans. It also goes beyond the well-known stories (like how nachos were invented) to highlight aspects of Mexican food like the tamale men who were popular in early 20th century America, the women who made Mexican a popular street food in San Antonio, and some of the restaurants and entrepreneurs who put Mexican on the map.

Enjoyed it quite a bit, even if it left me wanting chips and salsa all the time.

Book Log 2012 #35: Fordlandia by Greg Grandin

Henry Ford, entering his later years and looking for new ways to keep Ford at the pinnacle of automotive success, hit upon a way to keep Ford from being beholden to tire companies and the rubber trade. He authorized the building of a rubber plantation in a remote section of Brazil, and the construction of a town to support the plantation and help bring civilization to the Amazon. It didn't work, as documented in this book.

The history of the Fordlandia settlement is given in great detail, from the idea that sparked it to the often shady way Ford got into Brazil to the myriad ways that the plantation and town were created that guaranteed failure (it's a bad sign when, to start, you don't hire anyone to work the plantation who knows anything about rubber trees). We also get good background into Ford's mindset and how he believed he could apply his systems to bend the natural world to his will. We also get some interesting insight as to the operation of Ford and the long-running personal battle between Ford and his son Edsel.

Enjoyed it quite a bit, and would recommend it to anyone with an interest in Ford (the man or the company) or the Americas in the early 20th century.

Book Log 2012 #34: Those Guys Have All the Fun by James Andrew Miller and Tom Shales

Miller and Shales were behind Live From New York, the oral history of Saturday Night Live, and on the success of that book came up with this one, an oral history of ESPN. It's a natural subject, given how its become this cultural behemoth that crosses the lines of sports, journalism, entertainment and celebrity. But I don't think this book is nearly as successful as its predecessor, for two reasons.

First, for all of the photos of ESPN talent and sports stars on the cover, the book draws heavily from the executive ranks. It's not that what they contribute isn't interesting - it often is, especially on the early days of the network and the reign of Mark Shapiro - but there are times where one would like to hear more from someone who was in front of the camera. Most of these executives also seem to be the type of person I wouldn't trust as far as I can throw them, but I suppose that's TV for you.

The other problem is that, given the book's title, it's often hard to feel like these folks were having any fun. Almost everyone says they love(d) it there, but with the long hours, low pay and often difficult working environment (especially for women), I wonder how much nostalgia and time have smoothed over the day to day annoyances.

The book itself was a little uneven for me, as all of the interesting bits were bogged down by the ongoing saga of the boardroom and the often clunky transitions between subjects. One thing I did appreciate is that the book did give me what I think is a reasonably good idea of how ESPN transitioned from plucky little cable station to Worldwide Leader in Sports (for all the good and ill that entails). I'll also admit to not having read the last 100 pages or so, as at that point it was entering the period where I'd stopped watching ESPN for anything other than live sports, so the people and events they were talking about weren't familiar and, honestly, not that interesting.

I'd suggest reading Live From New York over this. I'd also suggest reading Miller's book Running in Place before this one. It's a book about the US Senate based on his time as a staffer for Howard Baker, so it's a bit of a historical piece at this point but well done from what I can recall.

Book Log 2012 #33: 2312 by Kim Stanley Robinson

At some point in the 300 years between this book's publication and its titular year, humankind has spread itself across the solar system, from glassed-in communities on Mercury to small, frigid settlements on Pluto and just about everything in between. But all isn't what it's cracked up to be, as there seems to be a plot to disrupt this spread - now focusing on terraforming Venus - that may be led by a new consciousness rising from an unexpected source.

There's a lot to like about this book, in its sweeping vision of a potential future and in its detailed approach to portraying how humans may best adapt to life in a developed cosmos (you may want to prepare yourself for having some additional body parts, for one thing). Some of the text outside of the main narrative (a fragmentary history of the solar system and the disjointed memories of someone or something) can be challenging, as it's not always clear how it's adding to the story, but this tends to work itself out.

My main concern with the novel is the ending, which is abrupt and wraps things up a little too neatly for what came before it. The ending leaves me wondering if this was going to be part of trilogy and, for whatever reason, it was decided to go with one long book instead.

I don't read a lot of straight science fiction, not sure that this book will goad me to read more, but on the balance I feel more positive about it than negative.

Book Log 2012 #32: The Stranger's Child by Alan Hollinghurst

In 1913, George Sawle brings a friend from Cambridge home for a visit. That friend, Cecil Valance, would memorialize that visit in a poem that would become famous after Valance dies in World War I. And while generations grow up learning this poem, there's an underlying mystery to it - is the romantic relationship in the poem a reference to George's sister, or is it in reference to George himself? The legacy of the poem, and the lives of George and his sister, Daphne, spin out over the rest of the novel, which is set in five sections spanning 1913 to 2008.

To be honest, the mystery of the poem is overstated, even in the paragraph above. I don't think there's much of a mystery for the reader to sort out, so it's more looking to see how, over time, people touched by the poem and by its possible subjects remember Valance and his work. There are other major themes as well - the changing fortunes of aristocrats and the rich, the way age and time plays havoc with memory, and perhaps most notably the radical changes in what it meant to be gay in Britain during the 20th and early 21st centuries.

What didn't work so well for Solar works better here, I think because the time jumps are large enough that the author just had to pick things up anew without trying to explain what happened in the intervening years. Enough of those details come to light during the course of the section to fill in the reader but not overwhelm.

It's not the easiest read for a commute - it requires more time to read and reflect - and may occasionally be too knowingly literary - but I wound up liking it more than I expected.

Book Log 2012 #31: Solar by Ian McEwen

Michael Beard is a Nobel Prize-winning physicist who is past his prime. He's been coasting on his award, and has landed at an organization trying to find a way to prevent climate change. He's cynical about their chances at success - really, he's cynical about everything - and his disagreeable nature infects all aspects of his life. Beard is pretty much going to run out the clock - until a chance encounter with another scientist from his organization changes his life. This novel chronicles the decade of his life following the encounter, as seen in three periods over that span.


I can't say I was a huge fan of the book. I didn't hate it, but it felt uneven to me. It might have been the broken chronology, which required enough exposition that the book may as well have been written in straight chronological order. There's also a portion of the book where Beard goes on a trip to the Arctic, which is based on a trip that McEwen took. I can see why he'd want to use the trip in his work, but I don't know if it really fit this story.

Not sure if it's worth a look or not. It doesn't make me want to run out and read more of McEwen's stuff, but it doesn't make me want to avoid him altogether.

Book Log 2012 #30: Holmes on the Range by Steve Hockensmith

I'd heard of this book well before reading it, but knew little enough about it to think it was actually the relocation of Holmes and Watson to the American west. And, eventually, learned that it wasn't. Instead, we have a cowboy who, having read some Holmes stories, believes he can use the same deductive reasoning to solve actual mysteries. Such as why a local ranch has hired a large crew well past the point in the year where they'd need one. And, in the course of trying to sort this out, other mysteries - including a couple of murders - arise to complicate the original mystery.

I enjoyed this book quite a bit. I think the Holmes-Watson relationship was translated well into a western setting, both in how a cowboy detective would be received by his peers and in making the pair brothers, which I think gives them a stronger bond.

I'll be seeking out the second book in the series.

You've likely heard that the New Orleans NBA franchise is planning to change its nickname from Hornets to Pelicans. Some have mocked the new name, but there's one spirited defense that makes me doubt I'll ever go bird watching in the bayou. There's additional talk that the Carolina Bobcats will reclaim the Hornets name, which makes a certain amount of sense.

Personally, I'd prefer to see New Orleans trade the Hornets name to Utah. The New Orleans Jazz would ride again, and the Utah Hornets makes a bit of a call out to the honeybee, the Utah state insect and Mormon symbol.

In any case, this got me thinking of what other teams could use a name change.

MLB: the most obvious case here is the Washington Nationals, a name whose generic quality underscored the whole ridiculous process that brought the team down from Montreal. I can understand why they didn't want to revive the Senators name - and if you don't, check out the pre-1960 seasons listed for the Minnesota Twins - but there are other options. Ambassadors, Diplomats. Monuments. Capitols (or even Capitals, it's not like that name's getting a lot of use right now).

My second option here is the Cleveland Indians, which I would roll back to Spiders. 

NFL: And with the Indians in mind, my suggestion here would be the Washington Redskins. I don't mean to pile on the District, but of the few Native American nicknames that still persist in pro sports, this one's the most egregious.

But rather than go with Warriors or something, I'd go with a tribal name - the Powhatans. Their territory covered Maryland and Virginia, and there are state recognized tribes today that trace back to the Powhatans. Cut a deal, change the logo (but keep the colors, I have a fondness for the unis), make the change.

For those not looking to tackle racial and ethnic issues, I'd suggest a name change for the Carolina Panthers, a snoozer of a nickname.

NBA: The New Orleans name change is not the most needed change in the league. The team that most needs a change is the Toronto Raptors, an example of why you don't name your team after something appearing in a currently popular movie. That sort of synergy only goes so far.

Reviving the Huskies name (from Toronto's brief 1940s stint in the BAA) would have made more sense. Even if you were going for something ferocious or dangerous, Dragons or Scorpions (both suggested) would have been better. Really almost any of the other nine names that made it to the final cut would have been better than Raptors (the only one that wouldn't be an improvement was T-Rex, for obvious reasons). So let's just go with Dragons and work out a deal to mimic the Barcelona Dragons kit, which was the best thing to come out of the World League of American Football.

NHL: If we ever have professional hockey again, I would hope to have it without the Minnesota Wild, a nickname that has never made any sense to me. I get that Minnesota has all those lakes and trees and such, but I don't think that it translated well into a nickname. Or at least this nickname.

The other finalists weren't much better (I suppose Voyageurs was the best of the lot), so I'm not sure what to go with here. North Stars was pretty much perfect, so I suppose I'd suggest some sort of name trade with Dallas, who could then don whatever bovine-related nickname would work best with Cowboys and Mavericks.

The other option here, of course, is the Chicago Blackhawks.

MLS: The truly awful names of Major League Soccer are thankfully gone (though I don't know if FC Dallas and Sporting Kansas City are huge improvements over the Burn and Wiz[ards]). So while I don't particularly dislike any of the names, the one I'd tab to change is the Columbus Crew. It's not awful, but it's kind of goofy (as is their logo of guys wearing hardhats).

If they're looking to honor workers in heavy industry, well, I don't know what to go with that's not Steelers. Suggestions welcome.

No second option, none of the other names really bother me.

NCAA: I'm not suggesting a specific school to change, but am rather suggesting the retirement of a nickname: Wildcats. How lazy is that as a nickname? It's not like we have teams called the Fish or the Mammals. Even the Greendale Community College Human Beings use a specific primate. It's a nickname for a school that either can't be bothered to go with something overused and specific, like Bulldogs or something.

The closest NCAA division 1 school to me that uses that name is the University of New Hampshire, and given the lack of athletic distinction in Durham (they didn't get their University of No Hardware nickname from their smashing successes), Wildcats almost works for them. They also have the problem that they have a native feline - the Fisher Cat - but that's being used by a minor league baseball team (which should have been called the New Hampshire Primaries, but that's another issue).

I looked up the official New Hampshire state symbols to find a new nickname, and it's not helping. The state bird is a finch. The state insect is the ladybug. There are really only two options if we go this route: Bucks (the white-tailed deer is the state animal) or Granite (state rock). I don't rend to like non-plural nickname, but I do think the UNH Granite has a certain ring to it.

Book Log 2012 #29: Making History by Stephen Fry

A middling graduate student and an aging physicist come together by chance(?) and concoct a plan to change history in one of the most predictable ways - prevent Adolph Hitler from being born. And as you might expect things do not go as planned.

I don't know what I was expecting from the book; Fry is well known as a comedic actor, so it would be natural to think that this would be a sci-fi comedy, but the comedic aspects of the book, while evident, aren't the focus. But there's enough comedy in the book that it doesn't read as it would if written in a typical alt-history style. The extent to which this works is probably very dependent on the individual reader. I thought it worked OK, not perfectly but enough to keep me reading.

Book Log 2012 #28: The Fatal Touch by Conor Fitzgerald

The return of Commissario Alec Blume has him investigating a murder that may have connections to a spate of recent muggings and the world of art forgery. He also has to balance his investigation with the wishes of the carabinieri, who are trying to take over (and perhaps stall) the murder case.

I did like the book, probably not as much as the first book in the series, but well enough. I don't recall anything I specifically liked or disliked (having read this months ago and only getting to logging it now). Seeing that there's a third book out now, and a fourth coming in 2013, does pique my interest, so I suppose that's a vote in favor of this book as well.

Book Log 2012 #27: We All Fall Down by Michael Harvey

This installment in the Michael Kelly series pick up where The Third Rail left off, as one of the light bulbs full of a deadly pathogen finally falls and breaks, releasing its contents in the Chicago subway. As the bodies start to mount, Kelly has to juggle finding the perpetrator of this crime with a mayor who wants to downplay things to protect his own image and power and a collection of feds who worry about the security implications.

I was concerned after reading The Third Rail that pursuing this story would water down the Chicago-centric aspects and make the series less enjoyable. There was still plenty of Chicago color, and Kelly continues to hold his own as a character, but I'm still a little worried that if he (and the series) continues to move in circles with the feds that the series will change in a negative way. But we're not quite there yet, thankfully.

Book Log 2012 #25 and #26: Prophecy and Sacrilege by S. J. Parris

The second and third books in the series of mysteries featuring Giordano Bruno, both involve plots to overthrow Queen Elizabeth I that become entwined with murders that Bruno is called upon to investigate.

In Prophecy, a girl at court is found dead, and with symbols carved into her that suggests an occult connection. Bruno is called in to see if that connection exists, and in turn discovers a link to a potential invasion by the European Catholic powers. The case also imperils Bruno's friend John Dee, whose occult leanings make Bruno's work that much more difficult.

Sacrilege moves the action to Canterbury, where the killing of a prominent citizen reintroduces Sophia Underhill, Bruno's love interest from the first novel. Bruno goes undercover to help her, and gets entangled with locals who want to use the local saint, Thomas Beckett, to launch a revolution.

Both books are of the same quality of the first, and are highly enjoyable. They're a good mix of the specific case and continuing plot points (the return of Sophia, Bruno's relationship with his patron, Sir Philip Sidney, and spymaster Walsingham). Looking forward to the next installment.

Book Log 2012 #24: The Prague Cemetery by Umberto Eco

The Protocols of the Elders of Zion is, perhaps, the most famous literary forgery in the world. Based on selections from 19th century fiction and first published in Russia at the start of the 20th century, its ultimate origin is unkown. In this novel, Eco introduces us to its original (and fictional) author, an Italian anti-Semite whose work as an intelligence agent and forger goes wrong during the wars of Italian unification, resulting in an exile in Paris, where he eventually works his way back into both professions.

Most of the book focuses on reminiscences written by the character after he's been robbed. The writings are an attempt to remember what happened, and are often interspersed with the writings of a mysterious French cleric who has strikingly good knowledge of the man and his life.

Eco said in writing the book he was trying to make the main character the most cynical and descpicable character in all of literature, and it was a pretty good attempt. The character has no great love for anyone, has no loyalties outside of himself, and gets into intelligence mainly as a way to make more money than from forging alone. The rest of the characters in the book are real-life figures, though it's unclear to me how much these characters deviate from their actual lives (I assume as much as to allow for the main character to operate, at least).

I liked the book, I think. I often find myself feeling like I don't get everything that Eco packs into his novels, either from not reading closely enough (he's not exactly light reading for the commute) or from not being as familiar with the historical background of the books as I could be. It's certainly more accessible than his more recent novels.

Book Log 2012 #23: Death of Kings by Bernard Cornwell

The latest book in the series featuring Uthred of Bebbanberg, the Saxon-born but Danish-raised warrior whose quest to regain his home is continuously delayed by his loyalty to Alfred, king of the combined Anglo-Saxon lands.

As you might guess from the title, there's a kingly death that leads to a struggle for the crown that also involves the greatest Danish excursion yet into Anglo-Saxon territory. Uthred's loyalties are tested yet again, as is his place among the Saxons when the vacuum in leadership opens up after Alfred's death.

As solid a book as any other in the series, though I do find myself longing for the book where we finally see Uthred get back his home, just to see how he'll do it and what sort of carnage results.

Book Log 2012 #22: The Impossible Dead by Ian Rankin

The second book featuring internal affairs cop Malcolm Fox, this one sees his team called to investigate an officer accused of trading sex for leniency with the local prostitutes. It seems like a straightforward case until the cop's uncle - who ratted his nephew out in the first place - winds up dead. And when it's discovered that the uncle was investigating a crime from the 1980s involving Scottish nationalists, things get more complicated in a hurry.

I've not read enough of the Rebus books to feel strongly about Rankin starting a new series, but I've enjoyed both of these books enough to not worry about it too much. You don't need to have read the first book (The Complaints) to understand this one, but it wouldn't hurt to read them in order.

Book Log 2012 #21: Death in the City of Light by David King

In the waning years of World War II, a startling discovery is made at a property of a Parisian doctor: a basement full of bones, a stove burning body parts, and a mysterious triangular room. As the hunt for the doctor and the investigation of his activities continue, more questions are raised. Is he working for the Resistance? The Gestapo? Or only for himself, getting rich off of the promises to smuggle people out of France? All of this is covered in great detail in this book, which benefits greatly from the author's ability to peruse records from the period that had been classified for decades.

As is often the case, what happens after the doctor is caught is at least as interesting as his pursuit. The growing monstrosity of his deeds continues to build, only to come to a bizarre end at his trial, which demonstrates how the legal peculiarities of the time could dramatically alter a case.

The book also gives a good glimpse into an occupied Paris that had both become familiar with life under the Nazis, and how the occupation only served to further confuse the possible motivations of the killer.

Well worth a read.

Book Log 2012 #20: The Limit by Michael Cannell

The US has never shown a tremendous amount of interest in Formula 1 auto racing. The Indy 500 and NASCAR have dominated US motor sports in popular coverage, and few American drivers have even driven in F1. Which makes it all the more interesting that the first US F1 champion, Phil Hill, claimed his title in 1961. How he got to that point, and his battle to take that title, is the focus of this book.

Well, one focus of this book. The other is the constant specter of death than hung over F1 (and auto racing in general) in the mid-20th century, when races on dangerous (and often ill-planned or maintained) courses coupled with a lack of safety equipment or awareness led to regular fatalities among drivers and spectators alike. The body count in this book staggers belief, especially given how rare (and traumatic) it is today when a driver dies in competition. But the drivers at the time accepted it as a risk of their profession/mania.

Hill had a very specific mania for fast cars, fostered in the California car culture but relocated to Europe early, where he would work as a driver and/or mechanic for Jaguar and Ferrari. His adversary in the 1961 title chase was teammate Wolfgang von Trips, who raced in defiance of his parents, part of the German nobility.

Cannell wrote this book not as a racing fan - he admits to having never seen a race - but as a journalist, which helps him avoid the favoritism that often infects sports writing. It's accessible for anyone interested in auto racing but not familiar with F1. There may be some quibble with Cannell's lack of personal knowledge or his detached approach to writing the book, but I think it gives him enough remove to write the book as he did. It worked for me, at least.

Book Log 2012 #19: The Impeachment of Abraham Lincoln by Stephen Carter

This stop on what appears to be a year-long pop culture tour of Abraham Lincoln sees the Railsplitter survive his assassination attempt, only to be subject to an impeachment trial where the charges against the President obscure the real motive of getting the Speaker of the House into the top job (Andrew Johnson having been a casualty of the conspiracy).

The book mostly involves two junior clerks of the law firm defending the president, one born into a Boston industrial family who may acting behind the scenes to get Lincoln convicted, the other an African-American woman hired by a partner who has gone conspicuously missing (the other partner immediately puts her on housekeeping duties). The pair become involved in trying to uncover the conspiracy against the President, which involves information from a spy carried over from the Civil War and Kate Chase, the daughter of Salmon P. Chase who is trying to clear the way for dad to become President down the line.

Our intrepid heroes also develop a personal relationship, difficult given their different races and prior engagements. It's handled well, adding just the right amount of complication to an already complicated situation.

After the disappointment of Jericho Falls, I was very happy to see Carter return to the themes of race, law and power that have run through his other novels. And while it was a gentle dip into the waters of alternative history (I mean, there was no time travel or cloned dinosaurs or anything), it was successfully done, drawing a sharp portrait of the political conflicts of the era.

Very much recommended, but not for purchase through Apple's bookstore. I purchased it this way, and had to delete and re-download the book five or six times where the book repeated one page several times and then moved on to the next chapter. Reloading restored the missing pages, but was highly annoying. Good thing I didn't read this book while on vacation as planned, as a lack of Internet access would have stranded me mid-read.

With just under a week to go until election day, it's time to hand out some endorsements. As in the past, we're only dealing with what's on the ballot here in MA (and in my district specifically). Let's start with...

Ballot Questions

Question 1: The first question is about the "right to repair," and would require automakers to share proprietary information with independent repair shops, thus allowing them to fix things that currently require a trip to a dealership. The question's a moot point now, as the legislature passed a bill at the end of the last session that was basically a negotiated settlement between both sides. There's a fear that approving this question will screw up the new law, but as the legislature sees free to not act on ballot questions (we're still owed that lower tax rate we voted for back in the day), I'm not so concerned. But I do figure that it doesn't make sense to vote in favor of a question whose issue has apparently been addressed. Blogalicious endorses a NO vote on Question 1.


Question 2: This question seeks approval for legalized physician assisted suicide. I'm not a fan of some of the particulars of how this would be carried out - heirs can witness both the decision and death, the doctor does not need to be present when the death occurs, and the determination of terminal illness/six months to live is inherently problematic - so I'm going to pass.  Blogalicious endorses a NO vote on Question 2.

Question 3: This question would legalize medical marijuana. Outside of all the usual wailing and gnashing of teeth about drugs being bad, the thing that gives me pause about this question is the involvement of the state Department of Public Health. Given the recent DPH chemist scandal, I'm not sure I trust them right now to administer a statewide program of pot dispensation and individual cultivation. We decriminalized possession in 2010, and while it still makes getting pot difficult, I don't know if this law is the best next step. I'd rather have the Department of Revenue be in charge, if only to smooth things over for the legalize-and-tax system that'd be on the ballot in, say, 2018.
Blogalicious endorses a NO vote on Question 3.


Public Offices

State Representative: the incumbent is running unopposed, so Blogalicious endorses writing someone in. Preferably me.

State Senator: Fred Berry retired, leaving Democrat Joan Lovely to square off against Republican Richard Jolitz. Both seem to hold positions typical of their party - Jolitz seems more conservative than the average Massachusetts Republican - but there's been sufficiently little coverage of the race to really get a lot of background. Jolitz doesn't seem to have a campaign website, opting to use social media as his main conduit for communications. The top hit for the Google search "jolitz state senate" is an article from when he ran in 2010. Based on the ability to at least learn what each candidate stands for, Blogalicious endorses Joan Lovely.

Governor's Council: I'm not even going to bother, because (a) no one knows who's running without looking it up, and (b) the Governor's Council is archaic and should be disbanded. Blogalicious endorses writing someone in here, too. Preferably Mickey Mouse.


US House MA-6: The only "issue" in this race is whether or not the incumbent, Democrat John Tierney, knew that his wife was involved in a gambling ring involving her brothers. He claims he didn't, and is quick to quote a judge in the case who says so. The challenger, Republican Richard Tisei, is equally quick to say that's nonsense. He doesn't have any proof of this, other than statements by his (now incarcerated) brothers in law.  But there's enough traction there to make this a close race. Just not an interesting one, if you're concerned about what approach either candidate will take towards the economy, or education, or pretty much any substantive issue.

(Tierney, for his part, has worked hard to link Tisei with the Tea Party folks, which isn't the most natural fit given that Tisei is pro-choice and openly gay.)

The only candidate actually talking about issues is a first-time candidate for a third party, so he's gotten almost no coverage. Which is a shame, as he's regularly shown himself to be a thoughtful candidate unafraid to address serious issues and, in the big picture, the very role of government. For going where the muckrakers fear to tread, Blogalicious endorses Libertarian Daniel Fishman. Tell your friends.

US Senate: Hope sprang eternal in this race between incumbent Republican Scott Brown and Democratic challenger Elizabeth Warren. They agreed that if any third party ran an ad for them in this campaign, the candidate would have to make a donation equal to the amount of the ad buy to a charity of the opponent's choice (it happened once, and the donation was made). With that, it seemed like we could actually have a civil, issues-driven campaign.

Whoops.

What we've gotten is occasionally more dignified than the average mud-slinging. Brown has spent most of his campaign burnishing his bipartisan regular guy persona, getting plenty of barn coat time and making ads and debate references to various blue collar industries (fishing, for example) and "union guys." He's studiously avoided mentioning he's a Republican, and in at least one debate engaged in some pretty significant verbal gymnastics to avoid backing Mitt Romney and confirming that he would vote for Mitch McConnell as his party's leader in the Senate.

His other focus in the campaign has been to say that Elizabeth Warren isn't who she says she is (referring to her staking out a claim as the protector of the middle-class). This has mostly covered talk-radio friendly subjects, like her claim of Native American ancestry and her work for insurance companies in cases involving asbestos and steel workers. Hard to say how much of this has worked - you don't hear much of anything about these issues in these last days of the campaign.

Warren, for her part, has stuck to her main campaign theme - the political and financial systems are working together to stack the deck against average Americans - though at times she's stuck too closely to it (most notably in the debates, where references to "millionaires and billionaires" made a good drinking game counterpoint to Brown's effusive use of the title "Professor" when referring to Warren). She's mostly attacked Brown on his votes on women's issues and the potential for his re-election leading to a Republican-controlled Senate.

Over all of this, though, the thing that's surprised me the most about this race has been Brown's tendency towards dickishness.It was evident in the debates, and was especially evident in his (since recanted) suggestion that some of the people appearing in Warren's ads were paid actors. Combine this with his vague grasp of issues, and it's not much of a choice. Blogalicious endorses Elizabeth Warren.

President: Speaking of Republicans trying to grab the bipartisan mantle, we have Mitt Romney, who is looking to complete his Etch-a-Sketch/pivot campaign by tacking back to the middle after running to the right in the primaries. Which is all well and good as an electoral strategy, but leaves me with one lingering problem. I do not believe that Romney has any core principles outside of getting elected.  As Gertrude Stein would say, there is no there there, though that doesn't seem to bother a significant portion of the electorate.

Which you think would lead me to endorse President Obama, But it doesn't. I tend to think that his focus on health care prevented a more substantive approach to improving the economy, and his willingness to bail out financial institutions while not holding anyone accountable for putting the economy into the tank in the first place doesn't smack of hope or change. It smacks of business as usual. There are any number of things that have happened during his administration that I can get behind (repeal of DADT and dispatching bin Laden, most notably), but I can't get worked up for four more years of this.

Which leads me to do pretty much the same thing I did in 2004 and 2008. If you're someone who tends to vote Republican, you have as an option another former governor, one who made his vetoes stick and who got balanced budgets passed. And for all of you who drift towards the fiscally conservative, socially liberal stance, he's (sort of) pro-choice, supports same-sex marriage, and wants to end the drug war. For those of you who tend to vote Democratic, there's a candidate who is consistently left of center on pretty much everything and supports a New Deal-style program for creating jobs though investing in clean energy and putting greater oversight on the financial services sector. Depending on how you swing, Blogalicious endorses either Libertarian candidate Gary Johnson or Green candidate Jill Stein.

The Boston University men's hockey team opens its 2012-13 season tomorrow night at home against Providence. I will not be there. It will be the first home opener I've missed going back to the team's tenure at Walter Brown Arena. More notable, however, is that this will likely be the first season in which I will not attend a single game since I first started at BU as a student - in 1987.

The reasons for this can be found in this document and in details uncovered in its preparation. The two arrests for sexual assault last year were troubling enough, but the fuller picture compounds things.

I'm not going to say I'm shocked by what's been revealed - it's hard to be truly shocked when you grow up on the Georgia academic scandal to the Oklahoma drug scandal and everything at Miami, not to mention SMU's death penalty and whatever basketball point shaving scandal you want to bring up - but I'm hugely disappointed that this occured at my alma mater. I certainly can't support it, and as a long-time season ticket holder I have no interest in subsidizing it.

Am I going to ignore the team entirely this season? I would like to say yes, but I know at some point I'll tune in to one of the many games that will be televised. Twenty-five years of fandom does not go away easily.

I will say that the university didn't play hard ball too much when we cancelled the tickets - there was a little harrumphing about being in the second year of a three year agreement - so I think someone realized it's in their long-term interest to forego a year or two of revenue for the potential of fans coming back as long-term season ticket holders in the future.

So what will it take for us to start up as season ticket holders again? Speaking only for myself, I can think of three fairly obvious requirements:

1. No arrests. For anything, for at least a couple of seasons.I would like to say no arrests ever again, but I know the reality is that some idiot is going to get picked up for urinating in public at some point, and for whatever reason I think I'd be better with that in 2015 than in, say, December.

2. Player turnover. Getting through the current crop of juniors and seniors will help, and while it's unfair to think that all of the players in these classes are potential felons, they are also veterans of a team where inappropriate behavior was not seen as such. My hope here is that the newer players are more of a reflection of what's expected from high profile athletes.

3. A new coach. This is the hardest condition to write, as Jack Parker is synonymous with BU men's hockey. It's easy to see him as the college hockey equivalent of Bear Bryant, a coach who would stay at the helm until the very last. I have no idea if he has any benchmarks he wants to hit before he retires - most wins, another Beanpot-Hockey East-NCAA treble - but he may want to amend his goals and get someone (Mike Bavis?) prepped to take over sooner rather than later.

As for this year, I may take in some of the BU women's hockey team games - they're also nationally prominent, and tickets will not be hard to come by. I'm also thinking I may get to a couple of men's basketball games this year, the last in which they'll play in the America East conference. Who knows, 25 years from now I may still be going to see these teams.

Book Log 2012 #18: The Columbus Affair by Steve Berry

While this takes place in the same universe as the Cotton Malone series, this stand-alone book follows a disgraced newspaper reporter who is recruited by a shadowy billionaire to help solve a mystery involving Columbus and some of the most sacred artifacts in all of Judaism. Along the way the reporter has to come to terms with the two most painful broken relationships in his life (his father and his daughter) and the potential to restore his good name. There's also the involvement of a Jamaican crime lord, whose ambitions and cultural pride cause their own issues.

The background needed for the main character would not have allowed this book to be another Malone adventure, and I think that's a good thing. The Malone series could use a break; this year is the first year since 2006 that we won't have a new book in the series, and I hope writing a stand-alone work will help refresh the series.

This is a better outing than the last two or three Malone books, which I think comes from having new dynamics to explore between characters and, more importantly, having a good historical mystery to work with. For someone as well-known as Columbus there is a great deal of uncertainty about his background, and when you throw in some of the quirky facts about his first voyage there's ample room to create an interesting story. I kind of hope we get more stand-alone novels in the future.

Book Log 2012 #17: Dying Light by Stuart Macbride

The second book in the series featuring Logan "Lazarus" McRae, we find our detective transferred to the squad of misfits led by the similarly inept DI Steel thanks to a botched raid that's left a fellow officer in a coma. Stuck trying to rehab his reputation surrounded by losers, he finds himself on two investigations - one the slaying of prostitutes, the other a string of deadly arsons - though only one belongs to his squad. McRae sees solving the prostitute case as his way out - but so doesn't DI Steel, who takes every opportunity to claim credit.

Very much a worthy successor to Cold Granite, with the added office politics a nice counterweight to the crimes. There's also further developments in the relationship between McRae, his newspaper contact and the medical examiner who's dated them both, which adds an interesting (if a bit uncomfortable) personal note. Looking forward to reading the third book.

Book Log 2012 #16: DNA USA by Bryan Sykes

Sykes is a geneticist who has used studies of mitochondrial DNA to trace our roots back to a small number of common female ancestors, as recounted in an earlier book The Seven Daughters of Eve. And if you've not heard of that book, you will run across mentions of it three or four dozen times in DNA USA, which the publisher says gives a "groundbreaking examination" of the country based on its citizens' genetic code.

Except that most of the book is not about that at all. The first part (or "movement," ugh) talks about how scientists have used genetics to get a clearer view of human development and migration. This is where you'll hear the most about Sykes' previous books, generally to explain why he's not going into detail over a given subject or finding. It makes sense in context, at least to start, but it happens enough to feel a little off-putting.

The second part follows Sykes as he takes a cross-country road/train/plane trip, collecting saliva samples and stories from Americans to see what their genes say about them. There is some interesting stuff here - there's apparently a real issue with Native Americans and this sort of testing, which I'd never heard before - but there's also a fair amount of personal reflection on traveling with his son (and then his wife) which I didn't really care about.

The final, short section actually goes into the results, which are limited as only about 25 people were tested. This pretty much debunks the idea that this is some sort of "groundbreaking examination," though it gives Sykes material to make some sweeping yet unproven generalizations.

It's not written badly, and the first part is interesting enough. I get the feeling there's a better book about genetics and genealogy that could have come from this, though.