Month: August 2009

So, in the original oh-so-naïve plan, I’d have been on my way to Scotland today. Alas, I didn’t discover the requirement that I supply two different verifications of my last year’s income, so my thousand-dollar visa application was rejected.
 
After kicking the topic around for several days with relevant representatives of the Glasgow team, it was decided that I should make a fresh thousand-dollar application, starting over. I’ve sent out requests for all the right documents, and yesterday Margaret and I conjured up a plan for getting me to a center for processing my fingerprints; this one is located in Lawrence, Mass., the nearest location with the earliest available appointment. We made a hotel reservation in Hyannis, cause we couldn’t get a rental car for Sunday; I’d pick up the car first thing tomorrow, and drive to Lawrence, give my biometrics, drive back to Hyannis, and rejoin Margaret and Pippa.
 
Except.
 
It turns out that the Lawrence biometric center,
unlike the Hartford center where I gave prints the first time, which wanted none of my paperwork, the Lawrence center requires that I bring all of my supporting documents — some of which haven’t arrived yet. So I just cancelled the motel reservation (too late for a refund, so we’re paying for a night I won’t be sleeping there), we’re about to postpone the rental car, and change the ferry tickets. We’re guessing that all the docs will be here by Thursday.
 
It’s a pretty maddening, dispiriting experience.

Noteworthy stories on notes-sharing software and websites and self-paced, quiz, based online instruction. I don’t suppose that either of these heralds the new, jetpack-included, hyper-ultra-definitive Wave of Future Education, but both show people responding to a new technology by using it (well) to do what it’s good at. No, online quizzes do not replace seminars (“replacement panic” again) — but they provide a functional, apparently effective way of improving users’ recollection of particular sorts of knowledge. That’s a good thing.

In case you know the film work of John Hughes, heard of his recent death, and haven’t read this impressive memoir of one woman’s long-distance friendship with him, well, there’s the link. Stories such as this, and especially the comments thread, demonstrate one of the great benefits of the internet.

After several interactions with the Human Resources department at Glasgow, it appears that my best option is to reapply for a fresh Tier 1 visa.
 
These are the complications: I’ve already sent in the documents I had gathered for the previous application; I now have to gather a new set, plus the one bit of information my last application lacked. I have to cancel my flight to Glasgow that was scheduled for Sunday (would have been perfect, if my visa had in fact been approved). I have to obtain a fresh set of biometric data, much more difficult from here on Nantucket (I don’t know yet where the biometrics recording sites are in this area; I think that section of the application only appears once I’ve filled out the rest, which I haven’t yet for reasons I’ll get to in a bit). Assuming I were to fill out the application here and go to the mainland and arrange transportation to the relevant biometrics center, I don’t expect to be based on-island for the additional week or ten days until the visa comes through.
 
But where will I be? And should I go there immediately, and get my biometrics recorded from someplace more convenient, and closer to a theological library (where I could do some course prep)? It matters especially because I have to apply for the visa — the first step in the process — with a site to which they’ll mail the (heaven permitting) visa already determined. Nantucket has neither a library nor convenient net access (for research and for consulting colleagues by email), although that could be managed. Durham would require additional transportation costs and leaving Margaret and Pip behind before I actually leave for Glasgow. Most other in-between locations involve transportation issues or expenses of one kind or another.
 
So that’s where it is. Sometime today, probably, we’ll have to make a series of somewhat arbitrary decisions among contingent variables to rig up minimally-workable plan of action for visa-obtaining and Glasgow-traveling, with maximal opportunity for productive pedagogical activity in the interim (acquainting myself with Glasgow in advance seems out of the question).
 

It turns out that the British Embassy ruled against my Tier 1 visa request because they did not accept the signed and countersigned contract letter from Duke that stipulated my salary for last year as adequate evidence that Duke paid me that sum. The rejection notice indicates that it is not a “specified document” under paragraph 245C of the Immigration Rules. Since it was the contract under which I worked last year and I received none other, it’s a bit vexing that it doesn’t satisfy the Home Office. Apparently there’s a regulation hidden somewhere in the labyrinth of rules that determines what counts and what doesn’t — but since that regulation was not apparent when I filled out the forms, and indeed I still haven’t found it, I expect that I’m out of luck, and out $1,000 application fee (I can’t appeal the decision unless it was wrongly decided based on the documents I already sent — and since I can’t figure out what the rules are concerning “specified documents,” I can’t tell whether the matter was wrongly decided.)
 
[Added later: The rejection notice says that they want two different sorts of documentation for last year’s salary — not that the letter from Duke didn’t satisfy them. In that case, they did decide the matter rightly, because I didn’t submit two different sorts of documentation, although I haven’t found that requirement in the application guidance yet.]
 
All of this even though I have a signed contract to work at the University of Glasgow next year, so there’s no question of my being a burden on the government.
 
The package arrived too late for the relevant Human Resource employees at the University to step in and give their guidance; I’ll talk with them tomorrow, and we’ll presumably reapply under Tier 2, with the University sponsoring me. It will be a nuisance, it will take up extra time, and it will cost even more money, but it will work out.

Language Log points to the Anglo-American Telegraphic Code (via Google Books), a guide to the code by which telegraph users could abbreviate their messages, conceal their communications from casual observation, and save money on per-word charges. Since Language Log checked their blog title and came up with “Do not leave if you can help,” I first thought to see what “Random Thoughts” signifies in this code. As it turns out, “thought” is not a code word; presumably it’s too useful as a word in and of itself. “Random,” however, signifies “Will not cause improvement in rate(s).”
 
Apart from the goofing-around value of this codebook, it underscores my argument about meaning not being an immanent quality in words. Everything depends on the network of expectations and conventions that govern expressions; if I were a Victorian telegrapher, “random” could mean that someone is inflexible about a tariff. Once the conventions that govern telegraphy fade away, as per-word charges drop and other communication media prevail over the telegraph, fewer (and eventually “no”) communicators recognized that usage any longer — but nothing changed in the intrinsic qualities of the word.
 
The Code Book gives as an introductory example the sentence, “Legend attainder abduce viary sadr tailzie kasita dombeya thorn andarac” — which means, “In reply to your letter of 1st of August, I wish to say that if he will make a reasonable abatement I will consider the matter. What is your view? Can it be done safely? Let me know as soon as possible. If it can be done make the best terms possible. Answer by the Anglo-American Code.” To this, I have only one reply: “Random!”

My visa application has been denied, certainly delaying my trip to Scotland significantly. I don’t think I can learn what went wrong till my materials get back from the embassy, via UPS tomorrow. It could easily be a small detail that I missed — but I’m irked that the process is so cumbersome, when I have a new flat to move into, new work to do, just waiting for me over there.

Encouraging news about my current employer from The Scotsman; encouraging, that is, in the sense that the report identifies the cost of living there as low, and characterizes the students as hard-working. Now, that’s based on the number of hours they work for pay outside of academic efforts, and I don’t wish financial hardship on my students — but it bespeaks a degree of earnest commitment on their part, that they would devote so much energy to part-time jobs for the sake of their studies.
 
Inside Higher Education features a couple of good stories this morning, one on grading and one on the future of books. Cathy Davidson plans to alter the basis for grading in her courses this fall; although Margaret and I both note that this plan doesn’t take convincing account of the importance of the quality of writing and of critical engagement with the topic (although Duke’s Undergraduate Writing Program might provide a foundation for that), still it’s encouraging to observe a high-profile prof articulating some of the structural problems with the institutional-educational economy.
 
The other mostly just reports that the sorts of thing that technologists have been saying all along about the future of books and digital texts — that digital texts will not simply replace books, that they stand to amplify the market for long-tail books (though they will tend to damp the market for the runaway bestseller), that digital distribution adds a medium to the familiar channels of communication rather than undermining reading — but it’s good to see that librarians and university presses are noticing and making arrangements with a view to a positive digital future.
 
And although the outdoor temperature this morning was pretty moderate, the humidity is still high and Christ Church holds onto heat, so even a short Morning Prayer service in street clothes came close to being a thermally-uncomfortable experience. The Daily Office is a lovely, profound gift; it’s great that Christ Church sustains this as a regular aspect of their worship schedule.

I’m looking over the story from today’s New York Times, to see which parts of Glasgow I ought to visit soonest. I’ll be living relatively near the Botanic Gardens and the Oran Mor whiskey bar. (Numerous people have asked about my taste in whiskey; I will confess to all that I have a perfectly unformed palate in this regard, although one doubts that I will be as innocent after a few months living in Scotland.) The Kelvingrove Art Gallery sounds magnificent, and I’ll be sure to examine the Dr. Who exhibit in honor of Mark. And sooner or later, I’m bound to explore the Barras Market, to see whether there are any fountain pens…. (Thanks to Raewynne and my sister Holly for the pointer!)

1. Cory notes the fulfillment of what many of us have been saying all along. “Free on the web” drives people to want the (better-quality, value-added) paid-for versions of books and performances.
 
2. Margaret left this morning. I’ll see her again at the end of next week, then (after I leave for Scotland) not for several months. I do not recommend this plan to others. We have been through comparable intervals of mutual absence before, and it’s always sad. As Scripture saith, “It is not good for adam to be alone.”
 
3. Got the lectionary essay off my desk. Sermon tomorrow. Then I begin prepping my courses and working out the papers I’ll present at the conference in New Orleans.
 
4. The U.K. Embassy began processing my visa application yesterday; that means it almost certainly won’t be ready in time for my next-weekend flight to Scotland. I understand how both the embassy and the airline operate; I do wish, however, that there were a way to order a combo platter of permission-to-enter and means-of-transport.
 
5. I love Sunday mornings at Christ Church. At the same time, I predict that after leading three services and preaching at two, I’ll be knocked out tomorrow afternoon.