Wednesday, October 13, 2010

This Blog Has Moved

For anyone looking for new posts, check out the new location of my blog at www.davidlavallee.wordpress.com

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Thoughts on Religious Ignorance

"Americans are by all measures a deeply religious people, but they are also deeply ignorant about religion," writes Laurie Goodstein in her article written for The New York Times, Basic Religion Test Stumps Many Americans. The survey found that atheists, Jews, and Mormons were more knowledgeable than Christians regarding a wide range of religious topics. On average, atheists answered about five more questions correctly (Out of thirty-two questions) than Protestants and Catholics.
Why does this matter?


I have a habit of going on CNN.com and reading articles having to do with religion. But more than the contents of the articles, I am interested in the reader comments. Here are a few that caught my attention. These are based on a CNN article written about the same survey.

"I just laughed and shook my head when I read: "For example, it's not evangelicals or Catholics who did best – it's atheists and agnostics." Well yeah, there's a surprise! This is what's so damm scary about religion; people blindly following whatever they're told without question or doubt. Only education and embracing other cultures will erase the ignorance that religion has cursed on our societies. I'm a proud atheist!"

"Atheists know more about religions than religious people. And it's based on this knowledge that they choose not to believe it. So is it implied that religious people are too ignorant to know any better?"

"And it's painfully obvious that the poorer and less educated a population is, here in the U.S. as well as in other 3rd world countries, the more religious they tend to be. Naturally, this belief in a wonderful, magical afterlife gives them incentive to get through the drudgery of their lives here on Earth. I say that's fine if it gets them through the day, but in the end they will have suffered a less robust life based on their ignorance and, to top it off, they'll rot in the ground and turn to dust just like everyone else. There is no grand prize awaiting behind door number three!! Live life to the fullest NOW!"

"Religion is slowly leaving. Now speed up."

"Turn churches into museums. Gorgeous, historical architecture, but nothing good ever came OUT of them."

"How do you know a teaching is false, if you don't even know what the teaching is? Rejecting information without understanding it is willful ignorance."




When I read through the comments after these types of articles I usually find a few ideas repeated in different ways.
  • The more educated a person, the less likely they are to be religious.
  • Believing in God and/or an afterlife is silly.
  • Science and technological progress are making religion an unnecessary evil.
  • Reason and faith do not go together.
I encourage you to search through CNN's online archives to read these comments. Sure, there are a few people who represent the faithful, but the overwhelming majority appear to stand opposed to religion. The few who stick up for their faith are usually clumsy with their words and quickly overtaken by the objectors. It is a rare find to come across an articulate Christian with deep conviction about the faith they live by. At least in this realm.


In the beginning, followers of Christ were heavily persecuted for their beliefs. Most of Jesus' twelve disciples (Later apostles) were put to death in a number of agonizing ways. These first believers carried the message of the gospel (that God has lived among us, and shown us how to live, and provided Himself as a means to save us from sin and the things that ensnare us through his death and Resurrection) After this came two-thousand years of church history. Christianity became Christendom (when government and society came to be defined by the church) and the foundation for Western civilization (even though it started as an eastern religion). Why am I saying all of this? Because modern American Christians are the result of all this history. The first Christians were persecuted heavily and had to be ready to die for their faith in Jesus. Modern American Christians are largely very comfortable. And with this comfort comes a tendency toward ignorance. I am a part of this. I admit it. I am too comfortable.
One who has to live by faith every day in order to struggle through life has more than "religious knowledge." They have experience with the undeniable presence of God.

My father once told me about a Chinese Christian who came on American television to speak with a prominent pastor. The pastor told the Chinese man that they were concerned for their safety due to persecution, and prayed for them often. But the man of faith quickly responded, The Holy Spirit has told us to pray for the church in America. We are persecuted, but we are strong in the faith, and led by the Spirit. The pastor broke out in tears, recognizing how true this man's words were.


A lack of religious knowledge does not concern me. What concerns me is a lack of spiritual conviction. I believe this survey reveals a symptom of a more serious ailment.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Conspiracy Theorist Theorizes that Conspiracy Theories are Part of Larger Conspiracy


The following is an interview from the May 2087 issue of Highlights For Kids.

HFK sat down with Alan Marks, the former head of Conspiracy Theorists of America (CTA) to discuss his new book, The Great Conspiracy: I Don't Know Why I Even Wrote This Book Since You Won't Believe Me Anyway.


HFK: Mr. Marks, it is a great honor to speak with you. I know how much you value your privacy.

Marks: The honor is mine to have. We don't have much time.

HFK: Right, of course. Mr. Marks, can you tell us what inspired your new book?

Marks: Is there a mouse in your pocket? Who is us? Who else is with you!?!

HFK: My apologies Mr. Marks. I write for Highlights For Kids...

Marks: Yeah yeah yeah I know who you are. I know who you work for. (Looks anxiously in all directions then grabs my arm) Let's go inside.

(The interview is moved inside his underground bunker.)

HFK: Is this more comfortable?

Marks: A comfortable person is vulnerable. That's how they get you. They get you...

HFK: Excuse me Mr. Marks, but I'd like to ask you about your new book.

Marks: My book is just that...a book. It's a book of truth. Did you read it, Mr. uhhh?

HFK: My name is George, Mr. Marks. I introduced myself to you five minutes ago. And yes, I did read your book.

Marks: Did you believe it? I mean, the part about the conspiracy?

HFK: Mr. Marks, this isn't about me. Our readers are interested in you.

Marks: Of course they are. Of course they are. That's how people are. But, yes, my book. What about my book?

HFK: What inspired it? When did you start to believe in this great conspiracy?

Marks: I'm sitting in my bathtub, and I'm reaching for the soap. Then, I black out. When I wake up I'm underwater. At that moment, I knew the truth.

HFK: And what was the truth?

Marks: Conspiracy theories are all part of a conspiracy. You see, none of the conspiracy theories are true. That's why they are conspiracy theories. If they were true they would be facts. That means that all conspiracy theorists were in on it.

HFK: But you were President of the CTA.

Marks: Exactly! I had to quit immediately. And, I couldn't trust myself either. I was chief conspiracy theorist! I must be part of the great conspiracy.

HFK: So you don't trust yourself?

Marks: The great conspiracy is that all conspiracy theories are connected and perpetuated by crazy individuals who believe in them. I am just as guilty. I have revealed the truth about conspiracy theories. They are a conspiracy!

HFK: But why? Why would people do this? Why develop these outlandish theories?

Marks: They didn't develop them. I developed them. That's my theory. I held this information from myself all of my life. Then, when I lost consciousness I remembered my past lives. In my past lives I developed and perpetuated the conspiracies.

HFK: To what end? Why do all of this?

Marks: It's entirely self-serving. You see, in a past life I created Highlights for Kids. And I did it to brainwash the kids. Consider the Hidden Pictures page. That teaches kids that things are not what they seem. I included thousands of subliminal messages.

HFK: What? No, I don't believe you.

Marks: I did it all so that I could have the opportunity to say, I'm sorry. I'm sorry to all the kids. I'm sorry for brainwashing them.

HFK: That's crazy.

Marks: Are you saying that my conspiracy theory is a conspiracy?

HFK: Are you proving a point or are you serious?

Marks: I like the sticker page. You guys do good work.

Friday, September 24, 2010

My Thoughts on Glenn Beck (And Jon Stewart Too)


Glenn Beck is undoubtedly one of the most polarizing figures in America today. I understand that just saying his name is enough to raise the blood pressure of many. And I also understand that there are many who like him, and agree in large part with his views. After much thought, I will now attempt to offer my opinion of this controversial figure.

Here is an interview with Catie Kouric that I found. I looked for a half hour to find a Beck video that was not extremely biased for or against him. If you want to get a little taste of who Beck is, this should serve you well since it is coming straight from his mouth.





I am having an extremely difficult time writing about Glenn Beck. I've just been sitting here for a half hour trying to figure out how to approach him. Do I break him down into Pros and Cons? Do I talk about the things that we agree or disagree on? You know what, I just figured it out. I am going to simply write down what comes to mind. Here it goes.

Glenn Beck is heard by many millions of Americans every day. For this reason, we must take him seriously as an influence maker, even if we can't take him seriously. Those who strongly agree with Beck are likely to take his word, most, if not all of the time. Many view him as a leader within the Tea Party, which is a significant force in modern American politics. So, whether he likes it or not (and I believe he does) Beck is one of the loudest voices of conservatives today. In a way, he is representing me, since many of our views are shared. We are wary of big government, and we respect the Founding Fathers, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. We both believe that history can certainly teach us about the present. And, we are largely opposed to the policies of the Obama Administration.
Unfortunately, there are many occasions where I can't tell if he is being serious or facetious. He sometimes reminds me of Andy from The Office. It always seems like you're getting a performance, and not the real man. His expressions are over the top. Many times I get the impression that he is saying something just to get a reaction out of his audience. In short, he is extreme. Or, to put it another way, ridiculous. However true many of his statements are, Glenn Beck is ridiculous.
Beck has been compared to Jon Stewart on more than one occasion. At one point in the Katie Couric interview she even asks him about that comparison. This is very interesting. Jon Stewart is the host of a comedy/news show called The Daily Show. The Daily Show is a satire of the "real" news and never claimed to be a legitimate source of information for the public.
I want you to read an excerpt from a transcript that comes from an interview between Jon Stewart and the hosts of, the now cancelled, CNN's Crossfire.

STEWART: It's not honest. What you do is not honest. What you do is partisan hackery. And I will tell you why I know it.

CARLSON: You had John Kerry on your show and you sniff his throne and you're accusing us of partisan hackery?

STEWART: Absolutely.

CARLSON: You've got to be kidding me. He comes on and you...

(CROSSTALK)

STEWART: You're on CNN. The show that leads into me is puppets making crank phone calls.

(LAUGHTER)

STEWART: What is wrong with you?

CARLSON: Well, I'm just saying, there's no reason for you -- when you have this marvelous opportunity not to be the guy's butt boy, to go ahead and be his butt boy. Come on. It's embarrassing.

STEWART: I was absolutely his butt boy. I was so far -- you would not believe what he ate two weeks ago.

(LAUGHTER)

(CROSSTALK)

STEWART: You know, the interesting thing I have is, you have a responsibility to the public discourse, and you fail miserably.

CARLSON: You need to get a job at a journalism school, I think.

STEWART: You need to go to one. The thing that I want to say is, when you have people on for just knee-jerk, reactionary talk...

CARLSON: Wait. I thought you were going to be funny. Come on. Be funny.

STEWART: No. No. I'm not going to be your monkey.



The point is, Jon Stewart knows that he is a performer. He certainly has some political views that he shares openly, but he is very clear that he is a performer. Now, whether he likes it or not (And he probably does) Jon Stewart is respected and people listen to his opinion. He is an influential person with a podium. He is even having a counter rally to Beck's rally to restore honor. He is calling it the rally to restore sanity. So, they do share some striking similarities. But, and this is a big one, Jon Stewart does not try to make himself into the purveyor of political and worldly truth on the scale that Beck does. Jon Stewart is the wise fool. He knows he is a fool. Beck is intelligent. He is passionate. I believe he is even mostly genuine. And, I believe a large part of his views are correct. But, and this is a big one, he is attempting to be the fool and the truth bearer. You cannot have it both ways. It is irresponsible.


Now, I leave you with this clip from The Daily Show in which Jon Stewart mocks Glenn Beck. I hope you are able to laugh at this. Hopefully it reinforces the last point I was trying to make about the difference between them. (Side note: Excuse the first part from Countdown with Keith Olberman. This is the only video I could find. I'm actually pretty irritated by what that guy says to introduce the video. A tour de force? Really? Anyway, disregard.)




Wednesday, September 22, 2010

The Obligation of Artists

How influential can a writer be? How about a director or a singer? How about a painter?

I've been thinking about why I'm so interested and involved in popular culture. When I say popular culture I'm referring to mainstream movies, books, music, and television. Why does it matter what people watch or read or hear?

Looking at what the people are investing their time in can tell you much about those people. When a movie makes $150 million in one weekend it is like the people lifted it up on their shoulders. Then the movie makes it into everyday conversations, and the kids have all the toys. Or, the song is number one on the charts and the people are humming the same tune. Almost without us even noticing these popular forms of entertainment invade our lives. As a culture, we choose to raise up certain artists and their work. And who we choose to elevate says much about who we are.

Artists, I believe, have a serious obligation to produce works that will benefit those who are influenced by them. What do I mean? I mean that artists need to understand that their work has power, or at least potential power, to shape those who witness it. Shape our thoughts, our language, and our perception of the world.

Unfortunately, much of what I would deem popular culture does not appear to come from thoughtful individuals aiming to improve society. Just read the lyrics to California Gurls (Or however it's spelled) or Tik Toc. Also, look at most of the major comedies to come out of Hollywood in the past years. They are, many of them, so filthy and wildly inappropriate that I have trouble enjoying them, never mind recognizing any value for society as a whole. I often find myself laughing with reservations at movies like The Hangover, Superbad, Role Models, and the like. And Family Guy is largely about cheap laughs without substance.
It's such a relief when anything comes along that is either thought provoking, honest, or morally grounded. Christopher Nolan is an artist that produces great thought provoking films like The Dark Knight and Inception. I was thrilled to find a moral center in The O.C. And I love Muse partially because their lyrics are honest about their views on politics, love, and religion.





Artists, be responsible. Your power is great. Your influence is vast.
Society, be responsible. Think about what you're lifting up with money and attention.

Let me leave you with a quote from V for Vendetta.
Evey Hammond: My father was a writer. You would've liked him. He used to say that artists use lies to tell the truth, while politicians use them to cover the truth up.
V: A man after my own heart.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

If I Were A Billionaire


If you had many billions of dollars, what would you do? Of course there are those things that any selfless humanitarian would do, but for the sake of indulging outlandish fantasies let's put those things aside for now. If you weren't limited by money what would you really do? This is a topic that I have put much thought into. As you will see.


My first order of business would be to make my friend, Chris Cavalieri, my financial advisor. I once approached him with this offer. His response went something like, "My first duty as your financial advisor would be to hire a much more qualified financial advisor." At that point I replied, "That's perfect. Only a great financial advisor would be so wise." Chris is my advisor. Hopefully he lets me do the things I want to do.

Chris told me I should purchase about 100 Dunkin' Donuts franchises. This seems like a great idea as it would give me financial security if I happen to live another ten thousand years.

I wouldn't buy a mansion. Instead, I would buy or build between four and six houses, all near each other. A few of the houses would serve as temporary housing for anyone whom I first approved. I would charge very low rent, and encourage community dinners and cookouts on a regular basis.

I want to cover an entire beach with smooth colored rocks. Then I want to scatter small chunks of gold throughout the rocks. I would then invite the public to participate in a gold scavenger hunt. They would receive little bags to place the gold in. In the end, the people can keep the gold, but the one with the most gold also gets $500 dollars. But, if a child brings back a bag full of colored stones and says to me something like, "I like these stones because they are pretty," I will pay for their college education. Plus I would give their parents like $1000 dollars.

I would throw a massive Great Gatsbyesque cookout for my family and friends and probably everyone I've ever come in contact with. It would last 72 hours and include multiple volleyball, wiffleball, and ultimate Frisbee tournaments. There would be meals of all you can eat Chinese, Italian, and of course limitless hamburgers and hotdogs. There would be swimming pools and water slides and obstacle courses. Of course there would be prizes galore. Guests could stay in any of my nearby houses throughout the duration.

I would open a flower/candy/ice cream/bait/book shop. From time to time I would work in each section, but I would mostly leave the work to my friendly employees. They would receive a minimum wage of $20 an hour. Once in a while I would pay to have a famous author do a book signing in order to attract business. Everything would be fairly priced.

I would build a Friendly's restaurant near my houses. Once a week I will pay for one lucky family's meal. Anyone who orders the Honey BBQ Chicken Supermelt will get a numbered ticket, and once a month there will be a drawing for a year of free ice cream.

I would not build a movie theater in or near my houses. I want to go out to the movies. I might buy out a theater from time to time, but never on an opening weekend. That would suck for everyone else.

And last, but certainly not least, I would devote weeks at a time to writing my book. You know, the post-apocalyptic love story dealing with free will. When I'm not writing that, I would write for whoever would take me. I would even start my own magazine dealing with American popular culture. And another magazine focusing on the Christian perspective. This would be my work.
Writing.
If I had billions of dollars. If I were poor.



For any loyal followers, I am planning to write a response to Elizabeth Gilbert's, Eat Pray Love as soon as I have finished it. This will likely carry into multiple posts. After reading the first few chapters I think it's safe to say my response will be... impassioned.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Scientists Baffled By Their Inability to Destroy Humanity


When Oppenheimer, the scientist known as the father of the atomic bomb, witnessed the destructive power that he had unleashed upon the world, he famously said, "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds." But more than sixty years later it seems that the ambitious Oppenheimer was overshooting the mark. Scientists, no matter how hard they try, have failed to wipe out all existence. And it is baffling scientists.
"I really thought we had something when we figured out how to split the atom. That should have sealed it. But here we are. Still alive. And not just alive, but thriving with a global population nearing seven billion," said a scientist.
"You'd think by now a mutated virus would turn the world into zombies, or a machine would become self aware and turn on us all, but it's just not happening. People are just too damn resilient," said another scientist.
Despite a number of setbacks, some scientists are still hopeful. They point to the Hadron Collider, which could create a black hole right here on Earth.
"We have no idea what this thing is going to do. But our fingers are crossed."

The future seems bright for scientists. Monkeys moving robot arms with their thoughts. New synthetic killer viruses. And there's even talk of shooting stuff into the Earth's atmosphere to block some of the Sun's rays in an attempt to reduce global warming.

"What keeps me going is the thought of Mother Nature taking all the glory for herself. An asteroid impact, super volcano, and any number of natural disasters could beat us to the punch. That's just unacceptable," said a man in a lab coat.




Dale Anderson is not a real reporter. He has no formal education and lives out his life in an underground bunker. His book, It'd Be A Conspiracy If It Weren't True, sold over seventeen copies in its first four years of publication. He does not reflect the views of this blog.

Monday, September 13, 2010

My Thoughts on the 3D Trend in Movies











It seems as if every new movie coming out is featured in 3D. Many of them are geared toward children, but some are aimed specifically at adults; Avatar and Resident Evil 3D to name a few. There is no sign of this trend stopping. What do I think of this new craze?

Movie ticket prices are already criminally high, so to add on those extra dollars for a 3D experience makes purchasing them unjustifiable. In my local theater it is about $11.00 to see a movie. The usual matinee price is around $8.00. 3D ticket prices can go as high as $14.00. That is about the price of your average DVD.
And don't forget that snack purchases are even more outrageous. A box of candy will cost between $3.50 and $5.00. A bag of popcorn will cost at least $5.00. Even an Icee will run you $5.00. A family of four could easily spend upwards of $60.00 if they see a 3D film and have a few snacks. That is criminal.

Another issue I have is that 3D is almost universally used as a gimmick. Can you tell me how 3D adds any real depth to a plot or character? It is merely visual stimuli to make you feel that the movie is reaching into your space. But is this necessary? I know that a movie is good when I forget that I'm watching a movie. That is magic! And it is the result of a competent director, writer, cast etc. How will birds flying at me or glass shattering on me make me care about a lame story? Even Avatar, the best 3D movie to use 3D well, loses some points in my book. When the film becomes all about how it looks over how well it is written and acted, it loses the magic. It loses me.

Think of all the great films of the past century. Would any of them be strengthened by the addition of 3D? Would any of your favorite films be more cherished by you if they had this extra element? I suggest that 3D is bad for film, and as a result, bad for our society.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Watch the World Burn

A man in Florida plans to burn a book, and the whole world ignites.
Here's the story as I see it after reading four articles and watching several news programs.

Rev. Terry Jones has a church of about fifty people in the state of Florida. They had planned to burn about two hundred copies of the Quran on the ninth anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. The main reasons for doing this seem to be that Jones and his congregation believe strongly that Islam is an evil religion, and also that God told them to do it. This story has spread like wildfire all over the world. The Vatican, the president, Hillary Clinton, many evangelical Christians, Gen. David Petraeus, and most other people have condemned the plan. This story has sparked much discussion about the limits of free speech. At the time I posted this, Jones had decided to cancel the book burning since he believed that his action (or lack of action) would result in the movement of the controversial Mosque near the site of ground zero. Muslim leaders report that no such arrangement has been discussed.


I'm going to ask a few questions related to this story and then answer them.


Did God tell Rev. Terry Jones to burn the Quran?
Jones claims to be a Christian. This means that he believes that Jesus Christ is the Son of God as revealed in the Bible. It also means that he is part of the body of Christ. The body of Christ is a term used to identify followers of Jesus from every nation and sect. Christians are not meant to live and operate alone. They are meant to live in community with each other. This means many things. Some of which include: struggling together, teaching about life and God, encouraging each other, expressing the selfless love of Christ, and when one goes astray by engaging in something opposed to the way of Christ, rebuke. What you saw this week was rebuke from the body of Christ. Burning Qurans will not spread the good news about Jesus Christ. There is a good chance that Jones' main motivations were hate, anger, and fear. God did not tell Terry Jones to burn the Quran.


Should Rev. Terry Jones be allowed to burn the Quran?
Yes, he should be allowed. Though the act of burning Qurans would undoubtedly anger Muslims around the world, freedom of expression in the United States of America should be preserved. If Jones were somehow stopped by our own government, what would that mean? It would mean that freedom of speech was compromised out of fear. We can already burn the flag in protest. The Supreme Court ruled that it would be unconstitutional to prevent someone from burning the flag. So, would it be right to sacrifice our freedom because burning a Quran is offensive? How many acts of free expression are offensive? What makes this one special?


Can Christianity and Islam ever be reconciled?
I have often heard that Christianity and Islam are both religions of peace and fundamentally the same. The problem is that they are not the same. They are fundamentally different. I am sure any true Muslim would agree with this because they would not accept Jesus Christ as their personal savior just as I wouldn't accept Mohammed as a true prophet of God. For Christians, Jesus Christ is everything. An honest Christian and an honest Muslim understand that their faiths are incompatible. This does not mean that they can't tolerate each other, or that it is impossible to live in peace, but it does mean that they have to face the fact that they believe fundamentally different things about God and the world. Based on my understanding of human nature and history, I'm afraid it is unlikely that the people who have those COEXIST bumper stickers will ever get their way.


What does this story show us about the world in which we live?
Relations between Christians and Muslims, and the U.S. and the Muslim world are tenuous and volatile. When a tiny church threatening to burn a book causes this much of a response, you have to see that tensions are high. The issue of the Mosque at Ground Zero reveals the same thing.
It is also incredible how connected the world is. We are no longer separated by oceans and mountains and deserts. Boundaries are dissolving. And people are freaking out.
Oddly enough, this story reinforces the truth that one person can make a difference.
Each of us stands before a global audience.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

The Qualifier

The Dark Knight is better than The Notebook.
I think The Dark Knight is better than The Notebook.

Friendly's is a better restaurant than Longhorn Steakhouse.
In my opinion, Friendly's is a better restaurant than Longhorn Steakhouse.


We can't go walking around spouting absolute statements all of the time. Absolutely not. But, we do have to be aware of the language we use. In the time that we live, I believe that we are erring on the side of caution. Less willing to stand by a truth outside of our own opinion.

If 16 years of schooling has taught me anything it is that every claim needs to be backed up with evidence, or proof. When you make a statement without such a qualifier as, I think, you should expect to be challenged. This is true among friends and teachers. And sometimes even the safety of the qualifier isn't enough to protect you from recoil. For instance, "I think the Jonas Brothers are better than the Beatles." You should be destroyed for saying such a thing.

This demand for proof is one reason we fall back on the qualifiers. With a qualifier, proof isn't as important because it's my opinion or your opinion. How difficult it is to argue based on opinions.

I hope your deepest beliefs aren't opinions. I hope they are built on a foundation of reason and proven true through the fires of experience.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The Perfect Chip Incident

Before I begin I want to comment on the sudden influx of posts. If you look at my posting history you'll find that I averaged about six per month between March and June. Then in July I posted eleven times, and in August, thirteen. What happened? Part of it is an increase in reader feedback. When I started to hear from people that they were reading it I felt encouraged to write more often. The other part is that I got hooked. Like you can get hooked on exercise when you get into a routine, writing in here (and in general) is something that I both want and need to do. If I don't, it feels like I'm missing something. It's becoming an addiction. So let's make the best of it.


Today we will flash back to fifth grade. It was a good year for me. I can say with confidence that it was my happiest year of school. My best friends at the time, John and Tim were there, along with a number of other A-listers. The object of my prepubescent affection was also there, Ashley. Fifth grade marked the peak of a seven year crush. Of course, they weren't all happy days. This is one of those darker days. Someday, I'll write about the greatest incident of all, but today the focus will be the perfect potato chip.


I made it a habit to purchase one small bag of Lay's KC Masterpiece potato chips at lunch. As a younger man I had an insatiable appetite for potato chips, and KC Masterpiece was my Achilles' heel. I recall more than one occasion in which I consumed an entire large bag of them. But we will speak no more of that. Who can say how many bags came into my possession during that year? Maybe the odds were stacked in my favor. Maybe fortune had chosen me arbitrarily. Whatever the case, one of these bags was filled with something special.

From the moment I saw it, I knew. This was perfection. Try to visualize it with me. Folded over once without blemish. Covered with an even coating of barbecue flavoring on both sides. I didn't need outside verification, but those around me agreed. This chip was flawless. You didn't have to taste it to know that it was delicious, and beyond reproach. What to do with such a find? What to do?

I couldn't eat it right away. I had to treasure it like Gollum treasured the One Ring. That is why it came outside with me during recess. I held it high with pride, all the time fantasizing what it would taste like.

So there I am, standing on the far corner of the pavement. The chip is held carefully in my left hand at eye level. I'm looking at it. I'm lusting over it. Then, without any warning, tragedy strikes.

I look on in terror as a phantom hand reaches out of the abyss to dislodge my perfect chip from my tender grip. It falls to the ground in a million pieces. It is lost forever. Never to be eaten. Never to be enjoyed. Never to be seen again.

The hand belonged to Chris Cavalieri. Somehow, I was able to get past this injustice and Chris is now a good friend. But at that moment, he was an agent of chaos sent from Hades to rob me of my bliss. When recess ended, I walked away, defeated. The seagulls that hovered around the school found an easy snack. I saw them swoop in and take what should have been mine.

The perfect chip is lost forever. I do not have the strength to write anymore...

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Killer Hurricane Spares All...For Now










One of the most deadly hurricanes in recorded history, ranked #1,876, Earl has caused unparalleled potential devastation up and down the East Coast. From Florida to Maine citizens are still grappling with what could have been a swirling blood bath of a storm.

"I mean, I could have lost my home, my business, and hell, even my life," said Bill Ryan, resident of Martha's Vineyard. "Eighty foot storm surge. Thirty foot waves. Two hundred mile per hour winds. I'm still recovering from all of the hypothetical scenarios."

And Mr. Ryan may not be out of the woods. Meteorologists are still not convinced that Earl is done with us quite yet. The National Weather Service issued this statement earlier today.
"Many living along the East Coast view Earl as a non-event, and accuse us of exaggerating the storm's potential power. But recent computer scenarios are showing that Earl will loop around the North Pole as a minor storm, causing upwards of 1/8 " of snow in some parts, before it heads back down the East Coast as a Category 5, or higher, hurricane. Our computers are pretty darn sure that they can't be wrong, so you people better listen to us. This goes against everything we know about weather behavior, but Earl is a killer. Perhaps the worst storm in history. And he's just getting started."

Americans living on the coast have already responded to this warning by buying record quantities of milk and bread. Because everyone knows that you can't survive a storm without milk and bread.

This reporter predicts that Earl, or Earl II as some are calling it, will cause between 40 and 80 billion dollars in damage and kill between 100,000 and 800,000 people. Rumor has it that a polar bear has already choked to death on the snow produced by what's left of Earl I.

The four horsemen of the apocalypse have arrived, and their names are E, A, R, and L.

A Happy Birthday

It all started yesterday at work with an ice cream cake and card. The cake was no standard Carvel, (though I like those) but a custom made creation from a local ice cream stand. It had three separate sections: cappuccino and fudge chunks, black raspberry, and vanilla. I loved it. My co-workers signed a card that told me, based on the manner in which I opened it, that I am optimistic and anal retentive. The latter is debatable. At work I am known for my attention to detail and cleanliness, but one look at my room would shake your faith.
While I was eating cake with my boss he asked me if I wanted to take Saturday off and have a nice three day weekend. I accepted this proposal with enthusiasm.

After work I embarked on a modest outing with Brendon to Uno's. By the way, the name of this restaurant confuses me. Is it just Uno, or is it Uno's? I think it's actually Uno, but we call it Uno's. Maybe you call it Uno. Anyway, I got a simple chicken sandwich. No problem there. A modest and enjoyable outing.

Seeing as it was a special occasion, I decided to watch a special movie, Spiderman 2. Someday I will write about why I love this movie so much. I fell asleep around the part where Peter Parker loses his powers.

I woke up at 6:30 this morning. This did not upset me at all since it only meant more time to enjoy my day off. Without much hesitation I continued to watch the rest of the movie; not a bad way to start the day. My mother had wrapped a present for me and it was sitting next to the table. It was the new Metroid video game for Wii. That might not mean anything to some of you, but the original Nintendo Metroid video game was present during my early childhood and I hold many fond memories of playing it with my brother and cousins. It is a fine gift.

Around 9:30 I got changed and loaded my father's truck with picnic tables to bring to my brother's house. He is having our family Labor Day cookout, which is tomorrow. I'm getting off topic, but there will be an inflatable water slide this year. I'm pretty excited.
After this I went to Longhorn Steakhouse with my mom. It was good, as usual. I always get the wild west shrimp and Mr. Pibb for a drink. We joked about how we're always forgetting to bring the leftovers home even after they are placed in the containers. And, of course, we forgot them.
We then headed over to Barnes and Noble where I picked up Carrie Fisher's new book about her life, Wishful Drinking. It was recommended by a friend, and I think she's funny. When I got home I sat down and read it in a few hours because it was entertaining and an easy read. I'm not sure to whom I would recommend the book; but I liked it. So if you think we have similar tastes, give it a shot.

Now we enter the visual portion of today's post. I took a few pictures of the little birthday dinner we had.This is my two year old niece, Sara. She likes to peel cucumbers. Sara picked out my party decorations, which I enjoyed thoroughly. As you will see in the next picture.




Noise makers are exactly that by the way. Though not as bad as those horns that were blaring during the World Cup.



This is pretty much my perfect cake. Yellow cake with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles. But what really puts it over the top are the candy pieces. I love those candy pieces. If you're ever in the position to make me a cake ( just hear me out) throw on those candy letters!


I have to explain the next picture. Sara labored to find me the perfect birthday card. After an excruciating search, she found the one.







This should be crippling you with its innocence and cuteness. It should be noted that five candles were placed on the cake.

That's my birthday. I'll probably finish the day with another movie with my parents (did you know I like movies?) All in all, it was a good day. At least no one died this year. I'll never forget you,












Steve Irwin
22 February 1962 – 4 September 2006

Friday, September 3, 2010

Celebrating Existence

Twenty-four years ago, I was born. This was the first and only time in history that it happened. Twenty-four years later, I reflect on the impossibility of my own existence.

How many people had to live in order for me to have life? The right people first had to exist and then they had to find the right people to have children with. Not only that, they had to time it right. The right egg, the right sperm, the right conditions. And this happened for thousands and thousands of years. If the universe started over, the odds of any of us existing would be so small that we would have to deem it impossible.
How much tragedy and injustice led to my existence? Certainly my ancestors weren't all happily married and in love. Many suffered at the hands of tyrants. Many died prematurely. They would never know that their lives would result in my own.

Was it all chance that led to my birth? Chance that led to a life that believed it had a purpose? Or was it by design? This one will live.

Whatever you believe, you have to celebrate existence. The odds are stacked against us. 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000+ to 1. None of us should be alive. But we are. I am.

It's my birthday.

How can this be?

Thursday, September 2, 2010

God Didn't Create the Universe/ But What About Me?

A blog should have some focus. Whether it is about cooking or sewing or living in a foreign land, people want to know what to expect. What is my blog about? It probably seems random. It looks like I'm just picking topics out of a hat. Thoughts of a Post-Grad English Major. These are my thoughts. Usually they float around during the day, and I have a good idea about how I want to address them by the time I write. This is why they vary so wildly. In this way we lose the comfort of the familiar, and also the feeling of forward progress that might come with a blog regarding any type of adventure. But at least one thing is gained; the freedom to write about anything in any way. The world of this particular blog is free. "A world without rules and controls, without borders or boundaries. A world where anything is possible. Where we go from there is a choice I leave to you."- Neo




I came across an article with a title that demanded I take a closer look, Stephen Hawking: God didn't create the universe. Here are some of Hawking's quotes from the article, which came from his new book, The Grand Design.

"The universe can and will create itself from nothing."

"Spontaneous creation is the reason why there is something rather than nothing, why the universe exists, why we exist."

"It is not necessary to invoke God to light the blue touch paper [fuse] and set the universe going."


And here is an excerpt describing another topic of the book.

It was the discovery of other solar systems outside our own, in 1992, that undercut a key idea of Newton's -- that our world was so uniquely designed to be comfortable for human life that some divine creator must have been responsible.
But, Hawking argues, if there are untold numbers of planets in the galaxy, it's less remarkable that there's one with conditions for human life.
And, indeed, he argues, any form of intelligent life that evolves anywhere will automatically find that it lives somewhere suitable for it.



I read this article a few times. Then I came to this conclusion:

I don't actually know that Stephen Hawking is a genius. People say he is a genius and I take their word for it. I haven't met him, and even if I had, would I be able to appreciate and understand his intelligence? He would tell me all of these theories and formulas, and I would struggle to make sense of them. Of course, I would never grasp them. I barely passed high school algebra with a C-. But here is what I do know.
Hawking's theories are certainly based on mountains of scientific data. He isn't on a bloodthirsty crusade to wipe out religion. He is simply writing about what he believes. His beliefs, unlike many of those claiming to have religion, are extremely well thought out and tested. His life is in physics. He relates to it.
In a similar way, I relate to Jesus Christ. As Hawking surely poured over the works of those great physicists who came before him, I immerse myself in the works of the prophets and the apostles and the gospel writers. As Hawking surely stayed up late at night thinking, questioning, and writing about how the universe works, I do the same, but about how God works in my life, and in the world.
We all have an inner life that no one sees. And a way that no one can truly understand. Nevertheless, we all choose our own gods. Hawking chooses to make physics his god. I choose to follow Jesus Christ. There is no escape from this. What you choose will become you.

When I see that someone has claimed that God did not create the world that I live in, I can only respond, "But what about me?"


Wednesday, September 1, 2010

In the Headlines: Who's happy? Engaged, high-earners

The next installment of the fake news in which I take a real headline and make up the story.


Who's Happy? Engaged, High-Earners

by: Sir Walter Dale Octavius III




A recent study from a local high school found that there are only two categories of happy people in the world, those who earn a lot of money, and those who are engaged. Everyone else is hanging on by a thread.

Students conducting the study asked their peers one question: Would you rather be rich and in love, or poor and alone? All thirty students who responded chose wealth and love. The "researchers" then watched Pride and Prejudice and the first hour of Wall Street.
"We got the gist of Wall Street, and it seemed pretty clear that more money equals more happiness. Mr. Darcy was loaded. And he was even happier when he got engaged. You take our survey results and mix it with our pop culture analysis and you get some rock solid findings," said Luke Mitchell, a sophomore.



Not all are convinced by the study.

"I watched The Wedding Singer last week, and there were a couple of characters who weren't happy when they were engaged. And one of them was with a guy who worked on wall street and made a lot of money," said Jim Cromwell, a skeptical senior.

This study has already sent shock waves through the school.

Billy Gordon, running for junior class president, gave a speech following the release of these findings. In it, he promised high paying jobs and free engagement silly bands to everyone.

Lunch lady morale is at an all time low. Most are single, and all are struggling to make ends meat. This reporter hopes they will excuse the pun.


The study was funded by the student council, and a car wash held in the parking lot of a local Arby's. Its results will not be published in the school paper.




Sir Walter Dale Octavius III is a CNN contributor and inventor of the stretched out Coke bottle filled with colored sand. He also writes for Seventeen magazine and claims to have seen Andre the Giant once.


Elementary Hell: The Worst Year of My Life

It's time to go back to school. Children are packing their backpacks with fresh notebooks, pencils, rulers, crayons, and all sorts of classic good stuff. I drive by them in the morning, and usually it fills me with warm thoughts of a time long gone. All of the good memories float to the surface like a scoop of vanilla in a glass of root beer. Unfortunately, I cannot escape the smell of vomit.

Before we descend into the ninth circle of my own personal hell, I want you to know what preceded first grade. My early childhood was fantastic. I had my brother, sister, and cousins to play with. My mother and I watched Sesame Street and the like. It was sublime. Preschool was wonderful. Kindergarten was a blast. Then something happened.

I actually remember my first day of first grade. We looked at a magazine with Bill Clinton on the cover and the teacher asked us if we knew who he was. Then we looked in our books as the teacher read from a much larger version of the book that she placed on a podium. I remember that the color of the parrot was different in our books. All this time I kept looking at the clock. I could tell time, and I began to see that this first grade was not like kindergarten. It was such a long day. Six hours! I remember dreading this fact. But much worse than spending an eternity in school was spending it with Mrs. Grant.

According to the Myers-Briggs personality test I am an INFJ. What's most relevant about that is the N. The N means that I am intuitive. As a young child this caused me much suffering. One time my grandmother came over my house (I was 3 or 4) and she was upset about something. It affected me so deeply that I told her, "Get out of my house." Regarding Mrs. Grant, I could tell that she was done with teaching. She had one more year until she retired and I picked up on her negative vibes. This was in sharp contrast to my previous teachers and my own mother. They were all warm and nurturing. Mrs. Grant was bitter and strange to me.

One more thing about my intuitiveness. This heightened awareness turned me into a full blown hypochondriac. I was so aware of my surroundings and my own body that I understood my own mortality, but couldn't rationalize it. As a first grader, I feared the following: that my eyes would fall out, my esophagus was broken, my eyes would get stuck in one position, my toes would fall off... and more that I can't recall. I would walk around with my hand covering one of my eyes in case it fell out. I thought maybe I could put it back in. This caused me to be extremely anxious.

So you see, I had a fear of my own body on top of a fear of my teacher. Most days before getting on the bus I threw up next to a tree in my front yard. It was so bad that one of my teeth turned yellow. It must have destroyed my baby teeth. Thank God they were just my baby teeth. Who knows what it did to my esophagus.

I went to the nurse many many times. Partly because I made myself sick with worry and partly because I just wanted to get out. I recall the nurse asking me if I read the story about the boy who cried wolf. And another time asking me if I even knew what nauseous meant. My mother knew I wasn't really sick (maybe in the head) so she would tell them to keep me there. No escape. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.

My lunches didn't help. My mom made me sandwiches with lettuce that would wilt in the heat. I remember how they tasted. White bread, mustard, ham, lettuce. (My mom wasn't trying to kill me by the way. She didn't really know what to do with me.)

I found some help in an old school chum's grandmother who was also a lunch lady. She attempted to bail me out of hell a few times, which led to a meeting with the principle. The principle asked me if I wanted to be transferred to a different class. I refused. Who knew if the change would be better? I would continue walking through the valley of death.

At home, my brother and sister lacked all compassion. (You see, the thing about my family is that we are generally a well off, stable, healthy bunch. The flip side of that was a general lack of compassion regarding emotional issues. We simply don't encounter much in the way of emotional disorders so when your little brother is a nut, all you know to do is make him suffer.)
Keep in mind that they were teenagers, so don't judge them too harshly. They would sometimes try to make me throw up. Other times they would play into my health phobias. To them it all must have seemed silly. And maybe it was. But to me, at the time, it was hell.

So that's first grade in a nutshell. Hell on earth. You may be wondering what became of me as I grew older. Did I still have those fears and anxieties?

All I will say is, you know who I have become. I have no doubt my childhood traumas were a crucial part of my development. As an adult, I faced them again in a different form. But that's for another day. Maybe.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Sundae Bloody Sundae

I wrote this very short story about four years ago. It was inspired by my sister's insatiable appetite for McDonald's hot fudge sundaes. It was requested that I post it. Originally, it was posted on Livejournal. Remember Livejournal?


McDonalds brings unparalleled bliss to billions upon billions of satisfied customers. We’ve all read the signs that seem to verify these stats, Over 99 Billion Served. Never do we question this impossible claim. Sure, it most likely means that they count repeat customers, but what if that were not the case? There are fewer than seven billion humans on the planet, and many of those do not consume fast food of any kind. So who are these others? Where are these others? And most importantly, what do they really want?


On a warm Sunday afternoon Mary felt a strong urge to consume a hot fudge sundae from her favorite fast food joint, McDonalds. She grabbed her keys

, brushed her hair, and convinced her massively obese teenage brother to tag along. (It really didn’t take much convincing.) They hopped, well, she hopped, and he struggled into the minivan. Completely out of breath, Tim asked her the most important question of the day.

“Do you think…the…machine is…gonna work?”

“It damn well better be working, or there’s going to be a massacre.” She could not have known at this time that her statement would become prophetic.

They started on their journey with the best of intentions; simply two hungry, innocent siblings with a hankerin for some frosty deliciousness. Unbeknownst to them, and the rest of humanity, their craving would lead to a series of unprecedented events that would determine the fate of all peoples.

Mary pulled into the parking lot and asked her jovial brother if he wanted anything besides a sundae.

“Another sundae and a Big Mac stuffed with a fish sandwich.”

“A Big Mac stuffed with a fish sandwich. I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and just get you one sundae.”

“Hello, welcome to McDonalds, would you like to try a value meal?” said the voice from the loudspeaker.

“No thank you. I’d like to have two hot fudge sundaes with nuts please.”

“Two nuts?”

“Yes please. And two sundaes.”

“Oh, I’m sorry our ice cream machine is broken.”

On a normal day this would have simply aggravated Mary, and she would have driven off without incident, but something was stirring inside of her that would not accept “no” for an answer.

“Can I ask why it is broken? It seems to break often,” she asked.

“I’m not at liberty to say. Would you like anything else?”

“No, but I do want to talk to your manager.”

“Oh boy, pull into the parking lot and come inside then.”

Mary parked the minivan and went inside with her brother close at hand. Nothing is more intimidating to a McDonald’s staff than an overweight teenager, and she planned to use him as leverage. The manager stood at the cash register completing an order for an elderly couple. They left him in a state of frustration after paying with nickels and dimes.

“Excuse me sir, are you the manager?” Mary asked.

“Yes I am Miss. Is there a problem?”

“I wanted to ask about the broken ice cream machine. Why is it so often broken?”
“I uhhhh, I don’t know why. It just breaks down from too much use once in a while,” he said nervously. Mary reached over the counter and grabbed his tie.

“I am so sick of this shit! Who are you? Who the hell are you? You’re no one!”

“Ma’am please.”

“Ma’am? What is this garbage?”

“Mary, settle down,” Tim pleaded.

“No, I will not settle down!” She pulled out a pistol and pushed it to the manager’s forehead.

“Oh my God she has a gun!” One of the pimpled face employees cried.

“Who wants to add Ed here to the menu? Who wants a side of Ed with a Big Mac stuffed with a fish sandwich? Now, let’s see just why this machine isn’t working.” Mary pushed Ed, the manager, toward the ice cream machine.

“I I I I I I ca ca ca ca can’t do this,” Ed said.

“What?!?” Mary shot Ed in the left knee. A female employee fainted. “Open it!”

Ed, writhing in agony, reluctantly inserted the key that would unlock the belly of the beast. As he slowly opened the door, Mary wiped the blood from her face. Then she beheld something terrible.

Inside the ice cream machine was a tiny goblin-like creature with yellow eyes. It screamed louder than a jumbo jet, and made a mad dash for Mary. Her reaction was to shoot, and shoot she did. The creature blew into a million pieces.

“No! You madwoman! Do you know what you’ve done?” Mary did not reply, for she was still working out the recent unexplainable events in her head.

“What was that thing?” Tim asked.

“That was a Barlmarg from the magic ice lands of Buttjig. His name was Crawkbar the Lenient,” Ed replied.


THE END?






Sunday, August 29, 2010

The Sexual Purity of Luke Skywalker

Here is an angle of Star Wars that you have probably not encountered. Today, we will be looking at Luke Skywalker's sexual purity.

First, I should address the 800 pound gorilla in the room. Of course I am referring to Luke and Leia's brush with incest. By the end of Return of the Jedi we know that Luke and Leia are both children of Anakin Skywalker. This is all well and good, except Luke had the hots for her in the first two films. Chances are Leia also had a thing since she kissed him in every movie.
It's easy to blow this whole thing out of proportion. Let's calm ourselves and look at this situation as reasonable people.

At no time in the films does the level of attraction between Luke and Leia enter into the realm of the sexual. What do I mean? If you really look at how they interact, they much more closely resemble platonic friends than lovers. The only possible exception comes at the beginning of Empire Strikes Back when Leia kisses Luke on the recovery table to spite Han. That kiss looks sort of passionate. But remember, it's a response to her passion for Han (even if it's passionate anger). I can let it slide. Besides, neither of them knew they were related at that point. I think we can get past this whole thing. Please, try.

Perhaps some of the appeal Star Wars has for young boys is Luke's lack of a love interest. Girls aren't super appealing when you're 6. This makes Luke more relatable to the young audience. He isn't driven by love for a woman. He is driven by a hunger for purpose, adventure (at least initially. Before Yoda got to him), friendship, and destiny. Just think of all the movies where the protagonist is trying to get the girl. Often times, this is his major motivation. Luke is a man on a quest. His friends Leia, Han, C-3PO, R2-D2, and Chewbacca are his closest relations. It's simple. It's Star Wars.

Juxtapose Luke's purity with Anakin's uncontrollable desire for Padme. First of all, it's annoying. You could gag a maggot with those mushy scenes from Attack of the Clones. Anakin and Padme are that annoying couple that think they're the greatest couple in history. Second, this romance goes against the way of the Jedi. It is a conscious act of disobedience. Not only is it a symptom of Anakin's deep character flaws, but it is also a major step toward the Dark Side. It is ultimate attachment, and largely selfish. Anakin is merely fulfilling his desire. In the end, he chokes her. Then she dies in a really lame fashion. Her heart breaks. The only good thing to come out of it all are the children. And really, they are the result of nature more than the fruit of their love.

For me, it's refreshing to watch the original trilogy. It isn't complicated by romantic relationships, and it isn't defiled by adulterated passion. Luke is a little boy's hero.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Satan's Hands

I work at an R.V. dealership. The business is divided into two sections, the store and the shop. I work in the shop. This means I work with technicians. For all of you who know me, this must seem like an odd arrangement. I'm not a mechanical guy. It's an alien world to me. Nevertheless, I inhabit this realm. The realm of Satan's Hands.

I will call him Jack. His real name will remain a secret. Jack is my co-worker. Some of you know him as "the guy who may have killed people." Jack started about a year ago.

Jack has long brown hair. Actually, it's gray, but he dyes it brown. His hair reaches the middle of his back. He has many tattoos. They cover his arms and chest. He is in his late thirties with a 14yr old son, and a wife. He also has a mustache and short beard. Jack smokes often, and says if he goes too long without a cigarette he will hurt people. He is a social drinker, but not an alcoholic. He is about 5'10". Jack lifts weights, and is, from what I've seen, very strong. Also, he only ever wears steel toe boots.

Jack used to be in a biker gang called the Outlaws. When he started a family he wanted to get out, but the only way to do that without getting killed or severely beaten was to start his own gang (or club as he calls it). This is the origin of Satan's Hands. Satan's Hands is now composed of over 100 members (Jack claims over 200 but I think he exaggerates) . What does Satan's Hands do? Well, from what I've gathered they deal in vigilante justice. Jack shared with me a story about a guy who beat his girlfriend. Someone in the gang let them know and they tied him to a chair and beat him with hammers. Jack has told me on more than one occasion, "If you need someone taken care of, tell me." Don't worry, I don't subscribe to vigilante justice. Not now anyway. There are other stories, and more disturbing, but I'll spare you.

Jack has also done things on his own. He went to jail for shooting into a Home Depot. A woman was threatening his family somehow so he saw this as just retribution. He has ripped more than one person out of their car and beaten them. And he even tried to beat up his martial arts instructor. He says all he remembers of that is his teacher saying, "Say Goodnight". Oh, and he drove his car into his high school when the principle pissed him off. It should also be mentioned that Jack also won a million dollars in the lottery, but had to use most of that as bail money.

What is really surprising is that Jack talks with me about God and religion more than anyone at work. He's the only one. We have talked about Jesus and what the Bible says many times. Usually, Jack tells me that he's beyond forgiveness. He tells me that he needs to see a miracle before he can believe. Jack is the only person at work who wanted to read the magazine I edited, Logos. He read both issues and loved them. One time he gave me his friend's Jehovah's Witness version of the Bible and asked me to find where it's different. We talked about that for a while. Jack even shared a deeply personal story about a time in his life when he was homeless, and at the moment he was going to jump into traffic, an old friend saw him and took him in. After that, he got his life back together. I told him, "That's your miracle!" But he didn't see it that way.

Jack has a good personality. He is easy to talk to, and actually pretty bright. He always has my back at work, and more than anyone, tells me when he thinks I've done a good job. He asked me to join Satan's Hands a few weeks ago. I told him, no. The reasons should be obvious. But at least I can say that I was offered a position in a bad ass biker gang.

It's an unlikely relationship, but I get along with the leader of a bike gang called Satan's Hands. And honestly, it's kind of awesome.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Feline Ambivalence

I will now explain my position on cats; not the musical, but the animal.

First, it will help to know my history.
I grew up in the presence of a little orange cat named Pammy. She came from the mean streets of Northbridge, a tired wanderer searching for rest, and probably cat food. Finding our garage suitable, Pammy decided to set up shop and declare war on anything with four legs. She fought back encroaching rodents for over 14 years. Then, one night, I heard a group of cats fighting in the yard. The next day Pammy had cat scratches all over her face. It was the wild cats. They wanted her food, and perhaps her hunting grounds. Three days later, I found Pammy dead under a tree in the neighbor's yard.
In my late teens, another stray cat came to us. This one was black. I named it Richard before I found out she was a girl. I kept the name. Then a woman picked her up and claimed that Richard had bit her. She demanded a rabies test. Unfortunately, you have to kill the cat to perform the test. Richard didn't have rabies. But Richard was dead.

Now I'm going to throw some sentences at you!
Black cats are bad luck.
Cat tongues are like sandpaper.
When a cat rubs up against you it is marking you as territory.
A cat scratched me once.
This is Bob Barker reminding you to have your pets spayed and neutered.
There are crazy cat ladies but you've never heard of a crazy dog lady.



I have loved cats, but I mostly hate them.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Willy Wonka is a Fine Wine


How often have you re-watched a television show or movie that you loved as a child only to be awfully disappointed? I have experienced this tragedy countless times, and I'm sure you have as well. But once in a great while...from time to time... a childhood favorite becomes far more moving and meaningful after we've grown up.
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is one of these movies.


Why I Used to Love It: Every kid loves candy. To watch a movie about a magical candy factory is quite a...treat. Sure, the scenes in which the naughty children are maimed and tortured were slightly disturbing, but they deserved it. And of course I loved the songs, "I've Got a Golden Ticket" and "Pure Imagination". Charlie is the good one, and he wins in the end. This is how it should be. I was well pleased. Except that "Cheer Up Charlie" scene sucked. I always fast forwarded through it.


Why I Love It Now: After watching the Tim Burton remake, I discovered a new reason to love the original; Willy Wonka is an adult. Johnny Depp portrayed Willy Wonka as an immature man with daddy issues. Gene Wilder portrayed him as a man who at first seems eccentric and perhaps untrustworthy, but in the end reveals that he was in control of himself and his factory. He is worthy of our respect and adoration. He is worthy of Charlie just as Charlie is worthy of him and his factory.
There are a number of moving scenes that I never appreciated as a child. When it is reported that the last golden ticket has been found, the Bucket family discusses Charlie's certain disappointment. Grandpa Joe tells them not to wake the boy so he can have one last dream. And Charlie is shown to be listening in his bed with tears in his eyes.
The "Cheer Up Charlie" scene means more to me as well. After Charlie expresses to his mother that he has no chance of winning the ticket ("You can count me out!") we see a mother's hope for her son.
Look up, Charlie
You'll see a star
Just follow it and keep your dreams in view
Pretty soon the sky is going to clear up
Charlie,
Cheer up Charlie,do
Cheer up Charlie
Just be glad you're you.

By far, the most powerful scene in the film comes at the end. Charlie and Grandpa Joe have reached the end of the tour and expect Wonka to give them the lifetime supply of chocolate. Unfortunately, Wonka informs them that they broke the rules.

Watch this clip from 6:20.




All hope seems lost. Grandpa Joe reacts as any adult would. He even calls Wonka an inhuman monster. "How could you build up a little boy's hopes and then smash all his dreams to pieces?"
And finally, he tells Charlie, "If Slugworth wants a gobstopper, he'll get one."
Charlie has nothing. His family needs the money that Slugworth promised. So, when he gives Wonka his Everlasting Gobstopper it is an entirely selfless act. He gives his wordly life to Wonka, and then Wonka gives him everything.
You have to see the theological implications here. Slugworth is the devil with his promise of worldly pleasures and comfort, but Wonka is concerned with the heart of the children (just as God is with His children). Charlie loses his life to gain the kingdom (Wonka's Factory). Wonka even calls Charlie, "My Boy". The relationship between father and son.

I am now able to appreciate this film on all of these levels. It is a true classic.

Short People Got No Reason To Live

Take it away Randy Newman




This song pissed some people off when it first came out. They didn't understand that Randy Newman was commenting on how ridiculous our prejudices are. It's not like short people are actually discriminated against. Right?

Here is a link to a study that finds that tall people not only earn more on average than short people, but it also claims that tall people are smarter. (Short End)
Apparently, for every inch gained in height a person earns an average of 2% more.

Here is a link to a study that claims that tall people are happier on average. (Why Tall People Are Happier Than Short People)

It seems even nature has it out for short people. This study finds that short people are at an increased risk for heart attacks. (Short People 50% higher risk of heart attacks)

And here is another one that once again says taller people earn more, and also get more respect. (Workplace Rewards Tall People)

I found another source that reported the #1 complaints of short men and women. For women, it was a lack of respect in the workplace. For men, it was difficulty finding a romantic partner.


So what am I getting at? I'm not the shortest person in the world, but I'm certainly not the tallest. On a good day I'm 5' 6" and most of these studies consider short to be 5' 3" or less. That being said, I still deal with being short, or at least shorter than the average 5'9" male. So here are some thoughts and observations I have regarding short people.


The first thing I'd like to address is the issue of the Napoleon Complex. This basically says that short men try to compensate for their inadequacy by being overly aggressive. Little Man's Disease applies to the same concept. So when a short guy gets all red in the face you can chalk it up as some deep seeded insecurity about his stature. Like the Native American belief that inside a corn kernel is a tiny man who gets super pissed when you heat him up until he eventually explodes (I heard this once a long time ago, so I can't verify that Indians actually believed this).
Anyway, what this implies is that if a short person (especially a man) were to express frustration at being short and discriminated against, he would not be taken seriously. Even now, as I'm writing this, I'm thinking, will people draw the conclusion from all this that I'm simply insecure about my height and therefore cannot be taken seriously? Hmm.

The truth is, I'm usually perfectly content with my stature. It's not something I think about often. But, when my shortness is called out by someone, or when I have to accept that I'm not tall enough to accomplish a task that a taller person could, I do have to deal with insecurities.

Another thing I've noticed is that some women seem especially insensitive to how a man views his own stature. For instance, when a woman comments on how she is attracted to a tall man (the classic tall dark and handsome type) it's the gender equivalent of a man telling a woman with small breasts that he prefers a woman with large breasts. In my own experience I've dealt with many unintentional slights.

With the findings from these studies and my own experience I want to give a voice to my vertically challenged brethren. Victims of discrimination on all fronts, yet afraid to speak out and be labeled a little Napoleon. Caught in a cultural Catch-22.

Height is relative. Tell that to the short, lonely, sad, poor man dying of a heart attack.