Why Civil Liberties Matter...Period

When I was a teenager, I used my bike as a means of transit to get everywhere. I rode to the bookstore, the comic book store, the pool, the library, the local wetland trail, and anywhere else exceptionally nerdy. I even made the hour bike ride to school and back occasionally. This was my way of being able to find my own space and create an identity. At this stage in my life, my bicycle essentially meant everything to me that the word "freedom" could mean to a person.

Well, I had been at the library for a while—I don't remember if this was while I was working there or not—and I had locked my bike up in the racks outside. When I was done feasting on knowledge, I came back out, probably with a plastic bag full of books, to find two preppy looking adolescent punks sitting next to my bicycle. I made a move to unlock my bike, and they said to me, "Hey, you! You stole my bike. We called the cops. You need to wait here until the police come."

Now, this was a bike that I had received as a present from my parents for a birthday several years previous. I had never stolen anything in my life from anyone, ever. Not even a candy bar from the drugstore. I was incredulous. I told them what I thought of their theory, however, being terrified of authority—as I was at this point in my life—I sat down as far away in the parking lot from these kids as possible, and waited for the police.

Now, I should have just said, "Call my lawyer," and left, however, I was genuinely afraid that I was going to get in serious trouble for something that I had in no way even remotely done. Therefore, when the policeman came, I, as politely as I could muster with the blood running hot in my veins, told him what I thought of this theory that I had stolen their bicycle. Now, I did feel a tiny bit sorry for this kid, because I know how I would feel if my bike was stolen. However, any tiny bit of compassion I felt for him was erased by my overwhelming anger at being falsely accused.

The policeman asked me if there was any way that I could prove it was my bicycle, which to me seemed like the most offensive possible thing he could have said. It's not my job to prove that my personal belongings are mine. "Oh, let me get out the receipt, I have it right here in my back pocket," is what I thought, however, I thought better of it and did not say that. Instead, I described how every single scrape, ding, bend, and piece of rust accumulated on my bike. I told him about how I went over a nasty spot on the Prarie Path, and my handlebars flipped upside down. I told him how I banged my bike into a tree or some such immobile object, and that is how the insignia was bent in, et cetera ad nauseam. I went on almost at the point of tears for five minutes, describing my bicyclical misadventures, and how this bike had been given to me as a birthday present from my parents, who had bought it for me from the Sports store in Lombard on Roosevelt Road.

Anyways, finally, the cop came to his senses, and told the kids, although quite apologetically, "Listen, there is no evidence that he stole your bicycle, so I can't hold him any further." As if he felt so sorry that he had to let me go on my now quite unmerry way, because he couldn't prove that I was a bicycle thief.

It is hard enough to receive deserved criticism, but being accused of a crime you did not commit, and being backed into a corner about it was infuriating to me. That is why I freaked out when they brought the drug dogs to search our high school. Of course, the Supreme Court has said that minors legally have little if no rights, but still, it hurt. As one who had attempted to follow, to the suppression of natural teen instincts, all of the preaching that he heard in chapels and special assemblies about the evils of the flesh, it stung to be treated like a common Johnny Dopesmoker.

Now, conservatives will tell you that terrorists are motivated by pure evil. This is why they do what they do. However, if killing innocent people is THE measure of pure evil, then the terrorists really have got nothing on US, do they? The truth is that terrorism is rooted in ennui. This is NOT purely economic or even racial alienation, although it is possible these factors play an ancillary role in this process. This ennui that I am talking about is they ennui of the modern, industrialized world. I will define it in the classic German sociological terms of being the difference between Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft, the gulf between community and society.

We all have to, at some point, deal with this gulf. Some of us, like yours truly, or Snotty—who has written some tremendous posts about this lately—deal with this by posting our frustrations and disappointments right onto the internet. Some deal with this ennui by making beautiful artwork or attempting to build relationships with others, or provide for the disadvantaged or less-fortunate. They are, essentially, trying to reduce this ennui for other members of their community (Gemeinschaft). Some deal with this by demonizing a group of people—Jews, Arabs, Liberals, white people, "colored" people, etc... In fact, this merely reproduces the same ennui they themselves are experiencing in their neighbors in the greater Gesellschaft.

However, there is another sub-group of these folks, who, motivated by the hatred mentioned above, turn their ennui into violence. These are the Timothy McVeighs and Ted Kaczynskis of the world. They are the Osamas and Zarqawis of the world. And the fact is, there are only so many civil liberties you can take away from honest, god-fearing—or non-god-fearing but still honest—people that will effectively stop them from doing what they do. Surely, I don’t mind waiting in line in the airport so that my plane will not blow up mid-flight, or better yet, crash into a large building inside the Beltway. (However, when I miss my flight to Chicago because it took 20 minutes to get through security at Dulles, I can be slightly disgruntled.)

Yet, what did it take to stop the Unabomber—his brother gave him up. What would it take to catch Osama—a bunch of Waziris turning him in. What seems to be a hallmark of terrorists—people who others outwardly see as good, inwardly turning to evil. Terrorists can only do what they do when good people in their Gemeinschaft do nothing.

What about that kid whose bike was stolen? Let’s say he forgot to lock it up while he was at the Popcorn Shop (now defunct)—well then, frankly, it was his own darn fault. However, what if somebody cut through his chain and walked off with his bike? Well, if no one was around, then that’s tough. But surely, if it were in public, somebody would have seen that happen and could have told the police. Or if it happened in his neighborhood the same should be true. However, since no one represented the Gemeinschaft when it was needed, then the forces of Gesellschaft stepped in, only increasing the ennui.

If the people of the world want to "stop" terrorism (of all kinds, both indigenous and imported), they need to get some sack and start condemning violence. Fatwas like this are just the start. If the Sunnis of Iraq really want to consolidate their power, it would be in their interest to start criticizing the violence. However, the true tragedy of this situation is that since America, the personification of Gesellschaft for most human beings, has failed to demonstrate restraint in our pursuit of terrorism, it only encourages those who love violence to pursue their most dangerous game.

However, if we want to be serious about changing the way we deal with each other, we need to rebuild our communities into places where bicycle thieves don’t go unnoticed, car bombers can’t find shelter, and four nice Muslim boys don’t become radicalized by a trip to their ancestral country and meet in the shadows to plan the murder of total strangers. Then we can all keep our civil liberties.

Dino Attack® Osamasaurus

I hope that the new URL for this blog isn't too great of an inconvenience. I figured that anonymity is better than onymity.

So, ever the young boy at heart, I decided to visit LEGO.com and see what wonderful things might lay in store for me there. As a child, I used to spend hours upon hours carefully browsing all the LEGO® catalogs that I could get my hands on. However, in the last few years, I have seen LEGO® products become much more commercialized. It has been kind of disappointing that capitilism inevitably leads to the lowest common denominator, however, the new LEGO® toys can still be used in the same creative ways that we grow up using them for.

However, I have to say, I was left in wonderment at the newest LEGO® product line—Dino Attack®. If you clink on the previous link, you'll be told that the product is rolling out first in the US of A, Australia, and Japan. It seems to be a combination of Jurassic Park and the War on Terror. If you "meet the team" you'll be first introduced to Shadow, the G. Gordon Liddy of the Dino hunting world.

Shadow is the most driven member of the dino hunting squad. His home city was devastated in the first dino attack, and although his family made it to safety, his entire neighborhood was flattened. An adventurer who has been in every international hot spot, he prefers to use the Sonic Screamer first and worry about the dino's intentions later. He and Specs argue a lot over whether the team should simply be defending against dino attacks or actually tracking down dino nests and taking the fight to them.

Of course, if you click on Specs, you'll find a pissed-off LEGO® guy wearing a ski-mask. Because, we all know that liberals are worse than the terrorists. At least terrorists have values—because values means being able to morally justify mass slaughter. Well, I don't know if LEGO® is so desperate for market share that they're trying to create neo-con LEGO® guys, or if they're merely laughing at us all the way to the bank. Those Danes are thinking, "What do Americans like? Dinosaurs and powerful futuristic weapons. We'll make millions!"

Someday, I hope LEGO® makes some cool Roman lego sets. I've got some great ideas. You could have the Battlefield Ballista Team, the Super Masada Seige Ramp, the Queen Boudica Barbarian War Chariot, and the Collossal Corvus Battle Fleet. Anyways, until the time that "educational" means anything other than "self-righteously making money," the best we're going to get is the Professor Lupin's Classroom.

Dentrifical Inflation

So, I did something today that I don’t normally do. I picked up a penny off the sidewalk. Usually, this is the kind of thing I would mock Janna for doing, especially if it was hiding in the bottom of a murky puddle. However, this penny was particularly shiny, clean, and dry, and it made me think back to the old maxim, “Pick up a penny and have a day’s worth of good luck.”

So I picked it up, more as a token to help start the thought process. The reason, obviously, for saying that picking up a penny will bring a day’s worth of good luck, is that in the not too distant past, a penny could actually buy one a day’s worth of good luck. However, if one considers a minimum—and this on the bargain basement—price for a day of good luck, then I would guess, at today’s standards, a penny would buy you approximately a minute of good luck. Therefore, adjusted for inflation, the maxim should be, “Pick up a 10-spot and have a day’s worth of good luck.” However, this won’t even buy you 24 hours worth of good luck—you’d have to find at least a ten AND a five, or even better—to cover a 32-hour good luck period—one would want to find a twenty. If you take this analogy, quite possibly to its logical limit, a Benjamin will still buy you a week’s worth of good luck. Beyond that, I think, the money may be more trouble than its worth—anyone ever seen any number of cheesy comedies centered around this theme?

Well, this all occurred while walking to the dentist, at whose office, when I was but a child, I always had trouble keeping my mouth sufficiently open to the satisfaction of my dental hygienist, Pat. So, when the dentist asked me to say “ah” today, I decided to play a delightful little game with myself. And by delightful, I mean, I was unable to gnaw my arm off, so this was the closest mentally I could come to it. I tried to think of every possible monosyllabic word ending with the “ah” phoneme—and some polysyllabic ones as well—and by so mentally concentrating, I would keep my mouth in a sufficiently ajar posture. Here’s what I came up with, I’m sure Nevksy can check his scrabble dictionary to see if there are any I missed.

aw, ah, alleluia

bah, bra, blah

caw, craw, claw

draw

fah, flaw, foie gras

gaw, guffaw

haw

jaw

law

maw, ma, mama

nah

paw, pa, papa, Papua (New Guinea)

raw, Roy (Patrick or Vive le)

saw, straw, Shaw (Robert Gould)

thaw

yaw, ya

I hate going to the dentist.

Oh, apparently Boba Fett is taking the heat off Karl Rove. Make YOUR voice heard. This is a democracy, so if you speak softly you darn well better carry a big stick.

A Sunday of Fun in the Sun

Today, Janna and I went to Mt. Zion African Baptist Church. Apparently, a lot of folks who have left Trinity Episcopal have gone there; Janna was invited by someone who used to go to Trinity that works with her. What a tremendous experience—it was so dreamlike for the first hour, because it was an experience I have come close to before, but never actually fully realized en vivo. The folks there were very welcoming, and Janna and I both saw numerous people we know from elsewhere in the community.

Maybe this would be a place where I could grow spiritually at a more real level. The sermon today was an excellent critique of dualism without once mentioning the word. Rather, the sermon dealt with the subject on the most basic level. The preacher was referencing Romans 12:1 as it refers to offering the body as a living sacrifice as a spiritual act of worship. He mentioned that folks will often respond, “I’ll be with you in spirit,” when they really mean, “Forget you, I’ve got better things to do.” What a simple and profound statement.

Anyways, it seemed like a warm, welcoming place, and being from Chicago, the home of gospel music, I couldn’t get enough of the choir. Amen! Anyways, who knows, I think Janna still has her heart set on St. Paul’s.

At the pool today, I also almost finished—I have 20 pages left—Guns, Germs, and Steel, by Jared Diamond. Anyways, Mr. Diamond is not the crazed liberal out to destroy individual responsibility as Victor Davis Hanson suggests he might be.

It is a tremendous marshalling of scientific evidence to prove things that, at the end, seemed sort of self-evident to those of us who took World History 151. However, this is a rare book, because it finally gives one a comprehensive look at pre-historic and archaic human society from the end of the last major ice age circa 13,000B.C. Even if one is tempted to oppose his general historical principle of “location, location, location,” it is probably the only book I have ever read that has dared peal away the mists of pre-history to give us in such detail the story of how humans went from being the smartest of the apes, to the conquerors of the world.

In fact, Diamond is no sentimental, namby-pamby liberal. He is not afraid to describe the brutality of the hunter-gatherer world, along with all of the environmental disasters that early farmers wrought upon their own world—did you know that the Middle East used to be covered with trees? However, he is also quick to demonstrate that although hindsight is 20/20, it generally wears rose-colored glasses. He vividly demonstrates the actual real choices that societies could have made around 8000B.C., and how the history of conflicts between continent-wide racial groups was more or less pre-determined at that point.

However, according to his theories, any coastal temperate-zone Eurasian state could have eventually been world champ—except for maybe the Middle East—since they completely destroyed their environment early on into the agricultural revolution. In fact, the determining factor, once “location, location, location,” has played its part, is the principle of pluralism. This is vividly demonstrated by the contrast in the 15th century between backwater Western Europe and powerful, wealthy China. Columbus had to go to five different monarchs to get the go-ahead for his journey. Whereas, at approximately the same time—and the recent issue of National Geographic has a great story on this—the emperor of China forbade all overseas travel and dismantled his navy. However, 500 years later—which is a true drop in the bucket in the scope of this book, the Chinese are catching up, are they not?

Diamond is the first to admit that his theories about history are in no way predictive of the future, because it is quite possible the rules have completely changed, given the internet, globalization, airplanes, satellites, etc… However, this book presents a fascinating view of human history, if first you acknowledge, as Diamond does, the particular weaknesses of this kind of history. If this were Reading Rainbow, and I were Levar Burton (who I wish I was), I would say, “But don’t take my word for it,” and then segue into a bunch of precocious nerds talking about books they read. So…

Piled higher and Deeper

I, am quite excited to announce the return to blogging, after a hiatus, of Hugs O’Toole and his fraternal twin, Snotty. We have had a lovely discourse on an older post on this blog, and I’d like to make my reply to him on this post. However, I would encourage everyone to please read his comments on my post, because they are some of the most incisive I have ever received on this blog. This is written to Hugs. By the way, good to have you back, Hugs/Snotty.

Once again, as you have aptly pointed out, the part of my post about “amonotheism” is pretty much me talking out of my @$$. Therefore, I'm not going to really try and defend these ideas other than how I restated them, except for this clarification. I was trying specifically to refer to the ideologies of the French and Russian Revolutions, which both incorporated one or more fundamental concepts as a kind of moral absolute--a philosophical deity if not a theological one. I hesitate to mention even this statement, because it demands a better defense than I am prepared to give. I also did not to intend to put words in your mouth; however, I did not choose my own carefully enough to avoid that appearance, for which I apologize.

However, I would like to proceed down a different track. Before I do so, I would like to issue a caveat. The reasoning I’m about to embark on is by no means airtight, nor will I defend it to the death against all comers. If you have objections to what I’m about to say, they are most likely extremely reasonable and fair. The only thing I will insist on is that there is no one human in the universe that will be able to stand as the final judge on any profound philosophical question.

Therefore, I guess my question for you is this, if there were a truly spiritual component to the universe, how would it manifest itself in our everyday experience of the physical universe?

There are things that are somewhat more than the quotidian--the birth of a baby is the physical manifestation of the love between two people. Or there are even things out of the realm of the ordinary, such as someone suddenly being cured from cancer for no apparent medical reason, or surviving afloat in an ocean for days at a time, or seemingly divine poetic justice--a hurricane destroying Pat Robertson's broadcast center after he threatened that the same hurricanes would destroy Miami for the sins of its gay community.

There are also occurrences that are possibly scientifically inexplicable--ranging from the simple, such as déjà vu, to the truly amazing, such as children being born in California that are fluent in French, or recorded visitations by dead gurus in India.

Anyways, I know that there are plenty of things in our world that are still inexplicable or at least mysterious, and I would suggest that materially reductionist scientists, just as all of us do, prefer to look at the world from their own preconceptions.

That's why it takes people like a Swiss patent clerk or a little known British naturalist to shake up the scientific community. Not that I believe someone will one day take a telescope and discover the mind of God just three parsecs off of Andromeda, however, I think that as the more we explore physics, anthropology, and a whole host of other disciplines, the more ambiguous a purely materialistic worldview becomes.

In fact, I believe that the very power of the myth and the arts of civilization itself to influence human behavior and direct our lives is evidence of a spiritual component of sorts. For I believe that the spiritual nature of the universe is witnessed whenever something becomes greater than the sum of its parts.

For instance, hydrogen is quite exciting all by itself, however, combine it with oxygen and you have created the nectar of life. Throw in some carbon atoms, and you have the very semblance of life itself. Draw these molecules into long protein chains, organelles, cells, organs, systems, and organisms and you have something quite remarkable. Add these organisms together and you get a society. The byproducts of this society are quite amazing--industry, trades, construction, etc... However, what is quite amazing is that among humans, we not only labor on materially beneficial things, but things that seem to have no material value whatsoever—art, literature, music, dance, etc...

All these things are quite a quantum leap from their parts. If human organisms (or other biota, for that matter) were purely meant to be ones that existed on a physical plane, what would the need be for the “humanities?” What possible evolutionary advantage did cave painters gain from their activities, or shamans, bone flautists, jewelry-makers, etc… Even if we could pinpoint a specific biological origin for every human activity, the power of words, ideas, music, and art cannot be solely quantified as a particle or a wave. Even if one reduces music to sound waves that travel through the air and emotions to chemicals released from various centers in the brain, the moment of the translation between the two, even if reduced to millennia of evolutionary development and societal acculturation, is still an inexplicable instance of grace.

That connection between the mind and the body, although I believe it will someday be more fully described by science, is still mystical. Even if one can reduce a medical miracle to chemicals produced by faith in one’s own healing, that faith itself is something that, for a moment, cannot be defined, put in a box, tamed, or rationalized.

Although, as human beings, we flatter ourselves that our species has been a detriment to Mother Nature, the truth is that we are merely a detriment to ourselves. Gaia has gone through many an extinction, and may well survive the extinction of our own species. Why is global warming such a threat—because the temperature of the earth will rise a few degrees? The biosphere has been much hotter in previous eons. It is a threat to the existence of humanity. The fact that, through our arrogance and technology, we are changing the nature of our environment at a rate quite beyond our control is evidence that there is an essence to the universe more primal than our minds can move to fully comprehend.

Or take the prime mover thesis, which Bertrand Russell was so scornful of. No matter how you look at the universe there is an irreconcilable fact—something (whatever it is) exists. Now, that something is quite obviously not nothing. Therefore, either a prime mover made the universe, the universe exists due to a paradox in the fabric of space and time, or existence is merely a fundamental state of infinity. Either way, you are left with a profound mystery that cannot be unfolded any further.

Now, none of these arguments are in any reasonable way satisfactory towards proving the existence of any deity, let alone a specific one. However, I believe that they, in themselves leave an area of reasonable doubt to atheism itself. For, I believe, it is the job of the Copernici, the Einsteins, the people who find themselves out of step with human tradition to prove their case. The vast majority of human experience has born witness to a divinity or a vague spiritual realm beyond our own. So, what profound new truth do atheists, or “rationalists,”—none of whom I am claiming you are—have to share?

However, what I am asking seems unfair, because it is high near impossible to prove a negative. Yet scientific materialists—one of whom I am not claiming you are—also have a fundamental faith statement that they would like us to endorse. This faith statement, one which I find quite plausible and am willing to endorse myself, is that I can truly trust my senses, and therefore trust the senses of those around me. This statement is completely impossible to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, because, as I exist now, I can only know the things that I experience through my physical body.

Therefore, I am left with several fundamental paradoxes. If one is to doubt the existence of God, why shouldn’t one doubt our own experience of the universe? Surely philosophers from Plato all the way to the Wachowski brothers have plausibly theorized about this possibility? Also, there is the fundamental paradox of one’s own existence. “Cogito ergo sum” seems quite airtight, however that means that if I exist, I am something, and therefore something exists as opposed to nothing. That in and of itself begs the question, “Why does something exist?” which is answerable in only mysterious terms—a deity, a paradox, or the simple humanly unfathomable (not incomprehensible, but unfathomable) mystery of infinity.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

—Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I, Scene V

Everybody lies...

Some people just have others do it for them. And Bush would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those lousy kids. And reality. And reality.

If you don't believe me, read it for your darn self.

I swear, I'm a tourist, not a terrorist.

So, Aub's wedding was fantastic, and it was great to see some old friends--shout out to all the Chicagoland area folks! By the way, Amy tells me that the Chuck-blog is actually based on a real person, however, some things on that blog are made up. She even promised to continue the adventure, however, I have a feeling things may take an entirely fictional direction. By the way, now that I have made a contract with a certain website, why not try and sell a graphic novel that Amy recommended on her comic art blog?
So, here's a hearty thank you to Mom, Dad, Greg, Grandma, and anyone else who helped with the shelving in my office. I think the bookend looks very sharp, especially with the plastic Wehrmacht behind it. I'm guessing it's a battle in Northern Italy now, what with the classical architecture and all.
The people on the plane were very curious what was in my box. Of course it looked like explosives, either that or beer. In the course of smalltalk with a fellow passenger with a Cubs hat on, this man mentioned that he had gone to Wrigley Field merely for the experience, regularly being an Orioles fan. I replied, "Well, now you can die happy." Fortunately, the TSA did not whisk me away. Also, for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of seeing my new hairstyle, boy, do I ever look good. Someone on the plane said, "Chester Arthur...right?" When you put it that way, how could you ever be wrong?
Oh, I went to see the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie with the fam. I was very creeped out by Gene Wilder in the original movie adaptation. I had that childlike sense of indignation when I realized that he was nothing like how I imagined him in the book. Johnny Depp was wierd in this movie, and equally different from my imagination, yet this one worked for me. However, if you work or live anywhere near children, wait to see this on the next bus trip or sleepover.

What are you looking at?

So, Joel had a good post about overactive blogging with which I could readily identify. I of course, am taking the summer off, and have nothing better to do than read, write, and watch movies. (Well, I actually do, but that is besides the point.) So, my apologies if I blog too much, but I consider this to be my free therapy. All y'all have the privilege of seeing my interior world, and what a privilege it is! Anyways, I'm going to be attending the incomparable Aubrey and Paul's wedding in Chicago this weekend, so I think I'll use that as an opportunity to take a Sabbath from my blog.

In high school, I often asked myself this question--"In a society which has institutionalized rebellion, what would a true rebel look like?" My answer, of course, was a conformist. However, in this society, how would this conformist conform?
Well, I have since nuanced my answer to this question, and I believe I have found the perfect answer. Now, most of you know that I play at Christianity. I go to church; I even work at a Christian school; I attmpt to make profound pronouncements about the proper Christian attitude of the relationship between body and soul on this website. However, the movie Rize challenged my definition of what it means to be a Christian. The folks in this documentary have a visceral understanding of what the love of Jesus means. I may have the same faith that these folks have, but I am hard-pressed to see how it acts out in my life in such a profound way.
Now, before I ruin this movie by making it out to be a Christian (and therefore sacred and not secular) movie, let me make this clear, this movie has no ideological or theological agenda. It merely seeks to portray the new dance movement from Los Angeles which includes "Clownin'" and "Krumpin.'" The dance in this movie is the most compelling I have seen ever. This is a wild new form of hip-hop dance which tries to break away from the "gangsta" image that has defined the genre up to this point. This movie is ten times better than 8 Mile, which was a passably good introduction to the forgotten plight of the inner city. This is also a movie whose soundtrack is worth owning.

The International Communist Conspiracy

That is, as opposed to, say, the International Capitilist Conspiracy. Brian linked to this amazing comic book that was put out in the 1960s by the Catholic Church and J. Edgar Hoover. I'd call them "strange bedfellows," but I'm afraid the implications of that term are all too literal. Anyways, as Brian said, "I couldn't stop clicking."
Some highlights--

• The Communists move the capital of America to Chicago.


• The American Communists all dress like Nazis.


• Best quote-"If I and my fellow Americans had only realized how horrible Communism really is..."

Of course, the opposite of Communism is Libertarianism, which you can get in spades from Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Last night I watched The Passion of the Jew which is a compilation of three South Park episodes dealing with Christianity. The actual "Passion of the Jew" episode was funny, but of the three episodes, the one that does the best job of lampooning religious buffoonery is "Christian Rock Hard," in which episode Cartman fronts a Christian rock band, Faith + 1, and sends it straight to the top by singing songs about his sexual desire for Jesus. For anyone who has been following Meg's discussion of the abusive nature of fundamentalism, the "Passion of the Jew" episode is a perfect counterpoint. Of course, the episode "Red Hot Catholic Love," does a decent job of lampooning the whole molestation crisis without resorting to a complete denunciation of all organized religion ever. Of course, being that all of these are South Park episodes, expect the requisite crude language, humor, and situations that are typically associated with the genre.

And a final note, for any who may have been wondering. Yes, I've gone totally corporate with this blog. It is my goal to someday, possibly in 2012, to earn a $10.00 gift certificate to Amazon.com through my blog. The plumbers just finished their $2.5K demolishing and remolishing of my front yard, so I'm more attuned to the value of a gift certificate right now.

Librarians have a stiff upper lip

TIME had a great editorial about the famous British stiff upper lip. This was a great quote in that same tradition from the Washington Post today. A neighbor of one suicide bomber said, "They are selfish, inconsiderate cowards." I think that is a fair description of someone who violently imposes their metaphysical beliefs on a crowded rush-hour bus.

So, yesterday I had a plumber come by to fix the toilet and look at the growing puddle in the front yard. Well, today they are going to do a $2500 repair job on our connection to the city water lines. Oh, the joys of homeownership! So since I am sitting here and waiting for various people to come spray paint my lawn, I thought I'd take up Joel and Tom's challenge and write up the five books I chose as the most personally life-changing.

1) D'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths
This charming book was written by a husband and wife team and has wonderful illustrations. It is the official primer for the National Mythology Exam and is probably the best way to introduce 9-13 year olds to mythology. I read it in Middle School and thoroughly enjoyed it. It opened up for me a whole new world of pre-modern historical imagination, which only continued to grow as I studied Latin and Greek.

2) Isaac Asimov's Foundation Series
I started reading Isaac Asimov in Middle School, and I believe I read all of his science fiction books that the Wheaton Public Library and my school library had. His "hard" science fiction appealed to my somewhat incredulous mind, especially in my atheist/agnostic, communist phase of life. However, Asimov's unapologetic humanism and benign view of technology have greatly effected the basic assumptions of my worldview. That's why I can never see the movie, I, Robot, ever.

3) Point Counter Point (Aldous Huxley)
As Tom mentioned, the book of Ecclesiastes is particulary profound, in that it opens one to the possibility that the world is a wonderfully messed up place. Huxley uses the word "pervert" in this book as we might use the word "geek" or "aficionado." What he is attempting to criticize is someone who puts something out of its place in the universe--I might even dare to call it "idolatry." For instance, he suggests nobody should be a "politics pervert," a "relationship pervert," or even a "Jesus pervert." Although I may take some exception with the last one, his point is well-made. His thoughts follow logically from Unamuno.

4) American Sphinx (Joseph Ellis)
I find the South to be much more emotionally claustrophobic than the Midwest. On top of that, I live in TJ's hometown--there is even a Unitarian Church named after our patron saint. Therefore, there is a tremendous amount of ridiculous energy expended in considering Jefferson's legacy. Hating on TJ is just another way for me to maintain my Yankee pride in a sea of Confederates. However, more seriously, both Adams and Jefferson majorly screwed up in many ways, but both managed to make some pretty impressive contributions to our North American Republic. Also, the unexamined life isn't worth living. Plus this book's sequel is just as good.

5) Libro de Buen Amor (Juan Ruiz?)
I read this book in my Medieval Iberian Literature class last fall. I consider the Modern Era to be a Dark Age of faith, creativity, and imagination. This was another bridge for me to cross from a world of absolutes and Scottish Common Sense Philosophy to a place where unicorns, demons, and sultry shepherdesses lurk behind every rock and tree. I used the word "numinous" in my paper for that class approx. 4 billion times.

These choices were written in order of consumption. However, I'd like to share an honorable mention that I read while I was an undergrad...
Honorable Mention) The Pilgrim's Regress (C.S. Lewis)
This book woke me up to the fact that the whole time I thought my relationship with God was being ruined by my increasing fascination with paganism, I was totally wrong. I can't express in words how profound reading this book was to me. All I can say is that it took me from an intellectual boy to an intellectual man. Now I'm just waiting for my sense of humor to catch up.

Let me get this straight...

So, I remember, and I know this was a really long time ago, that the White House press corps used to be in to digging up scandals and obfuscations by politicians. I don't think we need to go back to the era of Woodward and Bernstein to find examples of this. Even in my own lifetime I remember "travelgate," "whitewatergate," "Monica-giving-Bill-a-BJ-and-then-Bill-questioning-the-definition-of-the-'be'-verb-gate." I even remember some reporters being curious about Vince Foster and Ron Brown. I also remember some White House press reporters trying to get to the bottom of Hillary's hair style.
I can even remember while George W. Bush was lying his way through the 2000 primaries, or sending Rove out to do the same, some reporters were quite scornful of Al Gore's misquoted comments about the internet, whom, I believe, the Webby people gave an award recently for his advocacy of the internet in its early years.
Of course, if George W. Bush lied about one of his staffers committing treason, this would not be as serious as Bill lying about getting a BJ on the sly. However, the fact stands that Karl Rove has not been above impugning opponents' honorable war records, implying that opponents are homosexuals, putting opponents in jail, and my favorite, planting a bug in his own office and then having his best buddy, who happens to work at the FBI, investigate the whole matter.
However, let's keep in mind that the Republican party is the party of "moral values" and "defending America." This administration is also very supportive of personal responsibility and citizenship. So this means that they can't take personal responsibility for the failures of their administration, because personal responsibility only belongs to the peons without healthcare. Also, it is very important to remember that if Karl Rove or Donald Rumsfeld were to tender their resignations, that would mean that the terrorists have won.
Of course, when many in Washington were clambering for the sacking of General McClellan, Lincoln stood by his man. He did the same for Generals McDowell, Pope, Hooker, Burnside, and Meade. Because, when someone has proven their incompetence in a job, the best thing to do is let them keep doing it.
Okay, here's another great story. Remember when the South fired on Fort Sumter? Well, after Lincoln called for 100,000 volunteers, Secretary of State Seward suggested invading Canada, a strategy that had worked wonders during the Revolution and War of 1812--just ask a Canadian. Lincoln told Seward, "One war at a time." Of course, Lincoln was a defeatist, liberal communist, however there is a very nice memorial to him on the mall in D.C.

I join the Church of Scientologya lapsed Calvinist movie review with three points

No, of course I wouldn't join the "Church" of Scientology; not unless they could prove that L. Ron Hubbard wasn't a looped-out megalomaniac and actually knew the mind of God. Even then, I'd still have some questions.
Okay, I swear, I do actually know how to read. In fact, I read several good books this week. But, for some reason, and it may be the fact that I am extremely biased towards being an auditory learner, movies turn my gears a little faster. So that's what I write about on my blog--shoot, I'm being defensive.
John and I went to see Πολεμος των Κοσμων. I have three major points, due to my Calvinist upbringing, that I'd like to share.

It's "dark"

This is an adjective used way too frequently to describe movies, books, or other media. The phrase, "X is much darker than the previous X," has been used to describe Harry Potter, Star Wars, War of the Worlds, Martha Stewart's new show, and George W. Bush. However, what do people mean when they say this? I think they mean that a certain work of literature deals with realities, emotions, and people who strike us as being somehow unpleasant or distasteful.
Now, this is a symbol of the dualism which pervades our modern culture, a movie is either "dark," which automatically gives it artistic credit, or "light" which means it is designed to win popular approval. This dichotomy is comforting to us--see Melinda and Melinda.
In fact, a parent at my school was able to keep his child from reading Night by Elie Wiesel because of a complaint that the literature that we teach is too "dark." Well, this is the thing, when you truly attempt to sift the good from the bad in our culture, you must be able to recognize the bad. It wasn't just the tree of the knowledge of good--Adam and Eve already had that. It was the knowledge of good AND evil. Anyways, I generally tend to discount this description of a movie, and I often find that my enjoyment of the movie is improved thereby.

It's "apocalyptic"

Of course, we move straight from dualism into apocalypticism. However, when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. In Viking Mythology, there is no one "good" god that fights against one "bad" god, therefore in Valhalla, after hacking away at each other all day, the warriors rise from where they fall to go to the mead hall to celebrate the daytime's glorious conquest. In Egyptian mythology, although the Pharaoh is represented by Horus, the good guy, every Pharaoh has a name corresponding to both Horus and Seth, the bad guy. In fact, it is the Pharaoh's responsibility to maintain ma'at which is translatable as "truth," "justice," "harmony," or "balance."
Now, let's throw monotheism into the picture. When Akhenaten introduced this concept to Egypt for approximately 15 years, it was the first of many "cultural revolutions" in which the bad old days must be destroyed in place of the new good revolutionary ideas. Think Oliver Cromwell, le Comité de Salut Public, the totalitarian ideologies of the 20th century, etc...
(In fact, I believe that atheism is merely another form of monotheism. Modern atheists only disbelieve in one god. Think about it, if you don't believe in one god in a polytheistic system, then there are still several thousand, give or take a few, for you to believe in. Socrates had to drink hemlock for promoting a belief in only one god, rather than many.)
Therefore, it is monotheism and amonotheism that creates apocalypticism in Old World mythology--let's not drag the various autochtonous American mythologies into this. Even though the Hindus believe in a cyclical history, their apocalypse is many millions of years away. Monotheism creates the sense that one is living in the end times. Here's how it works...

1. There is only one God.


2. God is beneficent.


3. There is bad in the world.


4. A good God will get rid of the bad.


5. This is going to happen any day now.

Now, of course, Jesus was both critical of and friendly to this variety of monotheism. That's why there is a delicate dance in Christianity. There is the need to make peace with the world, and to be ready to destroy it. This is the same tension between the rock upon which Christ will build his church and the cornerstone which the builders have rejected. It is the inherent tension of the burning bush.
Now, the ironic thing is, that we are in the modern age, since we have amonotheism as the major philosophical system of entertainment, apocalypse movies are about stopping the apocalypse. Even the ostensibly Christian, however, excreable TV series, Revelations involved stopping the "end of days."
Yet, how does one stop the apocalypse, the inexorable end of days? The answer--through a ridiculous and wholly unbelievable plot twist. And when it is an apocalypsis per alienos, the unbelievable plot deserves the most unbelievable twists. This brings us to the third and semi-final point.

It's got a deus ex machina
MULTIPLE MOVIE SPOILER ALERTS,
but I'll try not to ruin War of the Worlds for anyone who has never read Ray Bradbury

In Mars Attacks Tom Jones' singing makes the Martians heads explode--at least that was funny.
In Signs the aliens apparently can't handle contact with water, although they were invading a planet 70% of whose surface is covered by it. Yet, the real twist to the movie is that the movie is not about aliens at all, but actually about faith.
According to John, in Evolution the aliens are brought down by a liberal spraying of dandruff shampoo. Let's face it, this movie counted on Seann William Scott to lend it gravitas.
In War of the Worlds the aliens are doomed in the same way they were in Bradbury's Martian Chronicles. It's the ultimate home court advantage. I shall say no more.

It's evolutionary
denoument and conclusion
this is a not a fourth point

I believe this movie, as suggested to me by the pre-movie advertisements, is the third in Spielberg's Alien Trilogy--Close Encounters Of The Third Kind, E.T., and now this movie. The three trilogies each deal with the life stages of the human in the riddle of the Sphinx. Of course, the answer to the riddle is the meaning of life. However, in each of these stages, Spielberg places the protagonist in a different stage to help amplify the pathos for all of us.
In the morning, as we walk on four legs, we are curious about the world around us. This curiousity is both dangerous and vital to our development as humans. We are driven to encounter our worlds in a meaningful way. Richard Dreyfuss was acting much like an infant, because that's what he was, an infant exploring his wondrous universe.
In the afternoon, as we walk on two legs, we learn to protect and nourish those in our community. Parents care for children, the community takes care of itself. Elliot, although a child, cares for E.T. the way a parent would care for a child.
In the evening, as we walk on three legs, we learn to face death. Tom Cruise, although only middle-aged, is only able to survive his ordeal when he accepts the inevitability of death.
Now, for those amonotheists among us who see nothing beyond the grave, I can understand why this movie might be "dark" and "apocalyptic," however, it was vaguely entertaining, and in so much as the movie is about the acceptance of the inexorability of death and not about aliens, it's about as good as Signs.
Oh, by the by, the special effects are stinking amazing!

Thanks for making me feel special

I would just like to thank everyone who came to my party yesterday! I'm especially grateful that my birthday-mate and great neighbor, Judy, was able to make it. Yet, my heart was warmed that a whole bunch of my friends, neighbors, co-workers, and just general gosh-darn good people were willing to make the trek out to the little duplex that could. The outpouring of alcoholic beverages was even more greatly appreciated. (And Nev, now that I have my own đ@мŋ olive oil, Janna can't tell me to use the boring old vegetable oil instead for economic want.)
It made me feel cool that I could actually produce edible substances on the grill and in my brand new Martha Stewart® angel-food cake tin. It was also such a pleasure that you guys--especially, little Cassidy--tut-tutted over my turtles like they were something special. However, most of all, it made me feel special that you all care enough to come out and say (and sing, thanks Ina!) "Happy Birthday."
Anyways, thanks for caring and have a great weekend.

:) 

Hey @$$holes, terrorize this

Terrorism doesn't work the same way as international sanctions. The way to change policies is to put the screws on the top dogs, not on the average Nijel Underground. The worst thing that's going to happen to W. is that he is going to fall off his bicycle. (Thanks new blog friend, I enjoyed your blog.) Tony Blair is untouchable, he's been re-elected more times than Churchill. In fact, I'm more scared of my own government drafting me and sending me to Fallujah than I am of some ©Ø©ж blowing himself up to earn extra houris in the afterlife. Actually, I'm more scared of a deer jumping in front of my car, getting struck by lightning, eaten by a giant squid, crushed by a meteorite, or being smothered to death in a river of chocolate in Willy Wonka's factory.


The fact of the matter is, terrorists are not that scary. I challenge a terrorist to come to my house and kill me. Besides allowing my wife to cash in on my 50K life insurance, what will they be able to say that they have accomplished? (By the way, when I die, I want all my usable organs to go to people, and I want my ashes turned into a diamond.)
Seriously, it's just like when my parents told me that the bugs are more afraid of me than I was of them (which didn't seem insectoidally possible--however, we won't go into that). It's the terrorists that are scared. They are scared of a world in which other ideas besides their own are tolerated. They are scared that they won't be able to find a job, make ends meet, or appear like a man before their family. They are scared that they won't make it into heaven, that Allah doesn't really like them, or that their beard isn't sexy enough. They are scared that Jews are going to eat all their babies and rape their women.
They are scared, irrational, and don't know where to turn. I know, as a teacher, that the best way to handle that situation is to be calm, reasonable, and reassuring. The worst way is to back those folks in a corner, be belligerent, and get personal.
Peace is not only the answer, it's the only answer.

The Battle of Megiddo

So, as Tom noted, this summer just got a little hotter.
I was listening to NPR today, and Talk of the Nation had a show about the coming battle. Based on that show, and the principle--if you can't beat 'em, join 'em--I have created a quiz for you to understand what kind of judicial conservative you would be. That way, you can discover common ground with the coming conservative nominee, or fire up your righteous indignation at the different stripe of conservative this fellow or lady fellow is.
Post the results on your website, here are mine.

You scored as pragmatist. Pragmatists care about the result of their decisions. They often ask questions about what will happen if a certain decision is made. Sandra Day O'Connor was the best example of this kind of judge. pragmatist 80% traditionalist 65% textualist 55% libertarian 50% judicial deferent 10% What type of judicial conservative are you? created with QuizFarm.com

civilization and its discongruities

Janna and I saw Mad Hot Ballroom Saturday afternoon. Accurately described as a cross between Spellbound and Strictly Ballroom it was obviously meant to tug at the heart strings. However, it was more than just an introduction into the unique and interesting world of a particular kind of adolescent geek, and it was more than a dancing movie. Rather, it was a movie about the battle for civility. As one of the principals pointed out, the dance program was not merely teaching the children about dance but, "manners,...life; it's everything."


Of course, the intriguing part of the movie to me was the construction of a moral universe for these not-even adolescents. There was the ever delicate balance between demanding excellence and encouraging emotional competency. Of course, the two shouldn't necessarily be mutually exclusive, as I believe most of the teachers in the film displayed. In fact, the film beautifully demonstrates that the classroom must be a moderately stressful environment. It needs to teach kids how to accomplish goals, yet not overwhelm them with their failures and frustrations.
In effect, this film is about education in the most basic sense of the word, leading children out of ignorance and depravity towards knowledge and virtue. This same theme showed up in the movie we saw at The Jefferson tonight, The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou. I thought the basic theme of the movie is the recognition of morality and its intergenerational dynamics.
Now, don't get me wrong, I think Wes Anderson did a much better job with Rushmore and possibly The Royal Tenenbaums. However, I felt like there was an almost allegorical clavis to be found in this movie more than his others.


Here's my thesis, feel free to tell me I'm full of **it. The intergenerational interaction between Steve and his many "sons" in the movie is intended to be understood at a human emotional level, but also as a metaphor for Western culture as it transitions from the last "modern" generation of the Baby Boom, to the "post-modern" Generation X. In the "modern" era, people believed in vague notions of "progress" and "science," which were often merely self-righteous romantic fantasies. However, this "modern" morality preferred to speak of social justice rather than personal responsibility. This process, somewhat paradoxically, was conducted by becoming extremely sensitive to one's own emotions (i.e. Steve Zissou) to a certain degree of self-righteousness. However, as the dark and destructive side of this swaggering new social morality became more apparent, our culture has awakened to the necessity of instilling individual moral values in youth.
Now, please don't take this clavis too seriously, however, I believe certain things and characters in this film represent greater ideas and generations in society. I believe that the Belafonte represents the sort of communal (planned) economics which reached its ideological zenith in the 1970s and saw the beginning of its demise under the Reagans and Thatchers of the world. Hennessey and his ship represent the opposite--the kind of market forces which are running the world more and more these days. These can be in the difference between the ancient, constantly failing equipment of the Belafonte, and the new gleaming outfitting of the Hennessey.
Steve, Eleanor, and the rest of the old team represent the Baby Boom generation, whereas Ned, Jane, the Interns and Klaus's nephew represent Generation X and beyond. The pirates possibly represent the forces fighting against colonialism in the Cold War period.
The scene which holds this whole thesis together is the scene on the deck, where part of the the Interns and Anne-Marie (the stripper) decide to leave the Belafonte and Zissou behind. Of course, this is an interesting moral dilemma. It is due to Steve's immoral and selfish behavior that he has gotten himself into such trouble. Therefore, these conscientious objectors are within their moral rights to leave the crew behind. However, those that stay are also demonstrating the moral values of courage and loyalty. Therefore at this point, there is a moral choice to be made, and no one in the film can escape it, although they all, in some way, make a "good" decision.
The crisis of the film is the loss of Esteban, who of course is a father figure to Zissou and possibly represents the so-called "greatest generation." The moral vacuum left by his death, of course, is the conflict of the movie. At the end of the film, Steve comes to grips with the fact that he is a father, however, as hinted, possibly not a biological one. He understands the moral nature of this situation, and carries Klaus's nephew on his shoulders in an allegorical way of picking up this ethical burden. In fact, Jane's struggle to stop swearing, smoking, and drinking throughout the film demonstrate this theme.
As society became increasingly "modernized" by technology in the 20th century, some believed that we could do away with individual morality entirely--that it could be replaced by pills, machines, and science. However, in the 21st century, we realize that human beings must be moral or civil society is destroyed. It is this struggle for civility that defines our times.
Well, there was more than a healthy dose of bull$ђ!+ in this post, but these are my thoughts and this is my own đ@мŋ blog. Peace.

Okay, once I went to bed last night, I asked myself, "What does the Jaguar Shark represent in your schema?" Well, the answer came to me like a thunderbolt--the knowledge of good and evil, life and death. It represents the absolute kind of truth that we are all going to bump up against more or less rudely throughout our lives. People fail us; they are weak, and then, they die. This knowledge of this truth is what the Jaguar Shark represents.
And yes, it is impossible for me to stop thinking like a teacher...ever. Di immortales!

Kalendis Iuliis

Well, I thought about making this post early in the morning today, just so I could see that July 2005 in my archives, but I was too tired, so I went to bed.

In my Latin IB class, the first project I assign is to choose a month of the year, and make a small poster of a Latin calendar for that month and its festivals. Of course everyone chooses their birth month--what other month would have that kind of personal significance? Anyways, the word "Calendar" comes from the Latin word "Kalendae" which in turn comes from the archaic Latin word "calare" which means "to call." The Kalends (Kalendae) were the first day of the month on which the priests would call out all the festivals for the month. Well, for me, July will always be a month of birthdays--

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

July 4--my cousin Jon, my friend John from C-ville, the U.S. of A!
July 6--this person whose entertaining blog I found by pressing the infamous "Next Blog" button
July 8--my neighbor Judy and I
July 12 or 13?--Julius Caesar
July 15--my nephew Levi
July 28--my friend Nate from Wheaton
July 31--last, but not least, my pops, whose love and support has made me who I am today, although he may want to blame that on Star Trek.

Anyways, more about random blogs. MSN has a neat feature called, "What's Your Story," that will lead one to less-than-random interesting blogs on their own service. That's how I found this blog which looks like it may have been crushed under all the traffic directed towards it. I must say, that when I first heard of the concept of a "web log" or "blog" from NPR, I scoffed. I thought, "Self, isn't that the most narcissistic thing you've ever heard of." However, as we know, I am an eternal narcissist, so here we are today.

Now, Phil challenged us, on Meg's blog to further discuss the voice of God. My previous cheeky comment aside,...

Sometimes the voice of God tells me, "Go unto the King of Burgers and order thineself a whopper." Then, I hear the voice of my wife saying, "Thine arteries shall harden and thou shalt die an early death of hereditary heart disease." Then God says, "Flip a coin, you're going to die anyways."

...this is a somewhat serious topic to anyone who claims to have any variety of religious faith.
I guess, here is the best analogy that I could make. Janna told this to me at Sticks yesterday. She is taking yoga, and since she and another young gentlemen are the only ones that attend the class with any regularity, the teacher decided to go into greater detail with them. One of the things that Janna said was that someone who really practices yoga is constantly walking around with good posture and an air of peace. This is definitely true about Janna, I've never seen someone stand more beautifully in my life.
If someone really spends silent time listening to God (or silent time stretching to him (e.g. yoga), then one will be more likely to be walking around exemplifying the fruit of the spirit, loving their neighbor, etc... Listening to God's voice in this way, I believe, is the most important way in which this is meant. However, I think that in terms of making major policy/theological/life decisions, I believe this is more dangerous territory.
I actually have much respect for my sister, who narrowed down her grad school choices to about three, put them in a hat, prayed over them, and picked at random the school she then attended. In fact, I think this is the perfect example to illustrate what I mean. God created us in the garden of Eden with a choice. The sole reason the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was there was to make us elective creatures.
Therefore, I believe, as we constantly make choices throughout the day, we are not going to offend God, necessarily, by what toothpaste we buy, or what restaurant we eat at, or necessarily even what career we choose. (Jesus minisitered to prostitutes and colonial collaborators alike.) Therefore, I think it is far more important how we do what we choose (lovingly and excellently), than what we choose to do.
I believe, whether we choose Reaganomics or Socialism, Calvinism or Arminianism, Teaching or Fighting, God can be pleased with our lives. In this spirit, my sister made an active election, in choosing three or so schools based on criteria that were important to her, and then she offered it up to God, demonstrating God's ultimate control over our lives.
Within this perfect paradox lies the truth. God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-loving, yet she gives us the power to make choices. In my view, there is no greater freedom than to live a life defined by a paradox.