When I was growing up, my parents had a Christmas tree ornament that would chirp like a bird every five seconds. To whoever bought it, this must have been a mildly entertaining amusement. In the hands of myself and my brothers, it was an instrument of the keenest torture.
We would hide the ornament some place near the tree but maddeningly out of sight, plug it in and then take the dog out for a walk. By the time we returned, the entire house would have been turned upside-down in a futile attempt to find the ornament and stop the chirp-chirp-chirping before it drove everyone mad.
Remember how the steady drip of water is said to break the mind of even the strongest prisoner? Compared to Tweety, it's a dip in the kiddie pool. The tolling of the Edgar Allen Poe's bells, bells, bells that fills the city with fear? A light tinkling of brass.
This ornament was the surest way to drive anyone to the brink of madness, and we all used it to that end for many years. At last Tweety took a mysterious trip out of the house in the bottom of the wastebasket and was seen no more. For the first time in years, there was something resembling peace in the Learn household on Christmas Day.
In the aftermath, we all agreed on one important point: That was as bad as it got. There was no Christmas ornament imaginable that could top the bulb for pure irritation.
Fortunately, for those of us who revel in irritating one another, there is good news. The good people at research and development have not stopped producing new Christmas decorations. Whether it's inflatable Santas of nightmarish proportions who threaten to block out the sun, or a singing and dancing Grinch, the opportunities to irritate brothers, to annoy friends and to scar young children for life are better than ever.
Let's start with the inflatable colossus now seen in front yards across the state. There are those who, correctly believing a 900-foot blow-up ornament to be tacky, see no use for the thing. The problem here is not with a snowman big enough to qualify for its own ZIP code, it is a lack of imagination.
Gemmy, which markets the inflatable mammoths, sells no fewer than 47 of them on its Web site. In addition to the Santa and snowman monoliths, the collection features other holiday stalwarts like Scooby Doo and SpongeBob SquarePants. As a special literary treat, the assortment also includes something that once might have been a reindeer before it stumbled upon the secret isle of Dr. Moreau.
A smaller one nicely blocks all view of the street from your front windows. Plant one of the larger models out front, and you'll have complete privacy and may not be able to see the sun. Pesky neighbors, uninvited relatives and bill collectors won't be able to find your house. Best of all, you'll be providing the perfect cover for the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man if he ever comes to town.
For maximum scare effect, set up some lighting behind the beastie — this works especially well with the unfortunate reindeer — and wait until dark. Now as little Timmy comes over to see if your son can play, turn the lights on, give the goliath a push and make the appropriate growl from deep in your throat. Watch as little Timmy jumps into the air and runs around the front yard three times before conking out under the oak tree. This is the life.
True, you can still get fairly traditional Christmas decorations like a light-up snowman, but why would you want to? They're not nearly as much fun.
From time to time, despite your best interventions, someone will make it inside the house. Your children, for example. For maximum damage, and to give them something interesting to tell their therapists in 30 years, it's important to go for the big guns.
First, get the kids as they come in the door with a 5-foot Dancing Grinch. There's no better way to keep the Christmas spirit than to have the Grinch twisting away and crooning the words to his theme song. Better yet, flank the door with the Grinch and his partner in crime, a 5-foot bear who sings your favorite Christmas jingles from hell, including "Winter Wonderland," "Up on the Rooftop" and "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year."
Next fill the house liberally with more musical toys. For $13, you can get a Holiday Time Sing and Dance Santa who joyfully croons, "I'm Santa Claus" to the tune of "The Wanderer" like a woebegotten Deion Sanders. Other marvels include a singing dog who howls his way through "O Christmas Tree" and "Deck the Halls," and a Coca-Cola polar bear who wails on the saxophone in a way to make even the staunchest Republican yearn for the days of President Clinton's inaugural performance.
Don't worry — even if they play the same song, they're guaranteed to play it at slightly different pitches and slightly different speeds.
Even though everyone knows what will happen, no one can resist the siren call of the buttons that activate the singing. If you're really good with eBay, you might be able to dig up one of the motion-activated talking Christmas trees from the early 1990s. In no time at all, you'll be creating Christmas memories that will last a lifetime.
If you're lucky, you might even survive the experience.
Friday, December 24, 2004
Monday, December 20, 2004
harry potter and magic
I've pointed out to some people that the magic in Harry Potter has no resemblance to actual magick as it is practiced in the real world. (It includes ingredients such as powdered unicorn horn, phoenix feathers, and similarly fantastic ingredients. I mean, really, if we're going to be that wary of Harry Potter, we need to be wary of Greco-Roman mythology too.) The main magic of Harry Potter is the imagination that it fires in its readers, a witchcraft we need more of.
A second point is the virtues it teaches. Children who read Harry Potter are going to see courage, loyalty, friendship and sacrificial love played out in a very dramatic and believable way. It's easier for us to believe in virtue and bravery when we've seen them lived out, even if the person living them out was fictional.
Third, Harry Potter (like any good fantasy) awakens in all of us an awareness of the spiritual world. I'd say that's important in a world as material as ours. The person who is dead to the spiritual world and lives consumed with thoughts of daily bread and self-indulgence is not a person who is going to think about the sublime wonders that surround him on a day-to-day basis, and will forget Beauty and other spiritual things. A person who is aware of the spirit also is open to the Spirit.
Fourthly, I stress the Christian imagery contained in the novels. I have no idea if that's deliberate on Rowling's part, or if it's just because she's writing within a culture that has over two thousand years of Christian influence and in a language shaped by the Bible, but either way there's some heady stuff, such as the way Harry's mother died to save him, thus destroying Voldemort's reign of terror and giving Harry an immunity to Voldemort (sacrificial love that parallels Christ's sacrifice.) In "Chamber of Secrets," there's even more symbolism, as Harry descends into Tom Riddle (Voldemort's) lair to save Ginny Weasley, fights and defeats a basilisk, drawing aid and comfort by professing his faith in Albus Dumbledore.
Lastly, I just accept that some people are going to disagree. I knew one woman who was aghast that I saw nothing wrong with Spider-man. (He walks on walls.) That's their prerogative. When my grandmother saw me reading comic books, and expressed her disapproval to my mother, my mom responded that at least I was reading. I've applied that principle myself a few times: You raised me, and now I'm raising my children.
If I'm feeling really ornery, I might point out that people who are scared of being led into the occult by the Harry Potter novels probably should stay away from the Bible. In just the first 50 chapters, I find people engaging in adultery, incest, rape, genocide, rank deceit, murder, inhospitality and attempted fratricide. This is a pattern of behavior that repeats throughout the rest of canon, with the worst offenders often held up as role models.
In other words, it's a meaningless objection.
A second point is the virtues it teaches. Children who read Harry Potter are going to see courage, loyalty, friendship and sacrificial love played out in a very dramatic and believable way. It's easier for us to believe in virtue and bravery when we've seen them lived out, even if the person living them out was fictional.
Third, Harry Potter (like any good fantasy) awakens in all of us an awareness of the spiritual world. I'd say that's important in a world as material as ours. The person who is dead to the spiritual world and lives consumed with thoughts of daily bread and self-indulgence is not a person who is going to think about the sublime wonders that surround him on a day-to-day basis, and will forget Beauty and other spiritual things. A person who is aware of the spirit also is open to the Spirit.
Fourthly, I stress the Christian imagery contained in the novels. I have no idea if that's deliberate on Rowling's part, or if it's just because she's writing within a culture that has over two thousand years of Christian influence and in a language shaped by the Bible, but either way there's some heady stuff, such as the way Harry's mother died to save him, thus destroying Voldemort's reign of terror and giving Harry an immunity to Voldemort (sacrificial love that parallels Christ's sacrifice.) In "Chamber of Secrets," there's even more symbolism, as Harry descends into Tom Riddle (Voldemort's) lair to save Ginny Weasley, fights and defeats a basilisk, drawing aid and comfort by professing his faith in Albus Dumbledore.
Lastly, I just accept that some people are going to disagree. I knew one woman who was aghast that I saw nothing wrong with Spider-man. (He walks on walls.) That's their prerogative. When my grandmother saw me reading comic books, and expressed her disapproval to my mother, my mom responded that at least I was reading. I've applied that principle myself a few times: You raised me, and now I'm raising my children.
If I'm feeling really ornery, I might point out that people who are scared of being led into the occult by the Harry Potter novels probably should stay away from the Bible. In just the first 50 chapters, I find people engaging in adultery, incest, rape, genocide, rank deceit, murder, inhospitality and attempted fratricide. This is a pattern of behavior that repeats throughout the rest of canon, with the worst offenders often held up as role models.
In other words, it's a meaningless objection.
Sunday, December 19, 2004
A post of no value
About two weeks ago, we were at a birthday party for the son of some friends ours, and the son's older sisters and cousins were putting on makeup. Evangeline asked what it was, they told her, and the look on her face remained utterly clueless.
My wife doesn't wear any makeup, so naturally Evangeline has virtually no interest in it.
I find the idea of makeup to be generally gross, but it doesn't bother me when it's applied decently. Bright and garish makeup, as has been the custom in our culture at various points in my life, just turns me off.
My wife doesn't wear any makeup, so naturally Evangeline has virtually no interest in it.
I find the idea of makeup to be generally gross, but it doesn't bother me when it's applied decently. Bright and garish makeup, as has been the custom in our culture at various points in my life, just turns me off.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
losing man's best friend
"Of course you have to work hard to offend Christians. By nature Christians are the most forgiving, understanding and thoughtful group of people I've ever dealt with. They never assume the worst at the get-go, they appreciate the importance of having different perspectives, they're slow to anger, quick to forgive and almost never make rash judgments or act in anything less than a spirit of total love.
"No, wait -- I'm thinking of Labrador retrievers."
I wrote that in 1998, after a friend of mine was catching grief over the jokes he had been including in his "Fishers of Grin" humor mailing for About.com. Everyone gets the dig about Christians and our often-graceless manner, but what I've always enjoyed about it is its dead-on depictions of Labs. They really are a saintly breed.
I bought my second black Lab in late 1994, when I was living in Bethlehem, Pa. I recently had returned from living as a missionary in Haiti, where I had been forced to leave behind my previous dog, also a black Lab.
Once I bought Hamlet, we were inseparable. I took him with me all around the Lehigh Valley. He accompanied me when I went to visit my family in Pittsburgh, and he always came up to Lafayette College from 1995 to 1997, when we would visit my girlfriend during her undergraduate days there. Everybody knew him as the dog who spoke Haitian Kreyol, because that was the language I had used to train him.
Hamlet was the first dog of mine ever to have his own entry in the phone book -- Ma Bell gave me two entries for the same flat rate, and who was I to waste one of them? -- and also the first dog of mine ever to be listed as a friend of a church I was attending. (I don't think the elders were amused when they found out.)
He was a brilliant, stubborn, energetic and often destructive dog. He chewed holes in furniture, ripped up favorite books of mine, and broke out of his cage I don't know how many times, even when it was padlocked.
He also played a part in my romance with my girlfriend, whom I later married. One time the three of us were walking along a stream in Bethlehem, and Hamlet -- off his leash and galavanting along the streambed as he was wont to do -- wouldn't come back. So I threatened that if he didn't come back, I would push her into the water. She had enough time to voice a quick protest, and then I delivered on what I had promised.
Walking him was an experience -- I swear he made my arm a good six inches longer as he pulled at the leash with all the force of a man o'war -- but it was also invariably a pleasant one, since through Hamlet I discovered the other inhabitants of Easton, from the other dog owners out for a stroll in the morning, to the children who wanted to play with him, to the homeless man who stopped to scratch him behind the ears.
I don't think I've ever loved a dog more than I loved him.
About six years ago, when my wife and I got an apartment here in Nova Bastille, we realized we didn't have enough space for him. Labs are made to run, and our apartment had no yard and even less free space inside.
So Hamlet moved in with my parents, who have a huge yard and who discovered they enjoyed having a dog again. If he had a good life with me, he's had a great one with my parents, and they've enjoyed having him around as well.
Because Hamlet was born on Halloween, my father has developed a tradition of having trick-or-treaters sing "Happy birthday" to Hamlet before they can have any of the treats being passed out to celebrate. I'm told Hamlet's birthday is a hit with children all around the neighborhood.
Nothing good lasts forever. Now a little more than 10 years old, Hamlet has been in a lot of pain lately. He has no interest in eating, doesn't like to walk, and spends most of his time lying around and licking his leg. Friday night, the vet announced he had found a malignant and inoperable cancer behind one of Hamlet's hips.
I love him, and can't let him go on suffering each day. I'm probably going to call my parents on Saturday and tell them to go ahead and have him put down.
We're planning to visit my parents for Christmas, and my daughter loves seeing Hamlet, who admittedly is a lot more fun to play with than our dog Sandy, the dog we have here in our home.
I don't want to have to tell her that Hamlet has died, and that he won't be there for her on Christmas. I want to give her one last time to see him and play with him, and I want that for myself too. I want to be there with him, and hold him one last time as he goes to sleep, so he knows that he's loved, even as he drifts off.
It's not going to happen, and that really bites.
Copyright © 2004 by David Learn. Used with permission.
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Psst! I totally stole this from Brucker.
"No, wait -- I'm thinking of Labrador retrievers."
I wrote that in 1998, after a friend of mine was catching grief over the jokes he had been including in his "Fishers of Grin" humor mailing for About.com. Everyone gets the dig about Christians and our often-graceless manner, but what I've always enjoyed about it is its dead-on depictions of Labs. They really are a saintly breed.
I bought my second black Lab in late 1994, when I was living in Bethlehem, Pa. I recently had returned from living as a missionary in Haiti, where I had been forced to leave behind my previous dog, also a black Lab.
Once I bought Hamlet, we were inseparable. I took him with me all around the Lehigh Valley. He accompanied me when I went to visit my family in Pittsburgh, and he always came up to Lafayette College from 1995 to 1997, when we would visit my girlfriend during her undergraduate days there. Everybody knew him as the dog who spoke Haitian Kreyol, because that was the language I had used to train him.
Hamlet was the first dog of mine ever to have his own entry in the phone book -- Ma Bell gave me two entries for the same flat rate, and who was I to waste one of them? -- and also the first dog of mine ever to be listed as a friend of a church I was attending. (I don't think the elders were amused when they found out.)
He was a brilliant, stubborn, energetic and often destructive dog. He chewed holes in furniture, ripped up favorite books of mine, and broke out of his cage I don't know how many times, even when it was padlocked.
He also played a part in my romance with my girlfriend, whom I later married. One time the three of us were walking along a stream in Bethlehem, and Hamlet -- off his leash and galavanting along the streambed as he was wont to do -- wouldn't come back. So I threatened that if he didn't come back, I would push her into the water. She had enough time to voice a quick protest, and then I delivered on what I had promised.
Walking him was an experience -- I swear he made my arm a good six inches longer as he pulled at the leash with all the force of a man o'war -- but it was also invariably a pleasant one, since through Hamlet I discovered the other inhabitants of Easton, from the other dog owners out for a stroll in the morning, to the children who wanted to play with him, to the homeless man who stopped to scratch him behind the ears.
I don't think I've ever loved a dog more than I loved him.
About six years ago, when my wife and I got an apartment here in Nova Bastille, we realized we didn't have enough space for him. Labs are made to run, and our apartment had no yard and even less free space inside.
So Hamlet moved in with my parents, who have a huge yard and who discovered they enjoyed having a dog again. If he had a good life with me, he's had a great one with my parents, and they've enjoyed having him around as well.
Because Hamlet was born on Halloween, my father has developed a tradition of having trick-or-treaters sing "Happy birthday" to Hamlet before they can have any of the treats being passed out to celebrate. I'm told Hamlet's birthday is a hit with children all around the neighborhood.
Nothing good lasts forever. Now a little more than 10 years old, Hamlet has been in a lot of pain lately. He has no interest in eating, doesn't like to walk, and spends most of his time lying around and licking his leg. Friday night, the vet announced he had found a malignant and inoperable cancer behind one of Hamlet's hips.
I love him, and can't let him go on suffering each day. I'm probably going to call my parents on Saturday and tell them to go ahead and have him put down.
We're planning to visit my parents for Christmas, and my daughter loves seeing Hamlet, who admittedly is a lot more fun to play with than our dog Sandy, the dog we have here in our home.
I don't want to have to tell her that Hamlet has died, and that he won't be there for her on Christmas. I want to give her one last time to see him and play with him, and I want that for myself too. I want to be there with him, and hold him one last time as he goes to sleep, so he knows that he's loved, even as he drifts off.
It's not going to happen, and that really bites.
Copyright © 2004 by David Learn. Used with permission.
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Psst! I totally stole this from Brucker.
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
thematic progressions in mark
Being going through the gospel of Mark again, not for a formal study this time but to get a sense of its overview, for a project I'm working on. I'm looking for the themes and events as they develop and unfold in the gospel, and I noticed some stuff on Sunday that really caught me by surprise.
It's the progression. Jesus starts out fairly simply; he arrives back in town from being in the wilderness for 40 days, and picks a couple disciples. They're fairly respectable, hardworking chaps too: the sons of a priest, and a couple brothers who work as fishermen. He goes into Capernaum, casts out a demon and performs a bunch of healings. Fairly (ahem) unremarkable stuff.
But the next day, after he has spent some time in prayer, his ministry takes a new approach. In Capernaum again, he doesn't heal a paralytic -- he starts out by saying, "Your sins are forgiven" -- and then heals the man. The religious leaders, who surely were intrigued by his miracles, now are mortified.
And then he steps it up again. He picks a new disciple -- someone who has been collaborating with the Roman occupiers and making himself wealthy by extorting money from his countrymen.
Now he starts breaking the Sabbath laws of the day. His disciples pick grain on the Sabbath to eat, and he defends them. He heals a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath. Now there are plots to kill him, so what does he do? He go and picks out 12 apostles, a move that is surely going to drive people bonkers with the seditious overtones of a new (or renewed) Israel. Sure enough, the priests claim he's in league with the Devil and his own mother tries to stop him, apologetically telling everyone, "He's out of his mind."
Now that he has everyone's attention, Jesus launches into a number of parables about what the Kingdom of God is like -- and then demonstrates what it is, by violating the established order and heading into the most unclean region possible for a Jew -- a cemetery in Gentile territory, where a man is kept captive by a thousand demons, and near a herd of swine. After that, the gospel mentions that Jesus returned to Judea and raised Jairus' daughter Tamar from the dead.
In those opening chapters, Mark set the tone for the rest of his gospel, from the coming of Christ and the failure of the priests to recognize him as the fulfillment of the Law, down to his descent into hell (a symbolic interpretation of the madman of Ganesseret) and the defeat of Satan, followed by his rescuing the prisoners in hell and ultimate triumph over death.
It's interesting. I never saw this progression before. I should try skimming the New Testament more frequently.
It's the progression. Jesus starts out fairly simply; he arrives back in town from being in the wilderness for 40 days, and picks a couple disciples. They're fairly respectable, hardworking chaps too: the sons of a priest, and a couple brothers who work as fishermen. He goes into Capernaum, casts out a demon and performs a bunch of healings. Fairly (ahem) unremarkable stuff.
But the next day, after he has spent some time in prayer, his ministry takes a new approach. In Capernaum again, he doesn't heal a paralytic -- he starts out by saying, "Your sins are forgiven" -- and then heals the man. The religious leaders, who surely were intrigued by his miracles, now are mortified.
And then he steps it up again. He picks a new disciple -- someone who has been collaborating with the Roman occupiers and making himself wealthy by extorting money from his countrymen.
Now he starts breaking the Sabbath laws of the day. His disciples pick grain on the Sabbath to eat, and he defends them. He heals a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath. Now there are plots to kill him, so what does he do? He go and picks out 12 apostles, a move that is surely going to drive people bonkers with the seditious overtones of a new (or renewed) Israel. Sure enough, the priests claim he's in league with the Devil and his own mother tries to stop him, apologetically telling everyone, "He's out of his mind."
Now that he has everyone's attention, Jesus launches into a number of parables about what the Kingdom of God is like -- and then demonstrates what it is, by violating the established order and heading into the most unclean region possible for a Jew -- a cemetery in Gentile territory, where a man is kept captive by a thousand demons, and near a herd of swine. After that, the gospel mentions that Jesus returned to Judea and raised Jairus' daughter Tamar from the dead.
In those opening chapters, Mark set the tone for the rest of his gospel, from the coming of Christ and the failure of the priests to recognize him as the fulfillment of the Law, down to his descent into hell (a symbolic interpretation of the madman of Ganesseret) and the defeat of Satan, followed by his rescuing the prisoners in hell and ultimate triumph over death.
It's interesting. I never saw this progression before. I should try skimming the New Testament more frequently.
Terry Moore's 'Strangers in Paradise'
I lost interest in "Strangers in Paradise" for a while.
"Strangers in Paradise" is an independent comic book written and illustrated by Terry Moore, and published by his privately owned Abstract Studios. It tells the story principally of two women, Katchoo and Francine, and their friend David. The comic won an Eisner Award in 1996 for its second collected volume, "I Dream of You," so it is a pretty impressive comic.
I lost interest somewhere around the time of volume 10, "Tropic of Desire," since the story seemed to be going nowhere. It had settled into the same old back-and-forth, with loads of Francine introspection and internal growth but very little change in her situation, and loads of plot threads Terry had dropped in the middle, as if he had forgotten about them.
One was Francine's job with an ad agency. Another centered on the former secretary of Francine's ex-boyfriend, Freddie Femur. The former secretary was letting Francine and Katchoo stay in her garage apartment, and it was implied she had a crush on Katchoo, who is gay or bisexual and in love with Francine.
There were other loose or dropped threads too.
Moore also kept trying to top the story in "I Dream of You," which revealed that David's sister Darcy was the head of an international crime syndicate. The result? Things kept getting more and more melodramatic and further and further from what originally had attracted me the comic.
That's not to say the comic didn't still have some strengths. There was an issue involving a plane crash, and the opening page was absolutely brutal. I'll also never forget the issue that made Freddie some depth by showing how devastated he was when his wife left him. But overall I felt the quality had declined, and my interest was waning.
Enter my wife.
Although she has read several other comics I've encouraged her to -- Neil Gaiman's "Sandman" being the most notable -- she remains a fan of "Strangers and Paradise" and continues to read it. At times she has hounded me to get the latest trade paperback.
Last Christmas, she bought me three new trade paperback collections for herself for Christmas, and I discovered that things have been moving. Moore brought Francine's story arc to its conclusion, did something interesting with Casey Femur, changed Katchoo's situation from the bored artist waiting for Francine and really developed David Qin's character.
So, long story short, I'm reading it again.
"Strangers in Paradise" is an independent comic book written and illustrated by Terry Moore, and published by his privately owned Abstract Studios. It tells the story principally of two women, Katchoo and Francine, and their friend David. The comic won an Eisner Award in 1996 for its second collected volume, "I Dream of You," so it is a pretty impressive comic.
I lost interest somewhere around the time of volume 10, "Tropic of Desire," since the story seemed to be going nowhere. It had settled into the same old back-and-forth, with loads of Francine introspection and internal growth but very little change in her situation, and loads of plot threads Terry had dropped in the middle, as if he had forgotten about them.
One was Francine's job with an ad agency. Another centered on the former secretary of Francine's ex-boyfriend, Freddie Femur. The former secretary was letting Francine and Katchoo stay in her garage apartment, and it was implied she had a crush on Katchoo, who is gay or bisexual and in love with Francine.
There were other loose or dropped threads too.
Moore also kept trying to top the story in "I Dream of You," which revealed that David's sister Darcy was the head of an international crime syndicate. The result? Things kept getting more and more melodramatic and further and further from what originally had attracted me the comic.
That's not to say the comic didn't still have some strengths. There was an issue involving a plane crash, and the opening page was absolutely brutal. I'll also never forget the issue that made Freddie some depth by showing how devastated he was when his wife left him. But overall I felt the quality had declined, and my interest was waning.
Enter my wife.
Although she has read several other comics I've encouraged her to -- Neil Gaiman's "Sandman" being the most notable -- she remains a fan of "Strangers and Paradise" and continues to read it. At times she has hounded me to get the latest trade paperback.
Last Christmas, she bought me three new trade paperback collections for herself for Christmas, and I discovered that things have been moving. Moore brought Francine's story arc to its conclusion, did something interesting with Casey Femur, changed Katchoo's situation from the bored artist waiting for Francine and really developed David Qin's character.
So, long story short, I'm reading it again.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
Understanding the temptations of Christ and what they mean for us
After his baptism, the gospel of Matthew tells us, Jesus went into the wilderness and fasted for 40 days. After that, the devil appeared and tempted him.
I've been thinking lately about the nature of those temptations. Because while we may gain some insight into Christ from the nature of the temptations he faced, we also should be able to draw some application for ourselves, beyond the merely obvious, that "Christ was tempted just like us, but did not sin." It's not as easy as I would like to think it would be.
The first temptation Satan brought before Christ was to turn stones into bread. By this time, Jesus had been fasting for 40 days. If he's hungry now, it's because he's begun to starve. It's no sin to feed yourself to hold of starving to death. (Well, it might be stupid to eat bread if it's been 40 days since you've eaten, but I don't think Satan was tempting Jesus toward constipation or vomiting.)
Given Jesus' response — "Man does not live on bread alone" — the appeal of this temptation was to indulge earthly needs before the pressing spiritual need before him, the question of his identity and emerging life purpose, "Who am I, and what is this incredible stirring within my soul that drove me out here forty days ago?"
The application for us should lie along a similar theme, allowing an earthly need -- even a pressing one -- to take precedence over a spiritual need that must be addressed immediately. Especially when the answer is so close.
The second temptation Christ faced was to throw himself down from the Temple, so that the angels would catch him. Fyodr Dostoevsky's "The Brothers Karamazov," the movie "The Miracle Maker" and in Graham Green's "Monsignor Quixote" all suggest that this was an assault on the nature of faith.
Jesus was an unremarkable person, like anyone else on the street. Being caught by angels as he fell in front of a presumably crowded Temple would make it obvious that he had God's seal of approval. No faith means no salvation, for "It is by grace you have been saved, through faith." In his chapter "The Grand Inquisitor," Dostoevsky makes a similar argument about turning stones to bread.
But what is the application of this reading to us? Is it just a temptation to take the easy road out? That feels unsatisfactory.
The third and final temptation is when Satan offers to give Jesus all the kingdoms of the world. The connection for us is easy to see. It's fame, success and power. It's having the ability to order things the way we want them ordered. In many ways this the most powerful temptation of all. Witness its appeal to humans throughout history, and in the present moment to the Christian Right.
It's also easily the most shallow. If Satan really does have the kingdoms of the world and can give them to whomever he pleases in exchange for worship, the he really doesn't lose anything by giving them away.
He just gains us, for an illusion.
I've been thinking lately about the nature of those temptations. Because while we may gain some insight into Christ from the nature of the temptations he faced, we also should be able to draw some application for ourselves, beyond the merely obvious, that "Christ was tempted just like us, but did not sin." It's not as easy as I would like to think it would be.
The first temptation Satan brought before Christ was to turn stones into bread. By this time, Jesus had been fasting for 40 days. If he's hungry now, it's because he's begun to starve. It's no sin to feed yourself to hold of starving to death. (Well, it might be stupid to eat bread if it's been 40 days since you've eaten, but I don't think Satan was tempting Jesus toward constipation or vomiting.)
Given Jesus' response — "Man does not live on bread alone" — the appeal of this temptation was to indulge earthly needs before the pressing spiritual need before him, the question of his identity and emerging life purpose, "Who am I, and what is this incredible stirring within my soul that drove me out here forty days ago?"
The application for us should lie along a similar theme, allowing an earthly need -- even a pressing one -- to take precedence over a spiritual need that must be addressed immediately. Especially when the answer is so close.
The second temptation Christ faced was to throw himself down from the Temple, so that the angels would catch him. Fyodr Dostoevsky's "The Brothers Karamazov," the movie "The Miracle Maker" and in Graham Green's "Monsignor Quixote" all suggest that this was an assault on the nature of faith.
Jesus was an unremarkable person, like anyone else on the street. Being caught by angels as he fell in front of a presumably crowded Temple would make it obvious that he had God's seal of approval. No faith means no salvation, for "It is by grace you have been saved, through faith." In his chapter "The Grand Inquisitor," Dostoevsky makes a similar argument about turning stones to bread.
But what is the application of this reading to us? Is it just a temptation to take the easy road out? That feels unsatisfactory.
The third and final temptation is when Satan offers to give Jesus all the kingdoms of the world. The connection for us is easy to see. It's fame, success and power. It's having the ability to order things the way we want them ordered. In many ways this the most powerful temptation of all. Witness its appeal to humans throughout history, and in the present moment to the Christian Right.
It's also easily the most shallow. If Satan really does have the kingdoms of the world and can give them to whomever he pleases in exchange for worship, the he really doesn't lose anything by giving them away.
He just gains us, for an illusion.
Saturday, December 11, 2004
rathergate
The big two enemies of quality in journalism are, ironically, deadline and competition. You see, everyone wants to get The Story, and to get it, we have to get it first. That means we scramble to get the information pulled together, and if it seems like it's credible, we run with it.
If it's big, we let our excitement get the better of us sometimes, and we don't stop to consider how noncredible it might be, especially if we hear that somebody else is working on the same story. Even working at weeklies, I've fallen guilty to this, to my shame, just because I knew that a reporter from a daily newspaper was there.
So, despite his years of experience, I think Rather made a really stupid mistake because he wanted to get it first and he didn't bother to take the time to make sure his source was reliable and his information was accurate before he went to press with it.
And then, like every other human being on this planet, his pride got in the way and he refused to admit that he had made a mistake. He stuck by his story, even though I'm sure he realized there was reason not to. His supervisors stuck by his story, even though they had to realize there was reason not to. Why? Because of stupid human pride and an unwillingness to admit that even as one of the highest-profile telejournalists in the world, you can make really stupid mistakes, just like a first-year reporter, because you got all excited over an exclusive and forgot to get it right before you got it first.
Remember Alexandra Polier? There was a big sex scandal surrounding her and Kerry back during the primary, claiming that she and Kerry had had an affair while she was an intern on his campaign. Only one problem: It never happened. There was some innuendo, some rumor-mongering and an overactive press corps digging into her life making things miserable for her as they linked her to Kerry in a big rush to get a big news story.
Shoddy reporting happens a lot, and it's not just because of a liberal bias or a conservative bias. It's because sometimes enthusiasm and bloodlust for the next Big Story gets the better of every journalist.
I don't think there's a conscious effort afoot to smear Bush, which is what many conservatives seem to believe. My understanding of reporters stationed overseas -- no personal experience, but I knew missionaries who were interviewed with them in the days leading up to Clinton's invasion of Haiti in 1994 -- is that they're required to file at least one story each day.
Editors then decide which stories to use, and which to hold "for a rainy day." Often, those rainy days never come because the news never stops happening, which very well could mean that some of the stories you want to see are being filed away indefinitely because an editor sees something of local or regional interest as more pressing and more newsworthy than the other stories coming from Iraq.
I'll go a step further: To an extent, I think conservative groups (including evangelicals) have had heard "liberal media bias" repeated so often that they see it even when it doesn't exist. Generally the view I get from conservative Christians is that Clinton basked in the warm glow of love that came from the liberal media, while the liberal media is trying to roast Bush alive.
BUT! I remember quite clearly that several commentators were looking at the media treatment of the Clinton presidency while he was in office, and were struck by how hostile the media were toward him. (Time magazine did a cover story on this one month, in 1994 or 1995, I think.) And during the 2000 primary, the media often were willing to overlook the way Bush treated McCain and presented him fairly positively, while regularly casting Gore as robotlike and as an undesirable presidential candidate. (That's because Bush treated the reporters decently, would talk with them about the Yankees and the Mets, and Gore talked over people's heads.)
I do think Rather's resignation was warranted. Even if his motives were not based on personal political beliefs, the lack of sound judgment is so monumental that, given his prominence, he should beat an exit from the world of reporting and retire.
We all take sides, after all -- even as a reporter, I had feelings on whom the paper should endorse, even if I never voiced them even to the editor -- but chasing stories solely because of how they fit political leanings is despicable.
Much perceived bias, though, can be attributed to laziness, shoddy reporting or a lack of clear vision and guidance from up top, rather than to a calculated effort to advance a specific agenda.
If it's big, we let our excitement get the better of us sometimes, and we don't stop to consider how noncredible it might be, especially if we hear that somebody else is working on the same story. Even working at weeklies, I've fallen guilty to this, to my shame, just because I knew that a reporter from a daily newspaper was there.
So, despite his years of experience, I think Rather made a really stupid mistake because he wanted to get it first and he didn't bother to take the time to make sure his source was reliable and his information was accurate before he went to press with it.
And then, like every other human being on this planet, his pride got in the way and he refused to admit that he had made a mistake. He stuck by his story, even though I'm sure he realized there was reason not to. His supervisors stuck by his story, even though they had to realize there was reason not to. Why? Because of stupid human pride and an unwillingness to admit that even as one of the highest-profile telejournalists in the world, you can make really stupid mistakes, just like a first-year reporter, because you got all excited over an exclusive and forgot to get it right before you got it first.
Remember Alexandra Polier? There was a big sex scandal surrounding her and Kerry back during the primary, claiming that she and Kerry had had an affair while she was an intern on his campaign. Only one problem: It never happened. There was some innuendo, some rumor-mongering and an overactive press corps digging into her life making things miserable for her as they linked her to Kerry in a big rush to get a big news story.
Shoddy reporting happens a lot, and it's not just because of a liberal bias or a conservative bias. It's because sometimes enthusiasm and bloodlust for the next Big Story gets the better of every journalist.
I don't think there's a conscious effort afoot to smear Bush, which is what many conservatives seem to believe. My understanding of reporters stationed overseas -- no personal experience, but I knew missionaries who were interviewed with them in the days leading up to Clinton's invasion of Haiti in 1994 -- is that they're required to file at least one story each day.
Editors then decide which stories to use, and which to hold "for a rainy day." Often, those rainy days never come because the news never stops happening, which very well could mean that some of the stories you want to see are being filed away indefinitely because an editor sees something of local or regional interest as more pressing and more newsworthy than the other stories coming from Iraq.
I'll go a step further: To an extent, I think conservative groups (including evangelicals) have had heard "liberal media bias" repeated so often that they see it even when it doesn't exist. Generally the view I get from conservative Christians is that Clinton basked in the warm glow of love that came from the liberal media, while the liberal media is trying to roast Bush alive.
BUT! I remember quite clearly that several commentators were looking at the media treatment of the Clinton presidency while he was in office, and were struck by how hostile the media were toward him. (Time magazine did a cover story on this one month, in 1994 or 1995, I think.) And during the 2000 primary, the media often were willing to overlook the way Bush treated McCain and presented him fairly positively, while regularly casting Gore as robotlike and as an undesirable presidential candidate. (That's because Bush treated the reporters decently, would talk with them about the Yankees and the Mets, and Gore talked over people's heads.)
I do think Rather's resignation was warranted. Even if his motives were not based on personal political beliefs, the lack of sound judgment is so monumental that, given his prominence, he should beat an exit from the world of reporting and retire.
We all take sides, after all -- even as a reporter, I had feelings on whom the paper should endorse, even if I never voiced them even to the editor -- but chasing stories solely because of how they fit political leanings is despicable.
Much perceived bias, though, can be attributed to laziness, shoddy reporting or a lack of clear vision and guidance from up top, rather than to a calculated effort to advance a specific agenda.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
that horrid little man
My wife and I recently watched the entire Rowan Atkinson "Blackadder" series, courtesy of a friend who has loads and loads of DVDs he doesn't watch and is only too happy to lend them out while he is not watching them.
I first saw part of "Blackadder" season one while I was an exchange student living in New Zealand in 1987. I find that over all, I prefer the second series. In the first one, they were still getting their footing, and not surprisingly, the BBC nearly canceled it.
In the second series, Blackadder had a certain sophistication -- mixed with the family vindictiveness, of course -- that was required for keeping his head in Elizabeth's court. That gave him a level of class and appeal that was lacking in the first series and that was diminished in the third and fourth series. (My wife did note that each Edmund Blackadder appeared to be smarter than his ancestors, even as he was lower in class ranking. I couldn't help but wonder if that was more or less deliberate.)
On the whole, I'm feeling rather proud of myself. When I started dating my wife, she had seen all three "Wallace and Gromit" episodes and knew Monty Python solely from "The Quest for the Holy Grail." Since then, I've made her into a "Flying Circus" fan, and shown her the joys of "Red Dwarf," "Blackadder" and "Fawlty Towers."
I wonder what my chances are of getting her hooked on "Dr. Who" (relatively slim, I should think, given the comparatively low production values and writing that varied immensely in strength, but I suppose it's worth trying).
Tom Baker is the definitive Dr. Who for most American fans. The production values on Pertwee's episodes were really low, but it *was* the late 1960s, so that's not too horribly surprising. On the other hand, his were the most down-to-earth science fiction, since the Time Lords had stranded the Doctor on Earth as punishment for his crimes, a sentence that was commuted after the events of "The Three Doctors."
The problem is I have exactly TWO episodes on tape -- "The Deadly Assassin" and "The Five Doctors." The latter is an episode for the fans, and would be too confusing for a neophyte; the former might make a good introduction, although again, by that time in the show's run there was a fair amount of history the writers just assumed everyone knew. Not sure how well it would fly either.
I might have other episodes I recorded off PBS my first summer home from college. I'd have to check.
One episode I really would like to see is "Doctor Who and the Fatal Death." It stars Rowan Atkinson as the Ninth Doctor. The setup is that the Doctor is preparing to settle down and marry, but first must deal with the return of the Master. Unfortunately, the Doctor keeps getting killed and uses up his remaining lives very quickly, and with some very unusual personalities emerging ....
I first saw part of "Blackadder" season one while I was an exchange student living in New Zealand in 1987. I find that over all, I prefer the second series. In the first one, they were still getting their footing, and not surprisingly, the BBC nearly canceled it.
In the second series, Blackadder had a certain sophistication -- mixed with the family vindictiveness, of course -- that was required for keeping his head in Elizabeth's court. That gave him a level of class and appeal that was lacking in the first series and that was diminished in the third and fourth series. (My wife did note that each Edmund Blackadder appeared to be smarter than his ancestors, even as he was lower in class ranking. I couldn't help but wonder if that was more or less deliberate.)
On the whole, I'm feeling rather proud of myself. When I started dating my wife, she had seen all three "Wallace and Gromit" episodes and knew Monty Python solely from "The Quest for the Holy Grail." Since then, I've made her into a "Flying Circus" fan, and shown her the joys of "Red Dwarf," "Blackadder" and "Fawlty Towers."
I wonder what my chances are of getting her hooked on "Dr. Who" (relatively slim, I should think, given the comparatively low production values and writing that varied immensely in strength, but I suppose it's worth trying).
Tom Baker is the definitive Dr. Who for most American fans. The production values on Pertwee's episodes were really low, but it *was* the late 1960s, so that's not too horribly surprising. On the other hand, his were the most down-to-earth science fiction, since the Time Lords had stranded the Doctor on Earth as punishment for his crimes, a sentence that was commuted after the events of "The Three Doctors."
The problem is I have exactly TWO episodes on tape -- "The Deadly Assassin" and "The Five Doctors." The latter is an episode for the fans, and would be too confusing for a neophyte; the former might make a good introduction, although again, by that time in the show's run there was a fair amount of history the writers just assumed everyone knew. Not sure how well it would fly either.
I might have other episodes I recorded off PBS my first summer home from college. I'd have to check.
One episode I really would like to see is "Doctor Who and the Fatal Death." It stars Rowan Atkinson as the Ninth Doctor. The setup is that the Doctor is preparing to settle down and marry, but first must deal with the return of the Master. Unfortunately, the Doctor keeps getting killed and uses up his remaining lives very quickly, and with some very unusual personalities emerging ....
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
We start celebrating Hanukkah
Count me and my family among the number of Christians making an effort to celebrate Hanukkah. It's partly to educate the girls about other cultures and ways of doing things, partly to educate them about Judaism, and partly to build their knowledge and appreciation of what God has done for his people.
My calendar has Dec. 8 marked as the first day of Hanukkah -- stupid Gentile that I am, I believed it, when I should have realized that Hanukkah would start at sundown Dec. 7. (Actually, I did suspect that, but failed to check.)
This afternoon, the girls and I went into a Judaica shop in the next town over and bought a menorah and candles. I think I inadvertently misled the owner into thinking that I'm Jewish. I'm not sure, but I think so.
For starters, I always say the opening H in Hanukkah like the "ch" sound at the end of Bach, which is how it's supposed to be pronounced. For a second thing, I explained to E and R in some detail the significance of the menorah and the shamash, told them time and again the story of Judah the Maccabbee, and of course R also has a biblical name. I think the girls' curly hair also lent us the image, although R's hair is far blonder than I've ever seen on a Jewish person.
On the other hand, E kept asking me what Hanukkah is, even on the way out. Maybe they thought I haven't been a particularly observant Jew, especially since I acknowledged I was buying the menorah a day late, or maybe that I was a Gentile who had married a Jewish woman. No idea.
E found it enthralling when I lit the candles tonight and said the prayers, although she was mortified that I wouldn't blow the candles out before they melted away. (She overcame that, and decided it was neat to watch them melt that far.) No dreidel games, although E learned a dreidel song in preschool last year, and we did eat latkes. With shellfish and pasta admittedly, but I didn't feel inclined to keep kosher, especially since dinner was rushed so my wife could get to book club on time.
No traditional doughnuts, though. I've never liked jelly doughnuts, especially a kind I can't even spell or pronounce. I might get a more regular sort of doughnuts to share with the girls, and explain that it's also a tradition we've half-borrowed.
This is actually (sort of) the second Jewish holiday we've added to our family observance. Last Easter, I tried to structure the meal around something like a Hagaddah service, focusing on the Easter story rather than the Passover one. It was a total disaster, of course, but I'm trying again next year. It occurred to me some time a couple years ago that the annual Pesach ritual is an excellent way of preserving the Jewish religion, culture and identity in alien and often hostile cultures, and that I'd have to be an idiot not to want to do that with my own faith.
Last night as I was watching the candles on the menorah burn low, I thought about a friend of mine named Josh. Josh is the son of a cantor, and the two of us had a tremendous working relationship at WCN, where we talked about our faiths openly and safely. (He said that I was a puzzle to him -- he'd never known another Christian as deeply religious as me who wasn't always trying to convert him, who told jokes about his own religion, or who agreed the Tanakh made better reading than most of the New Testament.)
We had talked periodically about the kosher rules, and Josh found it hilarious when I mentioned the amendment an ex-girlfriend of mine had had about pork. It was that pork is never kosher, unless it's eaten at a Chinese restaurant. He loved that one.
He also told me that his father had told him about a group of lost Jews discovered in South America. Their great-grandparents or whoever had been so secretive about being Jews, for fear of persecution, that their descendants didn't realize it themselves.
They celebrated Mass every Sunday, and prayed to the saints and all, but on every Friday evening, they turned the pictures of the saints around until sunset Saturday, and kept other traditions usually associated with Jews.
"For example," I threw in, "every Christmas, they go out for Chinese food."
"That's right," Josh said. "But they have no idea why they do it, since no one else does."
No particular relevance to Hanukkah, I suppose, but I thought about them and chuckled all the same.
We also read "The Christmas Menorahs," a true story about a whole town rallying around their Jewish families who were being targeted by neo-Nazis who were throwing stones through windows where they saw menorahs. It was a nice reminder about the power of courage and love, and E seemed to enjoy it, along with the traditional story about Judah the Maccabbee.
She had a hard time understanding why somebody would hate another person for being Jewish. Good for her. I hope she feels that way her whole life.
Tomorrow should be better. I figure by the eighth day, I should have it down to a science. I'd really like to get to know more of the Jewish holidays and incorporate them into our family life to one degree or another. I've always had an interest in Judaism, and it's deepened with my faith.
My calendar has Dec. 8 marked as the first day of Hanukkah -- stupid Gentile that I am, I believed it, when I should have realized that Hanukkah would start at sundown Dec. 7. (Actually, I did suspect that, but failed to check.)
This afternoon, the girls and I went into a Judaica shop in the next town over and bought a menorah and candles. I think I inadvertently misled the owner into thinking that I'm Jewish. I'm not sure, but I think so.
For starters, I always say the opening H in Hanukkah like the "ch" sound at the end of Bach, which is how it's supposed to be pronounced. For a second thing, I explained to E and R in some detail the significance of the menorah and the shamash, told them time and again the story of Judah the Maccabbee, and of course R also has a biblical name. I think the girls' curly hair also lent us the image, although R's hair is far blonder than I've ever seen on a Jewish person.
On the other hand, E kept asking me what Hanukkah is, even on the way out. Maybe they thought I haven't been a particularly observant Jew, especially since I acknowledged I was buying the menorah a day late, or maybe that I was a Gentile who had married a Jewish woman. No idea.
E found it enthralling when I lit the candles tonight and said the prayers, although she was mortified that I wouldn't blow the candles out before they melted away. (She overcame that, and decided it was neat to watch them melt that far.) No dreidel games, although E learned a dreidel song in preschool last year, and we did eat latkes. With shellfish and pasta admittedly, but I didn't feel inclined to keep kosher, especially since dinner was rushed so my wife could get to book club on time.
No traditional doughnuts, though. I've never liked jelly doughnuts, especially a kind I can't even spell or pronounce. I might get a more regular sort of doughnuts to share with the girls, and explain that it's also a tradition we've half-borrowed.
This is actually (sort of) the second Jewish holiday we've added to our family observance. Last Easter, I tried to structure the meal around something like a Hagaddah service, focusing on the Easter story rather than the Passover one. It was a total disaster, of course, but I'm trying again next year. It occurred to me some time a couple years ago that the annual Pesach ritual is an excellent way of preserving the Jewish religion, culture and identity in alien and often hostile cultures, and that I'd have to be an idiot not to want to do that with my own faith.
Last night as I was watching the candles on the menorah burn low, I thought about a friend of mine named Josh. Josh is the son of a cantor, and the two of us had a tremendous working relationship at WCN, where we talked about our faiths openly and safely. (He said that I was a puzzle to him -- he'd never known another Christian as deeply religious as me who wasn't always trying to convert him, who told jokes about his own religion, or who agreed the Tanakh made better reading than most of the New Testament.)
We had talked periodically about the kosher rules, and Josh found it hilarious when I mentioned the amendment an ex-girlfriend of mine had had about pork. It was that pork is never kosher, unless it's eaten at a Chinese restaurant. He loved that one.
He also told me that his father had told him about a group of lost Jews discovered in South America. Their great-grandparents or whoever had been so secretive about being Jews, for fear of persecution, that their descendants didn't realize it themselves.
They celebrated Mass every Sunday, and prayed to the saints and all, but on every Friday evening, they turned the pictures of the saints around until sunset Saturday, and kept other traditions usually associated with Jews.
"For example," I threw in, "every Christmas, they go out for Chinese food."
"That's right," Josh said. "But they have no idea why they do it, since no one else does."
No particular relevance to Hanukkah, I suppose, but I thought about them and chuckled all the same.
We also read "The Christmas Menorahs," a true story about a whole town rallying around their Jewish families who were being targeted by neo-Nazis who were throwing stones through windows where they saw menorahs. It was a nice reminder about the power of courage and love, and E seemed to enjoy it, along with the traditional story about Judah the Maccabbee.
She had a hard time understanding why somebody would hate another person for being Jewish. Good for her. I hope she feels that way her whole life.
Tomorrow should be better. I figure by the eighth day, I should have it down to a science. I'd really like to get to know more of the Jewish holidays and incorporate them into our family life to one degree or another. I've always had an interest in Judaism, and it's deepened with my faith.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
A Wrinkle in Time'
I haven't seen it, but I think the most interesting review comes from Madeleine L'Engle, who said something to the effect of: "The director surpassed my original expectations for the movie. I thought it would be bad, but it wasn't -- it was much worse."
Friday, December 03, 2004
ditching the gadflies
Evangeline and I went to Babylon today -- Broadway, specifically, a couple blocks from Union Square. Someone tried to solicit money from me to protect the environment from President Bush -- I had no idea he was the greatest threat facing the environment, but I guess it makes sense since he's also the greatest threat to everything else -- but I managed to throw him off by speaking to him and Evangeline only in Creole, and left the poor bugger thoroughly confused.
Se obligasyon mwen, non?
I did that at Burger King once too. I wish I could have recorded the conversation, because the poor woman who was trying to take my order at the drive-through was so frazzled after my third attempt. "Mwen vle de chizbege, un laj pom fri e un koka, souple." (I want two cheeseburgers, a large fry and a Coke, please.) It seems pretty straightforward to me.
Se obligasyon mwen, non?
I did that at Burger King once too. I wish I could have recorded the conversation, because the poor woman who was trying to take my order at the drive-through was so frazzled after my third attempt. "Mwen vle de chizbege, un laj pom fri e un koka, souple." (I want two cheeseburgers, a large fry and a Coke, please.) It seems pretty straightforward to me.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Discovering the local art academy
On Monday night we discovered the Hoover Point Art Academy.
The teacher had me sold in just 10 minutes, not only with her ability to deal respectfully with a 5-year-old, but also for her ability to revolutionize Evangeline's approach to drawing. We'll be attending drop-in lessons once a week for the next several weeks, but after that we will enroll her in a regular art class at the gallery.
The lesson began as Ana, the instructor and studio owner, asked Evangeline to draw a picture. She chose Mulan, her favorite Disney character of the moment, and with the color pencils drew the way one usually does with a pencil. She drew the outline of Mulan's head, her hair and her outfit, adding little details like Mulan's eyes, nose, mouth and eyebrows.
Ana showed Evangeline a different approach to drawing, drawing lines together and deliberately, as if she were using a crayon; and then had her draw a school of smiling fish.
After that, she had Evangeline draw water around the fish using a mix of green, blue and purple wash pencils. Then -- this will be obvious to artists, but it was something new to me -- she had Evangeline dab the picture very lightly with the tip of a wet brush, and the washables turned to paint, creating a nice water effect.
I had never seen this kind of color pencil before, and was almost as taken with it as Evangeline was.
The whole session took about an hour, but held Evangeline's rapt attention the entire time. As I said on my way out, the downside is that from now on, Evangeline's going to tell me that we have the wrong paper, the wrong pencils, that I'm not taping her paper to a cardboard backing, and so on.
But I'm pleased. I think she's genuinely gifted artistically, and I'm excited to give her the chance to pursue that gift and develop it.
The teacher had me sold in just 10 minutes, not only with her ability to deal respectfully with a 5-year-old, but also for her ability to revolutionize Evangeline's approach to drawing. We'll be attending drop-in lessons once a week for the next several weeks, but after that we will enroll her in a regular art class at the gallery.
The lesson began as Ana, the instructor and studio owner, asked Evangeline to draw a picture. She chose Mulan, her favorite Disney character of the moment, and with the color pencils drew the way one usually does with a pencil. She drew the outline of Mulan's head, her hair and her outfit, adding little details like Mulan's eyes, nose, mouth and eyebrows.
Ana showed Evangeline a different approach to drawing, drawing lines together and deliberately, as if she were using a crayon; and then had her draw a school of smiling fish.
After that, she had Evangeline draw water around the fish using a mix of green, blue and purple wash pencils. Then -- this will be obvious to artists, but it was something new to me -- she had Evangeline dab the picture very lightly with the tip of a wet brush, and the washables turned to paint, creating a nice water effect.
I had never seen this kind of color pencil before, and was almost as taken with it as Evangeline was.
The whole session took about an hour, but held Evangeline's rapt attention the entire time. As I said on my way out, the downside is that from now on, Evangeline's going to tell me that we have the wrong paper, the wrong pencils, that I'm not taping her paper to a cardboard backing, and so on.
But I'm pleased. I think she's genuinely gifted artistically, and I'm excited to give her the chance to pursue that gift and develop it.
wicked
My current read is "Wicked," the book the musical is based on. Simply incredible, though I think Maguire loses steam in a few places and Natasha found the ending dissatisfying. Probably the main appeal to his work is that he gives such a perverse rendering of "Wizard of Oz" that it can't help but appeal to any adult who remembers enjoying either the movie or Baum's book as a child. Elphaba (the wicked witch) is interesting and sympathetically portrayed although she is, ultimately, arguably as wicked as the title claims.
And we're also reading Evangeline "The Wizard of Oz," which is rather interesting because I had never read it growing up, and am reading Maguire's treatment at the same time, and am finding it colors my view of Dorothy's experiences. (The wizard is a total despot, for starters, as bad as Hitler or other fascists who sponsor genocide and abuse their power for personal gain. I actually told Evangeline that I think the wizard is an evil man, which she took as me being silly, which I suppose I was.)
I'm told that Frank Baum revealed in later books that the wizard had done some nasty things to the ruling family in order to come to power; if that's the case, Maguire plays it to the hilt. The wizard overthrows the Oz regent and either kills or imprisons the toddler Ozma before engaging in the wholesale destruction of one group of people after another. Real nasty SOB -- not "a bad wizard but a good man" as he described himself in the movie.
And we're also reading Evangeline "The Wizard of Oz," which is rather interesting because I had never read it growing up, and am reading Maguire's treatment at the same time, and am finding it colors my view of Dorothy's experiences. (The wizard is a total despot, for starters, as bad as Hitler or other fascists who sponsor genocide and abuse their power for personal gain. I actually told Evangeline that I think the wizard is an evil man, which she took as me being silly, which I suppose I was.)
I'm told that Frank Baum revealed in later books that the wizard had done some nasty things to the ruling family in order to come to power; if that's the case, Maguire plays it to the hilt. The wizard overthrows the Oz regent and either kills or imprisons the toddler Ozma before engaging in the wholesale destruction of one group of people after another. Real nasty SOB -- not "a bad wizard but a good man" as he described himself in the movie.
Gina Kolata's 'Flu'
I recently and finally finished reading a book by Gina Kolata about the 1918 Flu; despite the dry-sounding topic, it's really quite fascinating.
Odd choice of recreational reading? I think it was something that grew out of reading "The Canterbury Tales," actually. Craig Rustici, our Chaucer professor, explained that England in Chaucer's day was experiencing massive social upheaval owing to the new upward mobility experienced by laborers, whose skills suddenly were in demand, owing to the effects of bubonic plague.
A disease that made its way from China to Europe along trade routes was a major contributor to the end of the Dark Ages, along with more conventional means of social change such as shifting philosophies and wars.
So while my interest is definitely a layman's -- I can't begin to tell you the molecular biology at play in chickenpox, let alone in plague -- I can't help but find massive outbreaks of disease interesting because of their social consequences.
In the case of the 1918 flu, it led to an entire generation overdosing themselves and their children on antibiotics, affected commerce and transit, as people avoided large crowds, where the risk of exposure to the killer flu was increased. Decades later the memory of the 1918 flu was enough to spur the Ford presidency into trying to vaccinate the entire country, to stave off a feared return of that flu strain.
Kolata's been reviled by those covering the newspaper industry and science reporting for her bias and inaccuracies in her reporting, and perhaps deservedly so; but she writes engagingly and captures the personalities of the people she's writing about in this book. I have another book of hers here about the events leading up to the cloned sheep Dolly, but haven't read it yet.
My current read is "Wicked," the book the musical is based on. Simply incredible, though I think Maguire loses steam in a few places and Natasha found the ending dissatisfying. Probably the main appeal to his work is that he gives such a perverse rendering of "Wizard of Oz" that it can't help but appeal to any adult who remembers enjoying either the movie or Baum's book as a child. Elphaba (the wicked witch) is interesting and sympathetically portrayed although she is, ultimately, arguably as wicked as the title claims.
And we're also reading Evangeline "The Wizard of Oz," which is rather interesting because I had never read it growing up, and am reading Maguire's treatment at the same time, and am finding it colors my view of Dorothy's experiences. (The wizard is a total despot, for starters, as bad as Hitler or other fascists who sponsor genocide and abuse their power for personal gain. I actually told Evangeline that I think the wizard is an evil man, which she took as me being silly, which I suppose I was.)
So far I recommend it.
Odd choice of recreational reading? I think it was something that grew out of reading "The Canterbury Tales," actually. Craig Rustici, our Chaucer professor, explained that England in Chaucer's day was experiencing massive social upheaval owing to the new upward mobility experienced by laborers, whose skills suddenly were in demand, owing to the effects of bubonic plague.
A disease that made its way from China to Europe along trade routes was a major contributor to the end of the Dark Ages, along with more conventional means of social change such as shifting philosophies and wars.
So while my interest is definitely a layman's -- I can't begin to tell you the molecular biology at play in chickenpox, let alone in plague -- I can't help but find massive outbreaks of disease interesting because of their social consequences.
In the case of the 1918 flu, it led to an entire generation overdosing themselves and their children on antibiotics, affected commerce and transit, as people avoided large crowds, where the risk of exposure to the killer flu was increased. Decades later the memory of the 1918 flu was enough to spur the Ford presidency into trying to vaccinate the entire country, to stave off a feared return of that flu strain.
Kolata's been reviled by those covering the newspaper industry and science reporting for her bias and inaccuracies in her reporting, and perhaps deservedly so; but she writes engagingly and captures the personalities of the people she's writing about in this book. I have another book of hers here about the events leading up to the cloned sheep Dolly, but haven't read it yet.
* * *
My current read is "Wicked," the book the musical is based on. Simply incredible, though I think Maguire loses steam in a few places and Natasha found the ending dissatisfying. Probably the main appeal to his work is that he gives such a perverse rendering of "Wizard of Oz" that it can't help but appeal to any adult who remembers enjoying either the movie or Baum's book as a child. Elphaba (the wicked witch) is interesting and sympathetically portrayed although she is, ultimately, arguably as wicked as the title claims.
And we're also reading Evangeline "The Wizard of Oz," which is rather interesting because I had never read it growing up, and am reading Maguire's treatment at the same time, and am finding it colors my view of Dorothy's experiences. (The wizard is a total despot, for starters, as bad as Hitler or other fascists who sponsor genocide and abuse their power for personal gain. I actually told Evangeline that I think the wizard is an evil man, which she took as me being silly, which I suppose I was.)
So far I recommend it.
Sunday, November 28, 2004
the boy next door
The Penn-Trafford Star has a much better write-up about what happened to Jeff Cole:
(And it looks like I was right: Jeff was hurt in an attack, not in an accident.)
Last week, injured Army Spc. Jeff Cole, 20, of Level Green was honored by a personal visit from President George W. Bush.And can you believe, the boy met the president of the United States and didn't brag about it when he came home for Thanksgiving this past week? This was the first I heard of it.
"It was pretty cool," Cole says nonchalantly. "It was definitely something most people can't say they've ever done."
Neither is being thrown from a Humvee.
(And it looks like I was right: Jeff was hurt in an attack, not in an accident.)
deck the halls
The girls and I set up our Christmas tree Friday while their mother was at work, and E even started decorating it. It now has a baby doll, various Kool Toyz pieces and red plastic monkeys hanging from its branches. For a while it had a Barbie up on top of the tree in place of the angel, but since Barbie fell off, we've settled for a balloon.
I'm inclined to let the girls handle the decorating entirely this year, and leave the traditional ornaments locked up.
I'm inclined to let the girls handle the decorating entirely this year, and leave the traditional ornaments locked up.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
When prayer comes like a kick in the gut
Last night, Evangeline and I were reading a bedtime Bible story about Bartimaeus receiving his sight. The question at the end of the story was about what the child most wanted, with an encouragement to ask Jesus for it because he delights in giving us the desire of our hearts.
What does Evangeline say? "All I want is to see Isaac just one more time." Ouch!
If anyone's free and wants a beer, come on over. I'm buying.
The last I heard, he was living with his father, grandmother, aunt and two cousins, so he has some sort of family structure and something approximating siblings, which will give him sorely needed social interaction.
He's talking -- thank God -- and attending a special preschool paid for by the state. He's behind in many areas, but he's making progress, which is what I wanted. He's also settled down quite a lot, owing in part to the discipline we instilled and to his ability to communicate and interact with the world around him.
That's all I know. I've no way of getting in contact with them even if my reason wanted to, so as I told Beloved, if Evangeline's prayer is to be answered, it will be by God and not by her father.
What does Evangeline say? "All I want is to see Isaac just one more time." Ouch!
If anyone's free and wants a beer, come on over. I'm buying.
The last I heard, he was living with his father, grandmother, aunt and two cousins, so he has some sort of family structure and something approximating siblings, which will give him sorely needed social interaction.
He's talking -- thank God -- and attending a special preschool paid for by the state. He's behind in many areas, but he's making progress, which is what I wanted. He's also settled down quite a lot, owing in part to the discipline we instilled and to his ability to communicate and interact with the world around him.
That's all I know. I've no way of getting in contact with them even if my reason wanted to, so as I told Beloved, if Evangeline's prayer is to be answered, it will be by God and not by her father.
Monday, November 22, 2004
Bashing the spirit of responsibility on the Left
Let's do everyone a favor and can the holier-than-thou crap, all right?
Down in Florida, apparently a group of Democrats, unable to accept Kerry's defeat on Tuesday, are so upset that they're getting therapy to help them cope. That's an overreaction, I agree, but what's irritated me right now is one conservative acquaintance who has taken this as proof that liberalism is a philosophy that attracts irresponsible people and encourages irresponsible behavior. The attitude appears to be a common one on the Right.
Maybe if they would stop recycling what conservatives say liberalism is about and consider what liberals say liberalism is about, we'd find a point of commonality.
Liberalism is a socio-political philosophy of responsibility. It called for an end to segregation amid the Civil Rights movement because segregation was oppressive toward blacks. It called for women's suffrage in the early 20th century because the status quo had restricted their voice. Liberals call for a hand up for the poor and needy; they continue to call for a voice for blacks and other minorities; and they call for across-the-board respect for differing worldviews and political positions.
By contrast, if one wanted to be uncharitable we could claim that Republicanism encourages selfishness, inequity and a disregard for the well-being of others.
There are sore losers on the Democratic side, and sore winners on the GOP side. Why? Because both parties have a fair number of boneheads, bedwetters and self-righteous crybabies, to use the language I've been hearing from acquaintances on the Right.
Maybe some have forgotten, but during the Clinton years, there were any number of peopleon the Right who called for Christians to question their allegiance to the American government (James Dobson, re: partial-birth abortion), who kept bumper stickers on their car that said "Pray for our president / May his days be few, may another take his place" and who acted like the nation had fallen off a spiritual precipice by electing Clinton.
Four years ago, I knew a couple Bush-supporters who were practically paralyzed with dread at the thought that Gore might win and Bush lose.
So let's stop knocking one another as whiners. I've had enough of the self-righteous aggrandizement of the Right, the GOP and Bush, I've had enough of the vilification of the Left and the Democratic Party, and I've had enough of this whole sorry mess.
If you want to remove the speck of dust from my eye, take the log out of your own eye first.
Down in Florida, apparently a group of Democrats, unable to accept Kerry's defeat on Tuesday, are so upset that they're getting therapy to help them cope. That's an overreaction, I agree, but what's irritated me right now is one conservative acquaintance who has taken this as proof that liberalism is a philosophy that attracts irresponsible people and encourages irresponsible behavior. The attitude appears to be a common one on the Right.
Maybe if they would stop recycling what conservatives say liberalism is about and consider what liberals say liberalism is about, we'd find a point of commonality.
Liberalism is a socio-political philosophy of responsibility. It called for an end to segregation amid the Civil Rights movement because segregation was oppressive toward blacks. It called for women's suffrage in the early 20th century because the status quo had restricted their voice. Liberals call for a hand up for the poor and needy; they continue to call for a voice for blacks and other minorities; and they call for across-the-board respect for differing worldviews and political positions.
By contrast, if one wanted to be uncharitable we could claim that Republicanism encourages selfishness, inequity and a disregard for the well-being of others.
There are sore losers on the Democratic side, and sore winners on the GOP side. Why? Because both parties have a fair number of boneheads, bedwetters and self-righteous crybabies, to use the language I've been hearing from acquaintances on the Right.
Maybe some have forgotten, but during the Clinton years, there were any number of people
Four years ago, I knew a couple Bush-supporters who were practically paralyzed with dread at the thought that Gore might win and Bush lose.
So let's stop knocking one another as whiners. I've had enough of the self-righteous aggrandizement of the Right, the GOP and Bush, I've had enough of the vilification of the Left and the Democratic Party, and I've had enough of this whole sorry mess.
If you want to remove the speck of dust from my eye, take the log out of your own eye first.
Friday, November 05, 2004
moral values
What bugs me is that the definition of "moral values" has become so narrow, and mainly seems to be related to sex. I'm a Democrat because of my moral values. While neither party is perfect, the Democrats seem to me to be more concerned with the moral issues that are most important to me: feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, educating the masses.
Republican approaches to these issues seem to be more concerned with making sure that no one is cheating the system than with making sure the needy actually get what they need. Democrats are more likely to be against the death penalty, and they are more likely to look for peaceful solutions to our international problems, as opposed to military solutions.
Unfortunately, the media don't seem to really want to analyze actual issues. It's much easier to say that Republicans are more likely to cast votes based on morals (implying that Democrats are less moral than Republicans) than actually take the time to look at what that means. I would say that almost all of us make our morals a major consideration when we vote, but we don't all base them on what the Republican Party and the media have managed to define as morality.
-- Rob Timmins
Republican approaches to these issues seem to be more concerned with making sure that no one is cheating the system than with making sure the needy actually get what they need. Democrats are more likely to be against the death penalty, and they are more likely to look for peaceful solutions to our international problems, as opposed to military solutions.
Unfortunately, the media don't seem to really want to analyze actual issues. It's much easier to say that Republicans are more likely to cast votes based on morals (implying that Democrats are less moral than Republicans) than actually take the time to look at what that means. I would say that almost all of us make our morals a major consideration when we vote, but we don't all base them on what the Republican Party and the media have managed to define as morality.
-- Rob Timmins
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