Once again, Rachel Held Evans' blog is featured, but this time it's this guest post about re-configuring our arguments about homosexuality in the church. I happen to really enjoy reading and hearing arguments that are simply presented, not supported or condemned. I like it when someone has the intellectual integrity to say, "Here is a way of thinking," without feeling the need to let you know how they feel about it. It gives me more room to make up my own mind. Anyway, if that's not your thing, you can skip this one, but i enjoyed it.
I'm a sucker for the romance and mystery of abandoned places, and these photos are so particularly dream-like and artistic that i could easily spend all day looking at them and imagining their stories. Also, there are very few of these places that i would be unwilling to visit, or even live in.
Okay, so i have never seen an episode of Dr. Who. I know, i know, the authorities are coming by later today to revoke my Nerd Card. Anyway, the point is that this post still made sense to and resonated with me. Our personal beliefs and convictions are very important, and it is possible for two people who believe different things to both be right, but the fact that you believe a thing does not make you correct. Your convictions can be based on prejudice, misunderstanding, or even habit. Be willing to be wrong.
I've also not read any of the Game of Thrones books or seen any of the show. I'm the worst nerd ever. The only way i can redeem myself at this point is to attend some kind of comics convention, and i'm just not willing to go that far. But for missing out on George R. R. Martin i can redeem myself a little, because of this post. One tiny excerpt of awesomeness:
"Cersei is evil, eeeeeevil. How do we know she's evil? She's consensually fucking more than one dude, OBVS. Also, she's saying things like "that time you betrothed me to a guy when I was a kid, and then I had to sleep with him even though I didn't want to? That was basically rape" and "nobody has any problems if a DUDE sleeps around, but when I do it's somehow the most damning evidence against my character" and "given the patriarchal slant of our society, sometimes I wish I was a guy!" So, just to be clear: The only female character who consistently levies an institutional critique of sexism in these books? Evil. Eeeeeevilllllllll! You surprised?"
Oh hey, another Rachel Held Evans post! I, also, do not witness on airplanes! I do not witness on Amtrak trains! I do not witness in the park! I do not witness in the dark! I do not like green eggs and ham! Because unsolicited talking about your personal beliefs honestly makes me feel creepy and overbearing and terrible, and i know that i personally would never be won over by such tactics, so i'll have to find some other way of sharing the Gospel! Like maybe by taking care of the least of these and loving my neighbors and all the other stuff that Jesus told us to do!
Last week, someone asked me what Mansplaining was. This post is a really beautiful example of Mansplaining; in fact, it is an example of a man Mansplaining feminism to a woman who writes about feminism professionally. This excerpt is pure gold:
". . . Professor Feminism . . . frames it as a discussion of whether I believe 'men can discuss sexism.' . . . I pointed out that these commenters were men, and hinted as politely as possible at the sexist, Mansplaining dynamic, by asking them if they could 'see a theme.' Apparently, Professor Feminism is not Professor Good At Picking Up Hints, however, because now he thinks I am saying that men should NEVER be allowed to discuss feminism AT ALL, and of course if men can't criticize feminists, what's the point of reading feminists, or attempting to understand feminists?
"Ha ha, yeah. WHAT COULD THE POINT POSSIBLY BE.
"Actually, at this point, I'm pretty confident that Professor Feminism is not Professor Understands Sarcasm, either, so I'll spell it out: The point of listening to women and feminists is to listen to women and feminists. Because if you listen to them, you might start to understand certain basic points, such as: women do not automatically have to accept you as an expert, particularly not when the subject under discussion (sexism!) is something you've never experienced first-hand. Women do not have to make you 'comfortable' and 'welcome' in every single conversation. Women do not have to permit you to enter their political movements, their self-created spaces, their personal space, their bodies, or anything else that belongs to them; you, as a man, are not entitled to women's attention, praise, affection, respect, or company, just because you want it. And when a woman says 'no', you respect that this particular woman said 'no', and you stop. You don't make excuses, you don't explain why you should be able to get what you want, you don't throw a tantrum, you don't call that woman names: You just stop what you are doing. Because she said 'no'."
So, i have super mixed feelings about Mad Men. On the one hand, the writing is superb, and i can enjoy just about anything if it is well written. On the other hand, there's lots of sexism and racism and homophobia and classism and all kinds of other terrible -isms. On the other hand, that stuff is meant to be illustrative of Things That Are Wrong In Society, and how we think we're so enlightened and progressive, but really the only thing that's changed in fifty years is the outfits. On the other hand, just because the show is meant as a subtle critique of Bad Things doesn't mean that everyone who watches it and loves it gets that, and many viewers watch the show and long for the days when you could smoke inside, drink at work before noon, and rape as many secretaries as you wanted to. On the other hand, just because some people misinterpret a work doesn't mean that the work is bad. On the other hand, if lots of people misinterpret a work, maybe it's not very well done. On the other hand, Christina Hendricks is mad sexy. So, yeah. I have mixed feelings.
And funny story: my boyfriend and i recently had a fight about Mad Men and how art can be destructive if misunderstood, and if lots of people are misunderstanding your art, maybe it's not very good art? If the story isn't clear to everyone, maybe it's not a story worth telling? And i tend to think that, while all of these things are good points, Mad Men is subtle enough to work its way under your skin and slowly build itself into a healthier worldview for you, just the way that everything else in culture slowly indoctrinates you to be a shitty person.
Example: lots of movies, TV shows, books, poems, paintings, etc., depict rape. Overwhelmingly, rape scenes are portrayed from the male point of view, and are often highly eroticized. So we get this idea that rape is hot, and that girls don't really mind that much when you do it to them. In Mad Men, on the other hand, one of the most famous rape scenes (often referred to as a "rape" scene, because people don't understand rape very well) is from the victim's point of view. Joan's fiance pins her down, holds her hands, and drags up her dress. She fights at first, but then gives up. The camera travels to her face, her eyes carefully blank: this is happening to her, and there is now no turning back. Then the camera actually captures her literal point of view: the scene ends with a shot of the floor, couch, and coffee table that Joan is looking at as she is being raped. "Normal" rape scenes make rape seem sexy, and sometimes even funny and not really rape. This rape scene shows the victim actually being violated. It's sad that i have to spell it out that clearly, but again: people don't understand rape very well.
Anyway. This post is a good example of my mixed feelings. And it starts with a photo of Christina Hendricks, so, two reasons to read it.
This post is what made me start reading Tiger Beatdown. It beautifully articulates a lot of things that make me uncomfortable about Occupy, hipsters, and a lot of other things that Kids These Days are up to.
This is my new favorite fairy tale.
And speaking of Mansplaining, here's another great example.
Showing posts with label ramble. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ramble. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
vocabulary lesson: mourning
We say some weird shit to people when someone dies.
Like, "I'm sorry." I used to hate this one. I always thought, "Sorry for what? You didn't kill them." Of course, what they mean is, "I feel sad that you are sad," but that's an awkward thing to say. Maybe just don't say anything? Maybe just give them a hug and bake them cookies or something? Because a huge part of caring about another person is being sad that they are sad. Which means that, when someone dies, it's sort of implied in the nature of your relationship that you feel sad that they are sad. So maybe instead of making awkward and incomplete statements about your feelings, just put your feelings on display. Show, don't tell. And if you're not so close that you hurt when they hurt, maybe just say something like, "That's so sad."
Another weird one is when you (the mourner) are crying/distracted/otherwise upset, and you apologize. I was talking about this one with my pastor yesterday, actually. He was saying how messed up it is that when someone you love dies and you express appropriate emotion over that fact, you somehow feel like you have to apologize to the people around you, who presumably didn't have a relationship with the deceased, or they would be crying too and would therefore require no apology? It's so weird! Like, "I'm sad because of something in my life that doesn't really touch you, and I'm sorry that --" What? Sorry that I'm sad? Sorry that i'm expressing my feelings? Sorry that i have feelings that you are not a part of? There is nothing to apologize for. So my pastor has decided that he won't be apologizing for that anymore, and neither will i.
Here's my favorite: the empathetic backdoor . . . It's not really a backdoor brag, i guess, but it's a backdoor something. Like this morning, when i was talking to some people in my office about taking time off of work to go to Bryan's funeral. One of the people i had to talk to outranks me, but isn't my boss exactly, but she runs campus visits and i sit at the front desk, so when i'm out and people visit it's awkward. So we were talking, and she knew Bryan a little, so she was like, "I didn't even know he was sick, it's so sad, blah blah blah." And i'm like, "Yeah, he was diagnosed about a year and a half, two years ago. Colon cancer. It was stage 4 when they found it, so we knew he probably wouldn't make it." And she's like, "Yeah, I have a friend who was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer, too, about a year and a half ago. And they did all kinds of treatments, and chemo and surgery and everything, and they ended up removing most of her liver. Because the cancer had spread to her liver. But, you know, she made it, and she's doing okay now." Um. Congratulations on your friend being on the other side of the statistic? What the fuck is the point of telling me this story?
Let people have their grief, okay? If you want to let them know that you know what they're going through, just say, "I know what you're going through," and don't elaborate. Especially if your story demonstrates that you DON'T, that you CAN'T, know what they're going through.
Also awkward is all of the euphemisms we use. I know that just saying "He died" is too harsh, too abrupt, but sometimes the euphemisms make you downright incomprehensible. When we got the news about Bryan, i texted one of his friends to let her know. At a loss for words, i said, "Bryan went home." "Home?" she asked. "His forever home," i clarified. On the other side of it, i once wrote a Facebook status update about my brother's progress in the hospital, and i said that he had passed a test, and someone told me that i scared them because they saw "Adam passed" and thought he was dead. Do all of these death euphemisms actually make people feel better? And if so, why? Which one is the best? "Passed, passed on, gone, gone home, passed over, left us, no longer with us, gone on," etc., etc.?
I mean, that's the reality, is that they're dead. And honestly, some of these euphemisms are almost worse. Bryan went home, huh? I know that theologically it's sound, but it's also kind of a shitty sentiment: was he so out of place here that it wasn't a home for him at all? Ever? Not even a little bit? Was there no moment in 27 years when he thought, "I belong here"? Or when we say that someone has passed, i always think of ghost stories where they talk about spirits passing over. It seems creepy and impersonal. Death is so black-and-white, so cut-and-dried, and i find that comforting. There's no room for equivocation, no room for political correctness or white lies or tact or passive-aggression. It simply is what it is. Everything else in life is so fraught and angsty and layered, but death is just death.
In other words, it's been one hell of a month, and i have lost the ability to talk about it "appropriately". The vocabulary i use and the stories i hear or tell don't change my feelings, and it's not my job to protect anyone else's feelings from reality.
Like, "I'm sorry." I used to hate this one. I always thought, "Sorry for what? You didn't kill them." Of course, what they mean is, "I feel sad that you are sad," but that's an awkward thing to say. Maybe just don't say anything? Maybe just give them a hug and bake them cookies or something? Because a huge part of caring about another person is being sad that they are sad. Which means that, when someone dies, it's sort of implied in the nature of your relationship that you feel sad that they are sad. So maybe instead of making awkward and incomplete statements about your feelings, just put your feelings on display. Show, don't tell. And if you're not so close that you hurt when they hurt, maybe just say something like, "That's so sad."
Another weird one is when you (the mourner) are crying/distracted/otherwise upset, and you apologize. I was talking about this one with my pastor yesterday, actually. He was saying how messed up it is that when someone you love dies and you express appropriate emotion over that fact, you somehow feel like you have to apologize to the people around you, who presumably didn't have a relationship with the deceased, or they would be crying too and would therefore require no apology? It's so weird! Like, "I'm sad because of something in my life that doesn't really touch you, and I'm sorry that --" What? Sorry that I'm sad? Sorry that i'm expressing my feelings? Sorry that i have feelings that you are not a part of? There is nothing to apologize for. So my pastor has decided that he won't be apologizing for that anymore, and neither will i.
Here's my favorite: the empathetic backdoor . . . It's not really a backdoor brag, i guess, but it's a backdoor something. Like this morning, when i was talking to some people in my office about taking time off of work to go to Bryan's funeral. One of the people i had to talk to outranks me, but isn't my boss exactly, but she runs campus visits and i sit at the front desk, so when i'm out and people visit it's awkward. So we were talking, and she knew Bryan a little, so she was like, "I didn't even know he was sick, it's so sad, blah blah blah." And i'm like, "Yeah, he was diagnosed about a year and a half, two years ago. Colon cancer. It was stage 4 when they found it, so we knew he probably wouldn't make it." And she's like, "Yeah, I have a friend who was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer, too, about a year and a half ago. And they did all kinds of treatments, and chemo and surgery and everything, and they ended up removing most of her liver. Because the cancer had spread to her liver. But, you know, she made it, and she's doing okay now." Um. Congratulations on your friend being on the other side of the statistic? What the fuck is the point of telling me this story?
Let people have their grief, okay? If you want to let them know that you know what they're going through, just say, "I know what you're going through," and don't elaborate. Especially if your story demonstrates that you DON'T, that you CAN'T, know what they're going through.
Also awkward is all of the euphemisms we use. I know that just saying "He died" is too harsh, too abrupt, but sometimes the euphemisms make you downright incomprehensible. When we got the news about Bryan, i texted one of his friends to let her know. At a loss for words, i said, "Bryan went home." "Home?" she asked. "His forever home," i clarified. On the other side of it, i once wrote a Facebook status update about my brother's progress in the hospital, and i said that he had passed a test, and someone told me that i scared them because they saw "Adam passed" and thought he was dead. Do all of these death euphemisms actually make people feel better? And if so, why? Which one is the best? "Passed, passed on, gone, gone home, passed over, left us, no longer with us, gone on," etc., etc.?
I mean, that's the reality, is that they're dead. And honestly, some of these euphemisms are almost worse. Bryan went home, huh? I know that theologically it's sound, but it's also kind of a shitty sentiment: was he so out of place here that it wasn't a home for him at all? Ever? Not even a little bit? Was there no moment in 27 years when he thought, "I belong here"? Or when we say that someone has passed, i always think of ghost stories where they talk about spirits passing over. It seems creepy and impersonal. Death is so black-and-white, so cut-and-dried, and i find that comforting. There's no room for equivocation, no room for political correctness or white lies or tact or passive-aggression. It simply is what it is. Everything else in life is so fraught and angsty and layered, but death is just death.
In other words, it's been one hell of a month, and i have lost the ability to talk about it "appropriately". The vocabulary i use and the stories i hear or tell don't change my feelings, and it's not my job to protect anyone else's feelings from reality.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
why my boyfriend is a saint
You guys, i am a fucking handful.
It's not just the bouts of depression and anxiety, or the tendency to lash out in anger at the wrong people, or the habit of rambling on and on long past the point where i've said what i wanted to say, or the constant distractions of the written word, or my tumultuous relationship with my parents, or my penchant for melodramatic hyperbole, or my difficulty with expressing my negative feelings productively, or my flirtations with vegetarianism, or my bizarre affection for my cat (have i mentioned my tendency to ramble unnecessarily?).
All of that is mostly manageable, and mostly improving, and some of it is charming (as i keep trying to explain to him). Even all of it together isn't really all that bad; after all, we all have our flaws, charming or otherwise, we all carry our baggage and our scars, and anyone who gets into a relationship and isn't expecting at least some crap to be flung at their head is either extremely deluded or is in a relationship with a robot, sex doll, or other inanimate object.
But here's the thing: i can't live in the moment.
Some moments, yes. A moment that is particularly thrilling, moving, absorbing. I was completely wrapped up in Les Miserables. I was totally enthralled this morning when taking notes in a class. I am 100% focused during sex. When my brother was shot, i lived in the moment for weeks. I could barely think far enough ahead to go to work and feed myself each day. When something touches the very core of me, i will live in as many moments as it gives me.
But in every day life, i'm too eager. When things are going well, i want to run ahead and climb the next hill, because i can't wait to see how much better life will be. When things are going badly, i want to run away and over the next hill, because i can't wait for things to change. I can't just sit and let my bad feelings simmer and mellow. I can't just sit and let my good feelings deepen and expand. I have to get to the next thing.
This is especially apparent in my relationship.
John is very much about the moment. He rarely makes plans more than three weeks in advance. So when i'm trying to make plans for Valentine's day (just over three weeks away) or our anniversary (just over three months away) or Thanksgiving (hey, i told you i had a problem), his eyes are glazing over and he's saying, "It's January 23rd. How about if we make plans for the weekend?" And i'm like, "Okay, and then we can make plans for our 47th wedding anniversary!"
And that's the crux of the issue. I don't really know how to be someone's girlfriend.
I know how to be a friend. I know how to be someone's flirty friend who secretly has a crush on them and on whom they secretly have a crush. I know how to do the early stages of the relationship, where you're still a little awkward, still figuring out the rhythms of conversation and kissing, still testing your boundaries. And i know that the end game is marriage. Honestly, there has never been a point in my life where i seriously doubted whether i would ever get married. I always knew that i would some day, and i obviously knew that i would be dating the guy for a while first. But in my head, the fantasy was like, meet a guy in the library, flirt shamelessly for a few weeks, go on some coffee dates, go on some dinner dates, go to some concerts and plays, attend some events (like weddings and parties), meet the families, fall more and more in love, and then get married.
And we've done all that. We've seen plays and concerts, we've gone to a wedding, we've met the families, we're in love, we've done birthdays and Christmases and we're approaching our second anniversary. We've hit all the milestones, passed all the standards. So now my brain is telling me that the next step is to get married.
And that's true, to an extent. The next major thing that John and i do will either be to get married or break up. That's just how relationships go. But when i say "next thing", i don't necessarily mean "tomorrow" or "next week". Maybe next year, but that's still a long way away, and is by no means definite.
There are still questions i have to answer about him, and questions he has to answer about me. We've both seen things in the other person that we're not sure we want in our life partner. We've both seen a lack of things in the other person that we think we might want in our life partner. We've both seen things that are not necessarily issues or deficits, but are differences between us that may not be reconcilable. Logically, i know that we are not ready to get married yet. I need to finish my M. Ed. and get a job, he needs to get into and complete a master's program of his own, we need to find an apartment and a church, i need to get my budget under control, he needs to pick a book for Bible study . . . Logically, i know we are not ready to get married yet. I just don't know what to do right now, how to be his serious, long-term girlfriend without pressing him to move forward.
But he still puts up with me. His eyes may (definitely) glaze over when i start talking about wedding crap, but he lets me ramble. I may ask him every other day (or six times every day) what he wants to do for our anniversary, but he is still patient and gentle when he says, "I don't know. It's still three months away." He may get a little scared sometimes and give me a quick lecture on managing my expectations, but he doesn't run away. In fact, he is still excited to see me every day, still wants to snuggle me closer, still wants to make plans with me and dream dreams with me and anticipate a future with me, even if that future only extends three weeks from now. So i try to keep a tight grip on my horses and look around me a little more, because this moment i'm in right now? It's pretty damn amazing, and i want to make sure i cherish it.
It's not just the bouts of depression and anxiety, or the tendency to lash out in anger at the wrong people, or the habit of rambling on and on long past the point where i've said what i wanted to say, or the constant distractions of the written word, or my tumultuous relationship with my parents, or my penchant for melodramatic hyperbole, or my difficulty with expressing my negative feelings productively, or my flirtations with vegetarianism, or my bizarre affection for my cat (have i mentioned my tendency to ramble unnecessarily?).
All of that is mostly manageable, and mostly improving, and some of it is charming (as i keep trying to explain to him). Even all of it together isn't really all that bad; after all, we all have our flaws, charming or otherwise, we all carry our baggage and our scars, and anyone who gets into a relationship and isn't expecting at least some crap to be flung at their head is either extremely deluded or is in a relationship with a robot, sex doll, or other inanimate object.
But here's the thing: i can't live in the moment.
Some moments, yes. A moment that is particularly thrilling, moving, absorbing. I was completely wrapped up in Les Miserables. I was totally enthralled this morning when taking notes in a class. I am 100% focused during sex. When my brother was shot, i lived in the moment for weeks. I could barely think far enough ahead to go to work and feed myself each day. When something touches the very core of me, i will live in as many moments as it gives me.
But in every day life, i'm too eager. When things are going well, i want to run ahead and climb the next hill, because i can't wait to see how much better life will be. When things are going badly, i want to run away and over the next hill, because i can't wait for things to change. I can't just sit and let my bad feelings simmer and mellow. I can't just sit and let my good feelings deepen and expand. I have to get to the next thing.
This is especially apparent in my relationship.
John is very much about the moment. He rarely makes plans more than three weeks in advance. So when i'm trying to make plans for Valentine's day (just over three weeks away) or our anniversary (just over three months away) or Thanksgiving (hey, i told you i had a problem), his eyes are glazing over and he's saying, "It's January 23rd. How about if we make plans for the weekend?" And i'm like, "Okay, and then we can make plans for our 47th wedding anniversary!"
And that's the crux of the issue. I don't really know how to be someone's girlfriend.
I know how to be a friend. I know how to be someone's flirty friend who secretly has a crush on them and on whom they secretly have a crush. I know how to do the early stages of the relationship, where you're still a little awkward, still figuring out the rhythms of conversation and kissing, still testing your boundaries. And i know that the end game is marriage. Honestly, there has never been a point in my life where i seriously doubted whether i would ever get married. I always knew that i would some day, and i obviously knew that i would be dating the guy for a while first. But in my head, the fantasy was like, meet a guy in the library, flirt shamelessly for a few weeks, go on some coffee dates, go on some dinner dates, go to some concerts and plays, attend some events (like weddings and parties), meet the families, fall more and more in love, and then get married.
And we've done all that. We've seen plays and concerts, we've gone to a wedding, we've met the families, we're in love, we've done birthdays and Christmases and we're approaching our second anniversary. We've hit all the milestones, passed all the standards. So now my brain is telling me that the next step is to get married.
And that's true, to an extent. The next major thing that John and i do will either be to get married or break up. That's just how relationships go. But when i say "next thing", i don't necessarily mean "tomorrow" or "next week". Maybe next year, but that's still a long way away, and is by no means definite.
There are still questions i have to answer about him, and questions he has to answer about me. We've both seen things in the other person that we're not sure we want in our life partner. We've both seen a lack of things in the other person that we think we might want in our life partner. We've both seen things that are not necessarily issues or deficits, but are differences between us that may not be reconcilable. Logically, i know that we are not ready to get married yet. I need to finish my M. Ed. and get a job, he needs to get into and complete a master's program of his own, we need to find an apartment and a church, i need to get my budget under control, he needs to pick a book for Bible study . . . Logically, i know we are not ready to get married yet. I just don't know what to do right now, how to be his serious, long-term girlfriend without pressing him to move forward.
But he still puts up with me. His eyes may (definitely) glaze over when i start talking about wedding crap, but he lets me ramble. I may ask him every other day (or six times every day) what he wants to do for our anniversary, but he is still patient and gentle when he says, "I don't know. It's still three months away." He may get a little scared sometimes and give me a quick lecture on managing my expectations, but he doesn't run away. In fact, he is still excited to see me every day, still wants to snuggle me closer, still wants to make plans with me and dream dreams with me and anticipate a future with me, even if that future only extends three weeks from now. So i try to keep a tight grip on my horses and look around me a little more, because this moment i'm in right now? It's pretty damn amazing, and i want to make sure i cherish it.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
New Year, New Obsession
I mentioned before that i'm trying to be healthier. Let's talk about how that's going.
I have been faithfully going to the gym three times a week for an hour each time for the last week and a half, except for one time when i gave up after forty minutes because the elliptical was hard to use. Don't laugh. It's tough to find your rhythm at first. Plus my knee was really hurting and i wanted to cry. But i still made it through forty minutes, so suck it.
Originally, i was planning to switch between the treadmill and the elliptical. The elliptical is better for my knees, because it's a lower-impact machine, but for that same reason it's not as good for muscle tone and bone strength. When you're forcing your bones and muscles to propel you forward and hold you upright, they get better at doing it, and then when you're old you won't have to worry so much about things like osteoporosis or becoming feeble. But i've noticed that i turn my right foot slightly outwards, which is probably why my right knee hurts way more than my left one. This tendency is easier to see and correct on the elliptical, so i'm mostly sticking to that now.
I'm using this app called My Fitness Pal to keep track of how i'm doing. It's pretty easy, and i like it a lot. Instead of one of those programs that tells you to eat four cups of steamed broccoli and do sixty crunches, this program is just a way to track what you're already doing and how successful your efforts are. When you set up your profile, you tell it things about your current status (weight, age, health conditions, etc.) and your goals (faster, stronger, thinner, etc.). You also put in your fitness plans (run thirty minutes every day or whatever.). Based on your age, weight, sex, lifestyle (as in, are you a sedentary office worker like me?), and fitness goals, it gives you a recommendation for net calories and an estimate for when you'll reach your goal. Each day, you input what you've eaten and what you've done, and it tells you what your net calories are. It also tells you how well you're matching your fitness goals by saying things like, "If every day is like this one, you'll lose one pound a week!" or "If every day is like this one, you'll be down to 214 pounds in five weeks!" (NB: they didn't ask me to write a review or anything, and the app is free. I highly recommend it.)
I usually eat very well, so the only real difference is that i'm being faithful about going to the gym three times a week, and that i'm giving myself less leeway for things like snacking. It used to be that i would sometimes get hungry in the afternoon and run over to the school store for some chips and a candy bar, to keep up my strength in the two hours remaining until dinner. (Go ahead and roll your eyes at me. I rolled my eyes at myself every time, but i did it anyway.) Now, when i want a snack, i eat something healthy, or i just stay hungry. I mean, i live in the USA, and i have a job and a home. I can live for five hours without food. I need to stop being such a drama queen about hunger, when i'm so much luckier in that regard than so many other people.
But let's take a minute to talk about my healthy snacks.
Have you ever eaten roasted salted almonds? Not chocolate covered almonds, or almonds crushed up in ice cream or a candy bar, or almonds coated in toffee or honey and cinnamon. Just plain, roasted almonds, lightly dusted with sea salt.
Did you know that they taste like cream?
One of my roommates was mildly obsessed with almonds for a while and ate them every day. But she ate, like, wasabi almonds, or chocolate mint dusted almonds, or whatever. They were all dressed up in other flavors. I don't know why anyone, having tasted what a plain almond is like, would ever want to mask that flavor. All i want to do is pair it with other amazing things, like dried cherries. Dried cherries! Why would anyone eat dried cranberries or raisins when there are tart, spicy, wine-like dried cherries in the world?! Dried cherries or dried apricots with plain almonds can render me speechless. Pair with a tiny bite of dark chocolate and it's hard to imagine anything more mind-meltingly delicious. (Of course, i say things like that and then i hear Tina Fey's voice in my head saying, "I don't know. Have you ever put a doughnut in the microwave?")
And then there's raw honey.
I've been learning more about honey and bees, because i'm worried about Colony Collapse Disorder (Google it. It's terrifying.) and what it means for the future of the planet, and i'm interested in healthy, natural foods that taste amazing, and i want to support local apiarists who treat their bees well, and i want to be exposed to real honey, not the processed clover crap that comes from a plastic bear. (Apparently, apiarists who make clover honey tend to treat their bees very poorly.) Bee Raw has shown me things about honey that i never thought possible. Their Florida orange blossom honey tastes like floral green tea. Their Maine wild raspberry honey tastes like butter. And the orange blossom honey with aged cheddar cheese and fresh bread is like manna from Heaven. Did you know that you could eat honey with cheese? Did you know that when you do, it will change your life? Did you know that raw honey can help reduce or eliminate suffering from seasonal allergies? Did you know that raw honey blends smoothly into even cold liquid, unlike processed honey, which tends to sink to the bottom stubbornly? Did you know that raw honey, whisked together with lime juice and a little mustard, makes a low-calorie salad dressing or marinade that is better than anything you could buy in the store? (Except Ranch, obviously. Nothing is better than Ranch.)
Don't worry. This isn't about to become a health and fitness blog. It will always be the bizarre hodgepodge you've come to know and love: bitching about my roommates or work or money, gushing sappy garbage about my boyfriend, talking about my mental illness(es), updating you on my comic book, reflecting on my daily devotions, and making absolute statements about education and writing and civil rights and the economy and politics and so forth. But sometimes, i will also talk about honey or the gym or salads. I'm growing as a person. It's beautiful and magical, so come with me on this crazy journey of life or shut up and read someone else's blog.
I have been faithfully going to the gym three times a week for an hour each time for the last week and a half, except for one time when i gave up after forty minutes because the elliptical was hard to use. Don't laugh. It's tough to find your rhythm at first. Plus my knee was really hurting and i wanted to cry. But i still made it through forty minutes, so suck it.
Originally, i was planning to switch between the treadmill and the elliptical. The elliptical is better for my knees, because it's a lower-impact machine, but for that same reason it's not as good for muscle tone and bone strength. When you're forcing your bones and muscles to propel you forward and hold you upright, they get better at doing it, and then when you're old you won't have to worry so much about things like osteoporosis or becoming feeble. But i've noticed that i turn my right foot slightly outwards, which is probably why my right knee hurts way more than my left one. This tendency is easier to see and correct on the elliptical, so i'm mostly sticking to that now.
I'm using this app called My Fitness Pal to keep track of how i'm doing. It's pretty easy, and i like it a lot. Instead of one of those programs that tells you to eat four cups of steamed broccoli and do sixty crunches, this program is just a way to track what you're already doing and how successful your efforts are. When you set up your profile, you tell it things about your current status (weight, age, health conditions, etc.) and your goals (faster, stronger, thinner, etc.). You also put in your fitness plans (run thirty minutes every day or whatever.). Based on your age, weight, sex, lifestyle (as in, are you a sedentary office worker like me?), and fitness goals, it gives you a recommendation for net calories and an estimate for when you'll reach your goal. Each day, you input what you've eaten and what you've done, and it tells you what your net calories are. It also tells you how well you're matching your fitness goals by saying things like, "If every day is like this one, you'll lose one pound a week!" or "If every day is like this one, you'll be down to 214 pounds in five weeks!" (NB: they didn't ask me to write a review or anything, and the app is free. I highly recommend it.)
I usually eat very well, so the only real difference is that i'm being faithful about going to the gym three times a week, and that i'm giving myself less leeway for things like snacking. It used to be that i would sometimes get hungry in the afternoon and run over to the school store for some chips and a candy bar, to keep up my strength in the two hours remaining until dinner. (Go ahead and roll your eyes at me. I rolled my eyes at myself every time, but i did it anyway.) Now, when i want a snack, i eat something healthy, or i just stay hungry. I mean, i live in the USA, and i have a job and a home. I can live for five hours without food. I need to stop being such a drama queen about hunger, when i'm so much luckier in that regard than so many other people.
But let's take a minute to talk about my healthy snacks.
Have you ever eaten roasted salted almonds? Not chocolate covered almonds, or almonds crushed up in ice cream or a candy bar, or almonds coated in toffee or honey and cinnamon. Just plain, roasted almonds, lightly dusted with sea salt.
Did you know that they taste like cream?
One of my roommates was mildly obsessed with almonds for a while and ate them every day. But she ate, like, wasabi almonds, or chocolate mint dusted almonds, or whatever. They were all dressed up in other flavors. I don't know why anyone, having tasted what a plain almond is like, would ever want to mask that flavor. All i want to do is pair it with other amazing things, like dried cherries. Dried cherries! Why would anyone eat dried cranberries or raisins when there are tart, spicy, wine-like dried cherries in the world?! Dried cherries or dried apricots with plain almonds can render me speechless. Pair with a tiny bite of dark chocolate and it's hard to imagine anything more mind-meltingly delicious. (Of course, i say things like that and then i hear Tina Fey's voice in my head saying, "I don't know. Have you ever put a doughnut in the microwave?")
And then there's raw honey.I've been learning more about honey and bees, because i'm worried about Colony Collapse Disorder (Google it. It's terrifying.) and what it means for the future of the planet, and i'm interested in healthy, natural foods that taste amazing, and i want to support local apiarists who treat their bees well, and i want to be exposed to real honey, not the processed clover crap that comes from a plastic bear. (Apparently, apiarists who make clover honey tend to treat their bees very poorly.) Bee Raw has shown me things about honey that i never thought possible. Their Florida orange blossom honey tastes like floral green tea. Their Maine wild raspberry honey tastes like butter. And the orange blossom honey with aged cheddar cheese and fresh bread is like manna from Heaven. Did you know that you could eat honey with cheese? Did you know that when you do, it will change your life? Did you know that raw honey can help reduce or eliminate suffering from seasonal allergies? Did you know that raw honey blends smoothly into even cold liquid, unlike processed honey, which tends to sink to the bottom stubbornly? Did you know that raw honey, whisked together with lime juice and a little mustard, makes a low-calorie salad dressing or marinade that is better than anything you could buy in the store? (Except Ranch, obviously. Nothing is better than Ranch.)
Don't worry. This isn't about to become a health and fitness blog. It will always be the bizarre hodgepodge you've come to know and love: bitching about my roommates or work or money, gushing sappy garbage about my boyfriend, talking about my mental illness(es), updating you on my comic book, reflecting on my daily devotions, and making absolute statements about education and writing and civil rights and the economy and politics and so forth. But sometimes, i will also talk about honey or the gym or salads. I'm growing as a person. It's beautiful and magical, so come with me on this crazy journey of life or shut up and read someone else's blog.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Revelations 17-22, Genesis 1-22
Genesis 4:15
And the Lord said to him, "Therefore, whoever kills Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold." And the Lord set a mark on Cain, lest anyone finding him should kill him.
God says over and over again that only He is allowed to kill people, that only He is allowed to have vengeance, to take life. Yet in this first story of murder, God not only declines to kill Cain himself, but prevents anyone else from killing him. God goes out of His way to protect the first murderer.
Genesis 12:1
Now the Lord had said to Abram:
"Get out of your country,
From your kindred
And from your father's house,
To a land that I will show you."
What intrigues me about this is that final line: to a land that I will show you. God didn't say, "Go to Egypt", or "travel west for seven weeks" or anything like that. He just told Abram to go until He said to stop. Abram was traveling blind, placing his trust entirely in God's hands.
What's especially interesting is that, when you read on, you see that Abram messed up and wasn't able to get where he was going until he set it right. God said to leave his family behind, but Abram brought along his nephew, Lot. Abram and Lot camped out in Canaan and Jordan for a while, but Abram's servants and Lot's servants quarreled, because there wasn't enough water and food for everyone. So they parted ways, and Abram got stuck with Canaan. At which point God said, "This is where I wanted you to be."
Sometimes we just have to go until God tells us to stop. When we start to feel lost or confused, we should review what God told us to do. Have we followed His whole instruction, or only part of it? Is there something else we could be doing? Make sure we're doing what we're supposed to be doing, and then keep doing it until God tells us to stop.
Genesis 18:16-33
This is the passage where God decides to destroy Sodom and Abraham intercedes for them. Every time someone says something like, "We shouldn't question God; his ways are higher than ours," I want to beat them over the head with a baseball bat and scream these verses into their faces. God proclaimed His intentions, and Abraham argued with Him and got Him to change His mind. God wants us to engage with Him, to talk to Him, to press for what we think is right. Is there a time and a place for us to shut up and accept what God gives us? Absolutely. In fact, if you read the passage, Abraham is bargaining with God for righteous people in the city. He starts out with fifty: "Suppose there were fifty righteous within the city; would You also destroy the place and not spare it for the fifty righteous that were in it?" He gets God to agree that it is worth saving the city, if fifty righteous people can be found within it. And then Abraham keeps bargaining, and talks God down to ten. If they can find ten righteous people in the city, it will be spared.
But that's how messed up this city is: there are not even ten righteous people in it. God generally has really good reasons for what He's doing. Yet He still allows us to ask questions, to doubt and argue, to engage Him in debate. He's awesome that way.
And the Lord said to him, "Therefore, whoever kills Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold." And the Lord set a mark on Cain, lest anyone finding him should kill him.
God says over and over again that only He is allowed to kill people, that only He is allowed to have vengeance, to take life. Yet in this first story of murder, God not only declines to kill Cain himself, but prevents anyone else from killing him. God goes out of His way to protect the first murderer.
Genesis 12:1
Now the Lord had said to Abram:
"Get out of your country,
From your kindred
And from your father's house,
To a land that I will show you."
What intrigues me about this is that final line: to a land that I will show you. God didn't say, "Go to Egypt", or "travel west for seven weeks" or anything like that. He just told Abram to go until He said to stop. Abram was traveling blind, placing his trust entirely in God's hands.
What's especially interesting is that, when you read on, you see that Abram messed up and wasn't able to get where he was going until he set it right. God said to leave his family behind, but Abram brought along his nephew, Lot. Abram and Lot camped out in Canaan and Jordan for a while, but Abram's servants and Lot's servants quarreled, because there wasn't enough water and food for everyone. So they parted ways, and Abram got stuck with Canaan. At which point God said, "This is where I wanted you to be."
Sometimes we just have to go until God tells us to stop. When we start to feel lost or confused, we should review what God told us to do. Have we followed His whole instruction, or only part of it? Is there something else we could be doing? Make sure we're doing what we're supposed to be doing, and then keep doing it until God tells us to stop.
Genesis 18:16-33
This is the passage where God decides to destroy Sodom and Abraham intercedes for them. Every time someone says something like, "We shouldn't question God; his ways are higher than ours," I want to beat them over the head with a baseball bat and scream these verses into their faces. God proclaimed His intentions, and Abraham argued with Him and got Him to change His mind. God wants us to engage with Him, to talk to Him, to press for what we think is right. Is there a time and a place for us to shut up and accept what God gives us? Absolutely. In fact, if you read the passage, Abraham is bargaining with God for righteous people in the city. He starts out with fifty: "Suppose there were fifty righteous within the city; would You also destroy the place and not spare it for the fifty righteous that were in it?" He gets God to agree that it is worth saving the city, if fifty righteous people can be found within it. And then Abraham keeps bargaining, and talks God down to ten. If they can find ten righteous people in the city, it will be spared.
But that's how messed up this city is: there are not even ten righteous people in it. God generally has really good reasons for what He's doing. Yet He still allows us to ask questions, to doubt and argue, to engage Him in debate. He's awesome that way.
Friday, November 30, 2012
1 Thessalonians, 2 Thessalonians, 1 Timothy
1 Thessalonians 5:21
Test all things; hold fast what is good.
I think life verses are dumb. People pick one verse that's supposed to support them forever, no matter what, but life changes all the time, and we change with it. The things that encourage me today may be powerless to move me tomorrow. You can pick a verse for a particular year or season or event in your life, but a whole life verse is a little naive.
But if i had to pick a life verse, it would be this one. Because this is me. This is what i do.
I test everything.
You can ask my boyfriend. I am incapable of leaving well enough alone. I always ask more questions, always want more information, always want explanations and progress reports and references. I want to see the annotated bibliography. I want to hear the director's commentary. I want to read all of the footnotes. I explore hypothetical situations. I answer rhetorical questions. I over-think everything. I don't like to take anything for granted. My default mode is cynical mistrust.
And none of that is necessarily bad. Some of it could maybe stand to be reined in a little (again, you can ask my boyfriend for confirmation of that; i'm sure he'd be happy to provide a whole list of ways i can rein myself in), but it's not inherently bad to be cautious.
Even (or maybe especially) when it comes to faith and religion, it's good to test things. The fact that your pastor said it does not make it true. The fact that your particular translation of the Bible (viewed through your own cultural, historical, personal, gender, etc. lenses) says it does not make it fact. It's okay to ask questions. It's okay to doubt. It's okay to try things out and put them to the test before making a commitment.
The key, however, is that you do commit. Test everything, and when you've found something good, attach yourself to that. Test the doctrines of your church. Test the teachings of your pastor. Test the different translations and commentaries carried by your local book store. Test your own experiences and feelings. Test the leading of the Holy Spirit. Never assume that you know everything. In fact, never assume that you know anything. Keep asking, seeking, knocking. Someone has defined fundamentalism as holding on to your beliefs so tightly that you leave fingernail marks on the palms of your hands. Don't injure yourself in your desperation to be right, to hold onto something right. Let yourself be wrong. Let yourself be uncertain. Let yourself test all things.
Test all things; hold fast what is good.
I think life verses are dumb. People pick one verse that's supposed to support them forever, no matter what, but life changes all the time, and we change with it. The things that encourage me today may be powerless to move me tomorrow. You can pick a verse for a particular year or season or event in your life, but a whole life verse is a little naive.
But if i had to pick a life verse, it would be this one. Because this is me. This is what i do.
I test everything.
You can ask my boyfriend. I am incapable of leaving well enough alone. I always ask more questions, always want more information, always want explanations and progress reports and references. I want to see the annotated bibliography. I want to hear the director's commentary. I want to read all of the footnotes. I explore hypothetical situations. I answer rhetorical questions. I over-think everything. I don't like to take anything for granted. My default mode is cynical mistrust.
And none of that is necessarily bad. Some of it could maybe stand to be reined in a little (again, you can ask my boyfriend for confirmation of that; i'm sure he'd be happy to provide a whole list of ways i can rein myself in), but it's not inherently bad to be cautious.
Even (or maybe especially) when it comes to faith and religion, it's good to test things. The fact that your pastor said it does not make it true. The fact that your particular translation of the Bible (viewed through your own cultural, historical, personal, gender, etc. lenses) says it does not make it fact. It's okay to ask questions. It's okay to doubt. It's okay to try things out and put them to the test before making a commitment.
The key, however, is that you do commit. Test everything, and when you've found something good, attach yourself to that. Test the doctrines of your church. Test the teachings of your pastor. Test the different translations and commentaries carried by your local book store. Test your own experiences and feelings. Test the leading of the Holy Spirit. Never assume that you know everything. In fact, never assume that you know anything. Keep asking, seeking, knocking. Someone has defined fundamentalism as holding on to your beliefs so tightly that you leave fingernail marks on the palms of your hands. Don't injure yourself in your desperation to be right, to hold onto something right. Let yourself be wrong. Let yourself be uncertain. Let yourself test all things.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
YOU ARE THE ONE WHO IS CONFUSED.
Sometimes, my daily interactions with human beings leave me soul-crushingly annoyed and exasperated. My favorites are the ones who have clearly never been to the campus before, and come to me expecting me to be the Ultimate Authority on All Things Campus Related (which i basically am). They ask me where a particular office is, where they can find a particular person in that office, who they can talk to about a particular issue, and they expect me to be able to provide an immediate, correct, helpful response. And 999 times out of a thousand, they are justified in this expectation. After all, i was a student here for 4 years, i spent two years as a student worker in the Admissions office, and i have been working here full-time for just over a year, while simultaneously taking graduate courses here. I know this place pretty well, and i am a receptionist/administrative assistant. By definition, people with that job title know very nearly everything worth knowing about their workplace.
So i am not annoyed by the confused people who come to me, seeking wisdom and guidance. That's what i'm here for. What i am annoyed by, what makes my blood boil, what makes me want to slap the mustache off of the face of the gentleman who was just in here, are the people who come in confused, and try to somehow transfer their confusion to me, as if they know everything about what they are doing and i am trying to distract them from their ultimate goal by giving them campus maps, direct extensions, and a guided tour of the building.
The gentleman who was just in here asked for a particular person (we'll call her Susie). Susie works in the Facilities department, the offices of which are located in the student center. He had come to the main administrative building, which most people do, since it is the first building you see when you enter the front of the campus. It also has big white pillars and huge front steps, and looks all official and important, like a capitol building or a library.
I told him that Susie worked in Facilities, and that her office was in the student center. I was about to offer him a map or directions, when he mentioned Human Resources, and said that Susie had asked him to meet her in the HR office.
"Oh! Okay. Well, she doesn't work in HR, but that office is in this building. Susie works in Facilities, like I said--"
"She directed me to meet her in HR," he snapped.
Let's review what happened here: he came into my office, gave me no information about who he was or what he was doing here, and asked for Susie in HR. When i (gently and enthusiastically and immediately) explained that Susie worked for Facilities, he became irritated and insisted that Susie had directed him to HR. Which she may well have done; maybe he's a new hire and needs to meet with HR for paperwork. However, he asked to meet with Susie in HR, which is highly unusual (Susie rarely takes meetings, and doesn't work in HR), so i tried to clear up his confusion. But he continued to insist on his own rightness, as if certain that if he said enough times that he was meeting with Susie in HR, i would remember that that was the secret code and would give him Oreos and take him to the meeting. When i began directing him to the various offices and people he was looking for (all two of them), he continued to insist on meeting Susie in HR. When i began (again) directing him to HR, he started interrupting irritably, asking questions that i hadn't yet had the chance to answer. "It's on the second floor. You take the elevator--"
"Where is it?"
"If you take the elevator, it's on your left--"
"Where?"
"As soon as you exit the elevator, turn left and you'll be there."
He left irritated, and probably still confused. I stayed behind, secure in the knowledge that Susie works for Facilities, that the HR office is on the second floor to the left of the elevator, and that his mustache looked stupid.
So i am not annoyed by the confused people who come to me, seeking wisdom and guidance. That's what i'm here for. What i am annoyed by, what makes my blood boil, what makes me want to slap the mustache off of the face of the gentleman who was just in here, are the people who come in confused, and try to somehow transfer their confusion to me, as if they know everything about what they are doing and i am trying to distract them from their ultimate goal by giving them campus maps, direct extensions, and a guided tour of the building.
The gentleman who was just in here asked for a particular person (we'll call her Susie). Susie works in the Facilities department, the offices of which are located in the student center. He had come to the main administrative building, which most people do, since it is the first building you see when you enter the front of the campus. It also has big white pillars and huge front steps, and looks all official and important, like a capitol building or a library.
I told him that Susie worked in Facilities, and that her office was in the student center. I was about to offer him a map or directions, when he mentioned Human Resources, and said that Susie had asked him to meet her in the HR office.
"Oh! Okay. Well, she doesn't work in HR, but that office is in this building. Susie works in Facilities, like I said--"
"She directed me to meet her in HR," he snapped.
Let's review what happened here: he came into my office, gave me no information about who he was or what he was doing here, and asked for Susie in HR. When i (gently and enthusiastically and immediately) explained that Susie worked for Facilities, he became irritated and insisted that Susie had directed him to HR. Which she may well have done; maybe he's a new hire and needs to meet with HR for paperwork. However, he asked to meet with Susie in HR, which is highly unusual (Susie rarely takes meetings, and doesn't work in HR), so i tried to clear up his confusion. But he continued to insist on his own rightness, as if certain that if he said enough times that he was meeting with Susie in HR, i would remember that that was the secret code and would give him Oreos and take him to the meeting. When i began directing him to the various offices and people he was looking for (all two of them), he continued to insist on meeting Susie in HR. When i began (again) directing him to HR, he started interrupting irritably, asking questions that i hadn't yet had the chance to answer. "It's on the second floor. You take the elevator--"
"Where is it?"
"If you take the elevator, it's on your left--"
"Where?"
"As soon as you exit the elevator, turn left and you'll be there."
He left irritated, and probably still confused. I stayed behind, secure in the knowledge that Susie works for Facilities, that the HR office is on the second floor to the left of the elevator, and that his mustache looked stupid.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
prologue
Remember on Monday, when i posted a long ramble about how everything i do sucks and i don't know how to do it better so i'm just going to keep doing it? Here's a draft of the prologue to the book i was whining about, written sometime in my freshman or sophomore year of college. If this is ever published, you can consider this a teaser. If, as is far more likely, it stays on my flash drive until i die, it may be less of a teaser and more of an incomprehensible ramble about fictional fairy racial conflicts. So without further ado, i present to you: AVIS.
It
|
all started with Nareena. Or rather, with
Rhynesh. Or perhaps it would be most accurate to say that it started with Fox.
Actually, let me start over.
It
all started with racial prejudice, which started the same way that it always
does: from nothing. In this case, the two races in question were fairy races:
the Kevarths and the Spencers. Like most humans, both races were an even mix of
good and bad qualities and attributes, and they were totally indistinguishable
from one another in every way that mattered. In fact, both races were the
descendents of the same family. Yet each race seemed to feel that there were
huge and irreconcilable differences between them.
The
one really empirical difference is that the Kevarths had a slightly reddish
tint to their skin, and the Spencers had a slightly bluish tint. But even this
difference was pretty meaningless; being fairies, they were able to alter their
appearances with a glamour whenever they desired.
Eventually, there was a war.
The Kevarths won, though it was a very close thing, and the Spencers were
enslaved.
Reality has a way of being
shaped by perception. Over the centuries, differences between the races began
to develop. The Kevarths, as the ruling class, developed a taste for power and
cruelty. Eventually, every instinct for good disappeared, and the Kevarths were
only able to find pleasure in the suffering of others.
But Nature always finds a
balance, and if there is no balance to be found, she creates one. As the Kevarths
lost their goodness, the Spencers lost their evil. They became the first, and
possibly only, purely good creatures in recorded history.
Once in a very great while, a Kevarth
would take a fancy to one of the Spencer slaves. Of course, no lasting
relationship could ensue, but sometimes there were children, children who
inherited an equal mix of good and bad qualities. The children would also have
a purple tint to their skin, but most would adopt a permanent glamour of red or
blue, depending on which race they identified with. If there had been a middle
class in Masroe, it would have been composed of the mixed races; instead, most
mixed fairies chose to display blue skin and ended up as slaves, albeit high
class and expensive ones.
One day, something very unusual
happened. King Fox married a Spencer. The Queen, Rihana, bore him a son, and
they named him Rhynesh. However, the outcry from the Kevarth population was so
great that King Fox feared for his throne – and his life. Being a Kevarth and
therefore devoid of any capacity for selflessness or true affection had his
wife executed. Shortly after, he married again. His second wife, Addison, was
pure Kevarth, and notorious for her hatred of Spencers. The king wanted to make
sure that this marriage was above
reproach. She, in turn, bore a child to Fox, a daughter named Nareena.
And
that is where it all started.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
responsible citizens
Every Monday morning, the admissions team meets in the green conference room for a brief Bible study and prayer, followed by updates and assignments for the week. It's a nice way to start the week, although we have (unfortunately) been stuck in 1 Samuel for months now. Don't get me wrong; it's a great book, but it's long and dense and a little slow, and when you're only reading one chapter a week it feels endless.
But this week, we read the story of David sparing Saul's life (1 Sam. 24). As we talked about it afterwards, i began to think about modern American politics.
For those unfamiliar with the story, Saul (King of Israel), was suffering what some scholars/psychologists believe to be a manic episode. He knew that David would succeed him as King, instead of his son Jonathan, and he was worried about his legacy being forgotten and his name wiped out. So he went a little crazy and began trying to kill David, who had been like a second son to him for many years (in fact, David was his son-in-law). Saul and his army were chasing David all over the country, and David was building his own little army of supporters that he met along the way.
One day, David and his men were hiding in some caves, when Saul and his troops came upon them. Not knowing that they were in the caves, Saul's men camped outside, and Saul went in to relieve himself. David's men all began urging David to kill Saul then and there, and some even offered to do it themselves. In those days, that was a perfectly legitimate way to gain a throne, and since God had already chosen David to be King, and since Saul had all but lost his mind, there would have been few objections to this course of action. But David refused to kill him. Instead, he crawled forward and cut off a corner of Saul's robe. Later, he walked out of the cave and presented himself to Saul and the army, holding up the corner of the robe. He pleads with Saul for peace, showing how easy it would have been to kill him, and reminding Saul that he had extended mercy.
David is praised for his actions (or inactions) by God, by his men, by Saul, and by the author of the book.
Imagine a similar situation with today's leaders.
Think back to 9/11, how the whole country was calling out for retribution. Think of election years (like this one). Think of one Twitter response to the Colorado shooting: calling the candidates (Romney and Obama) to stop offering mere words of encouragement and support and give us a firm plan of action for how to prevent future tragedies.
We do not allow our candidates or our leaders any breathing space before we demand a response, an action. We do not allow them to pause in respect for lives lost, to weigh options, to talk to experts and look at statistics and think. We demand a knee-jerk answer to our pain.
David lived in a theocratic monarchy. The King had to do whatever God wanted, but the people had no say in the matter, and a corrupt King could ignore God and do whatever he wanted to the people (as we'll see later in the OT).
We live in a democratic republic. Our leaders are required to listen to us, to respond to us, to give us what we ask for. They are not empowered to do otherwise: if they don't make us happy, they won't be asked to serve again and may even be asked to leave early.
Perhaps we need to be more careful about what we ask of our leaders. Perhaps we need to consider more deliberately what we want.
When we demand immediate action, we may commit ourselves to a ten-year war where thousands of lives are lost, thousands of minds and bodies damaged. Is it not good to consider carefully before declaring war? Is a delayed, deliberate, lasting action sometimes better than immediate satisfaction? When we demand immediate response, we may provoke an emotional statement that will be revised under calmer circumstances, at which point we fling accusations of flip-flopping and unreliability. Are people not allowed to change their minds? Are our leaders not allowed to grow their ideas?
In this country, citizens have power over their leaders. They work for us. I know the system is flawed, i know some politicians are corrupt, i know that things could be infinitely better. But that's the whole point of our country: things could be better. If we want better things from our leaders, we need to ask them for better things.
But this week, we read the story of David sparing Saul's life (1 Sam. 24). As we talked about it afterwards, i began to think about modern American politics.
For those unfamiliar with the story, Saul (King of Israel), was suffering what some scholars/psychologists believe to be a manic episode. He knew that David would succeed him as King, instead of his son Jonathan, and he was worried about his legacy being forgotten and his name wiped out. So he went a little crazy and began trying to kill David, who had been like a second son to him for many years (in fact, David was his son-in-law). Saul and his army were chasing David all over the country, and David was building his own little army of supporters that he met along the way.
One day, David and his men were hiding in some caves, when Saul and his troops came upon them. Not knowing that they were in the caves, Saul's men camped outside, and Saul went in to relieve himself. David's men all began urging David to kill Saul then and there, and some even offered to do it themselves. In those days, that was a perfectly legitimate way to gain a throne, and since God had already chosen David to be King, and since Saul had all but lost his mind, there would have been few objections to this course of action. But David refused to kill him. Instead, he crawled forward and cut off a corner of Saul's robe. Later, he walked out of the cave and presented himself to Saul and the army, holding up the corner of the robe. He pleads with Saul for peace, showing how easy it would have been to kill him, and reminding Saul that he had extended mercy.
David is praised for his actions (or inactions) by God, by his men, by Saul, and by the author of the book.
Imagine a similar situation with today's leaders.
Think back to 9/11, how the whole country was calling out for retribution. Think of election years (like this one). Think of one Twitter response to the Colorado shooting: calling the candidates (Romney and Obama) to stop offering mere words of encouragement and support and give us a firm plan of action for how to prevent future tragedies.
We do not allow our candidates or our leaders any breathing space before we demand a response, an action. We do not allow them to pause in respect for lives lost, to weigh options, to talk to experts and look at statistics and think. We demand a knee-jerk answer to our pain.
David lived in a theocratic monarchy. The King had to do whatever God wanted, but the people had no say in the matter, and a corrupt King could ignore God and do whatever he wanted to the people (as we'll see later in the OT).
We live in a democratic republic. Our leaders are required to listen to us, to respond to us, to give us what we ask for. They are not empowered to do otherwise: if they don't make us happy, they won't be asked to serve again and may even be asked to leave early.
Perhaps we need to be more careful about what we ask of our leaders. Perhaps we need to consider more deliberately what we want.
When we demand immediate action, we may commit ourselves to a ten-year war where thousands of lives are lost, thousands of minds and bodies damaged. Is it not good to consider carefully before declaring war? Is a delayed, deliberate, lasting action sometimes better than immediate satisfaction? When we demand immediate response, we may provoke an emotional statement that will be revised under calmer circumstances, at which point we fling accusations of flip-flopping and unreliability. Are people not allowed to change their minds? Are our leaders not allowed to grow their ideas?
In this country, citizens have power over their leaders. They work for us. I know the system is flawed, i know some politicians are corrupt, i know that things could be infinitely better. But that's the whole point of our country: things could be better. If we want better things from our leaders, we need to ask them for better things.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Matthew 14-21
I don't have anything big to say this week. I guess all of my inspiration was crowded into last week's passages. Still, there is a lot of good in Matthew, just nothing that is particularly touching me right now.
I will say this: Jesus spoke in parables. Even His own disciples didn't know what He was talking about most of the time. So how can we read translations of memories of his words many years later and assume that we know anything? Parables are stories, and as someone who holds an English degree, i can tell you that stories are meant to live inside of you, to be explored and discovered and shared, to be discussed and analyzed and argued and loved, to be whispered at bedtime and shouted from the rooftops. They are not meant to be concrete. They are not supposed to be the same thing to every person, or even the same thing to the same person every time. I've read the Harry Potter books at least a dozen times through, and i still find new things to wonder at each time. Do we think that Jesus is less complex than J. K. Rowling? Do we think that His teachings are easier to understand and pin down?
Instead of trying to find The Answer to all of Jesus' teachings, The Lesson that He wanted to give us, why not accept that the Bible is a living text and that the Holy Spirit still speaks to us today? Why not read the Bible the same way that we read other literature, and understand that its shifting, multifaceted meanings are what make it beautiful and valuable?
Matthew 16:1-4
Then the Pharisees and Sadducees came, and testing Him asked that He would show them a sign from heaven. He answered and said to them, "When it is evening you say, 'it will be fair weather, for the sky is red'; and in the morning, 'it will be foul weather, for the sky is red and threatening.' Hypocrites! You know how to discern the face of the sky, but you cannot discern the signs of the times. A wicked and adulterous generation seeks after a sign, and none will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah." And He left them and departed.
I will say this: Jesus spoke in parables. Even His own disciples didn't know what He was talking about most of the time. So how can we read translations of memories of his words many years later and assume that we know anything? Parables are stories, and as someone who holds an English degree, i can tell you that stories are meant to live inside of you, to be explored and discovered and shared, to be discussed and analyzed and argued and loved, to be whispered at bedtime and shouted from the rooftops. They are not meant to be concrete. They are not supposed to be the same thing to every person, or even the same thing to the same person every time. I've read the Harry Potter books at least a dozen times through, and i still find new things to wonder at each time. Do we think that Jesus is less complex than J. K. Rowling? Do we think that His teachings are easier to understand and pin down?
Instead of trying to find The Answer to all of Jesus' teachings, The Lesson that He wanted to give us, why not accept that the Bible is a living text and that the Holy Spirit still speaks to us today? Why not read the Bible the same way that we read other literature, and understand that its shifting, multifaceted meanings are what make it beautiful and valuable?
Matthew 16:1-4
Then the Pharisees and Sadducees came, and testing Him asked that He would show them a sign from heaven. He answered and said to them, "When it is evening you say, 'it will be fair weather, for the sky is red'; and in the morning, 'it will be foul weather, for the sky is red and threatening.' Hypocrites! You know how to discern the face of the sky, but you cannot discern the signs of the times. A wicked and adulterous generation seeks after a sign, and none will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah." And He left them and departed.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
snails
I usually see two or three. Sometimes, a careless person will step on one, and i'll see the shell fragments and slime squished on the edge of a stair.
 |
| Fifty snails. Or seven. Math is not my strong suit. |
I only see this kind: the little mustard-y yellow-brown with the black racing stripe. I've never seen any other ones. They never stay for more than a few hours. I go home for lunch somewhere around 1 or 2 pm, and i leave work for the day at 5. When i'm there for lunch, there are snails. When i'm home from work, there are none.
Snails are cute, sure. And they're slow-moving, and their shells are pretty and fun to decorate with, and they are delicious. Yes, i've eaten snails. Twice. Once in France, and once in Spain. In Spain, they prepare them very simply, steamed or boiled with seasonings, and you just suck them out of the shell. They are very tiny, and the method of cooking usually leaves their heads poking out of the shells, their tiny faces frozen in a series of silent screams. Spanish snails are pretty upsetting to eat. French snails, on the other hand, are baked or roasted in a thing like a muffin tin, each snail in its own little compartment, and they are neatly tucked into their shells and covered in butter and herbs. You eat them with a fork, and you never have to see their faces. This way is much better.
I have to confess, however, that i fibbed a little when i said that snails are delicious. The truth is that, much like octopus, snails don't have much flavor beyond what they're cooked with. This is another reason to prefer the French method: they mostly taste like melted butter and herbs.
But these little guys are not for eating. I just like to watch them enjoy the sunshine.
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