08 December 2011

Today I visited Owen’s first grade class. As I mentioned earlier, I gave his teacher a brochure about having chemistry students from the U of M come to elementary school classes to give a demonstration and, well, today was the presentation.

I arrived at 1:00 and sat in the back in between Owen and a classmate. The presentation lasted exactly an hour, with the grad student spending most of her time demonstrating melting, boiling, and sublimation. She quick-froze flowers using liquid nitrogen, and walked around with a sample of dry ice. Before explaining the reasons and properties for the things she was demonstrating, she asked the students what their ideas were, and it was very interesting to hear the way off base and the spot-on explanations the various six and seven year-olds offered.

The coolest (pun intended) demonstration was when the grad student heated up some pop cans, and then quickly flipped them over into an ice bath. The cans crushed under the rapid pressure change. The kids were amazed and asked to see it again. Fortunately, she had the wherewithal to bring spare cans.

09 December 2011

I have now finished reading Richard Dawkins’ The Magic of Reality. I gotta say, it’s my favorite Dawkins book (though I’ve only read three or four of his books total).

His decision to call the bible stories ‘myths’ certainly did not bother me. He refers to other contemporary beliefs as myths as well, so it’s not as if he’s singling out Christian or Jewish myths for special ridicule. Dawkins begins most chapters with the retelling of myths from around the world. Some are funny, most are bizarre. In some cases, Dawkins actively wonders why specific details were included in a myth (e.g., “Why did the goddess cry for 22 years?”). I wish Dawkins would have stressed more that, at the time they originated, these myths were sincere attempts to explain the world. The book obliquely states this, I guess, but I would’ve preferred a more explicit explanation.

Nearly every page has illustrations by Dave McKean. I’d never heard of him before, but his work in the book is phenomenal; Owen sure liked looking at the pictures. I was a little disappointed to see the same old boring periodic table and the map of the world with Britain at the center…but other than those two lame cliches, McKean’s drawings were a lot of fun to gaze upon.

Speaking of Britain, Dawkins’ English might confuse some American kids. For one thing, he talks about treacle – a word I don’t believe I have ever heard said aloud. In fact, I’m not even sure how to pronounce it; I assume it rhymes with ‘fecal’…? Regardless, I doubt any American kids under 10 years old will have any idea what treacle is. I wish Dawkins would have used honey or syrup or some other viscous liquid to convey his point instead.

Worse, he twice talks about a football. The first time he talked about a football, I pictured this:

…and that was just fine, since Dawkins was simply trying to convey the difference in size between an atom’s nucleus and its electrons’ orbit (he compares it to a football and a stadium).

But later, he discusses how gravity pulls everything into the shape of a football. And that’s when I realized I had been picturing the ‘wrong’ football. Dawkins, of course, meant this:

…which is quite a different shape than the kind of football that the Minnesota Vikings catch one or twice a season. Again, too bad. I wish he would have chosen to use a baseball, basketball, volleyball, or something more universal for young English-speakers.

All in all, though, a tremendous book. I want to discuss it in an upcoming episode of Atheists Talk. So, if you’ve read it, and you got kids, let me know. We can critique it on stage together.

Saturday, 10 December 2011

Today, while at the gift-wrapping event, someone mentioned a fascinating gripe they have with the classic film Raiders of the Lost Ark. He said an aspect of this film that always bothered him was that even if Indiana Jones did nothing at all…the outcome would have been the same.

SPOILER ALERT!

In a way, this is true. Despite Indy’s efforts, the Nazis still capture the Ark. The still ferry it to a secret locale. The power of the Ark is what ultimately kills them. Indy, meanwhile, is cowering in the background with his hands tied and his eyes closed. If the movie was edited so as to remove all indications of the character Indiana Jones, how would the outcome have been different? I suppose the Ark would have languished there on the island instead of being boxed up by Dr. Jones and taken to Warehouse Gargantua, but that hardly is critical.

Another attendee at the gift opening noted that Indy killed several Nazis, and surely that counts for something.

I, meanwhile, was merely listening in on the conversation from across the table. Had I been an active participant in the discussion, I would have noted that it was Indy who correctly used the medallion, thereby revealing the location of the Ark.

I don’t know. I think that counts for something. Either way, awesome flick.

Tuesday, 06 December 2011

This evening, we removed four sets of mini-blinds from their respective windows and washed them in the tub. I did most of the blind washing, actually, while Jennifer dusted, washed, and oiled the window sills. We washed all three windows in the kitchen and the dirtiest (according to Owen) one in the living room.

It’s amazing how dirty they were. Owen held the shower nozzle while I held up the blinds, and the water shooting out the other side was positively gray. The bathroom smelled like dust. We then laid the blinds down on a towel and the rags we used to wipe them off also turned gray. When I brought the blinds back downstairs, Jennifer’s work on the windows yielded immediate significant improvements.

Coupled with the three windows in the office, and the two windows in Owen’s room, we have now finished washing nine windows + their treatments. This leaves eleven more windows + blinds, not counting the small windows in the doors, dining room, and basement.

In other news: Here’s my review of John Rawles’ opus The Matter With Us.

Wednesday, 07 December 2011

Today, the cafeteria staff at my place of employment treated all the employees to their yearly free holiday meal. About an hour before the luncheon began, they sent out a site-wide email to everyone reminding them about the complimentary lunch and providing a menu. The menu listed chicken as the main entree, but noted there was a vegetarian option. Other items listed included mashed potatoes, vegetables, desserts, and a beverage.

So, at lunchtime, there I was waiting in line. The line moved pretty fast so, when I got to the front of the line, I requested the vegetarian option. The server placed some sort of tortilla-wrapped cheese on the plate, then filled over 50% of the plate with veggies. As she handed me the plate, I asked, “Can I have the mashed potatoes, too?”

She answered, “No, sorry.”

What the heck is with that? Did they think vegetarian = only eats piles of corn and peas? Why couldn’t I have veggies and potatoes, just as the chicken consumers were also having veggies and potatoes? And even if that’s not their standard practice, why not just do it for me? After all, my vegetarian option was undoubtedly cheaper than the cost of a chicken meal, so it’s not like I would have been costing them extra money. What I should have done was just taken the chicken meal, then taken the chicken off my plate and just set it on the counter. But hindsight is … (oops, almost delivered a stupid cliche’ there). Anyway, the meal was free, so it’s not like I could piss and moan that much.

But I notice this at other restaurants, too. I say, “I don’t want chicken or steak on my salad, but can you add extra guacamole?” And they say, “Sure, for $200 more.” I think, the next time some restaurant pulls that cockamamie reasoning, I’ll respond by asking if the salad (or whatever) will be cheaper since I don’t want the steak or chicken.

In other news: If you look to the right, you will see I’ve added a new link category titled “People I Know in Real Life.” These are links to the blogs or websites of friends that I actually know in real life (and I don’t mean the Reallife Church). If your site isn’t listed here, let me know and, if you’d like, I’ll add it – as long as I know you in real life. The links are listed alphabetically, so no whining about where your site is positioned in the list. If you don’t like it, change the name of your website to AAAAA.com. Conversely, if your site is listed to the right, and you’d rather it not be, just let me know. I’ll remove it; no problem (though I will laugh at you when you’re not around).

Saturday, 03 December 2011
A week from today, the family and I will be attending a gift wrapping for children who have to spend the holidays at Children’s Hospital. Every December, there’s this big push to be magnanimous, which I definitely feel is superior to the push to be consumerist…so I’m all for looking for ways to donate and volunteer.
Problem is, many such opportunities are religiously based. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great that religions use their unique power to organize and collect money and put it towards doing good, but I’m not crazy about the fact that they shave some money off the top for their church. Also, I never know if the dollar I donate will be used 90% to care for children with spina bifida and 10% to tell teenagers that condoms are evil.
So, this seems like a good cause. Isla has spent some time at Children’s, so I feel a certain kinship with them. Also, the event will be taking place approximately 1.8 miles from our front door and is hosted by Minnesota Atheists and Green Mill.
Here are the details. Join us if you’d like – it would be fun to have more friends there.
Anyway, I bring this up today because today we went shopping for the kids. It was fun to pick out toys with Owen. The rules were basically, “let’s look for inexpensive toys that kids can play with in the hospital.” And he did a good job picking out a few things. Jennifer also grabbed some socks and underwear for kids.
Later, we went to the local Goodwill, where I hung out in the book section:


Sunday, December 04, 2011
Today we walked over to our local Subway Sandwiches.
They’re having an event today where, if you bring in a blanket, you can get a free 6-inch sub. The blankets go to a women’s shelter. So, in keeping with the “season of giving,” and our desire for free food, we lunched at the local Subway.
Here’s the crazy thing: we donated four blankets, had the Sandwich Artiste’ prepare sandwiches for us, selected our chips and cookies and drinks, then heard the price: a grand total of $6.41. I looked in my wallet, and saw I only had two dollars. No problem, I reached for my check card. But then the employee stopped me and told me the credit card swipe thingy was inoperative. Thanks for the heads up, pal.
In a fit of stupidity, I looked over at Jennifer (who was getting the kids situated at a table) and said, “I guess we’re not eating here, let’s go.” She asked what the problem was, I explained it, then she said, “Well, can’t we still take the sandwiches?” Oh, um, yeah, I guess that made sense.
So then, as I’m zipping up my coat, the guy in line behind us offers to pay. He asks if I live close, I tell him I do, so then he says, “Well I work right at the fire station right there.” He pointed across the street, then added, “So just bring me the money later.” Wow. That was nice of him.
So then, he starts ordering his food and I realize, hey, since we do live so close, I should just run home and get the cash. So that’s what I do. Then, as I run back to the restaurant, I see the fireman waiting at the corner. I say, “thanks again,” and keep right on running. Why didn’t I ask him to wait while I got change real quick? I don’t know. Sometimes I’m a complete bonehead.
Anyway, the fireman had the presence of mind (great quality for a fireman to have, by the way), to realize what I was doing, so he turns around and follows me. I reimburse him, thank him again, then sit down to dine with my family.

Monday, December 05, 2011
Have you ever received one of those end-of-the-year letters from a distant relative? I guess people send them out at Christmastime, in honor of Ra’s rebirth or something.
I was talking with a co-worker today, and she said she is tired of those letters that paint an unrealistically positive image of the family’s year. Many of them, I guess, are just boring lists of accomplishments, as if the family have leaped from one rosy event to another. I compared the letters to photo albums – no one includes the bad events, so the end result is a skewed depiction of the time frame.
If I remember right (and I usually do), Jennifer and I have only received one of those letters ever. It came in the mail about ten years ago, from her cousin and his wife. They were newly married and trying to do the polite thing by including us in the loop. Silly them, they didn’t recall that we were Witnesses and therefore didn’t celebrate Christmas letters of good news. I’m sure someone cued them in on their social faux pas, because they did not send us any in subsequent years.
But here’s the thing: even though we are now devil-worshiping, blood-drinking, goat sacrificers who throw caution to the wind by spending time with family members who have different viewpoints from us, we still haven’t received any of these letters.
My theory is that email has been the death knell for the snail mail tradition. Or maybe no one wants us to know what their family has been up to.

Wednesday, 30 December 2011

Browsing through Amazon.com today, I happened upon this power generator. I think any home owner should have one and, with free shipping, this one looks like the one to buy. The reviews are excellent – 5 out of 5 stars from three reviews – and I can’t really find anything wrong with it, especially since it can be affixed with solar panels.
The price is a bit more than I’d like to pay, so if any of you other homeowners out there would like to go halfsies with me, let me know.

And here are my kids feeding some goats:

In other news, half the German city of Kolenz will evacuate this weekend due to a bomb dropped on their city…during World War II. That’s just amazing to me. To think that the lives of thousands of people will be disrupted this weekend due to a war that ended over 65 years ago…wow. I just hope nothing goes wrong. I’d hate to see World War 2.1 start up.

Thursday, 01 December 2011
Today I once again hosted Atheists Talk.
During part one, I interviewed Scott Lohman on the secularism of Star Trek. Scott is the chair of Diversicon, a science fiction convention held in the Twin Cities each summer and is the President of Humanists of Minnesota. Scott gave a historical overview of the erstwhile science fiction show, from its origins in the mind of Gene Roddenberry, to its becoming a phenomenonal hit. Scott gave examples of how religion was treated in the series, and how the show’s writers and directors were able to circumvent the network sensors.
In part two, we talked about specific episodes that dealt with the themes of belief and nonbelief, including the original series’ “The Cage” and “Return of the Archons,” The Next Generation’s “Who Watches the Watchers?” and “Devil’s Due,” Deep Space Nine’s “In the Hands of the Prophets,” and “Death Wish,” from Star Trek: Voyager (watch that clip – it’s great). Scott also noted the treatment of omnipotence and heavenly bliss as interpreted in the Star Trek motion pictures The Final Frontier and Generations, respectively.
CLICK HERE FOR THE SHOW’S PODCASTS, although the latest episodes (including the one from tonight) are not loaded up yet.

Friday, 02 December 2011
I picked up Owen from school today. It’s kind of a tradition now; me picking him up on Fridays.
Today, his teacher told me that the class will be having a science demonstration on Thursday (the 8th) and that I am welcome to come join them.
You may recall that Owen and I, along with a classmate and his dad, attended the U of M’s “Math and Science Family Event” a couple weeks ago. Well, while there, I picked up a brochure that provided information about grad students coming out to local schools to provide science demonstrations to students. The brochure said they had programs for every grade level – from Kindergarten to 12th Grade. I gave the brochure to Owen’s teacher back on Tuesday. On Wednesday, she called the number. Yesterday, they responded to her with the names of the volunteers and a date set for next week.
I asked the teacher if this was going to take place in the cafeteria, and she said no, it’s just a special, small program for her students, so it will be right in the classroom. Which is absolutely fantastic for the kids, I think.
On the way home, I asked Owen if he’d like me to attend the program next Thursday and, in stark contrast to how I would have responded to my own parents’ similar requests, he said yes.

Oh – and here’s my wife’s photo-essay of making pie from scratch with our kids: CLICK HERE.

Sunday, 27 November 2011

Today we brought home our holiday conifer. The atmosphere certainly didn’t feel holiday-ish; there was absolutely no snow on the ground. In fact, Owen wanted to ride on the sled out to where our tree was waiting, but I told him that without a snow cover, the sled would just get ripped up on the path.

We bought our tree from Kruger Christmas Trees. The maintain a sustainable tree farm, and they donate a chunk of their money to good causes, like Amnesty International, the Heifer Foundation, the Humane Society, and Doctors without Borders. The kids sat on a Santa impersonator, too, and this caused Isla to immediately break out crying. Later, we partook of the complimentary hot cider. We then visited their resident Indian expert. This requires bending down, and entering a teepee. We’ve gone in there before, but this year Jennifer was hesitant. I don’t blame her; the man does not stop talking, so in theory we would still be there if we didn’t have the rudeness to just stand up and walk out midsentence.

Installing the tree at home is a frustrating ordeal. It’s tough to get the tree aligned correctly and securely in the stand, and it’s hard to get the lights strung up evenly. Jennifer strung up the lights the first time, then we plugged them in and realized they weren’t working. She ran out to the store and purchased a new supply. once we finally got the tree in ready-order, we were too tired to hang the ornaments. We’ll do that tomorrow.

Oh – and why would a non-Christian celebrate Christmas? Good question. HERE’S THE ANSWER.

Monday, 28 November 2011

When I was a kid, my parents drank soda. Not pop. Soda. When first they moved to the Land of 10,000 Lakes, they were unfamiliar with the word ‘pop.’ At a restaurant, when the waitress asked my dad if he wanted pop, he thought she was asking if he wanted to be punched. He could determine from the context, however, that she was actually referring to some sort of beverage, so he just said, “No, but I’ll have a soda, please.”

HERE’S A MAP THAT BREAKS DOWN THE POPULARITY OF POP vs SODA vs COKE by county. As I expected, my parents grew up in a heavily soda-leaning state (at least the eastern half of New York – from whence they beckoned – is soda-leaning). Minnesotans, meanwhile, strongly prefer pop. I think it’s funny that ‘Coke’ is used as a generic name for soft drink in some states. That seems weird to me. I know many brand names do lose their identity over time (Frisbee, Jacuzzi, Kleenex), but to me, Coke still strongly suggests one particular brand. The map also has me wondering about Virginia and North Carolina – can’t those folks make up their minds?

Me? I get tongue-tied on the spur of the moment when people ask what I want to drink (am I supposed to say pop or soda?). So I just stick with tea.

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

I’m reading Will Durant’s book The Greatest Minds and Ideas of All Time. As you may know, I love books that list things like this – and books that try to rank intangible, difficult to quantify aspects of the human condition are a particular favorite.

However, I’m gonna go ahead and say to skip this one. Though published recently (2002), the book is very dated. Durant died over two decades ago and the editor doesn’t bother to update the lists.

Worse, though, is Durant’s flowery language. He tries to make his description of everything poetic. Sorry, Willy, but if want to convince me that Walt Whitman is one of the 10 greatest poets of all time, I’m gonna need more to go on than:

Almost for the first timea poet was to find themes worthy of noble verse in the lives of common men, he would be a Declaration of Independence and the Rights of Man in poetry, he would incarnate not some dead ideal of Arthur or some forgotten myth of forgotten gods, but his own rough country, his own dubious democracy, his own turbulent and growing time.

As beautiful as that run-on sentence is, it does nothing to support the claim that Whitman is one of the ten greatest poets to ever grace the planet (or, more correctly, the Western Hemisphere, as Durant spends most of his book largely ignoring the other half – and more populous part – of the globe).

Worse than the flamboyant prose, however, is Durant’s complete misfire regarding Poe. In his soporific, protracted introduction to his chapter on the best books, he makes this claim:

We call Poe a great artist when we only mean that his biography is interesting and his sufferings attractive to us.

Wow. What’s with kicking Edgar Allan Poe? That fucked up statement pretty much nullifies the entire book. I mean, how can I trust a historian to accurately assess human achievements when he misses the mark so badly?

Call me insane, but I call Poe a great artist because he is deft at using language and spins enthralling tales. I didn’t even know what century Poe lived in when, in 8th grade, my English teacher had us read “The Pit and the Pendulum.” I loved it. Then we read “The Cask of Amontillado” and watched a short film that brought the tale to life. I had no idea who Poe – the man – was until I purchased a book of his writings when I was 16 years old and read the introduction. It was one of the first books of fiction I purchased and, 20 years later, is still on my shelf.

Poe IS a great artist. Like Hitchcock, his biography is fascinating, but irrelevant to loving the art.