22 April 2010

Happy Earth Day!

Today was a long day, but a pretty good day. In the evening, we ventured over to our friends’ (Ryan and Esther) place. We got to join them in their inaugural use of the grill and fire pit this season.

Ryan’s trying his hand at gardening. He paged through a tomato catalog with us, like a little kid show showing off his favorite comic book. I hadn’t realized there were so many types of tomatoes, but I guess it’s not too surprising.  Ryan purchased packets of different color and flavor tomatoes, and he offered us a few of his seedlings once it’s time for him to thin out the crop and transfer them from pots on a shelf out to the actual garden.

He even had a topsy-turvy upside-down tomato planter. The claim is, since the plant does not have to fight gravity, it grows better. And since it’s less likely to suffer from root rot or pests, it has a better shot of growing. I’m skeptical; getting it off the ground is certainly a good idea, but defying gravity? Maybe that’ll work…but isn’t the device forcing the plant to work against millions of years of genetic selection? I’m curious to see how that experiment plays out over the summer.

On the other hand, we may not live to see the end of the summer…

23 April 2010

So, today is an odd sort of anniversary. Three years ago today, I was embroiled in an email discussion with my Uncle Bill. He’s a life-long, loyal Jehovah’s Witness and, continuing from an exchange that had begun three days earlier, he was responding to my email in an attempt to win me back into the ‘fold.’

Here’s what he said towards the end of the email he sent me on April 23, 2007:

But know this for sure, you have all, yes ALL of your family backing you 110%.  We ALL love you and want to see you happy.  And most importantly, in the new system with us.  I can’t believe that this system will go on for more than two to three years.

This is typical Witness-speak. They just can’t possibly imagine the world – this “system” – lasting too much longer. My response, in part, said:

How do we know it’s going to be destroyed in our lifetime?  When I was a kid, people said things to me like “You’ll never graduate because the end will be here by then”.  I remember a Watchtower saying the end would come by the end of the 20th Century.  Then they changed the definition of “generation”, so that the end could basically come anytime.  Even the date of 1914 is incorrect, because it’s based on the belief that Jerusalem fell in 607bc.

I was trying to point out to him that, while I couldn’t be absolutely sure the world would last for 2-3 more years, if we look at the history of the religion, we see that they have always claimed the end is right around the corner.

One thing that was unusual, however, was his usage of an exact time frame. Usually Witnesses just say the end is coming “soon,” taking refuge in the vagueness of that word. Using my Uncle’s time frame as a springboard, I wrote this article, which has been on Minnesota Atheists’ homepage for a few weeks now. It would appear that, today, my Uncle’s words have proven false. Yet another Witness expectation dashed to pieces.

But here’s the funny thing: the most recent issue of the Watchtower, instead of fulfilling my Uncle’s hope that the end would be here by now, has instead postponed the end yet again! Check out this paragraph from page 10 of the April 15, 2010 issue:

Let me break down that rambling penultimate sentence for you: It’s basically saying that the end will come before the people whose lives overlap with people who were “on hand” in 1914 all die out. Maybe an example is in order: let’s say someone was born in 1913. They were certainly “on hand” in 1914, right? Okay, now let’s say that person lives to be 100 years old. That means they’re still alive today. My wife is slated to give birth in July…so our infant’s life will clearly overlap with the life of the person born in 1913. Now, let’s say our new child lives to be 100. That means they’ll still be around in 2109. Viola! According to the Watchtower Society, then, a “generation” can last from 1913-2109 (at least – I could have argued for longer lifespans here). So, far from my Uncle being correct that god will bring an end in April 2010, his religion has just informed him that he could have another 100 years to wait. Wow. I’m so surprised.

For the past three years, I’ve held onto this date, wondering if I should write to my Uncle. With the benefit of the elapsing of his hope, I could say something like: “See? It never comes. The Society just keeps dangling the carrot, and you keep thinking you’ve almost got it, then they pull it further away from you again. How far away do you think the end is now? Two years? Or three? I’ll write to you again in 2013.”

But, I probably won’t write. At any rate, his very next line in his email said:

I will wait for however long, but the world is going to destroy itself and man cannot stop it.

So, pretty much, though he wants the end to come really soon, he’s learned to couch his hopes in a pattern of postponement.

20 April 2010

Today was dedicated to schoolwork. I wrote up the rough draft for an essay on the Lovely Bones. Then I spent my lunch hour hunting down internships to write about (for a 2-page paper due next week). Sometime in the afternoon, I read a short story that needed to be read before class tomorrow. This evening, I attended a presentation by author Terry Tempest Williams.

I have to write a paper on this reflection – but I’m not sure how to go about it. She didn’t really have a structured speech. Her words were poetic, lyrical even, and I wasn’t sure exactly how to connect the snippets of her thought together. I think the paper will be heavy on the “reflection” portion, light on the “about the event” portion.

21 April 2010

During my commutes to and from work, I usually spend the mornings listening to the news. On the ride home, I listen to audio books. Only problem is, audio books on cassette are getting more scarce with each visit to the library (I think the libraries replace them with CDs when they wear out). For the past week…I’ve had no book to listen to. So I tried listening to music.

When doing this, I generally toggle between five radio stations: The Current, which certainly has the most eclectic selection. As a non-profit station, they also whine about donations and membership drives too often, which renders that channel un-listenable for several weeks out of the year. They also play way too much hip-hop. It’s pretty much what they play every morning. If there’s anything worse than listening to hip-hop during the day…it’s listening to hip-hop in the morning. Then there’s their sister station of Classical music, which is often very inspirational – I like to listen to the station when I’m trying to brain-storm for writing ideas.  But today, I didn’t feel like either of those channels.

Meanwhile, corporate stations KQRS and KQQL are normally decent for finding my favorite classic rock songs. But today, both stations were practically tripping over themselves in an effort to play Rolling Stones: In the car today, I heard Under My Thumb, Beast of Burden, You Can’t Always Get What You Want, and Miss You. I even heard I Love Rock and Roll which, of course, is not a Rolling Stones song, but it was inspired by one. I don’t dislike the Stones; in fact, I own several of their tunes. I’m just not sure what the constant infatuation is with them. Are they really the Greatest Band in Rock and Roll? Answer: No. I shut off the radio and drove the rest of the way home in silence.

In class today, we broke into small groups. In my small group of five, I was the only one who showed up with a draft of the essay. My uniqueness in this regard – even though it was the due assignment – rendered me as an overachiever amongst my peers. One girl in the group anointed me a “go-getter” and suggested I listen to the Young Jeezy song of the same name. A guy in our group pulled out his iPhone, called up the song, and played it for us all to hear. I assured everyone I would alter my will so that this song is played at my funeral.

Anyway, on the way home I checked out the other station I occasionally visit: Cities 97. In the evenings, they play acoustic sets, which are often just stripped down, lazy versions of songs you’re already sick of hearing. But tonight, they played Peter Himmelman’s “Dixie the Tiny Dog,” and for that, I was grateful.

17 April 2010

Once again today, I showed up early. Well, technically, I wasn’t early; but I was earlier than nearly everyone else.

I’m not sure, exactly, what happens in my mind that puts me in a different time zone than everyone else, but it goes something like this: I get an invitation to go to someone’s house at 5:00. So, thinks I, it will take me a half hour to get to their house, plus maybe another ten minutes in case I need gas or in case I make a wrong turn and have to turn around. So I plan to leave the house at 4:20. But wait! I’ve learned through the years that no one shows up at someone’s house exactly on time, so I give myself some leeway: I’ll leave at 4:40.

So all day I’m looking at the clock: It’s 2:00, do we have time to run to the grocery store first? It’s 3:00, maybe I should go inside and take a shower. At 4:00, I’m pretty much ready to go, so I sit down and read a book or check my email. Around 4:30, I stand up, put my shoes on, encourage everyone else in the house to meet me at the front door (as appropriate) and, at approximately 4:38, I am turning the key in the ignition.

It turns out, I DO need gas, so I stop and pay at the pump. Then I’m on my way. I knock on the door at 5:04 – for an event slated to begin at 5:00 – and, guess what? I’m the first person to arrive. This wouldn’t be so bad except the host wasn’t even expecting anyone yet – they’re still vacuuming, or their waiting for their spouse to get back from a last-minute errand at the corner store. So I stand in the kitchen with the host and chat, and maybe help get things ready. At about 6:15, other people finally begin arriving, and no one seems to care that all involved have been so woefully incompetent. Except me.

If you don’t want me there until 6:15, then SAY 6:15. I, apparently alone among my peers, have my life in order.

18 April 2010

Today, we attended the First Unitarian Church in Minnecrapolis. This, I think, is the fourth time we’ve attended their services (it’s also where I delivered my presentation on the Winter Solstice back in December). Jennifer arranged for us to visit a couple of closer (READ: not in Minnecrapolis) Unitarian Churches last summer but, apart from that, we pretty much only go when we’re invited.

As far as churches go, they have the smallest percentage of crap. By a wide margin, actually. There’s a hymnal book made up of Yusuf Islam tunes (as far as I can tell), many rituals that leave me privately asking WTF? every five minutes, and the occasional references to Him,  but, otherwise, it’s fine.

Today, their main discourse focused on evolution and the importance of caring for our planet. I think it was a tie-in to Earth Day. Regardless, it was interesting, inspiring, and a kick-ass substitute for the “Special Talk.”

The thing is, I don’t get it. As my friend Ryan once said, the Unitarians welcome people of all faiths and religions, but as I retorted: if you do belong to another religion, wouldn’t you attend that religion’s services instead? Also, if these people have accepted the facts about life and don’t ascribe the unknown to a whiny deity, what’s with the religion? Why not just get together and have lectures?

As always, we were love-bombed upon entrance. Even before we could check to see if our friends had arrived yet, a greeter at the door was handing us packets of information and encouraging us to enroll our son in their Sunday School Program – a program that continues into his teenage years. We took the paperwork, but I was more concerned with showing Owen the playroom than with setting up a 10-year plan for his religious education. The religious education program, incidentally, calls for a Bible literacy program from 3rd through 5th grades. I personally think my son, at that age, will still be a bit young to read a book of such wholesale violence, sexuality, and immorality. Conversely, the program “Dealing with Death” is set to begin with 6th grade, which is, evidently, eight years too late for Owen.

Anyway, I don’t mean to knock the good folks at the Unitarian Church. If you need religion, go there.

19 April 2010

Have you heard of Facebook? It’s like, all the rage. It’s kind of like MySpace, only it doesn’t take 15 minutes to load a single page, and it does not assault you with poorly encoded images and sounds.

Facebook is another thing that I don’t get.

Okay, so I get the appeal – it’s fun to check my page and see who has posted new things lately: who has a new job, who found a cool new site, who is getting married – stuff like that.

But it’s become this weird thing. When I first joined, I sought out a few of my good friends. Then “friend requests” started coming in from more peripheral people: cousins I hadn’t seen in years, ex-coworkers, and even people I’ve never actually met in person. The first time this latter request occurred, I wrote back saying, “Hey, no offense, but I have no idea who you are.” He replied with a few facts that ‘proved’ why he and I were relevant to each other, and so I figured I’d friend the guy. But when he posts things like “Cruising to Onamia to check on Kathy,” I have no clue what sort of benefit that’s conveying to me.

Then there’s the idea of commenting on and “liking” someone’s post. It seems weird that our interaction with each other has become so artificial, that we don’t even have to type “That’s cool” any longer. We can now just click a button that does it for us – as if we are just THAT busy.

I also don’t get the level of interest shown to certain comments. Here’s a rough breakdown of the four types of comments, offered as archetypes, with accompanying estimates on the number of comments each will receive (and, yes, there are exceptions):

1. BIG DEAL: I will be performing on stage at the State Fair on Sunday, if anyone wants to support me. (0 comments)

2. KIND OF A BIG DEAL: I bought a new car today. (2 comments)

3. NOT A BIG DEAL AT ALL: It’s raining out and I don’t feel like cleaning today. (4-10 comments)

4. SOMETHING I DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW: I just farted. (12+ comments)

And then there’s this “defriend” option. It’s kind of a way to diss someone without offering any reason and without requiring the backbone to say “I hate you” in person. First, this one person I knew from my teenage years requested my ‘friend’ship. So I accepted. About a month later, I made a post, she commented, I responded, and then she evidently felt that was reason enough to conclude our rekindled virtual friendship. We weren’t even arguing. Then another guy asked to be my friend, I accepted, but then he defriended me, only to re-friend me some months later. We had no contact – in person or electronically – during that span of time.

Last week, another person I knew from way back asked to be my friend and, again, I accepted. A few days ago, she said she was gonna be having dinner with her Dad, so I commented “please give him my regards.” Now, her Dad is a Witness, so he probably wouldn’t want to hear from me, but I have nothing against the guy. Also, his daughter is not a Witness, so she couldn’t have been offended at my comment. Still, today, whilst checking Facebook, I see she has de-friended me. I’m not sure if it had anything to do with the “say hi to pop” comment but, if so, wow…touchy. If not…then what?

But do I really care? I mean, it’s cool to see pictures of people I knew 20 years ago, to see how they’ve grown, who they married, how many kids they have, and where they live…but do I really need them back in my life? What’s more, if they are someone who IS in my real life (such as my coworkers, my close friends, and my wife), then do I really need to ‘connect’ with them on Facebook?

I tried to check Facebook again about a half hour ago. It said I need to put in my password. I did. It said that my password was incorrect. It says this everytime. Sometimes I just have to type it in like 5 times before it accepts it. Tonight, I didn’t retry.

15 April 2010

Today, the three of us ventured to the Como Planetarium. Jennifer, having lived her childhood only about a mile from the place, had been there on field trips through school, but for Owen and me, this was a first. When I was at the science museum one day in my pre-teens, I picked up a flyer that talked about the planetarium, and I stuck it on the fridge for months, asking my parents if we could go to one of the shows. They never did.

So, now, since my son is interested in astronomy, we went. And…it was decent. The teacher heading up the program had plenty of enthusiasm, an broke concepts down so that even the youngest in the audience (Owen?) could understand. He kind of had a Bill Nye-ishness about him. Unfortunately, we we far back in the line, and so, once we gained admission, there was no place to sit but in the front row. The seats reclined, but we still had to tilt our heads back 90 degrees. I kept contorting my neck in all sorts of crazy positions to see overhead. People who came in after us had to sit on the floor, which might have actually been better, because then they could lay down or turn around as needed.The full-capacity crowd was due to the subject: planets.

It took the teacher a while to get around to the planets. He first used a TV screen up front that showed an image of the planets to scale. He detailed their names and composition, and when he asked what Pluto was made out of, Owen shouted out the answer, which boosted his self-confidence to a level that still has yet to renormalize.

After this into, the teacher turned off the lights and projected a reproduction of last winter’s night sky. He spent about a half-hour discussing various constellations. Yes, I agree, it’s good to know where the zodiac is, so as to find the planets, and, yes, all the constellations are useful, but I get tired of the whole: “See that star there? It connects to that one, and then to that one, and that one, and that forms a lion!” No, it doesn’t. Let’s just say that this particular group of stars is Leo and leave it at that. Taurus does not look like a bull; Virgo does not look like a young maiden; Cancer does not look like a crab. At least, not to someone who abstains from LSD. The big dipper looks like a dipper, the stars in Orion’s belt form a straight line, and that’s it.

Finally, about 50 minutes into the program, the teacher took us out to a planet. We checked out Mercury, Venus, zoomed into the Valles Marineris and ‘landed’ on Olympus Mons on Mars, then went out to the outer planets. We visited one Galilean satellite, flitted above and below Saturn’s rings, saw a quick shot of an artist’s conception of Pluto, then zoomed out to the Oort Cloud. No Neptune or Uranus…I was bummed. My father-in-law, who is a fan of Uranus in the most juvenile way possible, would have likewise been let down.

Lastly, we sped out to the edge of the universe, and then came back and ‘landed’ on Earth, near the Twin Cities.

I’d like to go again sometime – get some better seats, maybe, and see if he spends more time on lesser-known Solar System objects. Maybe we need to wait until Owen gets a bit older, though, he was a bit freaked out at the room’s darkness.

16 April 2010

So, I was informed yesterday that my cousin Amber when in for her scheduled c-section to have baby #2 extracted from her belly. My mom told me this coupled with a grave voice that quickly led into details of Amber’s preeclampsia. I was told my cousin was so sick that she was not allowed to be near her baby, and that only her husband could be with her. My mom left out some details that were  filled in by my sister’s call an hour later…

Turns out, my cousin’s liver had swollen and she was losing blood. Lots of it. This is bad news because…(drum roll)….Amber is a Jehovah’s Witness and therefore believes that receiving a blood transfusion is against god’s wishes. In a study last decade at St. Sinai Hospital in New York, Jehovah’s Witness women were found to die in childbirth at a rate of 512 per 100,000 live births due to obstetric hemorrhaging. This is 44 times the general population rate, which died at a rate of 12 per 100,000.

My sister called me primarily because she was mad at the religion. She had learned that a pack of elders had arrived at the hospital to “support” Amber. As my mom pointed out to my sister (via text messaging), they are just doing their job in supporting Amber’s wishes…which is true, as a Witness, Amber is committed to abstaining from whole blood – but their presence at the hospital certainly serves to ensure she complies with organizational wishes. Think of it this way: if Amber and her husband were alone at the hospital, they could discuss the risks/benefits of transfusion and make a decision in private. With 5+ elders on hand, however, it’s not likely she’d agree to a transfusion regardless of how dim her recovery prospects are.

Today, my sister called again to further vent about “our mom’s family.” In a sharp exchange of text messages, my mom said: “No matter what Amber chooses, we’ll still love her.” My sister, not always the best wordsmith, replied: “I’ll still lover her – can you say the same about your family?”

My sister is especially distraught, as Amber is her favorite cousin. And with good reason: alone of our dozen Witness cousins, Amber alone does not shun my sister. She was one of the few family members to attend my sister’s marriage to a non-Witness (back in 2002), and, when my sister was remarried in 2005, Amber was the maid of honor. Besides my immediate family, Amber was the only one of my relatives to visit us in the hospital at Owen’s birth.

I am writing this several hours after I last spoke to my sister; no word yet on Amber’s condition.

If you want to learn just how ridiculous, inconsistent, and arbitrary the Watchtower ruling on blood is, CLICK HERE.

14 April 2010

Evidently, there’s a big wide world out there in cyberspace. Today, in particular, I found – and was shown – a few amazing sites on the ol’ WWW:

First off, check this out: The Miracle of Transubstantiation. After finding this from another site I was visiting, I forwarded this on to two of my co-workers; one came over to my desk and said: “I’m not religious, but I even find that offensive.” He then shrugged and said something about it being an accurate depiction of what Catholics must believe.

Second: Does anyone want to go in on a case of Sink the Bismarck with me? As the world’s most alcoholic beer, the price tag is a little steep and, anyway, if I drank the whole case myself, I don’t think I’d ever wake up again. Or maybe we could just share a bottle of Tactical Nuclear Penguin.

Third: This was one awesome short film. At 2.5 minutes, I actually wish it was longer, which, I think, is about the highest praise a person can give to a film. Heck, I even stuck around to watch the credits.

Fourth: I had no idea Mike Huckabee was such an asshole. I mean, I knew he was super-conservative, and I knew he was a man of faith, but I didn’t know he was also stupid. What a dangerous combination. Let’s just look at a few of his points:

He says: “There are people who believe in polygamy, should we accommodate them?”

I say: Sure. Why not? All of his favorite bible characters (Abraham, Jacob, David) were polygamists, so what’s the problem? If a man wants to have two wives – or more – that’s just fine with me. I would add, however, that the arrangement must be consensual for all, so that the existing wife/wives must agree to the addition of new a new wife and, essentially, they would all be married to each other.

He says: “The burden of proving that a gay marriage can be successful rests with the activists in favor of changing the law.”

I say: Bullshit, asshole. Heterosexuals are under no compulsion to prove their marriage will be successful upon applying for a license to marry. And, in fact, half of them are not successful. Or maybe Huckabee is in favor of banning divorce?

He says: “I do not believe we should change the traditional view of marriage.”

I say: Why not? We change it all the time. Back when Huckabee’s favorite book was written, the traditional view was that polygamy was okay. So were child brides. In this country, interracial marriage was once prohibited. Does Huckabee feel we should criminalize interracial marriages and nullify such existing marriages?

Lastly, here’s a great video a co-worker sent my way this morning. Sagan never fails to inspire, and here his words are set first to thought-provoking imagery of the Earth’s place in space, and then to movie clips that demonstrate the expanse, beauty, and insignificance of the human struggle.