Musings of a Philosophical College Student

I'm moving!

2009-06-16T21:18:00.003-07:00

I'm moving to www.blahrg.com so please update your links! I will continue to post here a few more times, but then my move will be permanent! Keep up the bloggin!

Unemployment to 9.4%

2009-06-05T19:57:00.000-07:00

Hmmm..... our stimulus package was awesome. Good job Big Government.

These are a few of my favorite things ala Oprah

2009-05-02T14:59:00.001-07:00

Okay, it's been awhile. I've been... well, lazy at best. Forgive the delay my little cherubs. I have returned.

Let's talk about some positive gifts humanity has given us.

Southpark

By far one of the most intelligent and satirical shows ever created, Southpark wins the award for comedic genius. You can disagree, but when I sit down and watch an episode of Southpark I am always amazed at the incredible way it mocks every single mockable point of society. It combines the innocence and effortless dreamage of childhood with the filth and crassness of naughty boys and incredibly awkward situations our country and society gets us into. Hats off to Kyle, Stan, Kenny, and of course Cartman. Notable mention for Butters who has made the more current seasons great.

Wikipedia

As it has been stated before, information wants to be free. Shame on all of you companies that feel it necessary to profit from everything a person does. There needs to be a source for people to go where they don't have to open their wallet, and Wikipedia is the greatest source there is. Thank you wikipedia, for being a .org. On top of that, college professors have such disdain for Wikipedia. "Well, I'm sorry Ben, your source isn't the Critical First Edition published at Oxford, Yale, or Cambridge, so I'm afraid it's unacceptable." Let's be honest. Wikipedia provides useful information that isn't obscure.

Google

I don't care that they are a trillion dollar business or whatever the case may be. Google provides some of the greatest services to mankind. Dictionary? You got it. Email? Done. Blogging? Here you are. Unanswered questions? Bamboozle. There it is. Thank you Google for being everything we need, the second we need it.

Family Guy

Yes, Peter Griffin and his family have entertained me for many a year. I first came to know the Griffins when I was in New Jersey rooming with a couple buddies. We were selling security systems, or, as we liked to call them, overpriced oversized wall phones. And what consoled our weary salesman minds and salesman feet at night but the Family Guy. Thank you Family Guy, for creating a new type of unpredictable humor that is both witty and professionally random. (As a sidenote, randomness for the sake of randomness is not usually funny, unless you can really make it work i.e. Peter, Stewie, Lois, and Brian.

Drudgereport.com

Again, back to my free information soap box, when it comes to world events and politics, the best place for the most current data and news is drudgereport.com Fox news wants a 7 dollar per month subscription to listen to Bill O'reilly and Glenn Beck. 7 dollars. To listen to an overly energetic talk show host interrupt his guests and not let them speak. Great. No, I'll stick with Drudgereport.com

Idaho

You know I never wanted to live in Idaho when I was growing up. I wanted to "see the world' or some shit. Well, I have seen the world. I've been to Australia, New Zealand, New York, New Jersey, England, Spain, France, Germany, Mexico, Canada, Jamaica, etc. etc. I by no means have seen a great portion of the world, but I've seen a bit. ANd from what I've seen, I have to admit that Idaho is one of the greatest places on earth. Idaho features some of the nicest people around, and some to the most sane drivers. I can't say the same for Utah. Maybe it's because I expect so much more from Utah people, and am constantly left so disappointed. Not all by any means, but many. You can disagree in the comments section.
Another thing Idaho has going for it is the space. That's right, I can walk out of my parents driveway and see the stars. There are no buildings and hordes of people around. It's just space. I know it won't always be like that, but at least now it's one of the greatest spots on earth.

Cormac Mccarthy

I must say, one of my favorite writers. I admire him, I respect him, and I dig his work. He's won the greatest awards for litereature. His books are made into masterpiece films. He earned a Pulitzer for his critically acclaimed The Road. His writing is dark and potent, like Faulkner. Well played, Cormac. You even have a cool name.

The Wrestler

2009-03-19T00:08:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen a one trick pony in the field so happy and free?
If you've ever seen a one trick pony then you've seen me
Have you ever seen a one-legged dog making its way down the street?
If you've ever seen a one-legged dog then you've seen me

Then you've seen me, I come and stand at every door
Then you've seen me, I always leave with less than I had before
Then you've seen me, bet I can make you smile when the blood, it hits the floor
Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?
Tell me can you ask for anything more?

Have you ever seen a scarecrow filled with nothing but dust and wheat?
If you've ever seen that scarecrow then you've seen me
Have you ever seen a one-armed man punching at nothing but the breeze?
If you've ever seen a one-armed man then you've seen me

Then you've seen me, I come and stand at every door
Then you've seen me, I always leave with less than I had before
Then you've seen me, bet I can make you smile when the blood, it hits the floor
Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more?
Tell me can you ask for anything more?

These things that have comforted me, I drive away
This place that is my home I cannot stay
My only faith's in the broken bones and bruises I display

Have you ever seen a one-legged man trying to dance his way free?
If you've ever seen a one-legged man then you've seen me

Clutter

2009-03-07T13:44:00.000-08:00

I was scanning the back of a fiction novel today and noticed a critic who claimed the author whose work he was trumpeting was not like the rest of the countless works that "clutter" our lives today. I thought it was a magnificent image of what most of the work out there is: clutter. The microcosm of this argument will lie in my recent experience at Velour in Provo.

I'm glad that people are creative and want to make music, I really am. I'm glad that there are venues for people to express their talent. Nevertheless, we have to call a spade a spade. Both times I've attended Velour the music has been mundane. Our first artist had glimpses of originality, but reverted back to the timeless classic cliches of pain, love, regret, and paternal disconnect (my father left me, I wouldn't leave my son, boy becomes a man, etc. etc.). It is true that we all relate to these epic compartments of life, but for the love of God do we have to have them delivered in such bland and over-trodden ways? Artist, give us something fresh! Tell us about your pain without using the word pain! Show us ways your heart was broken, don't tell us it is so!

My next critique was made clear by the second band. Though talented, these young men tried to showcase every musical genre and give every band member solo time in each song. Jazz-like improvisation music is fine, but when you go from chill out folk music, to hard core rock out, then back to jazz quiet, then rock with a solo and dance and mosh on the stage, then back to intimate whisper, its kind of ridiculous. Pick a genre and tempo for each song, and let that be enough. Play a soft song, then a loud song, then a soft song. You can even mix up your set with fast and slow tempos, but don't put every tempo into every song. Then you are just amateur. What makes a good set is a band that can get a crowd worked up with one song, then take them down with the next, and then back up again. It all shouldn't span a single tune.

Lastly, I think it has become cliche' to define oneself as a "non-conformist". What makes one a non-conformist? Lately, I believe there is a certain way of dress that could be classified as such: black rimmed glasses, tapering pants, shaggy hair, etc. Thus, in trying to be a non-conformist one conforms. It is a paradox easily remedied by not trying to fit in by non conforming.

The historical novel: Can fiction be just as valuable as non-fiction?

2009-03-04T00:01:00.000-08:00

Mkay, here we go. The pictures are by request by family, but I must say I do look smart in those preppy clothes (smart as in both intelligent as well as well dressed:).

What does any written work try to do? It tries to communicate some point to the mind of another, correct? In doing so, a transient idea takes shape in an individual mind, reconstructed from the tools found in that individual's "garage" so to speak. With this metaphor, it makes sense then that my hammers and screwdrivers may be of a different size and shape then yours, and also the image in your mind most likely is completely different from the image in mine. This is the nature of the generality of words. Some word is really a symbol that stands for some idea, and that word then is defined by the thoughts in an individual's mind. When I write the word "television", do you think of a plasma screen? A black and white turn-knob? Do you think of a large projection screen? The word television which seems to denote a specific thought in reality communicates a separate idea to each individual's mind.

Now place that thought on the stove and let it simmer, and let us now prepare the salad of this philosophical entree.

What does a man (or woman) truly know? Honestly, what do you truly know? I would contest that we really only know what we experience first hand. What I have experienced, that I know. Yet because of the nature of memory, even what I have experienced firsthand can shift from what actually happened, to what we perceive happened. This can be due to our own creative reconstruction, anxiety, pride, guilt, or motivation. Thus, a memory becomes altered. Many studies have been done on the topic of false memories, or things we believe to be true that actually were not. I have experienced this myself, as I believe we all have to some extent, even if we don't know it.

You might say, "No, that's not true, we can know what we read about and what we see on television." Yet this is where the idea of history becomes less rigid. What we read, like we talked about earlier, creates an image in our mind. That is what we envision. It is real to us in our own mind, and that is all. Beyond this, there is no delineation between what is real and what is not. What you imagine in your mind from a non-fiction work is a reconstruction using your own tools and your own thoughts, but in all likelihood is very far removed from the actual events that took place, even if those events were documented specifically and accurately. What we see on TV may portray specific people and images to us, but we cannot say that it is not a re-enactment of the actual events, nor can we say that the context certain spliced images on the news are given to us in the correct context. We didn't experience it. In this case, a narrative is constructed by a network and given to us as fact, much like a non-fiction work. Yet because we did not experience it first hand, we cannot say it is truly accurate, and even if we did experience it, we cannot really say that our own memory of it is accurate except for the very moment we experience it.

Thus, is there a way to distinguish between a factual history of truth, and one of imagination and fabrication?

Here comes in the law of probability, as well as the notion of creativity. It would be well to argue that most good historians use primary documents to reconstruct history. This is based on the idea that a primary document purports a certain event in a correct way, and that its author is a credible witness to the events. Yes. We accept that because we have a cultural tradition of honesty, and most of the time what is written in the form of letters, documents, memos, etc. can be accepted as being factual. But can we TRULY KNOW this? No, we cannot. As well, there are a body of primary documents and witnesses that a historian takes and studies, but how does one make sense of it all? The historian in some way must construct either some type of narrative, giving an end point to a chain of events, or he (she) merely re-records the data with no type of organization. As a historian, I would say that the latter is never done, since this would basically be copying the primary documents in question. Instead, the "facts", or documents and facts they portray, are somehow organized for a purpose. As we said before, every writer has some purpose. This organization requires creativity.

Creativity, then, in many ways is labeled the antithesis of a true historian, since by being creative, one must at some point be imaginative, and if one is imaginative, then one is straying from the documented "facts" of which a true historian would stick to and allow those "facts" to speak for themselves. While many historians contend that this is what they do, they are in fact using creativity to do just that. Facts have no meaning in and of themselves. Causality cannot be found in facts. The cause of WWII is not found in facts. It is derived from a certain chronology of events, meaning is assigned, and a narrative is constructed, however elaborate, complex, and heterogenous it may be.

What difference then exists between a "factual" historian, and a historian who embellishes, even fabricates details that are plausible within the "factual" framework? If my argument is even somewhat cogent, then we can contend there is almost no difference between the traditional historian and the literary historian. Let me give some examples as well as certain persuasive reasons why they could be at least considered relevant to history, and then I will coalesce the examples with my main argument.

Thomas Fleming, a novelist as well as academic historian, wrote a book entitled Time and Tide about a fictional group of characters based on the USS Thomas Jefferson (also fictional) during World War II. He contends amid criticism of his fabrication of details that his work is highly factual, and though he does use fiction to fill in the blanks, as well as enliven the story, many important historical questions and answers are raised by his work that would have not been brought to the surface otherwise. Real topics such as religious faith in the Navy during World War II, the authoritative nature of the government and navy, as well as absence of ideology of the average seaman are addressed, which are real and important.

Howard Fast, the writer of numerous revolutionary war novels, may not be considered by historians at all as credible, yet his work reached more people than many historians combined. Again, he brings important themes, mainly the reality of injustice among citizens of America, to the forefront. His work was largely based not on factual research but on hunches and imagination. Without the context of my argument which I will argue trenchantly in a moment, this may seem a blatant example of how this fiction cannot be considered credible history. Again I ask you to postpone judgement.

Most classic historians are considered to be quite factual. This is relatively true. However, several examples can show us how even classic and traditional historians base many of their findings on creative and imaginative grounds. Heroditus for example, the "father of history", begins his history citing myth and oral tradition, which was definitely not factual. Polybius, who considered himself the opposite of Embellishers like Heroditus, still constructed his history to tell a monographic tale of how Rome became the triumphant achievement of human civilization. Eusubius did the same, retelling early christian history to reinforce the catholic dogmas agreed upon at the Council of Nicea.

Even one of the most revered historical accounts in all of humanity, the holy bible, gives way to historical and scientific scrutiny. The Hebrew scriptures, or first books of the Old Testament are "immensely heterogeneous, comprising various genres of ancient literature: creation myth, national epic, wisdom literature, genealogies, and king lists, songs and prayers, laws and detailed ritual prescriptions, prophecy, and protracted warnings of divine wrath, often clothed in symbolism, though without the oracular sites prominent in the hellenistic world." (Burrows, A History of Histories). Most may not consider the bible as fully accurate, but do we consider much of the bible as not only symbolic, but also mythical? The point is to question what we truly consider as "Fact". The point is, to question what we "know". (Though I do tend to wander religious realms with my blogs, there is no implied argument against or for religion here. The bible is just a great example of the overlying point I'm trying to communicate).

Now, lets tie all of this together. Hopefully the examples overtly demonstrate that "fact" is transient. No matter what is written or portrayed to us, it cannot be known by us. Each work, whether academic or creative, involves some form of creativity in the first place. Then, it is communicated to each individual's mind with generic symbols (words and phrases), to create a transient portrayal in each person's mind. This image that exists in the mind can in know way be relied upon as any depiction of what really happened. It may have happened that way, it may not have. Who is to say what a creative writer portrays may or may not have happened? Just because a traditional historian reconstructs history according to primary sources does not 1. give those sources credibility in and of themselves, and 2. whatever point is made by that historian involved his own creative faculties, and though the law of probability does give him (or her) credence, it does not make it reality.

Finally, even what one experiences cannot be truly "known" because of the nature of memory. Therefore, only the present thoughts and ideas are really known, since they exist in the mind currently. Thus, if something from a nonfiction work is communicated to the mind, it exists in the mind as real or "fact" for that moment. In the same way, if a fictional work creates just as vivid an image in the mind as a nonfiction work, then it can be said to be real or "fact" for that moment as well, since beyond the present moment, nothing can truly be known. Does this make sense? Or am I just off my rocker?

I am very interested to hear your takes on this idea, so please feel free to comment. Or, if you skipped to the end of this after looking at the pictures, I encourage you to read this and form your own opinion. Cheers!

Annoying things

2009-03-01T23:08:00.000-08:00

Occasionally, I will write about annoying things. The last entry on irksomeness was a year ago, so don't take this as overtly negative. Here we go!

Emo

That's right. Emo fashion is ridiculous. Let me especially say to all men that wear tapered pants: you are ridiculously gay and look silly. When you grow your hair long and let it fall in front of your face, wear belts with metal points and low ride your several sizes small pants, and then they taper down to your ankles, you just. Wow. Look wretched. Ghastly. Not only feminine, but circus show feminine.

Let me continue by saying that men's fashion in general has begun to de-evolve our masculinity. I flipped through the most recent issue of Details and all I see are hermaphrodite men who blatantly portray their immasculation through bony figures and tight, small clothing. We are beginning to look like the French, and that is just not acceptable.

Notable emo fags include: Zac Efron and Toby Maguire

Narcissism headlining as networking

Let's face it. 90% of the world has written "25 random facts" about themselves. Why do we read everyone elses' "25 random facts" in the first place? Because Facebook tricks us by saying we're "mentioned" in it somewhere. Here's a tip: You're not mentioned anywhere in the "25 random facts" about someone else. But it's okay, because you can write "25 random facts" about you and every one of your friends will somehow be tagged in it as well. In the end, everyone gets to write about themselves.

Don't get me wrong, I play fully into the trap as well. I like coming up with the most clever status headline too. I enjoy putting up the most endearing and self-aggrandizing profile photos, all to ooh and ahh my friends into paying attention to my profile. I get it, and I do it too. But I am formally recognizing here that Facebook is not about networking, but about displaying our pseudo individuality for our own narcissistic purposes. Maybe someday a study will be done that will tell us it is actually good for us to fuss an hour or three a day on our profiles.

People that play football next to me while I'm reading on a blanket at the park when I was there first and not only do they suck but they commentate on their horrible abilities as athletes

Let's face it: you're not TO. You're not Jerry Rice. You won't catch or throw very well as a mid-twenties slightly overweight dude who hasn't played football since you were on JV. I don't claim any special athletic prowess either. But when there are thirty acres of grass just waiting for you to fumble around on, why do you claim that small tract of field next to my army blanket, and then yell back and forth "my bad!" and "Oh, that was horrible!" and "Wow it's been awhile." and "Heads up!" Especially heads up. You're fing playing catch. You don't need to yell heads up to the guy you're throwing to.

University Parking

If ever I wished upon a star for a legal business entity to roast slowly in hell, it would be University Parking and every one of their owners and employees. Go to hell, bitches.

Conversion

2009-02-04T02:02:00.000-08:00

"Who is converted?" asked Josephus.

"To love?"

"To anything, Livy."

"I think it is those who believe."

"No, I think it is more than that. It is those who yearn."

"Yes, the converted are those that yearn."

-Ben

GI Jonesy Returns...

2009-01-30T14:22:00.001-08:00

If you didn't catch the Black Cat Forest, you should look it up in me index. Cheers mate.

Cold Souls

2009-01-29T15:48:00.000-08:00

Alright, I'm going a little out of order but I had to address this film from the Sundance Screening Room: Cold Souls.

Synopsis: After reading an article on Soul Storage in the New Yorker, Paul Giamatti decides to give up his soul to relieve himself of the pain and weight he feels, which has been affecting his acting. Turns out his soul is a chick pea, and he quickly places it in a chilled locker. From there, he finds his scale tipped from one extreme to another, borrowing an anonymous Russian Poet's soul and finding his own soul trafficked across the Atlantic to Moscow, where it becomes harbored by a ridiculous young soap opera diva.

What makes this film so remarkable is the black comedy as well as the intriguing dramatic depth that blends together for an entertaining and yet intimate experience. It questions the tangibility of the soul and its reverbrating dynamic on the human experience. Paul loses his depth as an actor when he loses his ability to relate to his character. He realizes his pain is what makes him an individual. This is made blatantly evident when the soap opera star enjoys his melancholic soul with a lightness he regrets he didn't appreciate.

This begs the question: Is there ever really a life experience we shouldn't be grateful for? When you take away the painful memories and the saddest moments of life, you lose a lot of the fiber that makes us who we are. And we all know what happens when you don't have fiber in the diet.

Another provoking thought of the film followed the scene when Paul finally gets his soul back, but has to reconnect with it first before it will enter him again. The Russian soap opera star hardened his soul, and it wasn't malleable as before, so he has to look within himself before he can reconnect. This is the exact thing he has avoided from the start. The trafficker who has helped him tells him that she found his soul quite beautiful. The scene is beautiful, but we must obviously draw the conclusion that it is painful to Paul to have an inner eye. Sometimes the answers we need can only be found by looking inward. Do you believe that? That's definitely a transcendental thought and it smacks of Emerson and Kant. Is it true? I've questioned this heavily this last year, and my search has been mostly external. Maybe all the real answers can only be found inside of us.

What was great was after the film, Anthony and I asked a couple questions to the hot french director, the talented Sophie Barthes. I asked where the idea for the script came from and how it evolved to the end product. She was so fun to listen to with her quaint french accent, but her answers were even more rewarding. She told us the script came from a dream she had, and that most of her inspiration comes from her dreams. The main elements of the movie, i.e. that Paul (originally she dreamt Woody Allen) stores is soul and it is stolen, souls are trafficked from America to Russia, the soul is a chick pea, etc. were all eventually incorporated into the final product.

Of all the films at Sundance, this was definitely one of the most impressive and had the most lasting impression.

Adventureland: Does true love conquer all?

2009-01-23T23:55:00.000-08:00

I guess a budding theme that I have felt through most of the Sundance movies I've seen is this: that a true and abiding love is experienced when both parties not only know but embrace the other's weaknesses. (That sentence is ironic, since I'm describing very emotional things in an emotionless way, don't you think? Irony will be a masterful blog to follow in the coming days, so just hold your horses!)

Anyway, my focus of this film will be about this idea. The story goes: smart college nerd graduates but can't afford to go to columbia, so he has to get a job at Adventureland to save money. Ends up meeting a troubled hottie who is sleeping with the washed up rock star/mechanic who happens to be hunk Ryan Reynolds. What brings them together is a medium Ziploc Bag of blunts.

Since this is my blog, I'm going to interrupt my little narrative and address why I bring up my ideas and points from different modes of pop culture entertainment. The reason is: I love stories. I love books, movies, and actual storytelling. I love a good song or short story or poem. I think I enjoy stories so much because I draw parallels to my own life. We all do this I'm sure. We all have dreams or ideals, such as making it big or falling in love with that dream girl. Or maybe we identify with the pain. We love to connect with someone, even a fictional character, that feels as we do. there is something about a television character or stanza that speaks to us and we relate. I'm inspired to think and feel by stories. I enjoy feeling emotion, any emotion. Emotion makes me human. I can't acknowledge anything about it other than that I feel it. And I like it.

Okay, so back to Adventureland. It's funny quite consistently. Kristen Stewart I really enjoy because she plays the broken wing bird so well. She glances away at the slightest eye contact. What is she so afraid to face? Is it guilt ding ding ding? Yes. Suddenly she has a great guy who really likes her and she feels the searing hot iron of guilt. She pushes him away, and then he goes after Marly P, who dances disco better than anyone I've danced with. He has an addiction for confession, and tells her that he kissed this girl and he's really sorry. She forgives easily knowing she has wronged him more than a simple kiss, and for much longer.

Yet, somehow, they forgive, and even embrace eachother for who they are. Does love conquer all? I believe true love does. I want it in my life. What would it feel like to have someone who knows everything about you and still love you? In conversations with friends and family, I can see why many people keep dark secrets in their lives, since revealing them would mean risking the loss of those relationships. Sometimes there are things in a life that on the surface are wrong, but events that brought them about are unfair and sad. Why is it acceptable to dismiss at face value a "sin" when that sin was years in the making by forces maybe partly ones own fault, but partly not? Where is a place for understanding and acceptance?

Brief Interviews with Hideous Men

2009-01-21T23:19:00.000-08:00

Hours searching for tickets didn't lead me to this film, but luckily Blake did. With an interview from Jon Krasinski himself, his directorial debut was phenomenal. Afterwards, I told Blake, "After seeing films that make me think like this one, it kind of makes me ashamed of some of my previous movie choices."

"You should feel ashamed," he said.

The film basically is as the title states, several interviews with men of different backgrounds. Jon told us after the film that he thought it started out being about women and the feminist movement, but really it ended up being about men. It wasn't just an exploitation of their hideousness, but rather a critical reading of the male narrative.

Truly, there was so much going on in this film I want to address. First, the film spliced together several powerful monologues from different actors that teased out different emotions from hearty laughter to pensive sadness. One of which focused on a black professor who contemptuously reminisced about his father that worked as a bathroom servant in a nice country club. The film merged two separate monologues together that addressed eachother indirectly, as if the two characters who actually were in the same room, were actually separated from eachother, explaining their actions and feelings. "A piece of toast for the bus...a double shift to feed the children." "He avoided their eyes to spare their dignity. He tried to be invisible, and he was invisible to them." Though the dichotomy of a black man and his father may not seem to relate to the main synopsis of the film, I felt it was a poignant tie in, since that was why the man proclaimed, "Nobody, is invisible. To me." Each interview was about the women in each man's life, and it was easy to connect this man with treating his wife respectfully. The scene was moving.

Another group of scenes broke down Julianne's own barriers. A student pesters her to review his paper, and she refuses because of her disgust for its thesis that violence, rape, and incest can be good events in a woman's life. As the student persistently approaches Julianne, he gets more and more frustrated at her sheer disgust for his ideas. He parallels his ideas to Viktor Frankl, who wrote, Man's Search for Meaning. Eventually, he reveals it is he who was raped. He forcefully explains how, when the events that are setup in the mind as the most horrific and impossible actually happen, there is a level of experience that is discovered which allows the individual to know more about himself or herself than ever before. This new clarity gives meaning to life, and provides a way to grow stronger and overcome, thus allowing a person the ability to succeed in ways that before were impossible.

Other scenes are funny, sad, and disgusting, but shed light onto why not only men, but mainly men, make decisions that they do. Not just why they cheat and want sex all the time, but also that usually at the heart of every decision or value system is a vulnerability that has been shelved away behind dusty boxes of pain and regret.

the final monologue by Jon tells why he has never loved. He tells a story of a girl that he initially picked up just for a one night stand, but then discovers a girl who was able to find love in her heart for the very man who raped her. "This is love," he says. "When you can experience the very worst of someone and still love them." Or something to that effect. Previously, Julianne questioned why. Why could you cheat on me when you loved me? The truth was that he never loved her. She was just another fling. But after that story, he did change.

Is she the one who comes out on top? Jon felt she did. I would say no. Even though she is the one conducting the interviews and revealing these secrets, its still the women who are the brunt of man's proclivities. Men are the dominant sex, and usually get what they want.

So I was truly impressed with the expressiveness of Jon krasinski as he took questions and humbly passed the praise to his cast and fellow filmmakers. Well done. I'm going to go ahead and claimed I met him, and by met him, I mean stood in the same room about 40 feet away.

Lymelife the movie, Sundance, and subtlety

2009-01-16T22:54:00.000-08:00

"It's about subtlety, Blake."

We had been batting some important ideas around for a lengthy seven minutes when I lined that little curve ball up. Blake was driving us to Sundance where we were going to stand in line for Lymelife, a coming of age film about Lyme disease. What attracted us was that somewhere in the blurb for the film online, Martin Scorsese's name was credited. So we were off. On the way, we engaged in some heavy dialogue over Macarthy's The Road and Burrow's Running with Scissors.

"I know it's about subtlety, but Burrow's is so exploitive. It's hard to believe." Blake defined what he meant by exploitive, and I agreed that eleven year old gay sex was somewhat exploitive.

"that's true, you're right. But take the man and the boy in The Road. There is so much happening within the dialogue. Macarthy doesn't need to describe every detail. With just a little conversation between the two, so much more is said implicitly."

"Yeah, he, what's the word? He illicits a response without actually verbalizing it."

We touched on other important blog topics, like the importance of irony and the real meaning behind Running with Scissors, but subtlety was in the cards for us that night.

The ten minute jaunt to the box office was chilling. I imagined being a dog sled racer without dogs in the middle of Montreal. We had to wait before getting our standby numbers, so we defrosted in the Owl Bar for awhile. There weren't too many Californi's there, save one table with three blonde's, all wearing large marshmallow fur coats and Versace hooker boots. They were drinking Appletinis. Thank Schwartzneggar there weren't any more bleeths dripping wealth on their way in. The rest were probably all at the Premiere's in Park City. I don't mind California natives by any means. But when you're on the side of a mountain in Utah and people dress up like they are attending a nightclub in a freezer, it's somewhat annoying. The other fully occupied table was surrounded by two scraggly young men who hadn't shaved for several weeks on purpose (who rode into the saloon piggy-back) and a brown-haired snow bunny. They all were wearing snow pants. The slopes closed over four hours earlier.

"Our waitress is cute," I said.

"Our waitress is Palestinian," said Blake.

After Blake had a burger and I a Coke, we retrieved our waiting list numbers five and six. Then it was off to Heber City to paint the town red for an hour before we had to be back for the film. We drove down main street a couple times and stopped at a quaint little cafe called, "Chicks Cafe." I asked what was good, and the tired waitress had to dig deep to give me an answer. "The chicken fried steak. Lotsa people order it," she said. So I did. Then Blake and I exchanged one liners from the great literature on our table. The books were called, 1001 ways to know you're having a bad day. and, 1001 funny things to say while fishing. And, 1001 comebacks to people who say insulting one-liners to you. They were all by the same author. He had about thirty more publishings, too.

"That's a lot of steak and gravy," said Blake. "I bet it goes really well with the clam chowder you just ate." My meal came with a salad which I knew was lettuce from Albertsons and bottom shelf ranch, clam chowder, a piece of fried steak the size of South Dakota and probably to scale, potatoes and gravy, and a scone. I was full after the chowder.

Then we were back in line. Blake was obviously annoyed. We had been herded to one side by an arrogant volunteer, and were about two inches from the women in front of us. "Excuse me," said a short curly-haired man as he slid in front of me and then inserted himself in the two inches between Blake and the ladies. He looked straight ahead, and we noticed he was wearing seran-wrap around the tips of his boots. He was alone.

"I don't like the standby experience," said Blake.

"Yes, but it's this or not seeing the film," I said. I knew Blake didn't see films he didn't have normal tickets for.

Then there was the film. Lymelife. An introverted little brother Scott Bartlett tries to toughen up for his high school crush Adrianna Bragg and protect himself from the school bully. "Fartlett," he's called. Then he has to toughen up to deal with his over-protective mother and adulterous father, who cheats with Adrianna's Mom who has fallen out of love with her husband who has Lyme disease from a tick bite. Then he has to toughen up when his idolized army brother Jimmy turns out to be scared and vulnerable like anyone else, and he has nobody left to rely on. Then you realize that the delicate balance found in the American Dream can tip so easily, drowning adults and children in its wake. Then it becomes clear that no matter how much your actions seem all your own, they never really are.

Rory Culkin and Emma Roberts and Alec Baldwin and Jill Hennessey were all phenomenal. After the film, Rory and Emma and Jill and director Derek Martini all did a Q and A and I asked, "Besides drawing from your own experience for your roles, how do you prepare for parts of your character you know nothing about, or you don't have experience with emotions they experience?" Emma answered, "I read the script over and over, and I think that you can relate to almost anything from your own experience." I respectfully disagreed in my mind, but nodded and smiled and was happy I interacted with an actress.

"I give it 3.5 Bitchin stars," said Blake. He docked the film for its incontinuity. "Did you see how many times the Windsor knot Jill was tying on Scott switched to different hands between shots? It was so annoying."

"Yeah, I like to nit pick the pointless details of a movie and render the large picture flawed because of small inconsistencies in a film as well."

We left feeling good about ourselves. I asked a question and Blake said Hi to Jill Hennessey on the way out. She engaged him in conversation as well. "She said hi back!" He said.

In the truck on the speedy trip home (blake was late for work), we continued our discussion. "Obviously Rory was made for that role because he was the same as he is in real life, but he was perfectly cast. His inward personality that interplayed with Emma provided a lot of emotion that was never verbally touched on or focused specifically on," I said. It was true. A certain situation that the viewer sees portrays a great amount of detail that is implied. A slumped posture, sitting on the roof of the house, shady eyes, an outburst of explitives, four spoken words, fishing for a compliment, all shout volumes to the mind, but in such a quiet way where one only acknowledges silently, "I know what's happening."

"It's just like the Road," said Blake.

"Just like the road," I said.

The Kite Runner

2009-01-14T22:49:00.000-08:00

There is a heartfelt vulnerability in this book that unfolds to the very last page. There is nothing that isn't refreshing and original in this. The Kite Runner. I've found that of the books I've read, many don't impress me. Maybe I have expectations that just go unfulfilled. This one delivered. It was sad. It was harrowing, it was jolting. Yet there is a character that actually changes in this book, and there is a deep sea of good we splash in for awhile. It's what we all want from humanity. And as touching as it is, it isn't too big to be unbelievable, and it isn't too magnificent to make it melodramatic. It is simple. One example Amir sees children staring at his watch as they sit on the ground eating their dinner. He asks permission to give the children the watch, then sees them play with it for a moment before tossing it from their play and attention. Later, he realizes, they were not staring at his watch, but at his food. This story is told in such a way, where a real event become a big deal, rather than the big deal being forced to become real.

I was also impressed with the complex side stories that all find their way back to tie into Amir, the main character. Hosseini tells a magnificent tale, and presents in the Kite Runner an overlying unity that all great stories have. Hosseini makes events tangible, then we are almost allowed to forget they happened, then their meaning resurfaces and allows for that aha moment that makes us really smile. The kite competition is a great example of this. First taking place in the beginning of the book, it's poignant then and you may think that is where the meaning and significance stops. Eventually it comes back into play, and we are left with an unforgettable full-circle ending.

It makes one appreciate the real blessing it is to live in a country where bombings aren't a normal occurence, and food is in surplus. We take so much for granted. There is so much to be thankful for.

A million Little Pieces by James Frey

2009-01-04T18:33:00.000-08:00

The first part of this book was believable and engaging. I felt the pain that James felt as he entered rehab, threw up every night, and even had his teeth pulled without anesthesia. Yes, I believed that. There is a certain realm where even in fiction an author can create a believable story that makes one forget it is a story. The mind allows a total submersion into the characters and development of the events. Frey did this, but his style, narration, and character development all crescendoed early and plateaued about two hundred pages in. I'll go ahead and attribute it to his introduction of Lilly.

Here is my beef. There is a point where you respect a guy for being tough and having street cred, but then when that person starts to peacock and show off how tough they are, it is unbelievable and kind of ridiculous. In Frey's case, he made himself unbelievable by trying to be too tough and too rebellious. He rebelled against the 12 steps. He rebelled against any form of higher power. He put himself in the most ridiculous asinine place an alcoholic should put himself in: a bar with a drink one inch from his face. That, to me, was ludicrous. Maybe it wasn't even that final act of defiance, it was that he wouldn't even tell his brother that he wanted to test himself. Instead, he let his brother believe that he just wanted to have a drink. That careless disregard for others made me lose huge amounts of respect for him.

As I mentioned earlier with Lilly, her introduction saw the downfall of a really good book. The story was/is supposed to be about James's recovery from addiction. I can totally believe him being with another chick and having them help eachother through that. But Frey makes his love affair with Lilly the main plot of the story for the last half of the book, which is not what his original intent was. On top of that, there ends up being no redeeming quality to having Lilly play such a large role in the story. If he's going to make up stuff (which he admitted to doing, which I don't have a problem with) then he should have made up some way to tie in Lilly's character better. Aristotle described beauty and great works of art as having continuity and completeness. All aspects of a work of art tie into the other. If you ever watch a critically acclaimed movie, you'll see that every character and event ties into a following character or event. It all builds on itself and ties into the end. That is good art. A million Little Pieces, though interesting, was not a well written book in my opinion.

Also, Frey's style of narration, which I would describe as a type of stream of consciousness (I don't think it technically is that but whatever) was very applicable when he originally was coming off of the initial drugs he was on. The chaos of the fragmented sentences, or "the million little pieces" going on inside his head made sense. As he came down over the next few weeks, I could even see him applying the type of narration to times when he became angry or upset. But he seemed to carry on the excessive fragments to times when it wasn't needed, i.e. when he was out in the back yard with Lilly, or when he was content. Either that or he could have done it a bit more tactfully, as I felt he was well over the top, and instead of coming off as chaotic and tense, it comes of as contrived and unintentionally poetic.

That people can overcome addiction is an admirable message however he does it, though I think most people trying to recover from addiction would be more let down than buoyed up reading this. Where only 16% of addicts go into long term remission from recovery centers, and those are the ones that follow the system, Frey disregards every failsafe meant for him and goes solo. That's not a good message I don't think.

Two books I've read from Oprah's book club: 100 Years of Solitude and this (which isn't a book on her list anymore I don't think) were both sadly disappointing. I'd say read the second one as it is interesting, but stay the hell away from Solitude.

Lastly, I'd like to address the fact that this memoir is probably mostly, if not partly, fictitious. Does it make the memoir any less powerful as a work of literature? This same question has been posed for works about the Holocaust. Several Jewish writers have written accounts that they originally claimed to be memoirs or first hand events, and then later it was discovered they were not. One writer, Binjamin Wilkomirski, wrote a book entitled Fragments, which was later found to be untrue. He said that he wrote it to not be totally factual, but as a way to embody the pain he felt from the Holocaust, though he never experienced it. Some Jewish leaders have hailed works like this as just as powerful as real accounts. Yet, like Frey, there are sometimes great public fallout from less than truthful writers.

Postmodernists would say that since the author's opinion doesn't matter, we can take a piece of literature for what it is: a piece of literature. There are not hidden intentions that we must uncover through its reading. Whatever is discovered is what we think matters, and that is all that matters. Yet maybe an author's intentions or personality taints their work. Paul H. Dunn, a "fired" general authority, told world war II stories over the pulpit as a Seventy that were heartfelt and extremely entertaining, but then they were proven to be totally fabricated. Could you feel the spirit in a story like this, even though it was totally false?

Or, we've had this conversation, does Michael Jordan's promiscuity taint his status as a sports icon? Does Michael Jackson's boy loving taint his music? Does Bill Clinton's dishonesty taint his presidency? They all still did great things from a world standpoint, so do we just take what they did at face value and forget the rest of them?

The Road

2009-01-02T19:17:00.000-08:00

A father and a boy try to survive an apocalyptic world. That is the terrifying story found in this book, and believe me, its terrifying. Then, at the end, it is simply beautiful and heart-warming.

McCarthy tells a story in a way that is subtle in its verbal portrayal of what is going on. There are words in a story, and then there are the images created in the mind. What isn't said can sometimes help to add certain details that make a character tangible or place the reader actually in a certain situation to experience an emotion or thought along with the character. McCarthy does this. A simple dialogue between the boy and his father is a charged emotional tension that is never verbalized on the page. The recognition of the father of some sound in the darkness or splatter of red on the snow conveys a searing hot idea into the brain that doesn't vanish away with the turn of the page. I won't forget the story because it was made real.

I will read this book again for sure. I actually read it while writing my final papers for a couple of my history classes. Some of my memorable quotes are these: (Spoiler alert: I don't give away the book, but it gives away possibly some interesting parts)

This is a scary part of the book when the man and the boy come across a house with some prisoners and they discover a horror of the evil people who live there:

"He started down the rough wooden steps. He ducked his head and then flicked the lighter and swung the flame out over the darkness like an offering. Coldness and damp. An ungodly stench. The boy clutched at his coat. He could see part of a stone wall. Clay floor. An old mattress darkly stained. He crouched and stepped down again and held out the light. Huddled against the back wall were naked people, male and female, all trying to hide, shielding their faces with their hands. On the mattress lay a man with his legs gone to the hip and the stumps of them blackened and burnt. The smell was hideous. Then one by one they turned and blinked in the pitiful light. Help us, they whispered. Please help us. He turned and grabbed the boy. Hurry, he said. Hurry."

This is from when the man speaks to his son, in a very moving way.

"I know, I'm sorry. You have my whole heart. You always did. You're the best guy. You always were. If I'm not here you can still talk to me. You can talk to me and I'll talk to you. You'll see.
Will I hear you?
Yes. You will. You have to make it like talk taht you imagine. And you'll hear me. You have to practice. Just don't give up. Okay?
Okay.
Okay."

Another line from the man to his boy.

"Goodness will find the little boy. It always has. It will again."

I can't recommend a book more than this. It is moving and touching and engaging all in one, and as I scanned the end again trying to put in a couple quotes I was still moved by it. McCarthy takes us to both ends of the spectrum of humanity both good and bad. It's definitely worth the three or four hours that you'll buzz through this in.

how coloring your hair is postmodern

2008-12-30T13:53:00.000-08:00

So Kate just changed her hair color. I just read Cylee's blog and she changed hers too. Cindy changed her hair three weeks ago. My mom colors her hair so its not an Arctic white (jokes mom). Friends of mine all around me have dyed their hair (mostly female with the exception of Darren). I even colored a GF's roots at one time in my life (it was a good job too. She said it was professional). What's the deal with coloring your hair?

Here's the thing. I just realized that coloring your hair is very post-modern. Why? It's not pink usually, and pink is the obvious postmodern color right? That is true, but the trend to make one's hair a color that it is not, or even to highlight (or as I've been told, lo-lite) a hair color is in a way artificial. It's not real. It is synthetic. Post-modernists are concerned with subjectivity. Before I get into that, a brief history of hair through the four periods of thought.

Enlightenment: Okay, an age defined by reason. Here women would pull their hair back and expose their forehead. A large forehead was a sign of intelligence and so it was the practice of men and women. It was also extremely formal and proper to have your hair back and not in your face. I got Jane Austen to help me out with some examples.

Romanticism: Here we see a contrast to the Enlightenment. Romantics were less formal and more concerned with emotion and passion. The hair begins to be let down and cover parts of the face. This is more primal and sexual, as can be displayed by any Revlon commercial with a woman throwing her hair back. Or here, with the stunning Kate Beckinsale.

Modernism: Louise Brooks was a huge figure in spurning the bob cut and short hair of women during the Modernist period. Some discuss how the equal rights movement caused women to cut their hair more like men, but it was always a fashion trend. In this case, the hair is simplistic and plain, even homely.

Back to Postmodernism: Besides being described as synthetic and somewhat a fabrication of reality, the Postmodern era has also been characterized by the phrase "death of the author" by Roland Barthes, where he discusses how an author's original intent becomes meaningless in literature or art. Thus, the critic or reader of a work determines all meaning. In other words, there is subjectivity. This seems to seep into culture as well, since now Nature doesn't define what a hair color is: the individual does synthetically with chemicals.

Postmodernism is also a throwback to many Romantic elements, so we see many women who wear their hair long and down, with added fashionable alterations.
We see a constructed over-the-top trend in architecture of Post-modernism, as opposed to the plain and simple functionality of the modernist period. We also see a plethora of neon colors and artificial colors in hair dos, as opposed to the simplicity of the short cut and single color of the Modernist age.

Post-modernism is also a time of mass produced consumer goods. Capitalism itself is not Post-modern, but the mass production of products for profits, especially that of goods that are not necessities is post-modern. Check your local grocery store to see how many hair coloring products there actually are, let alone hair products.

Ladies, don't get mad that you're a product of pop culture. The majority of women in America are today. Alright alright so are men. Maybe I'm poking fun, but we are all consumers. We consume. The Bourne Trilogy? Pop culture movies. Hurley and Element? Pop culture brands. Superman and X-men comics? Pop culture reading. Britney Spears and Michael Jackson? Pop culture music. It doesn't make it bad. Or does it? Does pop culture which is sometimes strictly for entertainment purposes, cause us to miss out on works of art that have meaning and power behind them beyond mere teasing of the senses? Hollywood has equations that are easy to follow to produce responses in us, and we are prone to react on cue. Maybe there are books and movies that require more effort on our part, and yet will produce lasting effects on us that originate within us because we are forced to think for ourselves. I had a professor tell me he thought I was an avid consumer of pop culture and its true. I do like Maroon5 and the X-men and Jason Bourne and 24 and the iphone. But it is what it is. Easy to like, and easy to consume. What do you think? Post a comment and let's discuss this further.

ladies, don't construe this as a veiled criticism at hair color. That's really not what I was getting at with my tangent!

So to all of you who color your hair, I say this to you. You're so Post-modern!

As an added thought, before finals I was thinking about how jelly-beans are postmodern. They're artificial, synthetic, colorful, and totally not what they claim to be. A cotton candy jelly belly is not cotton candy. It is sugar with artificial flavoring, that tricks you into thinking its cotton candy. It has no nutritional value (some would say much of pop culture is the same), and yet we love it. What do you say about that?

The Atonement by Ian McEwan

2008-12-28T21:24:00.000-08:00

Until the last ten pages of this book, I was left somewhat disappointed. I felt McEwan had given a showy display of his obvious writing talent, able to detail even the most mundane and dull thoughts and boring events into a character's thought pattern. Which is actually true, that's what he did. The book's plot is based on a shocking night of events and lies that end eventually in.... for you to find out.
Yet as grave as those events are, they, as well as their rippled effects, don't support the gravity of 350 pages of detail. If you're going to write a book of 350 pages, then they better have a little more plot and a little less conscious thought of each character about everything they are encountering.

Most of the time, I was able to swim through the paragraphs and link it to developing the character in some way, so you can't ever say a word was useless. Yet was it all necessary? Until the end of the book, no, it wasn't all necessary.

Then you discover, the book is actually the main character's work, that of Briony Tallis, and she, not McEwan or some other narrator, is setting the tone. Then, the showy and detailed consciousness of each character makes sense, since the character of Briony, an ignorant and hard-headed writer who loves attention and much to-do about herself, is the one writing it. And it all comes together.

Atonement. At the end of the book, Briony says, "The problem these fifty-nine years has been this: how can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God? There is no one, no entity or higher form that she can appeal to, or be reconciled with, or that can forgive her. There is nothing outside her. In her imagination she has set the limits and the terms. No atonement for God, or novelists, even if they are atheists. It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. The attempt was all."

Briony recognizes her sin as unforgivable. My contempt for her burned hot enough that I vocalized a couple choice words for her at one point in my basement while reading. Her whole story was to show her recognition of this, and then to somehow give an enduring love to her sister and Robbie with each person's completion of her novel.

We read her purpose in ending the story as she did, then we finish with a autobiographical narrative of the book, learning the true outcome. Briony herself said the real ending was too harsh and had no hope or message for the reader, and so was replaced with what actually was. So why do we, the real reader, get to end on such a sad note? Because the story isn't about Cecilia and Robbie. It's about Briony. It's about her character development, and what happened to her. It's about her Atonement. Is there still hope? Yes. One of my favorite passages was in a letter to Robbie from Cecilia while he was in France. He carried it in his pocket on the way back to Dunkirk: "I know I sound bitter, but my darling, I don't want to be. I'm honestly happy with my new life and my new friends. I feel I can breathe now. Most of all, I have you to live for. Realistically, there had to be a choice--you or them. How could it be both? I've never had a moment's doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one, my reason for life. Cee." Another letter, she ends: "You're in my thoughts every minute. I love you. I'll wait for you. Come back. Cee." It keeps Robbie alive.

McEwan uses incredible imagery, even if he causes us to OD on it. "the search for the cool corner of the pillow" or "His most sensual memories--their few minutes in the library, the kiss in Whitehall--were bleached colorless through overuse." Or, "He felt the pain in his side like a flash of color." Excellent imagery.

While I'm here, let me say a little something about the movie. The cinematography was excellent, as was the acting. But the story becomes about the two lovers, and not Briony. The story is about Robbie and Cecilia, but not centrally, and the movie makes it so, which of course makes sense, it is a love story. Some may argue the film does no such thing, since the final interview contains the remaining details about the truth of Briony, Robbie, and Cecilia, but then we are left with exactly what Briony wants, a happy image of the two on the beach arm in arm. Yes, it makes us feel happy, but it subverts the ending of the book in my opinion. I wonder what McEwan had to say about it.

Then again, you could ask if I subvert the meaning of this blog and of the book itself by my use of photos of the movie in the book's description? What a post-modern thing to do:)

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-25T14:05:00.000-08:00

Today I woke up, and a blurry white confetti swirled around my frosty window. It was Christmas morning (12pm don't judge) and what a fantastic time. A hearty laugh from Dad. A flash from Mom's camera. Duncan belly-up on the rug waiting for a tummy rub. And I, sitting by the Christmas tree, decorated with home-made and colorful ornaments, each imbued with its own special memory. The fire burned downstairs in the rustic stove and warmth filled our home. It wasn't all the fire's doing, I knew.

Then, a drill gun for dad. An ornate red shirt for mom. A forest brown Echo Hoodie for me (yeeah).

Then there were bows and wrapping paper all over the floor, the tell-tale sign of the wonderful gifts exchanged. I hug Mom and Dad and scratch Duncan's ears, and know this is a special time. Someday the sweaters are worn and the books eventually go on the shelf, but the time together somehow lasts. If not in crystallized memory, then in a nostalgic wave that rises within and breaks on the surface with a smile. Some distant day, I know, when I need it most. A day when there is no fire, and its cold to the touch, when a little warmth could do a body good. I store today away for that occasion, a small paper gift with a bow set under the tree. An orange sitting at the bottom of the stocking, waiting to be unpeeled and shared.

Today, I relish it. No naps today. Every second counts. Don't waste it, I tell myself. An extra hug here, a peck on the cheek there. Give that love away. It will be worth it.

Merry Christmas.

Me and Jessica

2008-12-15T00:44:00.000-08:00

I truly believe that dreams come true.

That said, last night I dreamt that Jessica Alba and I made out in her Malibu mansion. Yes, crazy, yet believable, and inevitable.
Here's the scoop before you see it in People.

I had just sat down on this beautiful beige couch inside Jessica Alba's parlor. There was a black metal staircase to my left, a water-fountain to my right, and huge pane windows on all sides of the room. The stairway led to a partial balcony above us, and in the background I could hear a few of my friends chatting away. I was talking with Jessica. She wasn't prego, and was definitely not married but only engaged. I distinctly knew she was spoken for, so I wasn't putting on any of my moves (had I done so, Jessica wouldn't have been able to resist for as long as she did. Obviously). We continued engaging in witty banter much like that found in her stellar films i.e. The Eye, Good Luck Chuck, Deep Blue Sea, etc. I noticed she kept looking at me, how do you say, longingly? Hungrily? I paid this no attention, other than the brief synapse of acknowledgement in my cerebrum, and continued explaining some intricate theory she was so obviously interested in. This continued for awhile, until finally, when I turned again to face her from glancing behind me, her gaze fell to my deliciously vanilla lips (plug for Melaleuca lip balm. You're welcome, Frank). And that's when she lunged at me. Our lips engaged eachother, like they were yin and yang. I ran my hand through her auburn hair, and closed my eyes wondering if this was a dream. When I realized it was, it didn't matter that she was engaged, since there would be no regrets when I woke up. Plus, in a dream, there is no moral high ground. And who says no to a kiss from Jessica Alba?

We moved things to the bathroom (it was really a nice, expensive and clean bathroom) and continued to partake of the sweet carnal nectar. She said that since she saw me, she couldn't keep from wanting me. I said that it was obvious what her feelings were. The kissing that ensued was much like that found in the scene of Wanted where Angelina kisses James Mcavoy in slo mo with rocking music going on in the background. Well played Ben. Well played.

Then I woke up. Most times, if Im in a good dream, I'll try to go back to sleep, but in this case our sewage system was on the frits and the plumber had just arrived. So I couldn't return to my castle in a cloud.

No matter, it's a prophetic dream, I just know it.

Jonestown and how its postmodern

2008-12-10T17:40:00.000-08:00

Jonestown documents the massacre of over 900 people in one day at a small religious community cut in Guyana. Founded by Jim Jones, the religious community began in Indianapolis, Indiana in the 1950’s and eventually moved to San Francisco to support itself. Jones was charismatic and persuasive, and combined his liberal civil rights views with his religious preachings to create a powerful yet controlled fanaticism that did much good, but eventually became catastrophic.
Several elements reflect Postmodern thought. The first of which is the actual subject material: the rise and fall of the community called the Peoples Temple. Jones made it clear that he was setting himself up to people as whatever they wanted him to be. If they wanted a leader, it was him. If they wanted a friend, it was him. If they wanted a God, it was him. He took away the God of religion and set himself in its place. Postmodern thought is known for its refusal to acknowledge the artist or author’s meaning or reasons for creating a work of art or literature, and instead rests with the viewer or reader. The same with religion. There was no christianity for people here, but if they wanted religion they could read whatever they wanted into Jones’s organization, and that was true to them. They could see him as a prophet if they chose. Unfortunately, that was exactly what he wanted.
There was also a definite breakaway from civil and social norms. Modernism had helped create the social sciences, even some that weren’t in practice anymore. Eugenics and sciences dealing with race helped foster in America a strong racism that was rampant during the sixties and seventies. Jones and his followers broke from any type of racist notions and considered all people equal, which was a true form of free thought at the time. It definitely broke from the modernist social sciences and those who used it to propagate racism. Most of Jones’s followers eventually left the United States to form a separate community in Guyana. They weren’t going to accept even America’s laws or social traditions, but instead create their own. They redefined culture and society to what they felt was true and applicable to them.
The actual documentary is also postmodern. There is little if any narration. It is all a splicing of different eyewitnesses and participators who tell their story. A new story is created from this splicing, which is how the viewer gets their own interpretation. The director, producer, and makers of the film had no say, and they let the work express meaning to the viewer alone. This is a postmodern way of presentation.
However, we also see that there is a brooding score, which helps with emotional buildup and draws the viewer in. There definitely is a purpose with the documentary, and it wasn’t just to inform, but also in a way to entertain. Postmodernists are concerned with consumerism and mass marketing products. Creating an interesting and intense documentary is a way to turn a tragedy into a product that can be enjoyed for entertainment, much like movies that make use of War material or Holocaust material for the same purpose. It is an interesting and controversial way to entertain people, yet most modern consumers eat up any type of movie, book, or song that is packaged the right way, no matter what the subject matter is.
Jonestown is an interesting adaptation of Post-Modern thought.

Monster Rough Draft

2008-12-10T13:05:00.000-08:00

I've added some more content to my book! You should check it out at monsterroughdraft.wordpress.com and let me know what you think! I'll also link to it in my blogroll.

Twilight

2008-11-30T01:33:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: The author of BitchinFilmReviews.com begged me to watch this film so he could "do a review on his movie blog", so because I'm a good guy, I consented. Also, you can read Cinder's review here.

Twilight made for a great parody of a drama. Unknowingly, the director made a comedy. The film really plays out like some sort of extended Saturday Night Live Short. What's amazing, and to me, what exposes what the book actually is (crappy mcrap), is that the movie is extremely accurate to the written account by Stefanie Meyers (a BYU alum. Go Cougs!). That is, a melodramatic compliment-fest between a several hundred year old vampire and a seventeen year old. They're so in love. They'd die for eachother after only knowing eachother for a few weeks. Please. Bella, you're seventeen. Are you really going to let Edward make you a vampire for all eternity based on a high school crush? Only like 4% of high school crushes work out.

Most of the movie is staring into Edward or Bella's eyes as they exhale breath awkwardly.

The first scene that revealed the depth of the film was when Bella sees Edward in the science lab. Edward looks as if he's about to puke, and covers his mouth. We (the theater audience) laughed. Literally laughed. He then exits rudely.

Another fun scene is during a flashback, when Edward is christened a vampire (pun intended. Get it? Christened a vampire? Christened the spawn of satan? haha!). Carlyle sniffs around Edward's Choleric and sweaty neck and takes a nice big bite out of him like he was at the Golden Corral. Edward writhes in pain. It was so awkward and funny.

Also, Edward sneaks into Bella's room and watches her sleep. Give me an fing break. That is so creepy.

Or when Bella rides around on Edward as he runs through the forest, that's really funny too.

Or that Edward's skin is made of...diamonds? Meyers I'm sure was as surprised as I am at the success of her series.

There is a major difference in character believability and development between Twilight (I can only comment on the first book which I read and its movie) and the Harry Potter series (which I read all and have seen all films thus far). That difference is stark. Potter would definitely kick Edward's centurial ass. Beyond that, even though wizards and witches is about as believable as vampires at first glance, Rowling builds a world not singly on a love addiction of a girl, but on a lonely and different boy who has many different areas of exploration for the reader i.e. sports (quittage), education (Hogwarts), revenge (Voldemort), not to mention love tension (Hermione, Cho, Ron's little sister,). Where Meyers spent the first 300 pages tripping over herself to talk about Bella's crush on Edward and Edward's uncontrollable love/sex/hunger for Bella, Rowling throws Potter's love interest into the mix and lets it simmer on low. Meyers finally introduces a rising tension in the plot about the last fifty pages (or last ten minutes of the movie, right after the ridiculous baseball game in the middle of the forest where Edward and his buddy jump fifty feet into the air and collide with eachother). Rowling introduced Voldemort from the first chapter. And it took seven books to develop to the orgasmic ending.

What scares me, is that after the success of Twilight, Meyer's publishers decided she didn't need any editing for her books. Whoa. What? (I will also mention the numerous spelling errors in the book. Maybe she didn't have an editor for the first one either).

In other words, Twilight will get you a few laughs, or if you just are a sucker for ridiculous, unbelievable stories about passionate and overbearing puppy love, then you may like the movie.

My guess is you won't.

Monster: a Novel

2008-11-26T20:11:00.001-08:00

Intriguing, right? I have wanted to start writing a story for quite awhile, and I finally started. I made a new blog entitled: http://monsterroughtdraft.wordpress.com that you can check out if you so choose and stay up on the latest. Just realize it's not edited very much, it's just a way for me to get the main plot and ideas down. Here is the beginning of the first chapter. Tell me what you think!

Her eyes opened suddenly.

It was bright. Her arm moved to shade her face, and in doing so tore a tube from her arm. She gasped for breath like she was drowning in a calm sea. Everything was dull and blurry, unfocused. Eyelashes. Red on the blanket to her right. Blood.

She heard nothing. large people began scurrying into the room. They were colorful. Blue and green. Salmon. A towering white blur hovered over her. It’s face was close to hers. She couldn’t see anything except it’s brown eyes commanding everything in the room. They turned to her. It’s gaze fell on her. Her face. It winced. It mumbled something. She felt hands on her shoulders. She was shaking. Shaking.

She began to hear something. A voice.

She was warm. Her feet kicked the blanket from her body. The people were yelling at each other. Why were they yelling? Quit yelling she thought. She grabbed hold of something. The bed. It was the railing along the bed. She tried to push herself up but the white figure held her down. Why are you touching me? She began to thrash. He was strong. Or she was weak.

The sound was louder. It was a voice. A woman’s voice.

There was sunlight coming in from a window. The shades were open. It was so hot. She could feel the sweat on her brow. Dripping. Dripping onto the damp pillow. Let me go. Let me go, please.

They were handing things back and forth. Tools maybe. For what? It was hard for her to move. She had to get up and get out. Get up and get out! She continued thrashing but more of the colors were pinning her to the bed. Get off me. She looked to her right. Metal bar attached to a black screen with flashing lights. Beeping. Again she noticed the red stain on the sheets. Blood. Her blood. Get off me!

The sound grew louder. It was loud enough to recognize. The sound was her. It was her own scream echoing around the room.

A blue blur stepped close to her face. It had something in its hand. It grabbed her shoulder and with a quick thrust pushed a needle into her arm. She knew because of the prick she felt. Please, no. Don’t do this.

The scream was louder than ever. It escaped from the room and ran down the halls, turning heads all the way.

She began feeling it. The darkness. It was coming again. Please, God. Not again. Her mind was churning. Her face was on fire. Her eyes couldn’t see anything in the light, but she knew they could see in the darkness. Yes, the images. The pictures were still there. The darkness would make them return.

The scream became tears.

She began to relax. Her eyes were heavy. She began struggling to keep them open, keep them from seeing. God keep them from me she thought. She remembered. The blood. The eyes. Hazel eyes staring into her, through her, without a reason, without life. Her consciousness began to retreat inwards, like a flower retrieving its blossom. She saw her hand, limp on the bed. A plastic band around her wrist. Her breath became soft and slow. Fight it she thought. Don’t go to sleep.

She heard angry voices still. Yelling above her. Too much. Too much what? It doesn’t matter, it was too late for her she thought. She missed her chance. She almost escaped. Now, it was too late to escape the darkness.

There was fire everywhere. She felt it. Burning flames all around them. She smelled the tires. Please god, no more.

She was almost asleep. The darkness almost had her. The colors stood around her, watching, like some sort of seance. They were quiet. She was quiet. Sunlight beamed into the room. But she was retreating quickly from it. Back into the dungeon.

The white blur leaned towards her and whispered. It whispered something that tickled her nose. She felt a hand on her side. Don’t leave me, please. Please don’t leave.

Then they faded away. They all faded away.

Is there such a thing as neutral?

2008-11-23T16:32:00.000-08:00

During World War II, several countries remained neutral. They helped both countries, or didn't aid either of them. Switzerland had been neutral since 1815. They were very beneficial to the Nazis, since they served as a storage country for Nazi loot as well as protected part of Germany's border.

Sweden, the Republic of Ireland, and Spain all declared neutrality much later than Switzerland.

We could look at America for the same issues. Is America "neutral" when it chooses not to get involved in 3rd World genocides and wars?

I think there is some legitimacy to staying neutral. With smaller countries, if they get involved, they are only setting themselves up to get slaughtered. Had Switzerland joined the allies, they would've been annexed by Germany I believe. IF they joined the Axis, they would have lost a lot of lives and been condemned by the Allies. As a neutral country, they came out quite well from World War II.

So we establish that it is economically and politically good for a country to stay neutral during war. But is it good morally?

Unless someone reads about history, most people couldn't tell you that Switzerland was neutral, or any of the other countries. I couldn't have until I learned it in class. Now that we know, it's easy for us to pass judgment and say they should have done something. But the one truth is that every country is usually out for itself first. Churchill, FDR, Stalin, Eisenhower, Hitler, and every other leader is out to make the best decisions for their own people first. Is that wrong?

Like a previous post, I discussed Amen and how nobody would take action even when they knew millions of people were being killed. It's the same situation here. Maybe not taking a side is taking a side. If some country is killing people, and you do nothing to stop it, are you not helping to kill those people?

I guess I don't really have a good answer. Morally, I feel it is wrong to not take sides. Politically, if I were a president, I could see myself having a little more difficult time signing a declaration of war. What do you reckon?

Mude Tod, Der (Destiny) 1921

2008-11-22T03:20:00.000-08:00

There is something very powerful about a silent film. Destiny was no exception. The story follows a woman who loses her husband to Death. After stopping at an inn, she wakes up to find that he has vanished. On the outskirts of the city is a large stone wall encroaching an area that seems unreachable. It is this moment when the woman sees her husband's spirit, accompanied with many other spirits, pass through the wall.

The woman meets Death, a meloncholy, gray haired man who resembles a tired, gentle grandpa. He reveals he can't reunite the lovers since he be violating God's laws. He shows her a room of candles, the candles of each person's life, and says that each person only has so much time before their candle blows out. This is the point of the movie I started noticing contemporary symbolism, motifs, and even camera shots and angles that we see everyday in film. It made me think that really, these ideas were first originated at some point, and have been used ever since. How interesting it is to find out many of the modern styles and modes of film were created almost a century ago, and are still utilized today.

Death says that if the woman can save any of three lives about to blow out, then she can have her love back. Then the film presents three separate vignettes each containing a love story that ends in a lover's death. One is set in the Middle East with the Turks, another in Italy, and the final in China. Each story presents a powerful dictator who eventually kills one of the lovers.

The woman cannot save any of the people, and Death makes her one final offer: in exchange for her lover's life, she must find another to take his place. She asks the old man who took her in for his life, as he is old. The beggar, for he is useless. The old hags, for they yearn for death. They all recoil from the woman. Finally, in a hospital fire, she has the opportunity to give a small infant to Death, but chooses not to. Death takes her to her love, since her time is up now anyway.

More than the film, I enjoyed a discussion with a couple classmates about how the film relates to Modernism afterward. Form was a critical element of Modernism. The use of special effects was a way of reinterpreting film and photography during the Modern period. The use of lithiography or writing on top of the film, magical element of fading in and out characters as spirits, the flying carpet of the Chinese Magician, these were all types of special effects which were utilized because of Modernism, which tried to oppose old ways of thinking and art.

The actual material also demonstrated Modernist Motifs. The portrayal of Death was seen not as an evil skeleton wanting to steal lives, but as an objective man abiding by a law. Science had emerged in Medicine during the late 19th century with Germ theory, anesthesia, and morbid anatomy. There was a transition from viewing life and death as polar opposites, where death stole life, to both acting as corollary or together. It was more viewed as death just being a part of life. Therefore, death was reinterpreted not as a bad thing, but as objective and universal.

In addition, there was much talk of God, but not necessarily a Christian God. In fact, several different cultures had different takes on God during the film, such as the Muslims and Allah. At the end of the film, one fountain even had a statue that looked like and Indian God to me. This was a way of reinterpreting a single, true religion as being a universal truth that existed with different views (chinese, Turkish, Italian, etc).

The film also reinterpreted the belief that love can conquer all. In the end, love didn't conquer death. I think Romantics viewed love, and emotional love as a powerful solution, or a way to overcome difficulty, even death. Modernism reconsiders this view, which follows logical suit since the horrors of World War I influenced people so heavily. Even though the film ends with a somewhat happy ending where both lovers are reunited in spirit, we still see that Death won. Maybe it's not just about love being subverted, but also the idea that good triumphs over evil. Death isn't even considered evil here, so maybe the movie is saying that there is no good and evil.

Another comment would be that there was no central setting to the film. It took place all over the world in separate and distinct countries. Modernism could be described as an ideology that has no center, or that has no central structure that supports everything else. This is embodied in the setting choices.

Modernism can be quite hard, at least for me, to articulate or conceptualize. One classmate commented that Modernist thinkers usually picked out a single element, and subverted it alone, keeping every other aspect about an ideology the same. For instance, in Art with the emergence of photography, we would see a man painted descending a staircase as a frozen microstate: in other words, he would be portrayed taking a step frozen in time. Photography could be used to show the same man walking down the entire staircase as a blur, since the light exposure could be allowed a greater capture time causing a blurred subject passing down all the stairs. Modernists would say this is the reality of the subject, not the freeze-frame. Thus, art began to be portrayed not as still life, but as cuboidal, or began merging 2D and 3D (Picasso does this).

Thus, the film entitled Destiny shows us what we usually don't consider Destiny: death. Death is the destiny for us all.

This is the conclusion of the movie, not my conclusion. I am just trying to illustrate this new interpretation on life because of Modernism. It was bleak, probably because it was post World War I.

"You're money, baby."

2008-11-21T02:08:00.001-08:00

This blog is probably for the fellas. Sorry ladies, maybe you can vote on the best baby name to the right??? Cheers thanks.

Awright baby. Swingers is definitely one of the greatest guy films of all time. Darren and I have watched this film seven or eight times and it's never a let down. It stars Vince Vaughn as the ultra-suave and smooth Wingman named Trent, and Jon Favreau as the sad loser Mike. The dealio goes: Mike is a broken-hearted, broken man. His girlfriend broke up with him six months ago and he can't get past it. Trent, his best mate, is money with the girls, and is a good friend. This guy is "straight butta" to put it in contemporary slang (wait, that's an eight year old phrase...). Anyway, Trent is always talking up Mike, trying to get him to loosen up and grow a pair. The whole movie is about picking up chicks, or at least that's what it seems. In the end, Mike finds a girl by being his queer and awkward self. Here's the rub: It's money picking up chicks. But we're all money. We're all money baby. We just don't know we're money.

So here are some of my favorite quotes and dialogue from the movie.

Trent and Mike take a road trip to Vegas (wow this situation never happened to me...). Here they're talking themselves up.

Trent: They're gonna give daddy the Rainman suite, you dig that?
Mike: Do you think we'll get there by midnight?
Trent: Baby, we're going to be up five hundy by midnight!

Mike just gets a girl's number (I really couldn't watch it was so bad, but he pulled it off.) He asks the pickup gods Trent and Sue how long he should wait to call her.

Mike: So how long do I wait to call?
Trent: A day.
Mike: Tomorrow.
Sue: Tomorrow, then a day.
Trent: Yeah.
Mike: So two days?
Trent: Yeah, I guess you could call it that, two days.
Sue: Definitely, two days is like industry standard.
Trent: You know I used to wait two days to call anybody, but now it's like everyone in town waits two days. So I think three days is kind of money. What do you think?
Sue: Yeah, but two's enough not to look anxious.
Trent: Yeah, two's enough not to look anxious. But I think three days is kind of money. You know because you...
Mike: Yeah, but you know what, mabey I'll wait 3 weeks. How's that? And tell her I was cleaning out my wallet and I just happened to run into her number.
Charles: Then ask her where you met her.
Mike: Yeah, I'll ask her where I met her. I don't remember. What does she look like? Is that... would that be... T, would that be the money?
Trent: You know what. Ha ha ha Mike, laugh all you want but if you call too soon you might scare off a nice baby who's ready to party.
Mike: Well how long are you guys gonna wait to call your babies?
Trent, Sue: Six days.

Mike is pretty down on himself. His buddy Rob gives him (and us) good advice.

Rob: You don't look at the things that you have, you only look at the stuff that you don't have. Those guys are right about you - you're money.
Mike: Then why won't she call?
Rob: She won't call because you left. she's got her own life to deal with, man, and that's in New York... alright? And she's a sweet girl, and I love her to pieces, but fuck her, man. You gotta get on with your life. You gotta let go of the past. And Mikey, when you do, I'm telling you: the future is beautiful, alright? Look out the window. It's sunny every day here. It's like manifest destiny. Don't tell me we didn't make it. We made it! We are here. And everything that is past is prologued to this. All of the shit that didn't kill us is only - you know, all that shit. You're gonna get over it.
Mike: How did you get over it? I mean, how long did it take?
Rob: Sometimes it still hurts. You know how it is, man. It's like, you wake up every day and it hurts a little bit less, and then you wake up one day and it doesn't hurt at all. And the funny thing is, is that, this is kinda wierd, but it's like, it's like you almost miss that pain.
Mike: You miss the pain?
Rob: Yeah, for the same reason that you missed her... because you lived with it for so long.

Mike being his normal weaksauce self with the ladies. Trent and Sue give him a good analogy:

Trent: You know what you are? You're like a big bear with claws and with fangs...
Sue: ...big fucking teeth, man.
Trent: Yeah... big fuckin' teeth on ya'. And she's just like this little bunny, who's just kinda cowering in the corner.
Sue: Shivering.
Trent: Yeah, man just kinda... you know, you got these claws and you're staring at these claws and your thinking to yourself, and with these claws you're thinking, "How am I supposed to kill this bunny, how am I supposed to kill this bunny?"
Sue: And you're poking at it, you're poking at it...
Trent: Yeah, you're not hurting it. You're just kinda gently batting the bunny around, you know what I mean? And the bunny's scared Mike, the bunny's scared of you, shivering.
Sue: And you got these fucking claws and these fangs...
Trent: And you got these fucking claws and these fangs, man! And you're looking at your claws and you're looking at your fangs. And you're thinking to yourself, you don't know what to do, man. "I don't know how to kill the bunny." With *this* you don't know how to kill the bunny, do you know what I mean?
Sue: You're like a big bear, man.
Mike: So you're not just like fucking with me?
Trent: No I'm not fucking with you.
Sue: Honestly, man.

Trent picking up a waitress in a nasty Casino in Vegas:

Trent: Baby, that was money! Tell me that wasn't money.
Mike: That was so demeaning.
Trent: She smiled, baby.
Mike: I can't believe what an asshole you are.
Trent: Did she, or did she not smile.
Mike: She was smiling at what an asshole you are.
Trent: She was smiling at how money I am, baby.

Trent giving advice again to Mike:

Trent: I don't want you to be the guy in the PG-13 movie everyone's *really* hoping makes it happen. I want you to be like the guy in the rated R movie, you know, the guy you're not sure whether or not you like yet. You're not sure where he's coming
from. Okay? You're a bad man. You're a bad man, Mikey. You're a bad man, bad man.

The opening scene. This is the psychology behind the breakup. This is the mental angst we have to go through. It sucks.

Mike: Okay, so what if I don't want to give up on her?
Rob: You don't call.
Mike: But you said I don't call if I wanted to give up on her.
Rob: Right.
Mike: So I don't call either way?
Rob: Right.
Mike: So what's the difference?
Rob: There is no difference right now. See, Mike, the only difference between giving up and not giving up is if you take her back when she wants to come back. But you can't do anything to make her want to come back. In fact, you can only do stuff to make her not want to come back.
Mike: So the only difference is if I forget about her or just pretend to forget about her?
Rob: Right.
Mike: Well that sucks.
Rob: Yeah, it sucks.
Mike: So it's just like a retroactive decision, then? I mean I could, like, forget about her and then when she comes back make like I just pretended to forget about her?
Rob: Right. Although probably more likely the opposite.
Mike: What do you mean?
Rob: I mean at first you're going to pretend to forget about her, you'll not call her, I don't know, whatever... but then eventually, you really will forget about her.
Mike: Well what if she comes back first?
Rob: Mmmm... see, that's the thing, is somehow they know not to come back until you really forget.
Mike: There's the rub.
Rob: There's the rub.

Best line of the film:

Trent: Vegas, baby. Vegas

Fellas, this is like the cinematic breakthrough that documents how awesome we could be with the ladeez, or how douche-baggery we can be. More than that, it's about looking inside ourselves and realizing the "Bear" within us, and the "sharpness of our claws and fangs" so to speak. We're all money. We're money baby.

Bond Vs. Bond

2008-11-20T04:58:00.000-08:00

This video is one of my favorites as of late. Give it a go.

Falscher, Die (The Counterfeiters)

2008-11-19T15:39:00.000-08:00

Only the strong and dirty survive the Concentration camps. That is what has been said of the Jews who lived through the Holocaust. The kind, honest, and compassionate went up in a puff of smoke, and the conniving, cheating, and ruthless lived. Maybe that is true, or maybe it is not, but this true story shows an interesting perspective on the Holocaust.

Saloman was a forger. He was successful. He had survived the war in Germany for several years. Unfortunately he was caught. He survives in Mauthausen, a camp for the political elite and educated enemies of the Reich. He is cunning, and able to make his skills known and utilize them for survival. He orchestrates the discovery of his artistic ability, and begins doing portraits for the Nazi soldiers. As a valuable asset, he is well fed, and makes himself valuable.

Eventually he is discovered by the same man who put him away, and he is sent to Sauchsenhausen to begin a forgery operation called "Project Bernhard". The effort is to destroy the allies economies with too much printed money.

The film portrays a stifled horror, one that makes you want to scream because of its subtle material. What happens behind closed doors is magnified in the mind. Behind walls where these elite workers are playing ping pong, are gunshots. When they are thrown in the showers, they wait...until the water comes on. The real conditions of the camp are hidden from these prisoners, but they and we know what's really going on, and it makes the film that much more intense.

Hard moral decisions must be made. Herzog, one of Saloman's friends, quits working on the forgeries because it would prolong the war and kill more people. Saloman, as we know, is out to save his own life. It's the only way to survive. The movie deals with these questions very well. It is no wonder the film won an Oscar for best foreign film of 2008.

I questioned myself what I would have done in the same situation. I know I would've wanted to live. I didn't cause the war, so doing what I could to stay alive definitely would have been appealing. Would my conscience have let me do so? Could I have lived knowing everyone was dying around me? I don't know. I imagine I would have been so scared I would have done a lot to stay alive.

What would you have done?

Amen

2008-11-18T15:08:00.000-08:00

When I finished watching Amen, I really felt injustice. The movie subverts the horror of the Jews and reverses it so you feel it towards Kurt Gerstein, the S.S. Officer protagonist. He tried the whole movie to get the ball rolling with the Americans, the Vatican, and his own people, and nobody would lift a finger. Everyone was happily ignorant. What was most striking was when Riccardo, the only Catholic Priest sympathetic to Gerstein, sits down at a dinner with several of the Cardinals, U.S. Ambassadors, and their families, and not one of them is moved by Riccardo's pleas. He dropped the statistics of how many Jews were being killed, how it would be a matter of time before Germany was killing Jews in Italy, even Christians, and he only received contempt.

The movie makes you question what you would have done, and how easy it would have been to do nothing. Gerstein can't openly oppose the Nazis, or his family would have been killed. Instead, he tries to delay shipments of Zyklon B, and causes fiascos over "leaks" in the gas, making it unusable. Unfortunately, his efforts go mainly to waste, for he really isn't able to save anyone.

Once the war is finally over, he is sent to prison. He hangs himself, knowing there is nothing he can say to be free of the condemnation of the world, although he did everything that was within his power.

Truly, the film is quite upsetting. I was truly in horror watching as the Pope himself declare his hands tied, and wouldn't come out against the Nazis when he could have. His advisors were no better. Everyone was out for themselves and themselves alone, and when people are in high positions with lots of sway, they could be heard around the world during a time such as this.

As I write this, I feel my own hypocrisy. Today we know or at least hear about the horrible things happening in the world around us. Darfur, Rwanda, Ethiopia, Afghanistan, Iran, China, etc. The Olympics in China are a good example: hundreds of homes were destroyed so the Olympic grounds could be built; the rewards of a Socialist Mao Ze Dong regime. What else did China hide from the world? Yet we still hold the most prestigious games there knowing full well what they've done.

We are an isolationist country. Is it our job to police the world? Should we have been involved in Germany earlier? If we say yes, then we also have to say we should be in Africa and the Middle East until they have as many Marriott Hotels and fast food restaurants as we do. But nobody is saying that today. We want to get out of there as fast as possible, and basically "leave them to their own devices".

The reality is, that people all over the world are dying everyday, and we can be involved or we can't. Most likely, our efforts will be too small and always too late for someone. Just like in Amen.

Cannonball by Damien Rice

2008-11-17T23:27:00.000-08:00

Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
Still a little hard to say what's going on

Still a little bit of your ghost your witness
Still a little BIT of your face I haven't kissed
You step a little closer EACH DAY
Still I can't SAY what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannonball

Still a little bit of your song in my ear
Still a little bit of your words I long to hear
You step a little closer TO ME
So close that I can't see what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannon

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage!
Teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall
And I don't WANNA scare her
It's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna lose
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know

A Bond you can Respect...

2008-11-14T19:07:00.000-08:00

Spoiler Alert! (Warning, some jokes and references could give away events in the film, so read this after you've seen the movie!)

Six years ago when you thought of James Bond, you thought Martinis, women, and STD's. Now, you think assassin, loyal, and badass. Quantum of Solace is no disappointment, and Daniel Craig solidifies the new Bond character as a strong, intelligent, sometimes vulnerable MI6 agent that takes care of Her Majesty's badass business. And when I say take care of, I really mean kill or stow away in the Bolivian Desert somewhere.

The film tried to make a political statement about how governments of very powerful and punitive countries are all in bed with dirty scum bags. It was particularly critical of greasy CIA agents. Damn Americans...

Much hype has surrounded the new Bond chick Olga Kurylenko, who plays Camille in the film. Rolling Stone called her, "The worst Bond girl ever." Is it because she doesn't sleep with Bond? Or is it because she has an agenda of her own? Or because she's Russian? Who knows. What I will say is she's strong, independent, and sexy, and I think those are all qualities for a good Bond chick.

The film is jam packed with car chases, boat chases, and plane chases (and yes, that sentence was intentional and accurate). It's got gun fights, knife fights, fights in elevators, fights on balconies, fights in burning buildings, fights in different countries, and fights in fancy hotels. One particularly fun scene Bond breaks both arms of an attacker, stabs him in the leg and chest, and while he's pinned to the ground watches the man take his last breath. No biggie. All in a days work for 007.

In Casino Royale, I really enjoyed the vulnerability of Bond's character. In previous installments of Ian Fleming's Bond series Bond was really a very flat character who was always the same womanizer in every scene of every film. Like Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace continues to let 007 let his guard down. We also see the compassion behind the steel exterior when Bond comforts his friend Mathis, reminiscent of when he sat in the shower (while still in his Tuxedo) to comfort Vesper Lynd played by Eva Green in Casino Royale. Both directors of the two films Campbell and Forster understood that a Bond we could feel for and experience real emotional pain with was a Bond we would really connect with. Good call guys.

I must say that Bond really has become like Jason Bourne, and I wonder if the director's knew this was the direction the spy/espionage/action movie was going to really captivate audiences. Okay I don't wonder, I fully believe they did know, else why would they be directing blockbusters right?

See the film.

The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff

2008-11-13T01:19:00.000-08:00

What an interesting way to explain Taoist principles. I will be honest though. I liked the book for its philosophical anecdotes and citations from actual Taoist stories and writings, not the interspersing of Winnie the Pooh. In a way, trying to use Pooh and his mates as illustration for the supposedly simplest Eastern model of thought is, in the words of Joey Tribiani, a moo point. (Useless, like a cow's opinion. You know, moo).

I read this a couple months back, and when I decided to blog about it, I couldn't remember one damn thing. Rereading it, I found that I skimmed over all of the Pooh stories and just found what Hoff was trying to get at, which were very easily understood and useful Taoist principles. But you can't fault the guy for trying.

He explains the principle of the uncarved block, or simplicity of life. The power of wisdom and not of knowledge or "useless learning". The awareness of our inner nature. One excerpt in particular I enjoyed:

While sitting on the banks of the P'u River, Chuang-tse was approached by two representatives of the Prince of Ch'u, who offered him a position at court. Chuang-tse watched the water flowing by as if he had not heard. Finally, he reamrked, "I am told that the PRince has a sacred tortoise, over two thousand years old, which is kept in a box, wrapped in silk and brocade." "That is true," the officials replied. "If the tortoise had been given a choice," Chuang-tse continued, "Which do you think he would have liked better--to have been alive in the mud, or dead within the palace?" "To have been alive in the mud, of course," the men answered. "I too prefer the mud," said Chuang-tse. "Good-bye."

We can see from this that if we have an inner purpose or inner nature, it would be pointless to go against it. Rather than trying to cut a particularly knotted tree which would have required vast amounts of work to turn into lumbar, Chuang-tse recommends realizing the tree's inner nature and using it for shade, or protection from the wind. LIke this, Hoff points out we shouldn't stay in jobs or relationships or cities that don't match up with our inner nature.

Another principle, Wu Wei, literally "without doing, causing or making". It is to go with the flow. To not fight against the current, like when you're caught in a riptide along the beach, you swim with it to get out. We shouldn't fight our inner nature or circumstances, but go with them, and things naturally will work themselves out.

Hoff seems to have some disdain for the Puritans and other early settlers of America, for they seemed, in his eyes, miserable. They were so busy changing everything around them, they didn't notice that everything was already beautiful. They couldn't live off the land like the American Indians, but had to work desperately to till it, and couldn't find happiness because they were waiting for it somewhere else. Like them, we spend most of our time running from one thing to another to do, and miss out on being aware of our lives, and being aware of the contentment and happiness we could enjoy day to day. Tao, or the way, is realizing that goals are important not for their attainment, but for the path towards them, which is really what we should reap our enjoyment from. Once the goal is attained, the excitement is over. Much like Christmas morning, when all of the presents are being opened, it's over in a moment, and the real enjoyment was the anticipation of opening the actual presents.

True, but opening presents is still fun.

Chuang-tse said, "It is widely recognized that the courageous spirit of a single man can inspire to victory an army of thousands. If one concerned with ordinary gain can create such an effect, how much more will be produced by one who cares for greater things!" This is very beautiful. It makes me think of all the things that happen in the world that we just don't care about. If we did, we could make such a difference.

The Great Nothing can be described with the writings of Lao-Tse in the Tao Te Ching:

To attain knowledge, add things everyday. To attain wisdom, remove things every day." So, the Great nothing is something Hoff says. Instead of being so busy, we should fill our lives with emptiness. We will find wisdom and tranquility.

We realize that all of the characters of the book: Eeyore, Rabbit, Owl, Piglet, and Pooh, are in all of us. They all have their pitfalls. We should become more like Pooh, and Hoff shows us the Tao, or the Way, with Pooh's stories.

I find this great truth in my life, that I learn many valuable principles and seek them out constantly, but the mere application of a few would be sufficient to change my life dramatically. Why not cut out everything else and focus on the few? Why not simplify? Maybe doing so is the Way. The Tao of Pooh.

Reason and Religion by Frederick Hedge

2008-11-11T10:07:00.000-08:00

I have been reading Frederick Hedge's Reason and Religion published in the 1860's. It is fascinating, and an incredible insight into understanding faith and reason and their relationship. This chapter is called, The retreating God, and here are a few points I thought were fascinating.

"Whatever facts discovered by science of reality of god is only based on the antecedent that god already existed." (not objective) God cannot be known logically or through reason. Thus, anything using either of those two faculties will only find subjective evidence that god exists, based on the premise that god already existed.

"Science seeks to unveil god, but god will not be unveiled. He "retreats" and becomes more undiscoverable." This is because God wants to prove us by faith.

"Is he, then, more apparent, or more traceable, as agent and cause? Do we seek him, in that capacity, in the processes of nature? We find there only our own inferences, —confirmations of a preconceived idea. We see what we call design, adaptation of means to ends, which proves intelligence. But intelligence in nature is one, and the God of religion is another. It is not logic, but faith, that builds the inferential bridge between the two." Again, as above.

"Why does science seem atheistic? Because it's purpose is to find explanation that is not supernatural. We want to find a logical, intelligible solution to all things and purposes. It's not to disprove god, but to prove something rationally." I think this is a good explanation of science. Science is to prove or discover rationality. To our faculties, since God is a more supernatural way of explanation, science seeks to find rational explanation. Thus it seems atheistic.

"Divine Providence: So crucial to a good faith, also cannot be proven. Any example cannot find any reasoning to say it was rational or supernatural." A valid point.

"When the liberties of a people are assailed with unrighteous usurpation; when the union and existence of a nation are threatened by rebellious treason; when the God-defying evil-doer prospers in his wickedness, —it seems to us that a merciful and just God cannot look on, and see the mischief grow and the crime succeed, the good suffer and the righteous perish, without stretching forth the arm of his power to smite and to save. But when did Providence ever visibly respond to such demand? The interposition comes not: God hides himself when most we need and invoke his aid. "My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?" is a cry which elicits no theophany, and wrings no audible response from the heavens, —not even when uttered by the Son of man. The answer is found in the heart alone, —the trusty heart; the brave, strong heart; the deep, unfathomable heart, that flings its wondrous self into the balance, and outweighs a world of woe." I think this is a very beautiful answer to the question, why do bad things happen to good people? It is also a great response to the previous thread in my last blog on Eugenics. Two readers were discussing the importance of acknowledging we don't know everything. This is faith. This is what Mr. Hedge is referring to here, I think.

"God withdraws from the speculating intellect. He will not be laid hold of with scientific inquiry; but shut the eye of speculation, and the heart soon finds him who is personally related to every soul. Let every soul bless the never-to-be-known, —grateful, like the prophet in the rock-cleft, for even the vanishing skirts of the mystery in which the Eternal hides, reverently adoring where we cannot comprehend; content to follow where we cannot fathom; happy if we are able to walk by faith where neither man nor angel can ever walk by sight." This chapter is entitled the Retreating God, but I didn't want to post that as the title since I think many people think I'm trying to be anti religion. No, I'm posing questions and different modes of thinking to understand more. We cannot be afraid of truth wherever that is. In some ways, I think I'm afraid of faith and how more or less faith would affect my life. This blog isn't about convincing anyone of anything; it's about understanding more.

"The end of science is knowledge; that is, intellectual possession: the end of religion is worship; that is, intellectual renunciation. The aim of the one is conquest; the aim of the other is surrender. Both, in different ways, are a search after truth. But in ways how different! Science seeks with the senses, with the understanding, with computation and deduction, with analysis and hypothesis. Religion seeks with the trusting heart and devout aspiration. Science would fathom all the realms of being, would stand face to face with the final fact, and write her eureka on the core of creation. Religion is content to bow low before an Unknown, Unknowable." This is again, quite beautiful. It is hard to surrender to things one does not know. But the more research and study I've done, the more I realize there are answers that I probably will not find the way I want to.

Mein Kampf and President Kimball on eugenics

2008-11-09T15:39:00.000-08:00

I have posted some interesting quotes on racism and eugenics from Adolf Hitler's infamous book Mein Kampf as well as several various quotes from prominent LDS leaders. This same exercise was done in one of my BYU classes by a leading scholar, not to shake anyone's testimony, but to make people think about actual views and actual practices that were and are continually being done. This is mainly for you to carry your own logic through and decide truly what you believe and what certain aspects of certain religious beliefs really are saying. Eugenics by the way is the practice of propagating certain people and inhibiting the propagation of others on the basis of race, ability, disability, nationality, education, etc. In a way, birth control is a form of eugenics to some people, because you're preventing life from its natural course. America heavily practiced eugenics throughout the 20th century, sterilizing over 40,000 mentally disabled individuals. The last eugenics law in practice was revoked, but not until 1978. Aktion T4 was a German initiative that killed thousands of mentally disabled people back in 1941 based on eugenics. I would argue that we ALL practice eugenics in some form or another, since we all have screening and filtering systems for who we date based on whatever reasons. I feel that is our right, but it is a form of Eugenics. When we carry out our logic, we see from history the horrible consequences of Eugenics and what it does for inequality and genocide.

So to re-iterate, I am in no form saying that's what any organization promotes now, or what anyone's religion or political affiliation endorses now. I'm only showing you certain quotes that shows what certain people have felt in the past, and allowing you to have a better understanding of what certain people did think before. Is it the same today? I don't know.

"Any crossing of two beings not at exactly the same level produces a medium between the level of the two parents. This means: the offspring will probably stand higher than the racially lower parent, but not as high as the higher one. Consequently, it will later succumb in the struggle against the higher level. Such mating is contrary to the will of Nature for a higher breeding of all life. The precondition for this does not lie in associating superior and inferior, but in the total victory of the former. The stronger must dominate and not blend with the weaker, thus sacrificing his own greatness. Only the born weakling can view this as cruel, but he after all is only a weak and limited man; for if this law did not prevail, any conceivable higher development of organic living beings would be unthinkable.
The consequence of this racial purity, universally valid in Nature, is not only the sharp outward delimitation of the various races, but their uniform character in themselves. The fox is always a fox, the goose a goose, the tiger a tiger, etc., and the difference can lie at most in the varying measure of force, strength, intelligence, dexterity, endurance, etc., of the individual specimens. But you will never find a fox who in his inner attitude might, for example, show humanitarian tendencies toward geese, as similarly there is no cat with a friendly inclination toward mice.

Historical experience offers countless proofs of this. It shows with terrifying clarity that in every mingling of Aryan blood with that of lower peoples the result was the end of the cultured people. North America, whose population consists in by far the largest part of Germanic elements who mixed but little with the lower colored peoples, shows a different humanity and culture from Central and South America, where the predominantly Latin immigrants often mixed with the aborigines on a large scale. By this one example, we can clearly and distinctly recognize the effect of racial mixture. The Germanic inhabitant of the American continent, who has remained racially pure and unmixed, rose to be master of the continent; he will remain the master as long as he does not fall a victim to defilement of the blood." Adolf Hitler Mein Kampf

The reason that one would lose his blessings by marrying a Negro is due to the restriction placed upon them. "No person having the least particle of Negro blood can hold the Priesthood" (Brigham Young). It does not matter if they are one-sixth Negro or one-hundred and sixth, the curse of no Priesthood is the same. If an individual who is entitled to the Priesthood marries a Negro, the Lord has decreed that only spirits who are not eligible for the Priesthood will come to that marriage as children. To intermarry with a Negro is to forfeit a "Nation of Priesthood holders".... Mark E. peterson BYU August 1954

Now let's talk about segregation again for a few moments. Was segregation a wrong principle? When the Lord chose the nations to which the spirits were to come, determining that some would be Japanese and some would be Chinese and some Negroes and some Americans, He engaged in an act of segregation....

When he told Enoch not preach the gospel to the descendants of Cain who were black, the Lord engaged in segregation. When He cursed the descendants of Cain as to the Priesthood, He engaged in segregation....

Who placed the Negroes originally in darkest Africa? Was it some man, or was it God? And when He placed them there, He segregated them....Mark E. Peterson BYU August 1954

In a broad general sense, caste systems have their root and origin in the gospel itself, and when they operate according to the divine decree, the resultant restrictions and segregation are right and proper and have the approval of the Lord. To illustrate: Cain, Ham, and the whole Negro race have been cursed with a black skin, the mark of Cain, so they can be identified as a caste apart, a people with whom the other descendants of Adam should not intermarry. (Gen. 4; Moses 5.) The whole house of Israel was chosen as a peculiar people, one set apart from all other nations (Ex. 19:5-6; Deut. 7:6; 14:2); and they were forbidden to marry outside their own caste. (Ex. 34:10-17; Deut. 7:1-5.) In effect the Lamanites belonged to one caste and the Nephites to another, and a mark was put upon the Lamanites to keep the Nephites from intermixing with and marrying them. (Alma 3:6-11.) All this is not to say that any race, creed, or caste should be denied any inalienable rights. But it is to say that Deity in his infinite wisdom, to carry out his inscrutable purposes, has a caste system of his own, a system of segregation of races and peoples. The justice of such a system is evident when life is considered in its true eternal perspective. It is only by a knowledge of pre-existence that it can be known why some persons are born in one race or caste and some in another. "However, in a broad general sense, caste systems have their origin in the gospel itself, and when they operate according to the divine decree, the resultant restrictions and segregation are right and proper and have the approval of the lord." Bruce R. McConkie Mormon Doctrine p 114 (It was taken out later I believe)

I didn't realize this, but the actual doctrine of our church before was that blacks could not only not hold the priesthood, they didn't have the full blessings of the gospel i.e. they couldn't go to the temple or receive the Celestial Kingdom.

I saw a striking contrast in the progress of the Indian people today.... The day of the Lamanites is nigh. For years they have been growing delightsome, and they are now becoming white and delightsome, as they were promised. In this picture of the twenty Lamanite missionaries, fifteen of the twenty were as light as Anglos, five were darker but equally delightsome The children in the home placement program in Utah are often lighter than their brothers and sisters in the hogans on the reservation.

At one meeting a father and mother and their sixteen-year-old daughter were present, the little member girl--sixteen--sitting between the dark father and mother, and it was evident she was several shades lighter than her parents--on the same reservation, in the same hogan, subject to the same sun and wind and weather....These young members of the Church are changing to whiteness and to delightsomeness. One white elder jokingly said that he and his companion were donating blood regularly to the hospital in the hope that the process might be accelerated." Spencer W. Kimball Improvement Era1960

"Now, the brethren feel that it is not the wisest thing to cross racial lines in dating and marrying. There is no condemnation. We have had some of our fine young people who have crossed the lines. We hope they will be very happy, but experience of the brethren through a hundred years has proved to us that marriage is a very difficult thing under any circumstances and the difficulty increases in interrace marriages" (Brigham Young University Devotional on 5 January 1965)

"When I said you must teach your people to overcome their prejudices and accept the Indians, I did not mean that you would encourage intermarriage. I mean that they should be brothers, to worship together and to work together and to play together; but we must discourage intermarriage, not because it is sin. I would like to make this very emphatic. A couple has not committed sin if an Indian boy and a white girl are married, or vice versa. It isn't a transgression like the transgressions of which many are guilty. But it is not expedient. Marriage statistics and our general experience convince us that marriage is not easy. It is difficult when all factors are favorable. The divorces increase constantly, even where the spouses have the same general background of race, religion, finances, education, and otherwise. (58-08)" (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, p.302)

"The interrace marriage problem is not one of inferiority or superiority. It may be that your son is better educated and may be superior in his culture, and yet it may be on the other hand that she is superior to him. It is a matter of backgrounds. The difficulties and hazards of marriage are greatly increased where backgrounds are different. For a wealthy person to marry a pauper promises difficulties. For an ignoramus to marry one with a doctor's degree promises difficulties, heartaches, misunderstandings, and broken marriages.

When one considers marriage, it should be an unselfish thing, but there is not much selflessness when two people of different races plan marriage. They must be thinking selfishly of themselves. They certainly are not considering the problems that will beset each other and that will beset their children.

If your son thinks he loves this girl, he would not want to inflict upon her loneliness and unhappiness; and if he thinks that his affection for her will solve all her problems, he should do some more mature thinking.

We are unanimous, all of the Brethren, in feeling and recommending that Indians marry Indians, and Mexicans marry Mexicans; the Chinese marry Chinese and the Japanese marry Japanese; that the Caucasians marry the Caucasians, and the Arabs marry Arabs."(0/0/59) (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, p.303)

"There were no neutrals in the war in heaven. All took sides either with Christ or with Satan. Every man had his agency there, and men receive rewards here based upon their actions there, just as they will receive rewards hereafter for deeds done in the body. The Negro, evidently, is receiving the reward he merits.
There is a reason why one man is born black and with other disadvantages, while another is born white with great advantages. The reason is that we once had an estate before we came here, and were obedient, more or less, to the laws that were given us there. Those who were faithful in all things there received greater blessings here, and those who were not faithful received less." Joseph Fielding Smith, Doctrines of Salvation by Bruce R. McConkie

So, do you feel you practice Eugenics? Do you feel religion promotes Eugenics? Again, please don't construe the use of these quotes to be in an effort to degrade any leader (with the exception of Adolf Hitler) or religious organization. But most people don't research or realize the opinions of older church leaders.

Little Children

2008-11-06T23:38:00.000-08:00

I understand why this film was nominated for three academy awards. As I've watched more and more highly acclaimed films, I've realized that sometimes a story is difficult to tell, but its telling only invigorates the reader, and its message transcends entertainment and achieves the sublime.

I say sublime because from a distance the horror of what the characters go through is palpable, but their drudgery causes some kind of admiration and respect. It may even be that we somehow relate to their experience. Or maybe it's that we pray we never do.

Little Children brings together a sexual deviant, a depressed stay at home husband, and a modern Madam Bovary who happens to have an English PhD. Brad lives under the quiet condescension of his wife while preparing to take the BAR exam for a third time. Sarah's husband couldn't care less about her, and she feels trapped with her daughter and a dead end life. The neighborhood is enthralled with its new target: Ronnie, a sexual predator who was just released from jail. Somehow their lives intertwine. Sarah and Brad begin regularly attending the pool, seemingly for their children. They begin a passionate affair as they start secretly living out a dream escape. Can they trick themselves into believing so strongly that dream that they give up everything else?

The movie really weaves itself around playgrounds and swimming pools and strollers, but it's about the little children we all are. Children can't face the truth about themselves and their situations. They are innocent in a way, and totally ignorant in another. Eventually children must grow up. We understand maturity to take place during teenage years, but maybe for some of us it takes place much later. It isn't the passage of time, but certain events and more importantly certain decisions that cause us to grow up.

In one scene, Sarah attends a book club with her neighbor on the classic Madame Bovary. They discuss the protagonist's lavish and lascivious lifestyle. Sarah pontificates about how Madame Bovary is a feminist hero, not because she was sleeping around, but because she wouldn't accept her fate of living in a box. She saw herself as Madame Bovary, and though it was true to admire those who don't accept their fate, maybe she was deluding herself into thinking she could do the same thing and get away with it.

Ronnie's mom told her son that each person has a fatal flaw that keeps them from getting what they want. It was obvious what Ronnie's was, but he didn't care to address it until it was too late. A wise friend of mine once said, "Once they realize the reward is greater than the cost, then they'll pay." Most of the time, it ends up being too late that we make the changes we need to.

At the end of the movie, Brad tries to jump a concrete staircase on a skateboard. He had watched with envy while the punk kids had rode around the skate park for an entire summer, and wished he was young again. Then he suddenly got his chance. Only he ended up with a concussion and a trip to the hospital. Thankfully he woke up, and realized he wasn't 18 anymore. When you see the movie, you'll see what a childish decision he was about to make, but realized how foolish it would have been.

What I enjoyed about this movie, although quite dark and dealing with some material we would normally avoid, was the hope it gives all of us. Little Children make mistakes, and I think that's what Director Todd Field was trying to say. All of the characters were little children, and when kids make mistakes, they are forgiven. They try again.

If you enjoyed my review, you'd probably enjoy my roommates bitchin blog, found here

meme (pronounced MEEM)

2008-11-04T23:53:00.001-08:00

I don't do Meme's. But I will this one time. Good movies in alphabetical order:

Appaloosa (also Amen)
Batman Begins (Also Braveheart) (Also Batman: The Dark Knight) (Also The Bank Job) (Also Beautiful Mind) (Also Blood Diamond)
Counte of Monte Cristo (Also Counterfeiters)
Definitely Maybe (Also Dan in Real Life) (Also the Departed)
Eastern Promises
Forgetting Sarah Marshall (Also Fight Club) (Also 40 Year old Virgin)
Good Will Hunting
Heat
In Bruge
Jacket, The
King Arthur (Also Kiss Kiss Bang Bang)
Lost in Translation (Also Lord of the Rings 1 and 2)
Matrix One
No Country for Old Men
Oceans 11
Pulp Fiction (Also Prestige)
Q, John
Robin Hood (Also Requiem for a Dream) (Also Running Scared) (Also Rambo First Blood) (Also Rocky 1-4)
Sixth Sense (Also Swingers) (Also Superbad) (Also Seven)
Truman Show (Also Three Hundred, 300) (Also Troy) (Also Tommy Boy)
Untouchables
V for Vendetta
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (first one)
Xorcist (okay, but whatever)
Young Guns
Zoolander

I hereby tag Darren, Cylee, Cassie, Shanna, Kate, Marianne, and Paul to do this. Do it. Do it now.

Tannhauser by Wagner and how it's Romantic

2008-10-31T01:38:00.000-07:00

Wagner may have many masterpieces, but it’s hard to imagine one more powerful than Tannhauser. Several Romantic elements can be elucidated from the opera, and many of them are still contemporary motifs and themes used by modern movies and music today. I’ll discuss a few of them here.
The main plot line revolves around Tannhauser and the different manifestations love. The play begins with a ballet, but really it was more of an artistic orgy. Tannhauser is held captive by Venus, the goddess of love. At first Tannhauser desired her more than anything, and fell from grace in order to win her love. He sings with his harp to her that he must leave and return to his previous life, return to Mary the mother of God. His playing is simple, and his melody is original. This is the same style Romantic musicians presented their work, as opposed to the loud, complex scores by orchestras and choirs.
Tannhauser eventually makes it back to the Wartburg where his true love Elizabeth is. The power of love and the power of women were both strong elements of Romanticism. At the banquet, when Tannhauser reveals his sins, Elizabeth alone has the power to save him, and all in attendance give abeyance to her wishes. Tannhauser reveals that he is a man who has followed his passions and emotions without discipline. Again the opera reveals (actually throughout the entirety) two Romantic elements, namely a great emphasis on emotion and feeling and its expression, and religious piety and worship. Where the Enlightenment emphasized Reason as a way to re-interpret miracles and stories of religion, Romantic thinkers began to emphasize the influence and priority of emotion. This can be evidenced by the recurring message of God and repentance for sin. When Tannhauser first returns from the forest, he is passed by a traveling group of monks and worshipers on their way to Rome to worship. They solemnly sing their praise to god, continually asking for forgiveness for their sin. They express guilt and sorrow, two strong emotions that drive them. It isn’t their reason that moves them towards penitence, but it is their emotions. This is definitely Romantic.
Tannhauser begins his journey, and eventually finds Wolfram. He explains that he couldn’t obtain forgiveness since the Pope wouldn’t grant absolution. The Pope said it would be easier for him to obtain forgiveness than for his staff to sprout leaves. Tannhauser then proceeds back to reunite with Venus, but suddenly discovers a funeral procession for Elizabeth who died of a broken heart. This could be viewed as a fragment, another Romantic motif. The fragment can be a ruin, a letter, a death, an earthquake, a poem, or a word. Each is a way to represent a greater whole, yet only a part remains. That part causes certain emotions in the viewer, reader, or listener. The fragment represents what was lost, what is in store, or some emblem that must be reciprocated. In this case, Elizabeth’s death fractured Tannheuser’s love, and separated the two forever. Tannhauser could only imagine what the completed union would have been. News spreads that the Pope’s staff sprouted leaves, and Tannhauser gains forgiveness of his sins.
This Opera was incredible. Wagner himself described Opera as the greatest artistic achievement of man. Tannhauser was another convincing argument to persuade me to this opinion.

great videos

2008-10-29T14:53:00.000-07:00

Don't go past 2:12 if you don't like crude jokes on the first one. Before then it's totally safe. So so funny. The second video is top notch, totally fine to watch the whole thing. Third is even better.

Liberal Arts Education: To self-Mastery or self-indulgence?

2008-10-28T17:17:00.001-07:00

"One of the greatest symposiums this year." Ben magazine

"By far a stimulating and enlightening experience. Professor George definitely shows he is a powerhouse in asking questions we always asked ourselves, but coming up with different answers." Journal of Ben's Discourses

Okay, so that was to get you to read this, hopefully these blurbs of well-published academic magazines did their jobs. What is the Liberal Arts Education intended to do?

One view of the LAE is to free the student from traditional social constraints and morals. It calls the old structures irrational, and deconstructs ancient, classical texts, calling some of them propaganda. Texts can be re-appropriated to subvert initial racist and sexist meanings. The question then, is what is the self to which being authentic should be true? The answer, in one view, we'll call view A, is our desires, or natural inclinations. Accordingly, whatever impedes our desires is a mere hangup. Prof. George used his own university, Princeton University, as an example of how this is the prevailing view. There, compulsory Freshman academies require students to "sexual awakenings" if you will. Specifically, Princeton puts on a two hour play that delves into the sexual promiscuity that pervades our society, in an effort to promote it as breaking down the old traditions of religion and ethics.

This is one view.

The other in some ways is similar. This view is also a liberating one. The LAE is to free the student, but not to act on his desires. It is to LIBERATE US FROM THE SLAVERY TO OUR DESIRES. It promotes self-mastery, self control. This is done through the ability to reason. Reason is put at the helm, and our desires, though important, act inferior to our reasoning. Dr. George called it, a "well-ordered soul, where we have passions and appetites, but they are under the control of reason."

"When reason is inferior to passion, reason will generate rationalizations for our behavior." Isn't this a little gem of a statement, folks? Sometimes, we convince ourselves that our desires and passions are justified, and then we try to argue our point because that's what we want. THIS IS NOT REASON. This is rationalization, or justification for things we DON'T know to be true.

So, from this view, what is the good we get from a LAE? How does the LAE give us this reasoning ability, and this self-mastery?

Followers of the first view, such as Rousseau and David Hume, would argue that there is no soul. That true freedom of the will then becomes only in the fulfillment of the desires of the self. There is no rationalization, only release from bonds that previously barred us from what we truly want. "Reason is the slave to passions" as David Hume said.

Plato and Socrates were of the second school of thought. They were deeply concerned with the soul! We must have a soul, they argued, in order for reason to be able to domainate our passions.

The LAE helps us understand virtues. It helps us understand the great thinkers of civilization as they asked these questions. We don't just read books with a LAE, we ENGAGE the thinkers and the ideas themselves. We argue and ponder both sides, in an effort to come to our own, distinct conclusion. Then, once we have decided the best way to act, we can discipline ourselves and our passions to become subservient to those virtues. This is how the LAE gives self-mastery.

Really, it's about changing or not changing ourselves based on reasoning, and we obtain the ideas from our study of the classics in all disciplines.

An important clarification, is that reasoning involves argument for and against ideas, but it also involves eventually settling on one side, the side one reasons to be correct. Otherwise, the study of truth is antithetical.

One student asked, how do we know what is virtuous? There are two ways. Religious people believe God directly reveals what is virtuous. Another way is through reason: that natural law is accessible through reason, and that certain ideas and virtues are ends in themsleves. In other words, they are self-justifying.

This was such a great lecture, and I think it is some of the soundest reasoning I've heard. Let us all continue to become more disciplined.

Jakob the Liar

2008-10-26T21:36:00.000-07:00

Can black comedy portray the holocaust?

I say it can. I think comedy and humor are a part of life as much as death and fear, and using humor in a film doesn't take away from the gravity of its subject matter, but can be used to evoke emotion and power.

That said, I do feel that Jakob the Liar didn't just use black comedy in its portrayal of the story, but also was somewhat racist in its portrayal of Jews. This I don't feel is acceptable.

At several points in the movie, stereotypical Jewish music is played while certain characters are sneaking around the ghetto. I feel that this plays right into the cunning and shady image Jews were being portrayed as during the 1930's and 1940's and before. When Jakob is away, Frankfurter and company sneak into his house and try to find the purported radio. They tiptoe through the house while the music plays, and it really gave me a feeling of a pack of blundering thieves wandering around the house, not smart enough to pull off a good heist. I don't know if this is what the director Peter Kassovitz was going for, but this is what I got.

Also, I felt the happy ending was SO contrived and un-fitting. The holocaust is about injustice, terror, death, and despair. That was the reality. There were very few happy endings. I feel like the honor Jakob had in dying with such dignity was lost when somehow the Jewish transport ran into the Russian soldiers who liberated them. Really, the movie had been driving towards the final decision of Jakob: would he reveal his lie or would he not? The lie was what everyone had relied upon throughout the movie. Jakob had given them hope. Would he crush that hope with his revelation, or would he prolong it? It doesn't matter because of the ending. Kassovitz really pussied out when he ended the movie on such a happy note.

Olympia (1938) by Leni Riefenstahl

2008-10-25T20:52:00.000-07:00

This film documents the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, then under Nazi rule. My first impressions were of shock: the opening sequence has several nude women dancing around, and then half-naked men running along the beach. Eventually, we see runners carrying a torch through the night, and then the night turns to day, and the runners finally take the torch to the stadium. This torch run, which today we see as an ancient tradition, actually began during the German Olympics under the direction of Joseph Goebbels, the minister of Propaganda for the Reich. We continue the tradition to this day. The fire actually represents the fire stolen from Zeus by Prometheus, who was also a character of the Enlightenment and electricity.

I've been to the Olympic stadium in Berlin, and it was surreal almost to see the olympic rings at the top of the two pillars, the great bell with the Nazi eagle, the field, all where the olympics took place so many years ago. Then to see footage of the events truly made a surreal experience.

I felt the bell was a way to represent Germany calling all of the countries together, much like a church bell calls its members together for mass. Being labeled with an eagle, it was to signify the control and power of the Reich, to which all others would obey. Whether or not Riefenstahl meant the film as propaganda is happenstance. It was a political film hands down.

There was a lot of focus on the German athletes throughout the film. German dominance in sports reflects the Reich's emphasis on physical training throughout the country. The German people were strong, and it was important to show this in the film.

Some controversy surrounded Jesse Owens, as he won three gold medals as a black man. He commented however that Hitler didn't snub him, but FDR actually did.

Pre-war Germany 1933-1938

2008-10-24T18:23:00.000-07:00

Winston Churchill said in 1938, "We need more Hitlers in Europe!" This comes as quite a shock to most people reading this, as it did to me. This is because we look at history too anachronistically, and see things before they happened and imbue causes and reasons before they actually came into play. Before 1939, Germany didn't know it would extinguish millions of people in the coming six years. With the entrance of Hitler to power in 1933, Germany actually began a strong trend upwards. If we were to splice Germany out of time between 1933 and 1938, we would extrapolate much differently about its future.

Quickly, I wanted to look at how Hitler masterfully came to become the most powerful man in Germany. The NSDAP, or national Social Workers' party, started in 1919, was almost voted out of existence during the relative stability of the Weimar Republic through 1924. One of the flaws of the Weimar Republic's constitution was its protection of rights to any political body, however small. This was where the Nazi party stayed alive in the government. IF there was some threshold to surpass to gain seats, then the Nazi party would have been voted out of existence. That wasn't the case, and the NSDAP hung around.
1929 saw the stock market crash, and a horrific super-inflation of the German Mark.
Since the Weimar was based on a multi-party system, only a majority was needed to obtain power in the government. By then, the Nazis had gone through their "years in the wilderness", and were now experiencing popularity among the people. Radical voting always takes place when needs are dire, and the economy was in dire straits. Feeling that Hitler could be passified and controlled, the Catholic-Democratic party decided to align with the Nazis. This gave them the majority, and they took power in 1933. Von Hindenberg, the then President of Germany, was persuaded to appoint Hitler as Chancellor on the 30 January.

27th February: Reichstag fire
28th February: the government, including the social left, give all power to the Right.
23 March: The enabling act allows Hitler full control of the entire country, with nobody to answer to. Thus, the Weimar Republic had voted itself out of existence.
14 July: Germany becomes a 1 party state
30 November: Gestapo created

1934:
30 June: Night of long knives: SA purged (The SA were the storm troops, or people Hitler used to begin with to get into power. They were made up of the poorer classes, and were more easily persuaded to action and violence. Hitler, now in power, didn't need them, and purged the organization).
2 August: Hindenburg dies, Hitler becomes President
19 August: Hitler proclaims himself Fuhrer and Chancellor

Hitler wins over the army, the bureacracy, and big business, as well as consolidates his party. The army takes an oath to him, and in Europe, ones word means more than it does in America. He promises big business no nationalism of industries, and is able to get them in his pocket. With the bureaucracy, he offers rewards, and places people in power that he wants. The professional civil service act removed Jews from office and allowed Nazis to be put in their place. He began making Germany into an Autarky.

Many changes were being made for a better Germany. German youth were taught Aryan superiority, German history and biology. There was a new emphasis on sports, since Hitler wanted a strong people. He told the youth, "Make yourselves hard."
There was investments to building the first highways or autobon, new factories, and with those changes unemployment plummeted almost to the point of negligence by the end of the decade. Inner-country tourism was promoted, and pride was portrayed for the country. People were taught to work hard, and new food plans were put in place to keep people healthy. There was a strong emphasis on the family, and the traditional views of women as the homemaker and mother and the father as the bread winner. Hitler saw success, after success, after success in his country.

The people were happy, too. They were taught modesty and thrift. They listened to popular tunes of their day, went dancing, and enjoyed life like any other people. They developed the first television programs on cooking and gardening. Population began to increase, since the economy was so good, and Germany even hosted the olympics in 1936.

Someone said that once the puzzle is discovered, it's always easy to say, "I could've done that". I think the same principle is applied to history: once it's occurred, we try to show teliologically how it happened. Sometimes, though, it's not that easy. I think once we consider how much good Hitler and the Nazis did for Germany, we begin to understand why the German people trusted him so much, and we see how he actually came to power.

hello all: a disclaimer

2008-10-23T22:58:00.000-07:00

Hello readers of my blog. I've had a few blogs on automatic post lately, and so they haven't been up to standard, so I'll edit them and get them back.

I do post some controversial things, and maybe even radical ideas and opinions. Nothing is meant to offend, but to stir people to discussion. Sometimes I feel strongly about something, and I'll blog about it, but then realize I should temper my blog a little more as it comes off even more radical than I mean it to.

Hopefully this doesn't deter you from commenting and sharing your opinion. I never claim to be right, I only share one viewpoint and hope you will share yours.

Ben

How do we distinguish the hand of God in History?

2008-10-21T16:39:00.000-07:00

Dr. Kerry precipitated a great internal debate in me, as well as others, in class recently. One student commented about how he wished more professors would talk about how God's hand was involved in history to bring certain things to pass. Usually we talk about God's hand in the founding of our country. But was God's hand in the French Revolution, where thousands of people were executed systematically? That's where all of the democratic ideals of our country come from. Was it God who led the framers of the constitution to say that 3/5 of a black counted as a person during the 18th and 19th centuries? If god promised the Jews Israel, did He instigate World War I and II to bring the Jewish question to a head so the country could be formed by 1948?

That has always frustrated me about those who say God is over everything. Does god blatantly kill people to bring other things to pass? Even the Book of Mormon says states that yes, that is possible, with the Alma and Amulek watching people burn so condemnation can be brought upon the perpetrator's heads. That, to me, is a pretty weak doctrine, and doesn't say much for a merciful god.

Many people look more at the microcosm to consider how God deals with them. Did I get the job? Way to go, God. Did I get the wife? Thanks a million, God. Thanks for bringing that to pass.

Did I get cancer? Did my child just die from a freak car accident? God certainly didn't cause those things, did he?

I think we all need to carry out the logic of our thinking a little bit. Either god meddles in everything, and therefore causes both good and bad, or he doesn't meddle at all, and everything happens in its due course independent of God. Otherwise, we have just described Zeus, who plays with people like they were chess pieces.

I've found it funny at times to see how I, and others, will swing as a pendulum from the side that believes, "Ask and ye shall receive" to the other side that says, "most everything is up to us." If God's hand is in everything, then let's thank him for the miracles as well as the genocides. If it's not, then why not take a little pride in our own handiwork instead of giving glory to someone else.

Let us reason one with another and discuss this more.

Injustice

2008-10-20T16:04:00.000-07:00

I have always abhorred what I feel to be injustice. I've never encountered more injustice than good old Provo, Utah. A few examples to set the stage of my blog: the housing situation, almost theocratic, since the papal cardinals we call landlords have but to kiss the hand that feeds them and I have a hold on my academic record. Should such vastly different vignettes of a student's life have such relation to one another? More importantly, the student loses their right to speech and representation, as I sadly learned from BYU Mediations and BYU Housing departments, who sound sympathetic, but in the end always side with the landlords.

Also, I just found out that I received no back end from my summer work. We all know I hated working this summer. I definitely didn't work full time. However, I spoke with the manager about working part time and acknowledging I was taking classes and work wasn't going to be my priority. But I did make several sales, even to the very end of the season. I was never warned or fired, vocally or with written notice, yet I was issued no back end check. The company is Pointe Pest Control, and I would definitely give a thumbs down recommendation for the company and its policies.

I could go on. What with the Provo City Vulture/Police department, blackboard quizzes, the disappearance of all things quiet and peaceful in this town, etc. etc. The point is: What is injustice? What is justice? Why do I feel, maybe you too, so hurt and upset when certain things befall us in life?

Here is reality: There are no guarantees made to anyone. Not by the universe. In fact, it is the universe that promises injustice. Two realities that we are given are that we were born, and that we will die. Most likely, we will die at an inconvenient time and place. People get cancer, fall off cliffs, and plummet to the earth in plane crashes and are cut short of life. But were they really cut short? Because for a life to be cut short, there has to be some term of expectation, and the expectation comes from somewhere. Otherwise, life is just life. You were born, and you died, and all is well.

So if the universe doesn't promise us justice, then who does? There are certain schemas presented to us by government and religion. Here is where we get the idea of justice and injustice. The problem is that these institutions teach us ideals: principles that are pleasing to look at and sound pleasant, but aren't practiced by everyone. Unfortunately, since they are so appealing, we grasp at them, hoping to hold onto them as some shield against the woes of nature.

What people's actions teach me, that is what I should expect. People have taught me that money rules all. That power is derived from money, and everyone else is subjugated because of it. As our economy and society, especially Utah culture and society, is geared to making money and gaining wealth, then really that is what I, and all of us, should come to expect from life. Other people will try to take my money unfairly to make money for themselves. I have no reason to feel abused or mistreated, because my idea of justice was based on utopian ideals which have never been evidenced by nature or the universe.

As a side note, I feel I have been quite lucky to have been surrounded by so many good and wise people who are not like what I describe here. In my circle of acquaintances, you make up an abundant majority of selflessness and integrity. On a grander scale, I view you as a small minority in the clammy embrace of a money and power loving monster we call Provo.

So, what is to be done? Do we continue to let the cognitive dissonance between faulty ideals and reality cause us stress and anxiety? Or do we accept the Nietschean philosophy, that strong rules the weak, and those that can have the power should take it? Anyone who gets anywhere in life seems to do just that. Since, once you're on top, you get to make the decisions. That's the point where everything fits your ideals and becomes fair, at least to you.

Some old photos

2008-10-14T00:18:00.000-07:00

Just looking through my old yearbook. Check out some of the photos.

Candide by Voltaire

2008-10-10T18:00:00.000-07:00

Candide (Optimism) is a satirical novel about a young man trying to find his love and stay alive in the world. Written between 1757 and 1759, Voltaire used the story to bring to light his own jaded views of religion, human nature, and the works of Leibniz and Wolff.
Candide, a young nephew of Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh, educated by his philosopher-teacher Pangloss, falls in love with his cousin Cunegonde. The story documents many terrible events, including him being forcibly enlisted into Bulgarian military service, beaten, surviving an earthquake in Lisbon, seeing his teacher Pangloss (now with syphilis) hanged, discovering his beloved Cunegonde killed and her castle destroyed, discovering Eldorado where diamonds are dirt on the ground, thieved by a shady captain, escaping the catholic inquisition, rediscovering that Cunegonde is, in fact, alive (although she was raped and cut open), killing Cunegonde’s brother who still forbids him to marry Cunegonde due to Candide’s illegitimate birth, betraying Cunegonde by having an affair, imprisoned, freeing Cunegonde, Cacambo (a traveler who went before Candide to the New World), and Cunegonde’s brother who are all still alive but enslaved, and finally living out his life on a farm.

Several Enlightenment themes abound in the story. When Pangloss was hanged during the Inquisition due to the belief that wickedness and sorcery caused the earthquake, the reader sees how governments that punish those not of its prescribed belief system is absurd. When Candide was thrown out of the castle and prevented from marrying Cunegonde, it was because of his illegitimate blood, a ridiculous reason to prevent two human beings from being together, who according to God and nature, are equal. When Candide discovers wealth at Eldorado, he is deliberately and frequently taken advantage of by almost everyone he comes in contact with, illustrating greed and deceit, the opposites of Enlightened principles of moderation and justice.

The one Coke to rule them all

2008-10-10T01:23:00.000-07:00

If King Midas had somehow given his gift to my esophagus, then the coke I drank was equivalent to gold down my parched throat. I had flashbacks of Daniel Day Lewis from There Will be Blood, screaming as an oil well is exploding in back of him, raining down that most delicious drink: Oil. Yes ladies and gentlemen, The oil rained down like soft, refreshing Coca-Cola drizzled down my endothial Andes waterfall. So good I could not break my lips from the plastic rim. Red hugh reflected round the plastic greek pillar, ripped from the parthenon on my coffee table, with cardboard and marble for walls, and books for the philosophers. IF I ever had a prophecy, if it felt like a taste, you know, like salt or sweet or umami, if there was one called prophecy, that's what this coke tasted like. To me it was the spongy flesh torn from the inside of a cactus, when you've been in the Mohave desert too many, oh so too many days. This coke was a coke to rule them. One coke to rule them all. I drank, the wet nectar in my cheeks which were feying some hint at a smile. I drank deeply from the gentle stream again, and again, but still I longed for more and more. The feeling inside was cool, a brisk trickle down the rain pipe, watering the bonsai below. Peace enveloped me, a temporal solace in my existential journey. Pauses spliced in between my life, as it'were. And they were short the splices were.

Electricity and the Enlightenment

2008-10-09T17:00:00.000-07:00

Electricity is not only a great microcosm for demonstrating larger Enlightenment movements, but it also was the central scientific advancement of the period. In fact, many literary puns playing on the symbolism of reason and discovery were used in connection with electricity.

Beyond light-hearted literary exchange, Electricity demonstrates several important Enlightenment realms. First, electricity and its advances were the cumulative efforts of many peoples in several countries working solely with empirical experimentation and visual, tangible evidence, such as Patton, Franklin, Descartes, etc, as opposed to the more theoretical book knowledge. David Hume even condoned burning books without empirical studies:

If we take in our hand any volume of divinity or school metaphysics, for instance, let us ask, does it contain any abstract reasoning concerning quantity or number? No. Does it contain any experimental reasoning concerning matters of fact and existence? No. Commit it then to the flames; for it can contain nothing but sophistry and illusion.

Second, according to Patricia Fara, the Enlightenment was not a time for each countries’ natural philosophers to come together into one harmonious blend of thought. Instead, it was a gulf of several currents, sometimes converging, sometimes clashing together.

Third, electricity was an obvious check on religion’s powerful hold on society. It demonstrated through Franklin’s lightning rod (not without a fight) that man was beginning to demonstrate control over nature, or at least over what once was termed “God’s wrath”.

Fourth, electricity was a demonstration of the blending of class lines. Benjamin Franklin, renowned for many successes, one of which was his discoveries in electricity, began his life as a working class printer, rose in prestige, knowledge, and wealth, and demonstrated that not just the aristocrats and professors could contribute to their country. Fara also shows Franklin as a political champion, overturning established governments and tyrants, and compares him to Prometheus, who stole fire from Zeus’ heaven.

The Sunflower by Simon Wiesenthal

2008-10-08T18:00:00.000-07:00

In the Sunflower, Wiesenthal recounts his experience in a Polish Nazi Concentration Camp where a dying SS guard asks him forgiveness for an atrocity he committed. The event encapsulates what becomes Wiesenthal's theme the rest of his life: Justice.

I thought this book was about forgiveness. The reader is affronted heavily throughout the book with the question, "should Wiesenthal forgive the SS guard?" "Is it right for someone to forgive something that wasn't committed against him?" "Is deathbed repentance truly atoning for the sins committed?" Really, Weisenthal was more concerned with what is just. Would it have been justice to the Jew for forgiveness to be relinquished by Wienthal? When a debt is a life, can it be repaid, and by forgiving the transgressor is one not just committing another atrocity against the victim party?

Wiesenthal uses the sunflower as a symbol of the injustice. He describes the sunflower throughout the book. First encountering it on a sojourn out of the camp to a hospital for the day's work, the party stops to look out over a German army cemetary. Each gravesite has as its companion a sunflower. "Suddenly, I envied the dead soldiers. Each had a sunflower to connect him with the living world, and butterflies to visit his grave. For me there would be no sunflower. I would be buried in a mass grave, where corpses would be piled on top of me. No sunflower would ever bring light into my darkness, and no butterflies would dance above my dreadful tomb." the sunflower represented, even in death, the injustice between the Jew and the German. From birth until death, the Jew was stereotyped, shunned, and ridiculed. Hitler Youth would beat them with razor-laden sticks. Neighbors would hold protests at local businesses and usurp their work positions. Students prevented them from taking their finals and progressing in school. Then they were eventually sent to camps and worked to death or slaughtered. And, finally, in death, they received no flower as for their epitaph.

The dilemma is razored to a fine edge with the SS soldier's plea. The injustice is as thick and heavy as the death chamber's air.

The question plagues Wiesenthal the rest of his life. He goes on to become a "Nazi Hunter", and helps to track down perpetrators to be tried for war crimes, thus living out his lifelong search to find justice in an injust world.

If you were in his place to forgive the soldier, what would you have done?

Politic

2008-10-07T23:46:00.000-07:00

Cindy inspired me with another political blog.

Change we can count on!
Whose the fairest of them all?
Mcain is...Maverick???

skates, hockey practice
Yep! SHe's a genuine mom!
Please, god help us all.

Here are ways I propose the new president should be decided. Cheaper, more efficient, and tax free.

1. cage match
2. Arm wrestling
3. Dual (win win, because one of them dies).
4. Hold your breath contest
5. Who is the blackest of them all? Obama if we go by skin, Mccain if we go by internal organs.
6. Who gives me the biggest gift.
7. Who has the geekiest, gayest, most self-absorbed commercials (The original maverick by a landslide).
8. Whichever candidate's vice-president can name the capitals of all the states.
9. coin toss
10. Texas Holdem. Winner take all. This may be the most difficult, as I think both are quite skilled in bluffing.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Luther

2008-10-07T18:00:00.000-07:00

Most know about the 95 theses Luther drove into the cathedral door, condemning indulgences and other false practices of the catholic church in 1517. Others know that he brought about the German bible from the Latin Vulgate, spawning the reformation movement, which gave rise to 570 million followers today. But as if the German princes and Luther himself knew that a film would be made to sensationalize their works, they scripted a scene with dialogue so perfect it can't be told any other way.
About to be condemned to the inquisition for heresy against the church, the princes and cardinals gather to request a single answer from Luther as to his works. Unsatisifed by his reasonable replies, they ask for a single yes or no. He obliges. Usage, right and observance, says the cardinal, have proven the doctrines of the Pope. You wait in vain for a disputation for things you are obligated to believe!

"Only let my errors be proven by scripture, and I will recant my works and they will be thrown into the fire."

"Unless I am convinced by scripture and by plain reason, and not by the Popes and counsels that have so often contradicted themselves, my conscience is captive to the word of god, to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. I cannot, and I will not, recant.

"Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me." And so He did. From that moment, there was a rupture in all of christendom. It shook the foundation of Rome, schismed Europe, and left millions of free-thinking christians in its wake.

Can you say, Enlightenment?

All serious joking aside, let's take a look at how this reflects Enlightenment principles. In the own words of the Cardinal, the doctrines practiced by the Catholic church at the time of Martin Luther were, in fact, not scripturally based, but induced by the Pope to fund buildings and colorful robes. Instead of ingesting the distasteful bolus, Luther (thanks to being in the right German school with the right bowl/bald haircut) decides to cook up doctrines according to the recipes he finds directly from the New Testament. That's when he discovers Rome definitely changed the ingredients. So he wants to debate the doctrines and reform the church. He takes laws (scripture) that he believes to be true, and wants to discuss them, and come to his own conclusions. He is, in the words of the actor playing prince Fredrick, an "independent minded little monk." He thinks for himself. Wasn't it Kant who said, "Man's release from his self-incurred tutelage"?

THe Catholic church didn't want just luther to hush up, they didn't want ANYBODY to think for themselves. They said, "NOBODY READS THE BIBLE AT ALL!!!!" They kept the bible in its latin form, the vulgate, so nobody could read it save the very educated with authorization. Luther wouldn't have it. In exile, he translates the New Testament into German, a translation which Joseph Smith would later write "the most correct translation I have ever read". Luther gave an empirical piece of work for everyone to read and think about for themselves. As the people shattered the windows of the church, letting the light pierce the colored glass and rebound off the glistening cup of christ, so did Luther shatter dogmas filtering the gospel to the German people.

On top of that, he renounced the practice of celibacy so he could marry a hot nun.

Just as a tangent, one of my new favorite quotes is from the Father who planted seeds in Luther from the start to reform the church. On hearing Luther's doubt in himself to teach the doctrines, he told him, ""We preach best what we need learn most." Great advice for a Chemistry TA who doesn't know what he's doing half the time!!!

Thank you Luther for independent thought, throwing off the fetters of tradition, and staying true to your own beliefs and reason.

This is a portrait of what Martin Luther really looked like. Had I used it at the beginning, you probably wouldn't have even considered reading this blog, since Joseph Fiennes is much more a handsome stallion. You basically would have been practicing eugenics. Sorry.

Man's Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl

2008-10-06T22:12:00.000-07:00

"Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning is one of the great books of our time. Typically, if a book has one passage, one idea with the power to change a person's life, that alone justifies reading it, rereading it, and finding room for it on one's shelves. This book has several such passages." Harold S. Kuschner

This was the final memoir I read for Dr. Kerry's Jews and the Holocaust class. I seem to remember reading it before, but forgot how seminal his ideas were (my bad). I would pausit his book consists of two parts (with additional addendums clarifying more psychologically what he is discussing as Man's search for Meaning), the first part contains a more historical account of several events that happened to him during three stages of camp imprisonment. The first, the entering of the camp, the second, the adjustment to daily life in the camp, and the third, liberation. The second part Frankl elucidates his theory on meaning in life, and how one achieves it.

Like the other works I've read, there is a definite sense of converging of emotion, where death, life, hunger, fatigue, all become so commonplace that they lose their meaning. Once, in a conversation with Roger Merrill, the President of the Sunday school of the church, he said that the temple is a way for us to gain perspective of our lives. It allows us to look beyond the bounds of earthly existence. Satan tries to narrow our view; he gives us things that make us only see the day to day, and forget where we came from and where we're going. He doesn't want us to see perspective.

Sometimes, like today, I lost perspective. I started becoming extremely stressed out because I wasn't prepared for chemistry recitation and my office hours, I was behind on Ochem, and I was behind on my paper (of which, part is supposed to be from this book!). But I had to remind myself that I wasn't in a concentration camp. Even in the worst possible scenario, I flunk a class, I would still be able to go home and have a meal, see my friends and family, and with a bit of luck, still get into med school. So perspective really is a way to calm ourselves, educate ourselves, and put things in their proper place.

A couple quotes I wanted to bring up.

"A man's suffering is similar to the behavior of gas. If a certain quantity of gas is pumped into an empty chamber, it will fill the chamber completely and evenly, no matter how big the chamber. Thus suffering completely fills the human soul and conscious mind, no matter whether the suffering is great or little. Therefore the size of human suffering is absolutely relative." Isn't this an interesting position? Sometimes we will try to place everyone's suffering on a spectrum. But to each individual, their trial is the mountain, and everyone elses' the molehill. It gives us an edge in trying to have empathy for others.

"inmates were bound to react in certain ways, in the final analysis it became clear that the sort of person the prisoner became was the result of an inner decision, and not the result of camp influences alone." Our inner strength and response to what happens to us defines us. This is aluded to later in what I term Frankl's thesis of his book, which I quote later. Let it be said that it isn't our environment that causes us to be a certain way, but who we are responds in certain ways. And we are in control of who we are.

"The way they bore their sufferings was a genuine inner achievement. It is this spiritual freedom--which cannot be taken away--that makes life meaningful and purposeful."

"An active life serves the purpose of giving man the opportunity to realize values in creative work, while a passive life of enjoyment affords him the opportunity to obtain fulfillment in experiencing beauty, art or nature...But not only creativeness and enjoyment are meaningful. If there is a meaning in life at all, then there must be a meaning in suffering. Suffering is an ineradicable part of life, even as fate and death. Without suffering and death human life cannot be complete." How is this true? How is suffering, death, and pain meaningful? Here is a quote I've been saving for awhile:

“There is no genius other than one which is expressed in works of art; the genius of Proust is the sum of Proust’s works; the genius of Racine is his series of tragedies. Outside of that, there is nothing. Why say that Racine could have written another tragedy, when he didn’t write it? A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing.”

Jean-Paul Sartre defining existentialism, the idea that after we exist, we develop our own essence. Basically, we create our own measuring stick with which we are defined. We are only what we create and how we respond to life. So, when we suffer, and we respond with courage, fortitude, compassion for others, these are traits that become tangible through our actions. They become real. We then, are defined by what is real.

Each life is unique in the challenges presented to each individual. That is why the value of each life becomes so valuable: a person cannot be replaced, and a person's meaning cannot be measured by anyone else but himself. Because it is that person and that person alone which creates meaning by responding to such challenges.

Let me end by quoting what I deem as the crowning thesis of Frankl's book. I'm not giving anything away by this, but hopefully it inspires you to read this beautiful and positive work.

"I doubt whether a doctor can answer this question in general terms. For the meaning of life differs from man to man, from day to day and from hour to hour. What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person's life at a given moment. To put the question in general terms would be comparable to the question posed to the chess champion: "Tell me, master, what is the best move in the world?" There simply is no such thing as the best or even a good move apart from a particular situation in a game and the particular personality of one's opponent. The same holds for human existence. One should not search for an abstract meaning of life. Everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life to carry out a concrete assignment which demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated. Thus, everyone's task is as unique as is his specific opportunity to implement it.

As each situation in life represents a challenge to man and presents a problem for him to solve, the quesion of the meaning of life may actually be reversed. Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is but rather he must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible. Thus logotherapy sees in responsibleness the very essence of human existence."

I must end by thanking my parents who have created a legacy for me to strive everyday to follow. They have showed me how to honorably respond to life's challenges with courage, fortitude, honor, compassion, love, and hope. No day is perfect. None of us are perfect. No trial is lined with silver. Cumulatively, each act becomes another chip hammered from our own Michelangelo. And their parlor definitely contains two masterpieces I hope someday to emulate.

Moments of Reprieve by Primo Levi

2008-10-06T00:48:00.000-07:00

In life, there is an ebb and flow to tension. Most of our days are filled with work, school, family, play, good times, bad times, tragedy and fortune. For the life of a concentration camp inmate, there is no such crest and trough of emotion. Upon entrance, a man (I say man, because most women were immediately gassed), is shocked beyond all comprehension at the horror of his situation. And from that moment on, there is no break of routine. Death becomes common place.

In his memoir, Levi captured the few precious moments, some what we'd call common, some we'd term miracle, and aptly titled the collection "Moments of Reprieve". A Boistrous Jew named Rappoport steals soup during air-raid sirens, then asks Levi to remember his will. A "green triangle" Kapo stays silent when Levi breaks the fatal no writing rule. The inmates see a woman, which spawns a wily tale of Adam and Eve.

You, like me, are like the new batch of Hungarians that enter Auschwitz. Our space was made available from frequent "selections", and the beds we sleep were once occupied by inmates now dead. We don't know the workings of the camp. We, like Bandi, Levi's new work partner, discover slowly, that stealing is good, laziness is life-saving. At first, our stubborness keeps us from bending. But hunger, death, torture, fear, and work, are persuasive orators. It is then we glimpse the fortuitous moments that renew us.

"By the weak gleam of the light bulb, I read the magnificent letter, hastily translating it into German. Bandi listened attentively. Certainly he could not understand much because German was neither my language nor his, and also because the message was scant and reticent. But he understood what was essential for him to understand: that that piece of paper in my hands, which had reached me in such a precarious way and which I would destroy before nightfall, represented a breach, a small gap in the black universe that closed tightly around us, and through that breach hope could pass. At least I believe that Bandi, even though he was a Zugang, understood or sensed all this, because when I was through reading he came close to me, rummaged at length in his pocket, and finally, with loving care, pulled out a radish. He gave it to me, blushing deeply, and said with shy pride: "I've learned. This is for you. It's the first thing I've stolen."

This Way to the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen by Tadeusz Borowski

2008-09-29T18:00:00.000-07:00

One tactic I've noticed certain films and books try to do is blend the villain and the hero together, creating an anti-hero. Someone you want to cheer for but at the end of the day is a bad guy. Borowski does this with his firsthand account, except the roles of the good and bad are reversed. The characters are the inmates of Birkenau, so broken and numbed to the evils they were forced to be a part of, at times becoming the hands of the devil himself. Watching new shipments of jews come into the camp is an everyday occurence, and Borowski and his fellow Polish Aryans watch through the barbed fences as they are loaded onto trucks and taken to the gas showers. One of his accounts quotes one of the SS guards as saying fifteen thousand had been killed in one day, a "good, rich transport".
Borowski reveals how possible it is for a good human being to forget morals in place of surviving. Many, including myself, often sit back and look at the horizon of the Holocaust and gawk bewilderdly, wondering how a country of people were led and trained to blame and kill millions of their neighbors and fellow human beings. Then you realize that even prisoners, those thrown into the concentration camps without cause by the NAZI party, took part in the routine killings and eventually were past feeling to the moral brotherhood they were shattering. "I don't know why, but I am furious, simply furious with these people. Furious because I must be here because of them. I feel no pity. I'm not sorry they are going to the gas chamber. Damn them all!"
Moving people from the trains to the trucks was a chore. Their screams an annoyance. Borowski describes going in after the people had been carried away from one of the train cars and carrying out the dead children by their necks. "We carry them out like chickens. Holding several in each hand."
You can't judge, because you'd probably do the same, or worse. One chapter is on a normal day at Harmenz, part of the camp where the Poles worked. The Aryan prisoners had been in the camp the longest, and therefore had moved up in the hierarchy. They recieved more food, more downtime, more sleep, more benefits. Still, a wrong move would lead to them being "selected" for the gas. Borowski comes ever so close to being killed just for a conversation mistaken for subversive actions. He plays dumb, and ends up winning the guard's favor for a pair of shoes. Some Jews weren't so lucky, and they were killed for not being able to do march straight legged.
It's interesting learning the clockwork of the camps, i.e. what becomes praiseworthy and what is valued. A low number, below one million, is very prestigious. It means you survived for a very long time. Apples, onions, bread, all was like thousands of dollars (or reich Marks in Germany). The Poles received Nettle soup, with rotten nettles at the bottom, and little else. STill, this was better than the almost water soup the Jews received. And more.
Borowski asks at one point, why does "one man have such power over another?" How are such large numbers led to their deaths so submissively? It makes one wonder, definitely, and the reader is left to ponder its answers.
He also compares the world to the concentration camp. "The weak work for the strong, and if they have no strength or will to work--then let them steal, or let them die."
A large part of the book is Borowski's letters to his sweetheart. He describes everything in the camp. Again, his description makes the entire scene 2D, blending horrific things like the smoke from the crematoria and soldiers rocking back and forth on a spade over a prisoner's neck, with the beauty of the outside and memories from the German and Polish cities he's been to. His dinner and someone's death appear in the same sentence like they were supposed to. Our imaginations can't reconcile the horror of such scenes alone, but the ignored contrast only shock us more.
You should read this book. You owe it to the author, and the millions who died.

Zelda and the Enlightenment (really)

2008-09-28T18:00:00.000-07:00

So, I imagine most of you didn't read my last blog on the enlightenment, because you thought it was going to be boring, or too cryptic. So, How about some enlightenment thinking with the videogame Zelda???
This is the brilliance of my mind. Zelda the videogame truly embodies many elements of enlightenment thought. First, take Link. Link's whole mission is to rescue the princess Zelda from the evil Gannon. Enlightenment thinkers were concerned with the relationship between man and woman, with love. The whole separation of man and woman is the premise of the entire video game. Link must rescue Zelda.

Link also collects pieces of the triforce, where each piece is a triangle, of a larger TRIANGLULAR OBJECT. The triforce represents the combination of bridled passion, reason, and wisdom. The three corners of the triforce. It is what gives him power to fight his nemesis Ganon. Just as reason allows us to throw off the fetters of tradition and dogma. We think for ourselves. The triforce gives link power. Reason, wisdom, and emotion combined gives us all power.
In order to obtain the triforce and tools to overcome evil, Link descends from the normal world into different dungeons. There are no windows in dungeons by the way. Each dungeon is a representation of the darkness, with a final demon for Link to battle for the piece of the triforce, or the light. Link descends into darkness to find the light. This same dialectic exists in the enlightenment. Darkness and light were major symbols of ignorance and knowledge respectively. Link faces his ignorance, or represents facing religious dogmas of his time, and finds truth. Enlightenment is all about finding truth.
The videogame is also all about collecting "items". Property was extremely important in enlightenment times, and Zelda emobodies this with Link's quest to collect potions, bows and arrows, bombs, and the master sword.

The master sword, when link achieves it, represents his mastery over himself. Discipline and refinement are blatant representations of enlightenment thinking. Kant, Hume, Goethe, all discuss how we must think for ourselves and mature in our reasoning. This is all represented when Link transcends his youth and is strong and wise enough to posess the Master Sword.

Also, remember the map and compass so critical to each Zelda installment? Well, Enlighteners were very concerned with measurement and mapping. Magnetism was very popular even before the 18th century, but electricity became a huge interest during the Enlightenment. The map, however was smack dab in the middle of Enlightened times. People wanted to measure the earth from sea to shining sea, and sailors, cartographers and explorers took off in every direction to map and discover new dirt. Way to go Link!

None of us realized when we played the first Zelda on Nintendo so many years ago we were being inculcated with Enlightened doctrine. Ah well.

The Magic Flute, Enlightenment Thinking, and temple prep

2008-09-27T16:49:00.000-07:00

The Magic Flute is an opera written by Mozart, finished in 1791. At first glance, the plot is quite light-hearted, so much that 19th and 20th century Europeans would take their children to see this opera to "break them in" to high brow entertainment. Yet the masonic symbolism, religious undertones, and audience instruction make for an opera that has surprising depth. Not only that, but opera is the highest pinnacle of western culture art. So read my blog.
The opera follows a young, immature prince, Tamino, and his side-kick bird catcher papagino. The prince is betrothed to find the young princess Pamina by her mother known as the Queen of the Night. To aid them, they are given a magical flute crafted by the Queen's dead husband. They travel to Egypt to break into the evil king Sarastro's palace and free Pamina, who is to marry a Moore. Instead, the audience discovers they have been tricked: Sarastro captured Pamina for her own good, and it is the Evil Queen of the Night who is trying to deceive the characters, as well as the audience. The prince and princess must pass through several trials in order to refine themselves and purify their hearts. Papagino must do the same to find a bonny lass to call his own. Will the Queen thwart Sarastro's design? Will the two young men find their true loves and be worthy of them? I couldn't tell you; I fell asleep halfway through the play.

Jokes.

But I'm not going to spoil it for you. This truly was a moving German Opera, which, much like a good Matchbox 20 song, was applicable to almost everyone.

(I'd like to address many of the enlightenment elements brought to light enlightenment pun intended) throughout the opera. Enlightenment thinking began to re-script the long-standing lines of class, race, and gender. At the beginning of the play, the stage is shared by the prince as well as a bird catcher. Besides this un-characteristic pairing, Papagino responds to the prince's rank and status like inquiries of, "who are you? Where do you come from?" with the simple, "I"m a muensche" or "I'm a man. A human". It was this type of thinking that was rampant during the enlightenment. People became part of a natural morality. Instead of nobility or religion defining them, they were defined as being human. Everything else became ancillary to this. Mozart tried to portray a blurring of aristocracy and peasantry with his two main characters, showing that all people were human before they were prince's, farmer's, or merchant's. In fact, Papageno at first doesn't even trust the prince, major faux pas before the 18th century.
Mozart also showed women as being equal to the man. To begin, he prevents Pamina from entering into the temple of Isis and Osiris in Sarastro's kingdom. This would naturally follow european thought before the enlightenment, that the woman was less than the man and subordinate to him. But towards the end of the play, the audience watches as Pamina is allowed to enter the temple, and not just to follow the prince. It is the pairing of the man and woman together, side by side, that allows them to enter into the highest realms of the temple, and well as the highest forms of maturity, thought, and happiness. As well, the two gods represented in the opera, Isis and Osiris, man and woman, were equal and the people prayed to both. This was definitely revolutionary, being dual-theis, as well as both feminine and masculine, and Mozart was on the cutting edge of enlightenment thinking to structure male and female interaction so equally and cause it to be so necessary.
We also see some of the themes of the enlightenment i.e. love or emotion, and it's opposite, reason. Enlightened thinkers were very concerned with finding a connection between emotion and reason, and it was called wisdom. This is objectified early on in the play, when Tamino, a young, impatient and impulsive man in love, is prevented from entering the temple of wisdom. For one, he has no reason or logic to sedate his passions, thus he hasn't combined his passion and reason into a higher form of thought. Second, he is alone, and needs a companion to enter the temple.
Love is defined in all four manifestations throughout the opera. Agape, filia, storge, eros are all the forms of love represented. This is a common enlightenment question: how do you define your feelings? What are your feelings and what do they mean? All the characters, Tamino, Pamina, the Moore, Papageno, all somehow define love differently during the opera. It is a way of looking differently at something, not taking it for face value.
The entire play also revolves around Tamino and Papageno in their path to maturity. Immanuel Kant, one of the greatest enlightened thinkers, defined the enlightenment as, "Man's release from his self-incurred tutelage." He was concerned with people unable to think for themselves since religion, aristocracy, and government did it for them. NOt only did it, but forced people to think the same way. The Enlightenment was about freedom. It positioned man as the interpreter of the universe: an existentialist. (Existentialism became a movement in the 20th century, but I still think it begins with enlighteners thinking for themselves and discovering things by their OWN reason).
Another great element both in the opera and in the enlightenment was the symbolism of light and dark. I for one feel this model quite cliche', as it has been overused for the last two millennia. But Mozart used it to illustrate the difference between ignorance and maturity, bondage and freedom, evil and good. The queen was: the queen of the NIGHT. When the Moore was about to have his way with Pamina, it was at night. He said, "Moon, hide your face!" Sarastro (reminiscient of Soleil, solarium), was a representation of the sun. He posessed all wisdom, knowledge, and reason. He had tamed his passions, and was forgiving. Why would light and dark be so prevalent in the enlightenment? Religion and its dogmas, in many peoples' eyes, kept people in bondage, specifically the catholic church. That's why the reformation was a springboard for new religions and churches, to the beat of over 2,000 protestant churches today in America alone. People had been passing down their traditions of religion, the world, medicine, and any other vignette of life for centuries. For instance in medicine, it was in the 18th century that doctors began to redefine anatomy and the way medicine was practiced, separating themselves from Galenic thought.
Beyond this, I wanted to discuss the separate paths that Tamino and Papageno chose to follow during their quest. At one point, as they are in the temple, the call comes for them to leave. Papageno is too busy eating his fill to want to follow, and he misses it. Later one of the priests of the temple forgives him, but tells him he has reached the highest echelon of his progression. Papageno says he's happy with that, and there are other people like him, content to stay on the ground and not reach for higher things. I think this symbolizes higher thought and learning. Some people truly desire to understand more about their world, religion, themselves, and so they have to put in the work to achieve it. Papageno was content to eat and drink, live a good life, and find a wife and have kids. The message was either path you choose should be the one right for you, but that by pursuing a higher path, there would be greater rewards. This is symbolized by the "temple marriage" of Tamino and Pamina. It is almost eerie how much LDS temple doctrine is seen in the play. The man and woman enter the temple together, and give eachother several egyptian "tokens". Many "egyptian" symbols are similar to our own. The couple is told to wear robes, and then they change robes again! In the end, they ascend steps and are married by Sarastro, the "high priest" of the egyptian temple.
I also thought the magic flute was a great way to represent self-expression and individuality. Although the enlightenment is about coming together and being concerned for many, it also is about thinking for yourself. What better way of thinking for yourself than playing an instrument, where you are in control of the melody, the harmony, the dynamic and expression. This is a way of objectifying maturity, or thinking for oneself.
The final message eluded to throughout the opera was the eternality of love and of happiness. Sarastro provided a way for the prince and princess's love to be eternal. Both had to harness their passions of youth, mature in their love, and become poised and controlled in their actions. Then they would achieve their aims.

I recommend the Magic Flute as a way to coalesce your enlightenment thinking.

New blogs, posts to come

2008-09-16T01:40:00.000-07:00

Just a little teaser: I will be starting a new blog to start writing a novel I've been thinking about. Yes, it's one of my goals to write a New York Times Bestseller, and I will, and I'm going to start by publishing it as a blog. So you can read it and stay up on it. Stay tuned.

Also, I have a couple posts coming up. One is on a book I just read, Blood and Guts, a short history of medicine by Roy Porter which was quite interesting, and could involve some interesting debate on national healthcare and social medicine. Stay tuned.

Also, GI Jonesy is making a new documentary hopefully on his triathlon experience this weekend. So stay tuned.

Until then, busy yourself by commenting on my published pristine prose/poetry pausited periodically previous!

Friend or notafriend?

2008-09-16T01:34:00.000-07:00

Recently, I decided to unfriend a friend of mine who has never responded via phone, text, email, facebook, blogspot, or any other form of contact I've tried to make in the last year. She responded once, and it was a shallow lie I knew she wouldn't follow up on. "Hey let's get together soon I mean it!"

Okay, I didn't unfriend, but I'm upset, because I think basic friend protocol is you make an effort to reciprocate in some way when a friend tries to make contact with you. Let's be honest. It takes five seconds. Are you really that busy? Are you? Are you?

Am I wrong in thinking this? The answer is no, but I'll let you comment yourself below. Is she a good friend? Not at all, not to me, and I'm not the only one she does this to. She does this to other people that care about her.

All I'm saying is I have other things to do than chase blue marlins in the sea that won't bite.

real good video

2008-09-16T01:33:00.000-07:00

Please vote for Ben's new symbol, and post your own!

2008-09-09T13:32:00.000-07:00

Due to recent outcries from my blogging community, I am now taking a vote for a new symbol that will encapsulate my essence. This is the infamous eagle symbol I had adopted, popularized by the corporate chain clothing brand, American Eagle. I can't think of two words that, when combined, would give such a patriotic aura. American. Eagle. (sniff sniff). Alas, it must go: the will of the people has spoken. Please look at some of the finalists, vote in the comments, and then post your own symbol!

a yes man (part 3) read part one first!!!

2008-08-19T03:35:00.001-07:00

Lastly, a character I admire from my new favorite show Weeds is the main protagonist, Nancy. She's unbelievably great in this series. Anyway, I love her character in that she is very frank with how she feels or what she wants or doesn't want. She doesn't agree to something unless she absolutely wants it or has to do it. She isn't afraid to say no. I think the word no is the most important word in the english vocabulary. K and I were talking about a common associate we have who is a real douche bag. What makes him so you ask? His back-stabbing and two-facing and schmoozing. Nobody wants a person who says what other people want to hear, then backs out or is inconsistent.
I know sometimes I'm like that. I've said this before: I'm a people pleaser and don't like letting people down. But the reality is it's better to not commit to things you know you won't do or don't want to do. Sometimes I'll agree to do something as trivial as watching a movie with friends that I don't want to watch. I always love hanging out with friends. But sometimes there is just something else I'd rather do. But instead of doing that, I end up watching the movie or whatever other activity it could be. Then I end up feeling disappointed or regretting my decision when it was my own damn fault.

The point is, don't be a yes man or woman. Stick to your guns and be consistent. Be transparent. By that I mean that we should be the same no matter who we're around. No secrets.

As always, my advice is meant for myself solely, but I post it for your opinions and whitty, comical insults. Write on!

What is worth valuing? (part 2)

2008-08-19T03:34:00.001-07:00

So who do we admire? I was thinking about this lately, and it can't be actors. It can't be most musicians. I think there are some actors and musicians worth admiring and idolizing to some degree, but not because they're beautiful or famous or talented at acting or singing. I would admire them because they do something worthwhile for those around them, or for the world. There are definitely influential musicians out there, and actors for that matter, and that's all well and good. But I think deep down, when we think of people we truly admire and look up to, we will find it's people we know intimately as being good hearted, loving, caring, and generous people. In our homes and communities. I think positions of influence such as teaching, health, social work, psychology, engineering, or a plethora of other professions would make for good places of work, but I think we will find that its people who excelled in their field, or used their talents for true betterment of society, that are the ones we admire.
I love the olympics, and think that sports are genuinely positive. And I admire those who dedicate their lives to earning medals. But these are things secondary and tertiary to what's critical for good living: good values exemplified daily. And anyone honest with themselves I think will find they only look up to those with those qualities. I'd love to have the skills of Michael Phelps, or Tiger Woods. But I'd rather be more like my Mom or Dad, or some of my good friends. Or Abraham Lincoln, Albert Einstein, George C. Marshall, Mother Theresa, etc. etc.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid (part 1) readme first!

2008-08-19T03:09:00.000-07:00

First I'll address our two candidates running for office. I am utterly perplexed at the ridiculousness of America's current political situation, and the ripples that will be felt throughout the rest of my lifetime. The candidates have been running full time for two years. Two Years. Let me repeat, TWO YEARS. What else have they done withe their time? Not one damn thing that's what. They talk about change, and make promises, and tell us how bad things are and how they're the key to unlock capitol Hill's gates of production. Instead of going out and doing something, they've talked about it for two straight years. Once they get into office, they'll shuffle around some stacks of papers then after they hit their two year mark, they'll have to start running again and that will take first priority. It's like a never ending parade of promises and handshakes. I understand things have been this way for awhile, but I don't believe to the scope as this current pre-election charade.
What really should happen is people do their jobs. All the time. There is no campaigning. Maybe other people nominate you and then they get your name out into the open. People vote based on character and work ethic that can be legitimately seen, not some sideshow being paraded around across the country and on television. Do you know why Obama made a trip to the middle east recently? Because Mccain did earlier this year to help his polls. So Obama needed to follow suit. Mccain is no better. He makes ads attacking the integrity of those around him. If it wasn't Romney, it's was HIlary and now Obama. He's a geriatric douche bag that needs smack in his wrinkly, pasty face. there is no rhyme or reason to anything these narcissistic trumpet blowers do, unless it's to the tune of showing you how awesome they are at being politically awesome. Bastards. Hundreds of millions of dollars wasted. Only to be spent again in two years. I think it's ridiculous. I don't admire these fellows. not after all their self-aggrandizement. The presidency is a position for an ivy-league billionaire who can impress the masses with good bullshitting. Nothing more.

Running

2008-08-08T23:23:00.000-07:00

And it came to pass

The trail rolled upwards, hazy in the distance from the heat resonating from its black, tarred skin. The synthetic beauty of square, supple lawns and decorative gardens spattered with color was left behind, replaced with the golden azure of a tinder blanket, swaying in the light breath of the doldrums slowly approaching. The air felt like water from a temperate bath; wet and unrefreshing. An occasional jeep or scooter passed him, whispering behind, then angering, then shrinking over the horizon. Their paths so linear and finite, he thought. Although his pace was quick, his heart churning the blood inside him, he wasn’t in a hurry. Instead, he wished the clarity he felt at those moments of breathlessness could last beyond his return and cool down. Suddenly he was off the road and into the dirt. He began the ascent.

“Cold, cold water surrounds me now
and all I’ve got is your hand.”

after I had been in the land for many days

The path was steep. Weeds were on either side of the crooked ground of dirt and rocks. His breath was shallow and deliberate. His feet drove into the ground, and small explosions of dust floated into the air. Every step strained his muscles with slightly more discomfort, a touch more of pain. He watched the path move below him, like a small stream of brown gurgling around the rocks, and he skipped across them, keeping each step in check. Ahead the mountain rose higher, steeper. A giant without a shadow. Some had forged the path before him, but not many, and not recently. He glanced behind him.

“Love one’s son
allow me that
And I can’t let go of your hand”

the voice of the lord came unto me saying

He was a paradox of purpose. He didn’t know where he would end, and he didn’t know why he was there. The trail led on, but he didn’t know where. Above him was a looming presence, maybe the tide of clouds enveloping the valley, maybe his past. It drove him upwards. Finally, he climbed out of the large canal of stones the size of apple boxes and bony trees with arthritis in their branches. The wall of the mountain was a fortress of sinewy grass, cursed with small locusts. They flew around him, looking for a taste of the savory beads on his skin. He needed water, but couldn’t turn back. He slowed, and slowed again. Then once more. But still, upwards.

“Cold, cold water surrounds me now
and all i’ve got is your hand.
Can you hear me now?
Or am I lost?”

Every muscle screamed inside of him; an orchestra of pain. Every bend thought to be the summit, only to become the bottom of the path before him. He almost couldn’t hear the music in his ears anymore so great was the debate in his mind. Intellect, reason, hope, doubt, all argued with raised voices. He questioned his own journey, and wondered if what he felt looking back was regret. His shirt was soaked with sweat, his feet hot from the rhythm of his exertion. What was the tidal wave rising in him? He jogged on, knowing it was either a roar that would rip him apart, or a numbness that would lull him asleep.

“All i’ve got is your hand.
Lord can you hear me now?”

Arise, and get thee into the mountain.

Then he was there, not at the end, but at the apex of his ascent. He paused, consciously slowing his breath and heart. The music was faint in his ears.

“Cold, cold water surrounds me now.”

He looked out towards the city. Its uproar and chaos had been muted by his deliberate separation from it. The storm stared at him. It wasn’t angry; instead it seemed to flex its magnificence before the valley, only wanting to be acknowledged as powerful and mighty.

“And all I’ve got is your hand.”

He felt something accumulating deep within him. A nameless emotion. Familiar. The breeze crossed his face, her lips cool to the touch. He noticed finally that trailing down the mountain, at the exact spot he stood, was a large chain-linked fence. It separated the mountain in two. He glanced to his right and saw more path, with more climbs and dips. To his left, he could return, retracing what he had already seen. Unforged or familiar was the choice. He looked out again across the magnificence of the beauty before him. Somewhere in him, something reminded him that great rewards only came with heavy cost.

I arose and went up into the mountain, and cried unto the lord.

“Lord, can you hear me now?”

It would only get more difficult, he knew. His shirt wouldn’t dry for a long time. His muscles wouldn’t rest. He felt the solitude around him, and the singleness of the experiences ahead.

“Lord can you hear me now?”

But maybe, maybe somewhere along his path, he would witness that moment of precise focus and beauty he had just witnessed.

The God/friend dilemma

2008-08-07T19:39:00.000-07:00

Let me first address the multitude of subjects that I will hopefully get to on this wonderful article by Blake Ostler, elucidated to me by Katelin, which can be read by clicking the word awesome: awesome

This blog however will be about an interesting little inquiry I've been dwelling on as of late. I think if I'm honest with myself, I realize that when I have certain dilemmas in my life emotionally, socially, etc. I usually end up talking about them to my good friends. I think many of us do this at times. We need someone to listen to us so we can get advice, or vent about our problems, or just get them out into the open. I find however that I probably do this more than most (talk about my life's experiences and dilemmas) and sometimes feel like I'm wearing out a friend's ear or boring them or being just plain narcissistic.

It's not that I don't want to hear about anyone else's problems. I do. I sincerely try to be a good friend. And I do whatever I can to show that. But I do realize that I like to discuss my own dilemmas, maybe because I don't trust my own perspective, or just that I am the type of person that needs someone to listen to me and empathize.

At some point, however, people get sick of listening to you or being around you. Unfortunately, your not done talking about something, or you haven't worked through a problem sufficiently.

That's where having God in your life becomes so rewarding. I remember many times in my life when I was more reliant upon him, I always had someone to discuss things with, and I could talk as much as I wanted and I always felt like he wanted to listen.

Maybe this is where the term, "don't rely upon the arm of flesh," really finds its definition. It doesn't have so much to do with temporal, worldly living, but it more means that when push comes to shove, God is there for us to rely on when everyone else isn't, or they're patience and empathy is all used up.

Anyone that makes it through my more meaty blogs (which is like one or two people) needn't suppose this is some veiled criticism or shot. On the contrary, I believe and have always felt I've always had the most gregarious, impeccable friends. And we all know I've asked a lot of them on many a recent occasion, for which I am consistently grateful. I just realize that at some point, people want and need to move onto their own lives.

Chalk one up for God. Good game God. And thanks.

My Panache!

2008-08-04T22:09:00.001-07:00

This play, written in France in 1897, was one of the most moving plays I've seen. The main character, Cyrano, barges in on a play and threatens the main player's life. In so doing, he displays the most incredible talent as a poet, dueling a man while composing a 12 line poem. The audience discovers his love for Roxanne, the artistocratic beauty, but is ashamed to confess his love because of his tragically large nose. Instead, Roxanne falls for the beautiful but blundering Christian, a soldier primed for the war with Spain. He loves her as well, but can't impress her with his words. Roxanne binds Cyrano to protect Christian, and Cyrano ends up writing love letters to her for Christian. When Christian dies, Cyrano keeps his secret for fifteen years before he is discovered and dies tragically in the arms of Roxanne.

There were two main themes rampant in this play. The first was the injustice of capitalism and marketing. Christian, a talentless buffoon, was blessed with good looks, and so he originally won the love of the beautiful Roxanne. Cerano, a righteous, talented, funny, strong, and valiant man, lacked the face that could attract his love. I will however comment that I don't think Cyrano should have wasted his time with the selfish and demanding Roxanne. Much more quality women were available to him, but in the words of Jessica from the Merchant of Venice, "Love is blind."
Anyway, we see in the tabloids all the time of beautiful people wandering about their boulevards in alligator purses and ferraris, but what have they accomplished? What breadth of character do they have? Some are talented, but for the most part, our culture loves celebrity for celebrities sake. (See my previous blog.)

The other theme was more important. Cyrano obviously was a quality individual. Yet his hermatia was his nose. One achilles heel in his character ruined his chances for winning his love. It could be argued that he should have had the courage to approach her regardless of his nose, but I think that had he done this, she still would have judged him and withheld her love. Sometimes in life, we will judge a person based on one character flaw. There may be one hiccup in their appearance or personality or values, and we refuse to look past it. Obviously there are some things that really should cause us to break ties or refrain from pursuing relationships. But there are other things that become our own stumbling blocks from attaining what many of us want most in this life: loving, quality relationships.

The play at the Shakespeare festival in Cedar City, incorporated many great stage effects and techniques to bring the words to life. At one point towards the end of the play, after Cerano is mortally wounded, he comments on the autumn leaves:

CYRANO:
The autumn leaves!

ROXANE (lifting her head, and looking down the distant alley):
Soft golden brown, like a Venetian's hair.
--See how they fall!

CYRANO:
Ay, see how brave they fall,
In their last journey downward from the bough,
To rot within the clay; yet, lovely still,
Hiding the horror of the last decay,
With all the wayward grace of careless flight!

I felt the meaning also meant the drops of blood dripping to the ground from his own wound. He was finishing his final journey, and the blood and him, would eventually rot in the clay of the earth. They would hide the pain and sorrow of his life for never having Roxanne's love.

One of the great lines from the play was this:

Cyrano: A lie is but a myth. A myth is partly a truth.

And finally, Cyrano dies in the arms of his love. He finished as a poor poet, never selling his work to the businessman, who would cut and retouch his work. He proved his valiance by never ruining the memory of Christian for Roxanne, never revealing the true author of the love letters Roxanne truly fell in love with. He defended his group of men with fierceness of sword and sharpness of wit. The one thing he kept that could never be taken by his enemies, he exclaims: "My panache!"

McMerica

2008-08-04T21:48:00.000-07:00

It doesn't matter where you look, you are bombarded with some advertisement for some business. From a businessweek article:

Consumers are bombarded with hundreds of ads and thousands of billboards, packages, and other logo sightings every day. Old ad venues are packed to the point of impenetrability as more and more sales messages are jammed in. Supermarkets carry 30,000 different packages, each of which acts as a minibillboard, up from 17,500 a decade ago, according to the Food Marketing Institute. Networks air 6,000 commercials a week, up 50% since 1983, according to Pretesting Co., a market research company. Prime-time TV carries more than 10 minutes of paid advertising every hour, roughly a minute more than at the start of the decade. Add in the promos, and almost 15 minutes of every prime-time hour are given over to ads. No wonder viewers zap so many commercials. To circumvent that clutter, marketers are stamping their messages on everything that stands still. From popcorn bags in movie theaters to airsickness bags on planes to toilet stalls, shopping carts, and gas pumps, few places are innocent of advertising. With total U.S. ad spending up almost 8%, to $162 billion last year, according to McCann-Erickson USA Inc., the new ad permutations aren't replacing the traditional television, magazine, and billboard messages. Rather, advertisers are adding new weapons to their arsenals because the traditional venues are packed full.

Beyond filling up every blank wall and pixel, corporate america has taken over every form of talent. Behind every talented musician, star athlete, brilliant prodigy, scientific breakthrough, doctor, and politician, is a businessman. Unless someone is marketable, they'll never break into the industry. They may be more talented than everyone on the market or in their field, but that means nothing unless someone can hitch a tow and start plowing money out of the ground. I remember a documentary years ago that showed different basketball players who were purported to be better than Michael Jordan. It may or may not have been true, but with all the people in the world, it is a reasonable assumption. Maybe they didn't have the sellable looks MJ did.
I attended the Faint concert last week, and talking with a musician we went with, Brent, I asked him if he would consider going into the music industry. "No, I'd love to, but there's no way to make a living." He proceeded to tell me that he had some extremely talented friends who just couldn't make any money doing music, even though hundreds and thousands of people enjoyed their music. No label would take them on for their own reasons. Among those, one of them was not that they weren't musically gifted, or they couldn't cut it as "musicians" in the industry. The businessman just decided they wouldn't make as much money as someone else, so they weren't willing to invest the time or money.

Business has always controlled the table. Mercantilism was the main practice for the spread of islam throughout the middle-east and into Europe. Capitalism drove Britain, as well as the founding of America. Taxation without representation could be termed, we want to keep our money from our businesses.

It's not wrong. But capitalism has become malignant. Fast food is on every corner. Everyone wears the same clothes. We are walking billboards for companies that control our minds. They tell us what to buy, when and where. One can't go anywhere without seeing advertisements splattered across every available space. Worst of all, unless you can market yourself, you won't be successful, no matter how talented a (fill in the blank) you are.

The Dursleys at In-n-Out

2008-08-03T01:15:00.000-07:00

So K and I are chilling at In-n-Out visiting her sister, enjoying ourselves a fresh burger, delicious chocolate milkshakes, and cheese fries, when the Dursleys arrive. They waddle in, Mr. Dursley a dirty brown dust broom below his nose, hair to match, and rosy cheeks. His wife, Paula, wears round owl glasses from which a blank but avaricious stare emerges. As she eyes the fries swimming in the oil cookers in the back, Mr. Dursley begins an order. But it is extremely complicated. I notice they take well over six minutes to place an order for two meals. The reason? First, they want a number one, then they want cheese fries instead of normal fries. THen, instead of paying for extra cheese, they just want the cheese from the cheeseburger to be placed on the fries. THen instead of that, they want just an order of cheese fries with the meal. But then they want.. and so on and so forth.

They get their order and sit down. It must have been under ten dollars. Then, it dawns on Mr. Dudley that he may have been overcharged. He takes his receipt to the counter and points out that he ordered a combo meal, with cheese fries, and not cheese fries extra. The manager points out that the combo meal is just the drink, burger and fries combined: there is no discount, the price is on the board for convenience. He starts squawking about extra cheese this and extra cheese charged on that, and he is informed that they were in fact only charged one order of fries, but that the cheese does cost extra. He is incensed. Outraged. Flabbergasted. Air escapes loudly from his rotund, trans-fatuated self. Impossible he says. An extra DOLLAR FOR CHEESE ON THE FRIES? Little does he know, but the rest of our fast food nation also conspires against him: A cheeseburger, does in fact, cost more than a hamburger. "Well if I only would have been told I NEVER, EVER would have ordered cheese fries. But MY mistake it's totally MY fault. I WILL NEVER ORDER CHEESE FRIES AGAIN!" HIs advice is meant for the entire restaurant. It's meant for all french-frykind.

Only two minutes pass by when Mrs. Dudley steps to the counter. She brings her cardboard hopper of fries, the cheese almost all but devoured. "Excuse me, could you please warm this up for me? The cheese is cold." The manager, the nice man he is, disposes of the remaining fries and places a new order in a new hopper, with TWO, yes Two pieces of cheese on it. Most cheese lovers would bless his name for the act. Not Paula. "Could you maybe put one more eincy weeincy bit of cheese on there for me please?" K, the manager, and I all share the same sentiment. What greasy audacity she has! What kind of passion and, dare I say, addiction would drive such an one to pursue her treasure so courageously. Mrs. Dudley exemplified this super-sized character for a worthy prize: processed American Cheese.

"I'm sorry, but we would have to charge you extra for the extra cheese," says the manager. K and I expected her to whip out her plastic and swipe it faster than getting a Jimmy Johns sub from the drive-thru. But then, from the back of the restaurant, Mr. Dudley yells, "DON'T YOU DARE, PAULA." Paula sheepishly nods and whispers, "Okay." We all can relate to her disappointment. She takes her new hopper of cheesy mc-cheese fries back to her husband, and they haughtily finish their meals. Oh, the injustice. All the while, K and I snigger and laugh at the scene unfolded.

Why a bridge of faith?

2008-07-29T21:39:00.000-07:00

It is very easy to find counsel from other sources besides the lord. From the Doctrine and Covenants Section 56, verse 14, comes this seminal counsel:
Behold, thus saith the Lord unto my people—you have many things to do and to repent of; for behold, your sins have come up unto me, and are not pardoned, because you seek to counsel in your own ways.
And your hearts are not satisfied. And ye obey not the truth, but have pleasure in unrighteousness.
I personally have amply thought about this truth for many months. There are many ways to assign meaning to a certain particular set of circumstances or realities. For instance, there are many ways to find meaning or purpose to life. This is provable by driving down the main street of a small town and noting all of the different churches or religious buildings. Many religions have similarities among their doctrines. Many also have copious amounts of contradictory explanations. Beyond religion is the subject of philosophy, where great thinkers delve into the great questions that have perplexed mankind for centuries. These different teachings and ideas come to a head articulately with a quote from the Dean of undergraduate studies, Dr. John Bell. In a cell biology class, he once said to me, “It is a difficult task to look at the realities around us and try to assign meaning to them. The realities have always existed. We try to determine their cause and meaning.” With all of the different realities around us and perplexing explanations, it is important to continually seek out answers.
God encourages our enquiry into his plan. It is when we seek counsel beyond what God has given us to justify our own actions that he is disappointed. Why would god be upset at our inquiries if we look at following other explanations? Many convincing evidences and arguments exist for and against God, let alone a certain definition of God. In many forms of debate, a position is taken on a particular matter and then pieces of evidence are used to prove the validity of either side. A certain source could be used by either side, manipulated in a certain way to prove something one way, and then manipulated differently to prove the other, even though both views are totally contrary to one another. With this difficulty in mind, why wouldn’t God provide a more sure or convincing way of knowing his truth, that we more fully follow it?
God has certain laws for us to abide, and He has a particular way that He wants us to follow which begins with faith. Faith, I believe, is the crux to why obeying this counsel is so difficult, yet it is also the key to God’s plan for us.
In my own personal quest for truth, I find it difficult accepting things I have no hard-line evidence for. Many may say that the gospel provides hundreds of pieces of evidence, yet I believe each one of those purported evidences still require some degree of faith in order for it to perpetuate a belief in the gospel as the LDS church teaches. Sometimes, I intimate that if we only knew by seeing an angel or by some other undeniable experience that God had a specific plan for us then we would certainly follow. But this would be contrary to God’s purpose. I don’t suppose to know his full purpose or how He will bring it about, but I suppose it has something to do with our desire. Since faith is what bridges the gap to everything within the gospel, we must cross it because we want to, and not because we are compelled to through knowledge.
It is in this way that God truly proves us. This is what defines the nature of our hearts. By providing a certain path and asking us to exercise faith, we choose to trod it out of desire and nothing else. It is our prerogative to find other counsels that fit our desires, like finding evidence for an argument we aim to win. It may be that in seeking counsel other than that from God, it is because these are the counsels we truly want, not because they are more convincing or irr-refutable.

cool games

2008-07-28T01:32:00.000-07:00

GI Jonesy Documentary

2008-07-27T02:53:00.000-07:00

This is a very serious video you all need to watch.

Which school of thought are you?

2008-07-25T02:32:00.001-07:00

I'm taking a hepe class. That's for healthy living, not hepatitis. It talks about different philosophies of thought. Which one are you?

Hedonism-all about the pleasure principle. You seek bodily gratification in all it's forms.

Existentialism- Everyone has their own truth. Truth changes for each person. What is true for one may not be true for someone else. What is true for you binds you, but nobody else.

Immaterialism- the mind or spirit is not matter, it is immaterial. Matter is impure, inferior, not ultimately real (the body).

Cartesian dualism- whereas the mind and spirit constitute one reality, the body is something totally apart from the mind. Both somewhat work against eachother.

ascetism- A belief in denying the body for the purpose of freeing the spirit. Sometimes accompanied with gross withdrawal from society and full-fledged skipping into poverty.

materialism- a person is his body. There is no separation between the spirit and the body. Reality ascribed to scientific factuality. Behavior is basically a stimulus response action, and nothing more.

Absolutism (I'm making this one up)- there are ultimate and undeniable truths that apply to everyone. All truth is the same and unchanging.

Okay, get your answer before you read on.

I would say most of you said you were an absolutist so to speak. I would contend however that most of us that are religious actually are more existentialist thinkers, since certain doctrines and prophets teach that the spirit works in different ways for different people. Since there is no one way to get an answer from God, people can get many different types of communications and we would probably accept most of those (non radical of course) as being legitimate. Therefore, there really isn't an absolute truth, since an absolute truth would be the same for everyone, Which our doctrine teaches dissonantly that there is and isn't, since that truth can be communicated in a multitude of ways. What say you?

Jolie Clinches number one

2008-07-20T01:48:00.000-07:00

After a long, arduous, 6 year battle between me and Blake (aka Shibby), Jolie clinches the number one spot on "Ben and Blake's Top 20 Hottest Girls". You make think it shallow we still discuss our female counterparts in such a objectifying way, but let's be honest: We're dudes. And Dudes like Hotts. So, with the following top twenty, I'd like to accompany each one with a quote in the style of DB1 and his blog, www.hotchickswithdouchebags.com.

20: Claire Forlani
Undeniably a fair-lady Hott, one I would take a helicopter ride with across the Ardennes forest while listening to Rachmaninof in G minor.

19: Nicole Scherzinger
Her sultry pouts make me wish I was melting hot suntan lotion dripping down her bronze washboard abs, a washboard just like her immigrant parents did their laundry on back in Afghanistan.

18: Nelly Furtado
Her Promiscuous Girl vid makes me wish I was the black leather belt that she wore in her tight, sweaty Seven jeans. Later back at my place, she'd whip me out and punish me for writing such scandalous remarks.

17: Charlize Theron
If we were both deer, we would frolick together across grassy meadowlands and picturesque mountain horizons, stopping to splash in the occasional glassy pond we'd find hidden among the birch trees.

16: Jennifer Aniston
I dream of when J.A. will take me onto an abandoned set and reprise her role as Rachel Green, go through the seven Monica erogenous zones, whispering them one by one into my ear as we drink a sparkling peach champagne and laugh about how she used to date Brad Pitt. Silly her.

15: Nicole Kidman
Nicole Kidman is like a giant Chocolate Super Ego ice cream stick I want to lick over and over and over again.

14: Evangeline Lilly
Evangeline and I would befriend eachother after surviving a plane crash on a deserted island. There we would play heated games of cat and mouse flirting, eventually leading her to jump me in my tarp shelter one warm summer evening. Afterward, we would listen to the Police while we mused about the philosophies of Taoism and Immaterialism. She would confess that she loved me.

13: Eva Longoria
I want to fly out to Madrid with Eva Longoria in a personal jet, one decked out with alligator leather couches and the finest cognac. After sharing our favorite quotes from 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, we would land just in time to run with the bulls where I would miraculously save her life at the last moment before her untimely demise. Then we would salsa dance in the moonlight, nude. I would return to star in a Spurs playoff game.

12: Heidi Klum
If I had three wishes, one of them would be to turn into the body paint Heidi would wear as a swimsuit on an abandoned beach somewhere in the Caribbean. After our work was done, she would have herself a strawberry daquiri under the shade of a coconut tree, then prance out into the frothy water.

11: Jessica Alba
Dane Cook would back me on this one when I say I would make out with Jessica Alba like I make out with a Fruit Punch Gatorade bottle after running an olympic sized triathlon in the scorching heat of St. George Utah. She would be sweating just as much as myself. We would both be breathing hard.

10: Hilary Duff
Hilary Duff is like all hot Disney princesses, fair maidens, mermaids, combined into one dark eyed enigma Hott.

9: Keira Knightley
Keira and I were meant to be together during the 19th century, when Jane Austen could write about our love. I would be Mr. Darcy and she would be Elizabeth Bennett. I would have a marble statue carved of her in my gallery, drape it fine linens and tapestries from the east and have a string quartet present her with a box of pearls I had recently championed from giant clams.

8: Jessica Biel
I would take Jessica away with me to Austria where I would reveal I was a powerful magician. We would live on a beautiful ranch and I would perform silly, disarming magic tricks that would make her fall more and more deeply in love with me. She would tell me her childhood memories of feeling like an awkward outsider growing up in Colorado, and I would wrap my muscle bound, sinewy figure around her and tell her everything will be alright. The fire would crackle and pop, and she would get up to put another piece of pine onto it. The bear fur blanket around her would fall to the red mahogany floor, and the light would glisten like embers on her skin.

7: Jennifer Connelly
Jennifer is a Hott that would make out with me as aggressively and sloppily as myself eating AYCE barbecue wings at Wingers. She'd only get warmed up after the first couple rounds and then keep coming back for more. Later, we would spoon feed mint chocolate ice cream to eachother. Unfortunately it will have melted by the time we made it to my sail boat, but then we would catch a swift westwardly wind that would take us off the coast of Manhattan where we would gaze at the city lights and listen to John Mayer, a favorite artist we both shared.

6: Linsey Lohan
If this Hott was a piece of meat, she would be a 12 oz. rosy red rare, tender and juicy, fat trimmed away Ribeye steak that would melt in my mouth with each savory Lohanish bite.

5: Anne Hathaway
If I were a torture device, I would shackle Anne to my large cold frame where she would thrash against my strength. Then on a metaphysical level she would realize that we had become one and she would stay with me unfettered. The cold steel would melt away and I would morph into myself in a pillar of light, much like that of Beauty and the beast.

3 and 4: Lauren and Audrina
Lauren and Audrina are like the two sphinx's from The Never Ending Story in that you can't not look at them. They eventually burn you to a blackened crisp but not before you feel like you've taken e intravenously.

2: Kate Beckinsale
I would take Kate for a long horseback ride along the Oregon coast where we would eventually stop for a picnic of tossed spinach with Raspberry Vinagrette, marinated chicken breast, a pesto penne pasta cooked al dente, and sparkling cider. Then we would name constellations after eachother under the darkened sky. Each kiss we shared would be so passionate that she would cry afterward and christen it with a name like opulent fire or tears of unicorn.

1: Angelina Jolie
If I were God, Angelina would pick me up in her black Lamborghini Countach, manual, where we would zip along Highway 15 all the way to Vegas. After watching the light show at the Bellagio hand in hand with live music from Andre Borcelli and the Chicago Orchestra, we would attend several magic shows from the likes of David Copperfield, David Blaine, and Chris Angel. Later that night, after our passionate love making, she would inform me that in fact she REALLY WAS part of a secret society of assassins and that I was chosen to lead them all as the one. I would tell her there is no spoon, and I was ready to take on whatever shananigans bad guys were up to now days. But unfortunately she would have fallen too hard for me, and confes she had left Brad Pitt for me. We would then adopt seven little Korean babies and spend the rest of our days in Ludwig's castle in Germany, playing croquet, eating crumpets and sipping tea.

Passenger

2008-07-15T01:12:00.000-07:00

Where are you?
Cuz you’re not here
give up your addiction
shed no more tears

I know that armor
That shield of that face
And you’re eyes tell me
You’re in a different place

The arteries are everywhere
Most everything’s connected
the poison pulses in you
And you remain infected

Where’s your cheeks?
the ones of ample color
Maybe they’ll return
when there’s another

My words are small
Like fireflies at night
when an old book
needs a little light

It doesn’t really matter
When you need the end
Just keep on driving
Up around this bend.

The Seer Stone

2008-07-13T23:46:00.000-07:00

I guess a lot of people find something they want to really believe as being fantastic, and then reinforce those beliefs with actions and justifications. I have been pondering a lot on how there are certain ideas that appeal to us because they are warm and fuzzy. The prescience of the afterlife as being happy and peaceful is an idea that would appeal to anyone, much like the idea of being wealthy or living forever or having the power of flight. When you think about your desires, or envision yourself having them, you naturally feel good. The power of visualization is extremely potent, and can make us feel as if those things were happening to us or would happen to us in the future.
On the flipside, thinking that there is no afterlife, war and genocide, death, or monsters, have the same effect with different accompanying emotions. Visualization of these instances yield solemnity, melancholy, fear, and sadness to the same degree our desires yield more positive emotions.
So, we have established that certain ideas we think about can infuse us with certain emotions. What do our emotions tell us in these instances? They tell us what we like to think about and what we don’t. Do they provide insight to what is real and what isn’t? No, because we can feel good about flying but it doesn’t mean we can, and we feel bad about monsters but that doesn’t make them real. It also doesn’t show what is make-believe, since we feel good about being wealthy, (which is within reach via the requisite amount of effort), and we feel sad about genocide and war, which are both happening virulently throughout human civilization. Our emotions, being consistent for both true and fantastic situations both positive and negative, tells us nothing about either set of circumstances.
For this reason, it is difficult for me to understand how religions imbue communication from God with these types of emotions. It is a natural procession of thought and of human nature to want to believe in things that perpetuate or increase our happiness. It is natural to want to avoid the opposite. Couched in other terms, if I knew that there was no afterlife, I would still feel good thinking about one existing. Therefore, assigning the reality of a particular set of circumstances to the way one feels about them is irrational and frankly unfounded.
This does not mean that feeling good or bad about something that is unknown automatically means it isn’t true or is, it just means we have no reason to use our emotions as a truth-meter.
I understand that this is a controversial idea, and accept fully that I could (nay, probably) am wrong in supposing this (see my blog on C.S. Lewis’ convincing evidence that emotion IS the way god communicates).
Using an example from my own religion, early on in the church Hiram Page had a seer stone that he used to receive faux revelations from God. This led many people to follow him, including Oliver Cowdery and the Whitmer family. People obviously felt strong emotions that what was presented to them was in fact real. We know they couldn't have felt bad or doubt about Hiram, since if they did they wouldn't have believed him. Therefore they felt warm, good, and positive feelings that what he was telling them was from God. As the church history goes however, Joseph Smith corrected their mistake and they eventually acknowledged they had been misled. To me, this seems a prime example of emotions leading us astray.
It just seems wrong to me that emotions, being fuzzy, nebulous, sporadic, and unclear, are the primary way that a supreme being would communicate the most important truth to his subjects or creations. I just think there should be more than that.
Comments are welcome from any of my four faithful readers who trudge through my musings.

photos

2008-07-11T01:25:00.000-07:00

I was reminded reading K's blog, looking at her photos, that I had a theory on photos. That theory is this:

Our mind records different experiences we go through, and we remember those from a first person view. Everytime we think of them, we renew that synapse and solidify it.

If we take photos of different experiences, looking at those photos removes the effort to recall certain memories. Our synapses weaken, and instead of remembering the actual event, we end up just remembering the photo. So when thinking of a great fishing trip and how you fell overboard, everytime you think of the memory, you just remember the fake pose of you and your crew standing on the dock.

Just a thought.

A Few Poems

2008-07-11T01:04:00.000-07:00

These were a few poems I've been working on.

Blackfoot Reservoir

Dad hoists the trailer ball joint from the pickup
While I write in the dirt on the Chevrolet bumper
Mom tidies up our one room motel, the kitchen table
Juxtaposing into the bedroom. After grabbing the fishing rods and
Tackle box, we set to work making camp.

Dad teaches me how to cast a line into the water
I try so hard to get it far
Mom seems to have a calming tonic quality
As she reads to me during the wind storm
Which swoops in and stole our green and white
Lawn chairs.

“Smoke follows beauty,” uncle Jerry says
As I run around the campfire
My marshmallow bobbing up and down
Like the red and white sphere on my fishing line
Cast in the Blackfoot reservoir. Water
Chops against a beach of mossy rocks.

When they yell and holler, “fish!”
I drop my Garfield comic book
Onto the gold speckled café table
(the one we play poker on)
And skip through the miniature boulders
To rip the pole from its holster and yank it back.

I never listen to the stories
Told around our campfire;
I always have my face in a bowl of aunt Myrna’s chili
And my hands full of tang mugs and hot dogs.
At night I sit in mom’s lap or on Dad’s knee.
They both wear hats. Mom’s

was a woven straw straw hat, straight bill
all the way around, with a ripped strand
of flowery linen wrapped around the middle.
Dad sports a sweaty baseball cap with dried
Salt stains all around its faded white interior.
It mats down his hair.

In the mornings I awake from my cozy sleeping bag
To a damp, but sharp morning. Hot cocoa
And Aunt Ellen’s warm maple syrupy pancakes
Keep me warm. We play dice and cribbage
All day, watching the poles and reeling in
Rainbow trout here and there. The Wind still scares me.

When Jerry and Myrna left for home,
In their yellow camping van
I watch it shrink along the dusty road
Rumbling through the weeds.
I don’t realize it will be our last camping trip
Together, at least for awhile.

....

Looking Back

I wore your favorite shirt of mine
Today it still has the pesto stain
From when I made you dinner
Washed over and over again
I used everything to get it out
Catches my attention in restroom
Mirrors and reflective car finishes
I see in the parking lot.

My friends tiptoe around you
Afraid your name will conjure
Emotions that will vex me
Instill a demonic possession of my body
Unable to escape from my mind
And ravage me like a lion
Riled by the circus master before
The Friday Night performance.

I once learned, though stars die their
Light can still be seen for hundreds of
Thousands of years after since its journey to
Earth takes so long. I still
happen upon your Memories,
glancing through my mind’s telescope
though you’ve been gone
Longer than your
Presence.

So I still look back and glance behind me
My introspection asks Watson for his take
On the puzzle unsolved and our motives.
I rewrite the history, and imbue it on
Love stories and angry songs
So it relates to me, and sometimes I can still
Catch the glimmer of your eye
And hint of your smile in a
Dream.

....

The Arrow

A Bedouin once said of his Arabian horse
I hang happiness on the forelock
Between your eyes

He spoke centuries before
A Timbered Gift was
Abandoned on the sequestered Shore
Of an Empire called Helena.

Achilles dropped from the wooden belly
Sweat dripped from his golden hair
And gleamed in the moonlight
On his skin, taught around muscles bare,
Tense, and primed to slaughter.

He cut through Trojan flesh with his blade
His lips and hands a bright red.
The bones of his enemies trembled,
Then shattered against his fists.
They sputtured weezing breaths,
Before ceding to the abyss.

Achilles caught the boy running
First with his eyes, then hands.
He gripped the lad’s tunic and held him closely.
Kill him, he thought, but knew it unjust
The voice of the devil inside.
Instead, he heaved him upon his shoulder,
Escaping them from deaths tide.

His run through the burning walls was trenchant,
Dodging the arrows, and the bodies
Falling around him like fog at sea
Nostalgia, his wife, and two children
Filled his mind
He would return to his home on the shore,
Know happiness with his love,
And fill his children’s heads with stories and lore.

He placed the crying infant on the ground
Of mortared stones caked with rubble
And looked at him, enough to see the boy flinch.
Achilles heard the bow snap
And felt the arrow cut the air
Before it struck him.
He saw the man, Paris, upon a balcony linger,
Hoist another arrow into the string
Pull his weapon taught
And wince as he let it fling.

There was no armor that protected Achilles
After the first wound
Though he wore Sparta’s best
From an old blacksmith’s fire.
The second arrow pierced his belly
Through the metal it went, and through the skin
Achilles looked down and saw the shaft
Pine from the forests of Helena
The same wood which the Trojan horse was craft.

Three more arrows took down the man
They once called a God
He lay prostrate on the floor
Of a kingdom crashing on top of him.
He barely heard the cries
Of the young boy at his left
Or of his army signaling victory outside.
The warrior drifted off, and slept.

Comrades stormed the hall
To finish off their task.
They stumbled upon their leader and
barely felt the heat of the sun
Pierce through the smoky sky.
It was bloody red, and the warriors looked on in silence,
Bidding their brother a final goodbye.

They carried Achilles through the decomposed city.
Doorways looked like gaping, groaning mouths,
And burning rooftops parched for water.
His weight upon their shoulders a heavy yoke
For the once undefeated was defeated
They wondered if their spell was broke.

....

My Wallet

The bank
In my pocket
Secure leather vaults
Always willing to open
For a dependable investor
But as a borrower
Though I have several forms of
Identification,
Will never lend me cash
When Great Depressions hit

My Fourth of July Experience

2008-07-10T22:22:00.000-07:00

Most know I sell fireworks. Almost every year since I can remember, I have been a salesman. When I was younger, I would hide in the large package boxes underneath the shelves, and always try ways to keep the doors shut because I didn't like the wind knocking over the fountains. Our family has seen the rise and fall of firework acclaim in Idaho Falls, Idaho, from hoards lining up at our opening day at the Golden Dragon Firework stand, to the seven days of solitude with an occasional solicitation for free fireworks from an ADD adolescent without caring parents.
This year, as I became more and more jaded with firework sales, it finally came time to shut down the stand and head off to watch the fireworks. Mom and I packed up all the signs and lowered the doors, set the alarms, and drove the two miles to park in a gas station lot. It was here we would watch the acclaimed Melaleuca Firework show. The clouds had cleared, and the final luminations from the sun gradually faded and gave way to a darkness that buzzed with a rising excitement like radiation from the ground. You know, like when you're driving and you look towards the horizon and the ground waves back and forth from the emanating heat waves.
Anyway, we tuned into KLCE 97.3, the official station for the firework show soundtrack, and reclined our leather F-350 bucket seats. The show had begun.
I couldn't shake a meloncholy cloud out of my head. The fireworks were extravagant. The shells erupted with brilliant greens and sparkling blues and reds. Some of them would shower down like weeping willow branches, or explode into the shapes of planets and hearts. We listened to Lee Greenwood's raspy and moving, "I'm proud to be an American" and the symphony piece from Yani. I reflected on many things, and was reminded of my time in England when I stood next to a monument to Rupert Brooke, and remembered his own patriotism for his country, imbued on the words of his poem, "The Soldier":

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Amidst all of the corporate and commercial viruses that infect this country, the exponentiation of our population and destruction of space and privacy, the staggering rise of the cost of living, and general cynicism experienced here, I love America. And I'm proud to be here.

I also thought about the people in my life I'm surrounded by and how lucky, blessed, I am to know them. I have the greatest family, the greatest peers, teachers, mentors, role models, ... I thought, as bombs continued to burst in the air, how emotions can affect ones actions and how, on many occasions, my emotions blurred my vision and caused me to say and do things inappropriate or uncalled for.

Why my mind went to this I don't know. I recognize a great parallel from the movie "Definitely, Maybe" where William Hayes lets his life go to shit, confesses his love for April in a drunken stupor, and then insults her. He didn't mean it. He also made a huge error in keeping her father's book for so long, but his heart was good. I hope that in the movie of my life, viewers can realize that I'm not perfect, and sometimes my emotions speak over my own voice. I don't think we can blame our emotions; we just recognize is for what it is.

It's funny what makes you intimate on certain things, and it seems that certain thoughts and emotions tie themselves to eachother. I guess my gratitude humbled me and the dissonance of being thankful for everyone and disappointed in certain actions of mine made me sad. What have I to do but blog about it?