Why I Believe in Santa Claus

On our most recent black Friday shopping spree, my dad purchased a DVD-R machine. The subsequent Saturday and Sunday were spent figuring out how to make the darn thing work. After actually breaking down and reading the manual, things went along quite swimmingly, and we started transferring all of our old, recorded-from-TV Christmas specials from VHS to DVD. We got through "A Charlie Brown Christmas," "Mickey's Christmas Carol," "Frosty the Snowman," and "Little Drummer Boy" before arriving at what must be my favorite Christmas special of all time: "Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus." Sure, it's cheesy (and cheap) animation, but the story is absolutely thrilling. I still get chills when I hear the narrator read Francis Church's response to Virginia's letter:

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. [. . .]

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. [. . .]

No Santa Claus! Thank GOD! He lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

After reading those words, you might well imagine the shock I felt reading Ben's post on the Santa Myth. How could anyone believe encouraging belief in Santa Claus really be as dangerous as all that? Is Santa, in effect, the anti-Christ, in that he takes the place of the Savior in our holiday celebration?

Of course, you must have guessed my position on this issue by now, but humor me by allowing me to explicate further. No, I do not believe that encouraging children to believe in Santa Claus is wrong; on the contrary, my family is very strong about keeping up the Santa tradition. We hang signs that say, "This house believes," and threaten to take away presents from those who refuse to admit belief in Santa Claus. It's flat heresy to utter the words "Santa's not real" in our house.

In defence of this point of view, I would say these anti-Santa advocates have made one crucial mistake in their logic: they equate encouraging belief in the unreal with lying. I would argue that these are not the same at all, that while of course the second is wrong, the first is harmless, necessary, even healthy.

This willful suspension of disbelief is a wonderful and glorious part of our human experience. Besides Santa Claus, we see this technique commonly used with ghost stories and urban legends. A suspension of disbelief is necessary to maintaining these tales: who would enjoy listening to ghost stories without the narrator's insistance that they were real? The story cannot possibly have the same chilling effect if we know it is imaginary. Only when we are absolutely convinced that the story actually happened to someone's aunt's friend does it strike terror into our hearts.

The same way with Santa Claus: should we insist on asserting that Santa is completely fictional, the magical anticipation of Christmas morning would disappear. No child would anxiously look out the window, mistaking the blinking light of a satilite for the glow of Rudolph's nose, then dive into bed, furiously trying to sleep so she won't be caught awake when Santa comes. I look back on my true believing days with nostalgia and contentment. It is an experience that can be gained in no other way--to believe in something completely and utterly trivial. I maintain that it is a healthy and natural part of life, not to be disturbed because of rare and horrifying stories of children whose faith in Christ is damaged by Santa.

Of course, it is a pleasure that can be had only for a short while. When the dawn comes and the ghost-story teller reveals their craft, the magic is over. Once we first glimpse our Santa Claus presents in the storage closet, the opportunity for that magic in the world is gone. But simply because it cannot exist forever, should we shut down the experience entirely? No, no more than we would deny the beauty of a snowstorm or spring flowers because their presence was only temporary.

Additionally, this belief in Santa serves as a praticing ground for belief in Christ. If we can't believe in Santa Claus, who leaves us physical gifts every year, how can we find faith in Christ? It is essentially an exercise in what faith is--learning to believe without seeing. It's something that's difficult to gain experience in doing, and yet we must find a way to do it. Santa seems as good a method as any.

This aspect is, of course, what primarily concerns the anti-Santa league: isn't it wrong to have faith in something that doesn't exist? Aren't we setting kids up to believe that their faith in Christ will turn out the same way as their faith in Santa?

Obviously, I would argue no. We must develop faith in many things in this life which let us down--other people, for one. This practice faith is necessary. The world would be quite an awful place if we never trusted anyone. Of course we all recognize this faith should never supercede our faith in the one person who will never let us down, Christ. But when Christ told us not to trust in the arm of flesh, I much doubt that he meant we shouldn't trust other people. It's a warning of proportion, not absolutes.

As to the more general opposition of the materialistic and spiritual sides of Christmas, maybe I'm unique in that I've never had a problem with that. Even the materialistic gift-giving of Christmas was always redirected towards spiritual growth. For me, the search for the perfect gift--not just something that they want, but something that they need and that also says something about your special connection as family or friends--is as much an exercise in developing charity as any service project could be, perhaps more because it is undertaken not from necessity but from desire. When else will you spend hours in several different stores, thinking only of your friend and how much you love them?

And besides the gift-giving aspect, all of the other Christmas symbols, un-Christ-centered though they may be, serve to bind us together as a culture. We can laugh with almost anyone when we remember the terribly cheap animation of the Christmas specials or the tune of a familiar Christmas song. These things unify us across all other barriers--bridging social capital, if you will. And is not unity something Christ would have us develop? If we are not one, of course, we are not his.

That said, there's a very interesting Orson Scott Card Christmas short story called "Homeless in Hell," which is about the Santa issue. The message is one we can all agree on: the Santa tradition is a healthy and righteous thing, so long as it does not supercede Christ.

Traa-di-shon! Tradition!

Yeah, I guess it’s been a while since I posted. Well, in case you didn’t catch it in the comments in Thursday’s post, my boyfriend and I broke up. So I’ve been trying to avoid doing too much thinking, which means a decrease in blog posts. Don’t worry, I’m feeling much better thanks to my amazing roommates, and of course there’s no cure for break-up blues like the holidays, so I’m back.

So about the holidays: I highly doubt if anyone could find a more tradition-bound family than mine at this time of year. Almost all of my mom’s siblings’ families live within an hour drive of my grandmother’s house in East Millcreek, so we get together a lot during the holidays. (More than usual—the extended family gets together at least twice a month as it is. I miss them when I’m stuck in Provo.) And the 30-40 of us can sure have a lot of fun. Who needs friends when you have family? Anyway, as a result of spending massive amounts of time together, traditions just seem to spring out of nowhere. Almost every single day of this season has its own special traditions.

The day before Thanksgiving is officially known as Pie Day in the Miller family. We fill the kitchen of my grandmother’s house with enough estrogen to scare away men for miles around. Large amounts of Chinese food are consumed as the pies are prepared for Thanksgiving and a Christmas movie plays in the background. This year we only needed sixteen pie crusts, a record low, I think. There was one year we made over 30 pies. In order to chill all the pie dough, we had to empty out the ice cube maker in the freezer. An unsuspecting uncle wandered in looking for a glass of water and ended up with a glass full of pie crust—in the Miller family, we have pie crust on tap!

Then Thanksgiving itself: we usually cook a couple turkeys in several different ways. My uncle Dennis, when he was alive, would always deep-fry a turkey. Holy cow is that good stuff! This year we had a brined turkey in addition to the normal roasted version. We usually have about 40 pounds of mashed potatoes—can’t risk running out. Lots of homemade rolls and cranberry sauce. But my favorite traditional food is rainbow jello. I made it this year—it takes about 3 hours—and it was really good.

After dinner, we laze around for a few hours. There’s usually a Christmas craft project—candy advent calendars this year—and football on the TV. Everyone continues snitching food, grazing as their stomachs settle down. In a few hours, we’ll clear everything off and set out the pies. Once we’ve all had pie, we officially open the Christmas season by singing along to “Sleigh Ride” by the Osmonds—not “Jingle Bells/Sleigh Ride,” the real “Sleigh Ride.” You can’t get it on CD. We had to get it transferred from the record. :D Anyway, we all sing at the top of our lungs, doing the air guitar and sliding up to high falsetto parts. It’s great! That song means Christmas and family in my mind. When I’m feeling homesick, I’ll turn it on, be it December or July. Then we draw names for the Christmas gift exchange.

My dad and I always do Black Friday shopping together. The last few hours of Thanksgiving day are spent perusing the newspaper ads, planning our attack strategy. This year we were up at 3:30 AM, outside Circuit City at 4, inside at 5, and out at 5:30. We did pretty well: I got a 1 GB SD memory card for $3, a 1 GB flash drive for $4, and a 7 megapixel digital camera for $130. We managed to also hit Target ($4 DVDs, newer releases too), FYE (the new Media Play—I picked up some new headphones and got to talk to a really interesting lady in the line. She works for the railroad.), and RC Willey (Marisa—we have a new DVD player! How much do you love me?). All in all, it was a pretty good year for the bargain hunters. To me, it’s like a game to plan the best strategy for dodging the crowds in the stores and to guess which items will go first. Yeah, it’s a little materialistic and, oh, insane, but then again, it’s way fun and I save a bunch of money.

The holidays are sort of a weird time for me. Usually, I value my alone time a lot. I'm quite "solitary as an oyster." (You better know where that's from.) But during Christmas, I can't get enough of people. I just want to be around them. We don't necessarily have to do anything; it's enough just to be. To quote a Christmas classic: "I’m crowded, but at least I’m loved."

Job Satisfaction and Football

Today I went to the game with my dad, my grandma, and my brother, and the coolest thing happened. My brother and I were sitting the student section, and between plays, this guy five people down from us turns to me and says, "You work at the Writing Center, right?"

"Um, yeah. I thought I recognized you from somewhere."

"You helped me write a really awesome paper last semester. I totally got an A on it. You guys rock!"

"Thanks."

"I just figured you'd like to know, since you guys probably don't get a lot of feedback on the results."

I love my job.

I've also decided I really enjoy football games. I don't know why, since my knowledge of the sport is limited to what a down is and that it's good to move forward and not back. I just like watching it. Football and basketball are the two sports I can actually stand to watch for their entire duration. If I wasn't such a cheapskate, I would probably buy the all-sports pass just for the football tickets. :D

And did anyone else think that all the fans waving little white towels sort of looked like they were doing the hosanna shout, like at a temple dedication? . . . Okay, maybe that's just me.

Snowflakes

Wow! I just found SnowDays, via a link from Orson Scott Card's column. This looks like a really good time waster. :D

Meditation on Christ through Art

For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee.

In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the LORD thy Redeemer.

For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the LORD that hath mercy on thee.
- Isaiah 54:7-8,10

I've just come back from visiting to new "Beholding Salvation" exhibit at the MoA. It was such an amazing exhibit: my words are certainly inadequate to describe it, but I can't resist the attempt.

The experience was breathtaking. I have a certain fascination with Christian art. Something about the iconography of it all is so very attractive. I get chills just hearing the names of the typical scenes: the annunciation, the nativity, the adoration, the last supper, the stations of the cross, the passion, the pieta. Knowing the little details about the traditional symbols--enclosed gardens for Mary, keys for Peter, an eagle for John, nails for Thomas--makes them that more meaningful. The power of symbols, and art in general, cannot be overestimated. And seeing all these different ways of looking at the Savior is amazing.

I particularly liked the tomb and resurrection rooms at the end of the exhibit. The life-size dead Christ is harrowing. And I know I'll spend many hours the next few semesters contemplating "Jesus and Mary, After." Very haunting and powerful. And "Christ at the Pool of Bethesda" . . . something just clicks inside me when I see it. I also really like the two more abstract paintings--the one with the red and white cloth and three bowls and the one with two chairs--full of all sorts of meanings.

In the passion room, one of the little plaques defined the word "passion" as meaning to suffer or to submit, very interesting to consider in the context of our modern use of the word passion. When we have a passion for something, we suffer not only when it is gone, but also while we are with it. Love, as some have pointed out to me, is not something that's very pleasant to have. People in love are often miserable, especially when they are separated from their beloved. Love involves connecting your happiness to something outside and beyond your control. To love as Christ loves is to willingly submit to that pain and then rise triumphant again.

And you can feel that intense love in this exhibit. The second I walked in, I had a feeling of complete comfort and safety. It was as though even taking the time to be in a place where I could contemplate the Savior had afforded me the comfort and protection He promises us. In those paintings and sculptures, I truly felt enfolded in the arms of my Savior--safe from loneliness and fear. I longed to simply sit there for hours, feeling that warmth and contemplating the atonement in my life.

This exhibit caused me to remember something about the atonement that I tend to forget. The atonement is not only for our past: it is for now. It is not only for our sins, but also for our triumphs; not only for our sorrows, but also for our joys. Christ reaches out to us in so many ways to enfold our minds and our hearts, to lift us up not only out of sin but onto higher and better things. I feel His influence in my life in everything I do from the worshipful to the mundane, and because of it, everything I do expands out to become more than I intended, more than I could do on my own.

Stability and Writing

As Katherine points out, the conversations we have during downtimes at the writing center are interesting, to say the least. Today, for instance, two of my coworkers and I covered in a single conversation topics ranging from psychologists (necessary, helpful, or evil?), the relationship of guilt and stress to achievement, the role of mothers and the problems therein, and whether insanity/instability is a necessary part of being a brilliant writer.

It's on this last point that I'm still sorting out my thoughts. The consensus seemed to be that you can be a good writer and a normal person, but most of the best writers will be tragically unstable and unhappy. Now, I acknowledge there's a definite correlation between an unhappy personal life and brilliant writing--look up the biography of the majority of canonical writers and you'll find a host of cruel families, unhappy love lives, suicidal tendencies, and anything else you'd care to imagine.

Yet I can't bring myself to believe there's necessarily a connection between the two. As anyone with a basic knowledge of statistics will note, a correlation between two variables says nothing about which causes which, or if a causal relationship even exists. The most current example would be the hilarious campaign revolving around the correlation between reduced amounts of piracy and increases in global temperatures. Clearly, it makes no logical sense to say one brings about the other, though the correlation is evident. If there’s any connection at all, they're probably both influenced by some hidden variable, say technological advances. So the fact that many great writers have been unstable is, at best, only anecdotal evidence of some connection between the two factors. (Granted, in the English department, anecdotal evidence is pretty much what we do. But indulge the science portion of my brain for a moment.)

Continuing the statistical analogy, I wonder if the relationship between brilliant writers and tortured writers comes by means of a hidden variable, namely, writers are always better when they have something essential to write about. No matter how eloquent your prose, if your topics are shallow or trivial, it's simply not going to become "great." Interesting and amusing, certainly, but great writing must inherently deal with the great matters of human existence. And a tortured personal life does certainly bring about a wealth of vital topics. All human beings, at one point or another, doubt their sanity, deal with failed relationships, and distrust the fairness of the universe, so these topics make the level of greatness more easily accessible. However, insanity or instability is by no means the only method of arriving at vitally important material. Religious devotion, scholarly study, and everyday observation can also bring about the consideration of humanity in all its forms.

In fact, writing driven by instability seems to me to be limiting rather than enabling. Writers motivated by personal angst are stuck within a realm of self, continually confronting the same issues of self-concept and depression in their writing, never able to move on to something of greater scope. Granted, there is infinity to explore within ourselves, but infinity also exists outside ourselves. Ought we to neglect one for the other? Introspection certainly has its place, but it’s not the only thing to write about. But I guess that’s my personal bias--I prefer considering the broad human condition rather than the local.

Another factor is the confusion of the esoteric with the brilliant. Just because something is hard to understand does not make it good writing. It's (relatively) easy to write something so esoteric that it seems profound because no one else can get it. It's a much more difficult and worthwhile task to write something so intensely clear and powerful that everyone knows exactly what you mean from the second they read it. And not something on low level, either. You must take an abstract, difficult concept and make it so obvious, clear, and simple without letting your audience know. (See, of course, CS Lewis.) In my opinion, this was the original function of poetry, and by extension literature: not to be obtuse and mysterious, but to be so dazzlingly clear as to appear prototypical. This is one problem I have in my own writing. It would be so easy to write something mysterious--pregant with general feeling but lacking a specific message. But I'd rather spend the time to make my meaning painfully specific and clear, clear enough to unite the minds of the writer and the reader for one moment. (I know this is a large enough heresy against the English department that it might take another post to fully justify, but work with me.)

But the most pressing reason that I reject this idea is that I simply don't believe that the goals of being a brilliant writer and a happy, fulfilled individual should be mutually exclusive. For me, creating art is a part of the gospel, one method of our pursuit of divine and eternal knowledge, creation on a small scale. I can’t believe that anything as good, true, and healthy as art could be incompatible with joy and happiness. It feels unnatural and untrue.

Diversions

Ah, humor is all around us. Check out this NPR interview with the guys who do the voice-overs for political attack ads. I really like their 'negative' readings of the nursery rhymes. :D Humpty Dumpty is indeed a waste of tax-payers' dollars.

And from the do-it-yourself page at Despair.com, some words of truth:

Politics

Fine, fine. I'll follow the crowd, though I must admit to being mildly suprised . . . . I guess this explains why Not Too Pensive, Katherine, and I can't agree in an argument. But we'd make a great joke: A capitalist, a socialist, and a totalitarian walk into a blog . . . .

I guess I shouldn't be that surprised, since my group in Honors 201 decided that Christ would be totalitarian dictator. (Long story.)

You are a Social Conservative (26% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (38% permissive) You are best described as a: Totalitarian Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

Audio Reviews

When I was in high school, I had a half-hour commute to school. I would always listen to KSL's news program in the morning and Sean Hannity in the afternoons. (Don't worry: I've since repented of my Sean Hannity addiction.) I really enjoyed it because it took no extra effort and I always felt highly informed. I really miss the news now that I walk to school instead of driving. It felt so . . . productive.

I've been trying to revive my audio addiction with podcasts. This would probably work better if I actually went out and bought an Mp3 player, or at least some memory for my cell phone's audio player. (Hey! Black Friday is coming. Maybe I'll buy some this year, if the sales are good enough and I don't sleep through my alarm.) But there's some pretty good stuff out there, even if it's hard to find. Here's a run down of my current must-listen list:

• Ask a Ninja - Um, hello? Random advice from ninjas? Ninature golfing and ninterships? Okay, so it's not informative, but whatever. It's still hilarious and the video is fairly well done. :D I highly recommend the "Pirates 2" review--even if you haven't seen the movie.
• BYU Recent Talks - For obvious reasons.
  
• Grammar Girl - More like "Usage Girl" but I can see the need to go for the alliteration. Anyway, Grammar Girl covers all sorts of fun usage issues. This week it was whether "woman" can be used as an adjective, as in "Nancy Pelosi is the first woman speaker of the house." (Answer: No. You wouldn't say call someone a "man physician." Plus we have a perfectly good adjective for this already: female. I didn't used to care about this until I created my amazing handout on sexist language for ELang 322. Now I find it very interesting . . . .) The podcast is very well done, and she does her research on usage issues. I may not switch from using "that" to "who" because of it, but it's still interesting to know.
• Mr. Manners - Run by the same people as Grammar Girl, and it's just as high quality. Very interesting perspectives on manners. Only two episodes so far. The first--on toasting--was academically interesting, although not very applicable, but I highly recommend the second episode, which is on (of all things) holding doors open! Mr. Manners expresses my view on the subject much more clearly than I was able to. He even discusses how to deal with "anti-chivalry doors!" (Apparently, don't bother, unless it's a date or the person is unable to open the door themselves. Then, don't rush for the second door; simply say, "Please, allow me," so that the person knows your intentions. Hyper-adorable!)
• Pottercast - Yes, a 90-minute news program every week about Harry Potter. I bet you didn't know there was that much to say. Oh, there is. Plus, it has the inestimable John Noe. Horcri, indeed.

And in un-podcast-related media, check out Will It Blend. My uncle is representing this guy in a copyright lawsuit, and his videos are hilarious. I really like the golf balls one. :D

Knocking on the Door

I had an interesting idea for a short story in Relief Society today. It's a sort of allegory using passing a course as a metaphor for faith, works, and the atonement. I know, it sounds cliche, but at least I'm writing about what I know. :D

Anyway, it's turning out fairly well, but this story has had the annoying complication of forcing me to work through my evasion of going to see professors. Basically, I hate asking for help or dealing with people who know more than me. Observe this only slightly fictionalized chain of thought that goes through my head when I go to see a professor:

Later that day, she pulled out her syllabus and found the location of the instructor’s office. She circled it determinately with her ballpoint pen and set forth to the office building. As she walked down the stern hallway, important professors rushed back and forth on their academic errands. Bulletin boards hung on the walls, explaining the research projects of various professors, but the language was so complicated that she didn’t understand a word of it. Even the jokes and comic strips—posted on various professors’ doors to make them more inviting—only confused her.

And then, suddenly, there it was: the instructor’s door. She reached out her hand to knock, but then paused. She felt so out of place. There weren’t any other students here, only the professors. They all knew so much more than her that it seemed hopeless that she should even attempt to reach their level. Too much had happened before she had even been born—eons and eons of history, of experiment, of thought—so much material and not enough time to learn it all. How could they possibly expect her to sort through all the knowledge of humanity and, in addition, create something new? Compared to the problems of the centuries, the instructor would think all of her questions and worries so small and insignificant. He probably couldn’t remember what it was like not to know these things, and it would be a waste of his time to teach her. If she couldn’t understand these little things, she was just a lost cause, not worth the training that it would take to get her to a higher level. Who actually visited the instructor anyway? She was in college. She was supposed to be old enough to do things on her own. It was her responsibility. Knocking on the door would mean admitting she couldn’t do it, that she was a failure, that she was not prepared.

Just as she was about to turn away, the door swung backward beneath her hand. Standing in the doorway was the instructor, with a knowing, but friendly, smile on his face.

“I’ve been waiting for someone to come,” he said, motioning her inside. Embarrassed to be caught in her hesitation, she slumped into the seat in front of the instructor’s desk. He sat back in the swivel chair behind the desk, leaning back with his hands in his lap. “You know, I sit in my office so many hours a day, and yet so few of my students seem to find their way up here.”

“I didn’t want you to know I couldn’t do it on my own.”

“You weren’t meant to do it on your own.”

Now, I do usually get the jokes on the professors' doors, but the rest is pretty much true. Sometimes I think it would have been so much easier to have been born in an earlier century, when there was less to learn and more to discover. And I know the professors are really there to help us learn, but I simply can't get it drilled into my mind. Going to see a professor always seems like an admission of failure on my part. It's like a bluffing game in which I finally have to admit I don't have all the right cards. And I hate it. I guess it's mostly pride, since I build my identity on knowing things. :D

Anyone else follow this train of thought? Any suggestions on asking for help?

Middle Woman

Ah-Cheu was a woman of the great kingdom of Ch'in, a land of hills and valleys, a land of great wealth and dire poverty. But Ah-Cheu was a middle person, neither rich nor poor, neither old nor young, and her husband's farm was half in the valley and half on the hill. Ah-Cheu has a sister older than her, and a sister younger than her, and one lived thirty leagues to the north, and the other lived thirty leagues to the south. "I am a middle woman," Ah-Cheu boasted once, but her husband's mother rebuked her, saying, "Evil comes to the middle, and good goes out to the edges."
-"Middle Woman," Orson Scott Card

I guess the real thing I was getting at in my "Insecurities of a Jack" post is that lately I feel like a middle woman, moreso at this point in my life than at other times. I'm neither entirely ignorant nor astoundingly intellectual, neither committed science geek or philosophical humanities student, neither flamingly liberal or staunchly conservative. I don't read the cannon classics or the pulp fiction, but in between. I'm envious of those who can be obsessive fans of something, for I find myself on the borders between fandom and normality. I am a middle woman.

It's not that I don't have firm opinions, because I do. It's just that most of them happen to be firmly in the middle. Everything I've learned has lead me to believe that's where the truth is (see the Circle Theory). But to the people out on the edges, I appear wishy-washy and bland.

In theory, it's a great place to be. The middle is more objective, the middle can try anything, the middle can camoflage itself. But it feels so fake. I'm on the fringes of so many different communities, but part of none of them. Gamers, anime fans, science researchers, English researchers, high culture, low culture, political culture--I've got enough of each to understand what they are talking about, but I never really get out there and commit myself. I balance on the edges, watching and observing.

Which brings me to the excerpt from "Middle Woman." I love the story overall, but I've always wondered about that line: "Evil comes to the middle, and good goes out to the edges." It simply doesn't make sense to me. Good comes to all the edges, no matter how different they are, leaving out only the middle, which is a little like all of them?

And then I wonder if it has something to do with the parable of the unjust steward. Am I only in the middle because I lack the zeal or courage to settle on a direction and move out towards it? Does evil come to the middle because it is afraid?

Meta-Post

Hey, you! Yes, you. I know you're reading this blog. Or rather, I don't, and that's why I want some information out of you.

Basically, I spent an hour or two converting my blog over to Blogger-Beta. While doing so, I got to reread a lot of my old posts, and now I'm in the mood to move the furniture around in my metaphorical blogging room. I'm doing some brainstorming about the nature of this blog--reconsidering what it's all about--and I'm looking for some feedback from you, my presumably existant readers.

The main idea that I've been toying with is creating some sort of regular schedule of topics. For instance, Tuesdays have already informally become BYU devotional/forum days, when I comment on the BYU speech of the day. Literary essays and science/technology essays could fill another two days. Saturdays might be for serial long essays, including some of my dwindling essay series like "In Defense of the English Major" and "Thoughts on Homosexuality," along with some new topics I've been thinking about like "A Mormon Literature" and "Storyingtelling and Science."

But are you guys at all interested in hearing about more stuff like that? How about my more esoteric posts--the ones focused on my life rather than on idealistic issues? I sometimes wonder if anyone cares to read those or if you simply find them boring. Or maybe it's the other way around, and you'd rather hear more about me and less about my philosophies.

So, fire me off a comment. At the very least, just write a three word comment letting me know you're lurking out there. I recognize that the point of the internet is that I don't know if you read this or not, but the curiosity is overwhelming me. Do it 'cause you love me? Please? If you're feeling up to it, you could also let me know what you think of my blog:

• What do you like best? What needs to change?
  
• What do you think about a regular schedule of topics? Good? Boring?
• What topics do you enjoy hearing about from me?

By the way, you don't have to be a Blogger user to comment. You can simply select the "other" option on the comment page. :D

Oh dear. Posts like this always seem so awkward. What if no one replies? X-(

On to the Beta

Hey, Blogger Beta finally decided to work! Now I can have tags! Hurray, hurray. Being the organization freak that I am, I feel the need to go back and add tags to old posts, so I apologize in advance to anyone subscribed to the feed. It may get a little repetitive this weekend. :D There's not too many posts--118--so it shouldn't take terribly long.

Insecurities of a Jack

There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating: people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing.
- Oscar Wilde

Ever since I was five years old, I've known what I wanted to do with my life. No, not in terms of a career or practical goals--if you've been reading this blog, you may have noticed I still have no idea what I want in that area. I'm talking about a bigger, more general picture. I have one of those: when I started school, I decided my goal was to know everything.

In the ensuing years, I've been confronted many times with the fact that this goal is not precisely realistic. But that hasn't stopped me from trying. Evidence: majoring in Chemistry and English, watching PBS all the time, surfing Wikipedia, and reading *gasp* non-fiction in my spare time.

And in general, I like my way of doing things--gathering random bits of knowledge and stringing them together so they catch the light of truth in new ways. I'm personally not in favor of our current system of education, wherein we teach people more and more about less and less. In the end, society ends up with a bunch of people who excel in their one little area, but are so entrenched in their dogma that they have difficultly seeing the connections and applications to other areas. And since the rest of us are equally busy in our little cells of knowledge, we can't learn from anything the others find. It seems to me to be a very inefficient method of discovering knowledge. (Yes, I realize there's some necessity for specialization in order to get in deep enough to really push the envelope, but I think we take it too far.)

Gathering knowledge from all these different areas has allowed me to think and learn in so many different ways. However, there's a definite problem with being a jack of all trades, and master of none. And that is that I feel very insecure about my knowledge. I know just enough in almost any area (excepting perhaps music) to know exactly how ignorant I actually am. I feel fine holding a conversation with someone who isn't familiar with the subject, but if I'm forced into a conversation in someone else's area of expertise--almost everything is--then I'm junk. I'm good at thinking about all sorts of problems, but I lack the well of facts necessary to match wits with someone who knows the territory. Sometimes I can get around this problem by drawing analogies to other areas of knowledge that they aren't as familiar with, but sometimes not.

It's quite disconcerting because I know I'm a knowledgeable, intelligent person, and yet so many times, I find myself stuck on the listening end of a rant because I lack the specialization to combat it. So irritating, yet I still feel no desire to specialize. Somewhere inside I'm absolutely convinced that I just need more time to gather more facts, that I'll eventually find an end to my quest for knowledge of everything.

But it seems an awfully long way away.

Feeling Hypocritical

Oh man. I feel like such a hypocrite having to write this, but NaNoWriMo is all shot to hell. After all of my harassing people to do it with me, I've had to cut and run. I feel sort of lame about that, but I promise I have a good excuse. First, I've been sick all weekend, which killed the majority of my writing time. I'm so miserably far behind that I despair of catching up. And second, well, there's a boy. But that's all I'm going to say about that. Posting personal stuff on a blog is always odd, so if you want to know more, you'll just have to ask. Plus, he'll probably read this. :P

In a way, I'm sort of relieved about this. As I started writing a novel, I just didn't get the same sort of spark that I've been getting lately from essay writing. I kept looking wistfully at my blog, wanting to write some essays even though I'd sworn it off for NaNoWriMo. I guess it's my fate to be a non-fiction writer.

So to those of you still going on in NaNoWriMo, do good for me. Er, well. Do well. Darn usage class. I can't even use good as an adverb anymore.

On to a second reason I'm feeling hypocritical. I didn't vote today. Spare me the rotten tomatoes. It feels terribly hypocritical after my rant about voting in the primaries. The problem is that I'm still registered to vote at home in SLC. I was busy all day until 5 pm, and given current amounts of homework, there was no way I could justify spending two hours and a quarter tank of gas to get up there.

I guess I really should just register to vote down in Utah County, but that's my Salt Lake County pride showing through. Registering down here would be too much of an affront to my identity. I am not a Happy Valley person; I'm just not.

Well, now that I feel thoroughly despicable, I guess I can get on with writing those essays.

NaNo Sentence of the Day #1

The opening sentence of my novel:

"The first thing that made Kira realize today would be different was the smell coming from the kitchen tents."

In good news, I totally had a brain storm in terms of plot, characters, and all that this morning during New Testament. Hurrah! I was getting a more than a little worried that I'd have nothing to write about! Move over, Necessity. Arbitrary deadlines are the new mother of invention.

Farewell, My Friends

So, this is my final blog entry before NaNoWriMo starts. I make no guarantees about the regularity of any blog entries for the next month. I'm going to try to do a "Best Sentence of the Day" thing--which may sprout into "Worst Sentence of the Day" or perhaps "Clunkiest Dialogue of the Day." But even that may fail spectacularly. And in terms of content, the only way you will get any substance is if I get terribly frustrated and need to rant about it. So it may be in your best interests to simply ignore anything I write for the next month. Show up around December 1st for your regularly scheduled programming.

Hey, in all the time you free up from not reading my strange ramblings, maybe you can write your own novel!

Or not.

10 Reasons Why I Am INSANE for Attempting to Write a Novel this Month
10. November is the beginning of holiday season. I'm supposed to be able to spend lots of time goofing off with my family.
9. I have no plot--only a vague sketch of a basis for a fantasy world. Really vague.
8. More importantly, I have no characters. Nope. None.
7. The last time I completed a work of fiction was . . . 6th grade. For reals.
6. And that was completely derivative of Princess Bride.
5. Um, homework. Midterms. Math. Chemistry.
4. Recently, I've actually come to like nonfiction a lot better than fiction. Why in the world am I trying to fight that?
3. The type of novels I usually like involve a lot of preplanning and thought.
2. I've never written any fiction that I actually am proud of. (See #7.)
1. Really, what sane person can write a novel in a month?!?

As my favorite anime says, "she is truly doomed." Wish me luck, people! Donations of novel-friendly food (no stickies or greasies) are accepted.

More of the Same

Typical controversial BYU political discussion over at Katherine's blog. What interests me is not the issue at hand, but the attitudes taken by the participants. The statements in particular that bother me:

Anonymous #2: Instead I hear a young BYU college kid that is more concerned about being trendy or rebellious than actually standing up for what you believe.

Katherine: . . . For many (most?) people saluting the flag has become a thoughtless act. I'm not convinced that the numerous people I passed who were flirting and giggling or engaged in full conversation while standing with their hands over their hearts were respecting and appreciating the symbolism of the flag and the anthem any more than I was.

I have two problems with these statements, which I view as the same attitude just in different clothing. First, the actions of the crowd have little bearing on whether a specific action is right or wrong. A#2, I know from reliable sources who you are, and you don't know Katherine. Until you know if she belongs to said group, the actions of that group are irrelevant to her personally. Same goes for what Katherine says. Whether or not those people are appreciating their national symbol has no effect on whether it is moral or not for you not to do so. Both of these are arguments based on what other people are doing, which we should have learned in elementary school has little impact on what our standards should be.

Problem two is these two attitudes represent the most unconstructive stereotypes of Mormon liberals and Mormon conservatives towards each other. Noticing these stereotypes was one of the things which caused me to start blogging in the first place. As Katherine shows, liberals have the idea that all conservatives are airheads who are simply following what their parents taught them and can't think for themselves. Equally bad is A#2's attitude that all liberals at BYU are only liberal because they want to stand out and rebel from their parents, that their beliefs are based on social pressures not understanding.

I've been put into both holes lately, and let me tell you, neither stereotype is justified. Yes, there are people on either side of the block who don't care, but they really aren't the ones you should be addressing, are they? I continue to advocate that until we drop these stereotypes and consider the opposition as real, rational people, there will be no progress towards the truth. We must act as though our opposition has the same information we do and has put exactly as much thought into their position as we have. Then and only then do we have a true basis for discussion. Even if it appears they don't, there's no use arguing with someone who doesn't have a level of thought to their opinions anyway. We must combat the ideal enemy if we want truth. Combating the enemy's flaws only wins the debate, not the heart. (And if the heart isn't your goal, I have no help for you.)

Stake Presidency

I love my stake presidency. A lot. So much that I am considering stalking them into their home wards after a) they are released and b) I get too old/married to live in Singles' Wards. (Of course, this will probably never happen, since I thoroughly intend to live in downtown SLC if possible, and certainly not anywhere in Utah County.) But let me quickly describe them in all their awesomeness:

• President Larsen -- Amazingly humble, and yet not as annoying as most of the people you know who are trying to be humble. Just the right amounts of humorous self-effacement, deference, and silent dignity. I personally think this man is closer to true humility than anyone I know.
• President Brenchley -- Choir director for the Orem Institute, he manages to incorporate hymns into his talks without making you want to giggle. He has this great speaking style that makes me think of a 19th century preacher, complete with loud rebuking and hand gestures. Picture a voice thundering out the following catchphrase while pounding on the pulpit: "We do not stand for the hymns of Zion, unless specifically invited to do so."
• President Keech -- Tonight I figured out the perfect description for President Keech: a modern Cicero, complete with brilliant legal abilities (he clerked at the Supreme Court) and a very strange voice. His talks are always intensely personal and doctrinal, yet up-to-date. At tonight's fireside, he advocated we use the "Indiana Jones" method when faced with the unknown. This is the same guy who showed a clip from Hitch as part of our Sunday school lesson at ward conference. Certainly knows his audience and how to appropriately incorporate outside sources.

I've never felt as close to any local authority figures in the church as I have to these men. They are truly called of God, and I know they are the ones I need to be hearing from at this time in my life. I really don't know why I'm blogging this. I just feel the need to share my impressions of these amazing men.

Scientific Romance

Last night I was watching Nova again, particularly Einstein's Big Idea. (Yes, I'm a nerd, get over that. It's faster than reading the book it was based on.) Can I just say this is about the most adorable scientific documentary I have ever seen? And I really do mean it. The program covers the lives of all the scientists whose discoveries contributed to the formation of E=MC^2. The science was mostly stuff I knew anyway, but the lives of the scientists utterly fascinate me.

And here's where we come to the title of the post, as I particularly liked the portrayal of the romantic lives of these scientists. Yes, it's probably mostly made up, but it was so adorable! Antoine Lavoisier working side-by-side with his wife, the downfall of Emilie du Châtelet--a French physicist--who died in childbirth, and Lise Meitner's tragic near-relationship with her co-worker Otto Hahn, who would eventually steal her Nobel Prize. Of course, the best was Einstein's courtship of his wife. I mean, who couldn't find this romantic:

ALBERT EINSTEIN: What would I see if I rode on a beam of light?

MILEVA MARIC: What? A beam of light? By what method do you propose to ride on this beam of light?

ALBERT EINSTEIN: The method is not important. Let us just imagine we two are young, radical, bohemian experimenters, hand in hand, on a journey to the outer reaches of the universe, and we are riding on the front of a wave of light.

MILEVA MARIC: I really don't know what you are suggesting, Herr Einstein. Do you wish to hold my hand or ridicule me?

ALBERT EINSTEIN: Ridicule you? No, never. I merely want you to help me to understand. What would we see, do you think, if we were together, and we sped up and up until we caught up to the front of a beam of light? What would we see?

Uh, okay, maybe you just have to see it. But I think it's adorable. This may be because I also think Einstein is adorable. But maybe that's just because I love IQ. But who doesn't?

Which brings me to the real point of this post. As I said earlier, I've recently discovered an affinity for chick flicks. But not just any chick flicks. I like chick flicks about nerds. My most recent favorite mushy crap is the story about Ender's parents meeting from Orson Scott Card's First Meetings. Any guy who would do what John Paul Wiggin does is pretty amazing. He'd certainly have my attention. :D

Snow Happy

It SNOWED today! For most people, this is bad news. Snow means wearing coats, walking to school in wet shoes, and just plain being cold. I, on the other hand, adore snow. Snow was exactly what I needed today. I've been feeling depressed lately--turns out, snow is the perfect cure. So, in honor of this tender mercy, I give you:

25+1 reasons to like snow

1. the way snow muffles all the sounds
   
2. making snowmen (or snow dinosaurs)
3. dying the snow colors with food coloring
   
4. snow angels
5. snowball fights
   
6. sliding down hills
7. skiing!!
   
8. everything is white and clean (for a while at least)
   
9. purity
10. contemplative atmosphere
    
11. fluffy!
12. eating snow
13. catching snowflakes on your tongue
    
14. sweaters
15. scarves and hats
    
16. fireplaces
17. hot chocolate (not just for breakfast anymore)
18. cold people + warm blankets = cuddling!
    
19. Christmas songs (or at least I feel less guilty about singing them)
20. Christmas lights reflecting off the white sheets
    
21. snow means my birthday is coming!
    
22. icicles!
23. the "thawing-out" feeling after coming in from the cold
24. driving in newly fallen snow
25. doing donuts in the parking lot
26. watching the flakes melt in your hand

In other news, less than one week left until NaNoWriMo starts! Gah!

The Solution

The only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everybody else, and this is a feeling that I have always cultivated.
- Oscar Wilde

Inconclusion

On delicate wings
soaring through clouds
or as a fallen leaf
headed for earth.

Soaring through clouds
unmarked glass,
headed for earth
perhaps paradise?

Unmarked glass:
poison
perhaps paradise
an enigmatic liquid

Poison
distilled from
an enigmatic liquid
deep in the mind

Distilled from
dying wishes
deep in the mind
heavy as stone

Dying wishes
on delicate wings:
heavy as stone,
or as a fallen leaf.



(P.S. If anyone recognizes the form of this poem, tell me! A high school teacher showed it to me once. Now I love it, but I have no idea what it is called. Maybe I'll make up my own name for it.)

Some Reasons Why I Love Being a Student

1. Free food. I have discovered, so long as I am moderately aware of campus events and freakishly early, I can get 3-4 free meals a week just from existing on campus.
2. Free candy. Ditto.
   
3. Pretending to be all scholarly. :D I was sitting on the floor in the hall of the BNSN this evening, doing some last minute cramming for my O-Chem test while eating a salad. There were a whole bunch of little kids in the building since it's National Chemistry Week. (Happy Mole Day!) As they walked by to go see the Chemistry magic show, they would all sort of stare at me like I was some kind of weirdo--Exhibit A: Hard Working College Student. Yeah, just you wait, children. Soon you will know the agony of midterms. Seriously, though, I am such a poser when it comes to studying. If I'm forced to accomplish something, it better look twice as hard as it actually is.
   
4. Signing up for classes. Which I did today. Specifically, this morning at 6 AM. I always wake up early to sign up for classes, even though I'm basically guaranteed to get whatever I want with my slew of IB credit (167 credits and two years left! Ha ha!). Anyway, winter semester is going to rock--O-Chem, Writing Creative Nonfiction, and SHAKESPEARE! Now I feel all trunky about this semester.
   
5. Signing up for a class in order to be required to read some of the stuff on your personal "to read" list. I just signed up for the Hugh Nibley class taught by the honors department. I guess it's as close as I'm going to get to the Mormon lit class, which the English department never seems to teach.
   

Seeking Greatness

The other day, the idea of the "great Mormon writer" resurfaced in my mind via Ben's post on this quote:

The first great Mormon writer will be excommunicated from the Church for his writing.

Interesting. Like Ben and Richard Dutcher, I have to say I hope it isn't so. I have to trust that this community of faithful believers will not only have room for something great, but be an ideal starting point for such greatness. However, I can see where the quote is coming from, and I think there's some sad truth to this perspective. If you substitute "excommunicated from the Church" with "scorned by the Church community," you would be hitting much closer to the truth.

I guess I should start by defining what we mean by the great Mormon author (GMA) because there are many possible definitions. The obvious observations would be such a GMA must be a writer of renown who is Mormon. But beyond that, who is their audience, and for what purpose do they write? Here are the basic possibilities, as I see them:

1. Mormon audience, faith promoting--This GMA writes the ultimate novel about the typical Mormon family. They affirm the good things in our community, cause us to weep when the children of their character fall away from the church, and basically make us feel warm and fuzzy when we read them. Think Deseret-Book-style fiction: The Work and the Glory would be the prototypical work of this GMA.
2. Mormon audience, theological--This GMA gives us great analysis of our beliefs and the scriptures and may or may not also be a GA (General Authority). This is the category of writers like Hugh Nibley and CS Lewis (if he were Mormon).
   
3. Mormon audience, community analysis--This GMA analyzes the foilbles of the Mormon community from a faith-based perspective. They are able to write critically with issues like social snobbery and homosexuality in the church, all without losing their faithful perspective. They would deal with our doubts and fears as Church members and portray us in all of our imperfection with an eye to correcting these problems.
   
4. General audience, proselytizing--This GMA writes the great American novel about Mormonism. It is so great that it convinces even the most hardened skeptics to look into the Church further. It tells the tale of Mormon belief in such a way that the world can understand what it means to be a Mormon.
   
5. General audience, literary--A normal great writer who simply happens to also be Mormon. Their works are read throughout the country/world by believers and non-believers to great acclaim. A knowledge of Mormonism is neither necessary to read their works nor gained from doing so.
   

In all likelihood, the GMA must fulfill all of these functions in some way. They are all important aspects of what it means to be a writer from any community. The problem is that certain of these functions are more easily acceptable to the Church community than others. Obviously, numbers 1 and 4 can be done fairly easily without offending anyone within the Church, except that perhaps someone doesn't like your portrayal of Joseph Smith. Number 5 is problematic because many within the Church would see you as being ashamed of your faith if you shoot for a general audience without any intent to convert.

But numbers 2 and 3 are, I think, where the original quote is coming from. Theological writings, outside of officially authorized Church literature, are a very delicate balance in the LDS community. Do we really have room in our society for someone like CS Lewis, whose theological writings are mostly logic based rather than scripture or modern prophets? I have yet to read any good logic-based theology from any LDS author, mostly because our beliefs center so much on authority (ethos, if you will). Yes, we have people with scholarly authority like Hugh Nibley, but even those types are viewed warily from inside the establishment. Many people are worried these things, as Ben says, get too scholarly and therefore detract from testimony and revelation. The GMA would have to hit the right balance in order to not alienate the rest of the Church.

Number 3, social commentary, is an even more dangerous category. I think in Mormonism we are naturally disposed to dislike criticism of our society for two reasons. First, because of the extensive social programs of the church, it's difficult to separate societal issues from doctrinal issues. Second, just from our history of being persecuted, we've become slightly oversensitive to any criticism at all. It's difficult for us the see the line there. Anyway, this is almost certainly where the quote is coming from. Social critics from within Mormon culture almost always end up being pushed to the outside--Robert Kirby, even some of Orson Scott Card. It seems to be impossible to be a mainstream Mormon and also a social critic. The GMA would have to manage to do both, or fulfill this quote by being pushed out.

Of course, if the GMA moves too far out, they can lose their faith, or at least their identification with the community of faith. And the GMA can never be someone outside the community--they must never try to be a neutral observer. A GMA has a vested interest in the community; they are part of us.

(On a side note, as I wrote up these categories, I can see the case for Orson Scott Card as the GMA taking shape. He has major works in most of the categories:

1. Mormon audience, faith promoting: Saints, Women of Genesis
2. Mormon audience, theological: some essays--this is definitely a weak point; we have yet to see a Mere Mormonism from him.
   
3. Mormon audience, community analysis: "Hypocrites of Homosexuality," A Storyteller in Zion
4. General audience, proselytizing: perhaps the Alvin Maker series; also a weak point, according to some; personal beliefs incorporated into his works, but no great converting novel.
5. General audience, literary: Ender's Game, short stories
   

And he has been able to maintain his faith while also writing critically about it. Really, perhaps the only thing that holds him back from obtaining this title is that he lacks great literature about the doctrines of the Church (nos. 2 and 4). However, I personally see these as more minor functions of the GMA, so I would say OSC is, if not THE GMA, at least as close as we have gotten.)

Warm Fuzzies!

Ha ha! My sister posted a link to this on her blog, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to spread the happiness. Warm fuzzies!!!

This book was a huge part of my childhood. It's just one of those strange family culture things. Like watching Fraggle Rock, playing the VCR version of Clue ("Not Chinese. French Food." "Pizza!") or reading The Rain Babies or Big Sister, Little Sister ("Here, blow."). They're important, and when someone else has actually heard of them, it's a huge connection. Everytime I meet someone who actually likes Fraggle Rock, it's an instant twenty bonus points in my completely arbitrary point system. Also, no matter how cheesy they are (the BBC Narnia movies anyone?), you still take them entirely seriously because of what they symbolize in your life.

A Week+ without Blog Posts

Um, yeah, sorry about that. I've been sick, dazed, swamped with homework, shopping in Park City, etc. So, here's some stuff that should have been posted, but wasn't.

Forum Notes (10/10/06)
Wow! That forum was completely amazing. If you didn't watch it, you should be greatly ashamed. And then you should go watch it.

I really liked his idea of the "mobilization of moderation." I can't remember where I heard this statistic--perhaps in a US government class--but most people in the US will self-identify as moderate, and yet when time comes to do something about it, we go for the extremes. I think this problem comes from a lack of trust for "the other side." In theory, we know that most of us think in the middle, but just to be save, better to stay as far away from their side as possible. We really need to mobilize a moderate middle that's really willing to compromise and work together.

I also felt very validated that he mentioned an idea I blogged about for the last forum--that what we mistake for tolerance in our society is really apathy. The real path to tolerance is not through losing any standard of correct behavior. Rather the opposite: we must hold to a standard as firm as any. The real key to tolerance is charity, Christ-like love, in which we can care about and love everyone in such a way that we are always seeking the best for them. We view no one as our enemy, only as misguided friends.

And next week (24th) is also a forum. Interesting. I thought they only had forums once a month. Oh well. I like forums way better than devotionals anyway. Devotionals = Sunday school. Forums = clever discussion of scholarly topics that can apply to the gospel.

Divine Comedy Show (10/13/06)
I am a huge advocate of Divine Comedy. I think what they do is good for the BYU student body. At a university where everything we do is viewed with eternal perspective, we sometimes get too serious about things that don't particularly matter. We mistake our culture for our doctrine.

Humor is definitely a power tool for social commentary (see Robert Kirby, SLTrib columnist). And Divine Comedy does it well. There were quite a few skits employing the stereotypes of liberal and conservative Mormons, which I thought were hysterical. The portrayals were overdone just to the point where you realize how silly we are for categorizing people in these ways. The Boy Scout merit badge skit was simply awesome: the book burning merit badge, liberal spotting merit badge, and polygamy merit badge were my favorites. :D Nice skit playing off of the recent "offended by dance" letter in the Daily Universe, featuring the "Guide for when to be Offended, Mormon Edition." It's only funny because it's true. This is the kind of humor that can really do something powerful. It changes how people act and think.

Dating Comments (10/15/06)
It's pretty much established canon in our stake that the Sunday school lesson during ward conference will be a lecture on dating. No, it's not as bad as it sounds. Last year's was wonderful: we got to watch a clip from Hitch, and then have President Keech tell us the we should go on more frequent dates with less pressure. His focus was that we have shrunk the "dating continum" such that asking a girl on a first date has become almost synonymous with capital-D Dating, which is only a small step away from being engaged. We need to spread it back out, so that a first date is just that: a date. (I admit to being guilty of perpetuating this problem, but that's another story.)

Anyway, this year's was equally good, though a little more serious since it was President Brenchley, but still. Here's the highlights reel: "Brethren, we want you to be going on one date a week for the rest of your lives." (The feminist side of me wishes he would have extended such a challenge to the women, but then I remember how much I hate asking guys out and go back to my traditionalist senses. Anyway, theoretically, if all guys asked someone out once a week, this should work out to one date per girl. Unfortunately, I can attest this is not the case.) Remember Elder Oaks' 3 P's of dating: paired off, planned ahead, payed for. (Of course, "payed for" doesn't necessarily mean spending money. The implication, though, is an activity that one person is in charge of arranging for. If there's money involved, it shouldn't be "hang-out style"--everyone pays for themselves--at least until significantly later in the process.) Get to work! What's wrong with spending time and money on getting to know a person, even if you don't intend to marry them?

Excellent Idea (10/17/06)
Speaking of dating, I'm always on the look out for fun and random things to do, but I think the idea of a improvisational desert night tops out as the best idea in recent memory. Yes, it even tops sardines in the HFAC and graveyard games in the Provo cemetary. Given my organized nature, I feel compelled to create an organized version of the rules. Try it out! This could be the new . . . tupperware party? Alright, that sounds lame. Nevermind, because this is definitely cool.

Improv Desert Night
Players: 4 individuals/pairs/teams

Equipment:
Basic cooking supplies, specifically flour, sugar (white, brown, powdered), butter, oil, milk, eggs, baking powder/soda, salt, cornstarch and vanilla, in quanities large enough for four recipies
Cooking equipment, including mixing bowls, saucepans, whisks, spoons, and pans
1 kitchen
1 secret ingredient per team, in quantities large enough for four recipes
1 cookbook per team
10 dollars per team

1. Select a time and place for the desert night. Find the largest kitchen area you can.
2. Before the event, compile and circulate a "Prefer Not" list for secret ingredients. Survey the participants for allergies and general dislikes. Encourage participants to be kind and not choose anything on this list as a secret ingredient.
3. Before the event, each team should choose a secret ingredient, Iron Chef style, which each team will be challenged to include in their dessert (eg. graham crackers, cranberries, peanut butter). Keep this a secret from the other teams.
4. Each team should bring a reasonable quantity of their secret ingredient to the event--enough to make four recipes of a size to serve everyone in attendance. On game day, once all teams have arrived, have each team announce its secret ingredient.
5. Teams will then have a short brainstorming session (10-15 min) to decide what type of desert they would like to attempt. The goal is to include as many of the secret ingredients as possible. Each team can use its own cookbook for ideas, but no one elses. Don't rely too much on the cookbook. Come up with unique creations. No spying!
6. After brainstorming has finished, head to the grocery store for a ten minute, ten dollar shopping trip. If a team needs any ingredients for its recipe other than the basic cooking supplies and the secret ingredients, this is the time to get them. Don't forget specialized cooking supplies. Ten minutes only! Those who are late will be severely mocked.
7. Back at the kitchen, the cooking madness begins! Teams have one hour to finish their dessert. Stovetop and oven space is first-come, first serve.
8. If at any time any team's recipe needs help, they may shout "May the Kitchen Gods have mercy on my spatula!" The other teams may choose to help them out or ignore their pitiful pleas. There's no reward or punishment for doing so.
9. When the time limit is up, each desert will be sampled by all. Each team will be scored on a scale from 1 to 4 (1=worst, 4=best) in the following areas:

• Use of Secret Ingredients (one point for each used)
• Tastiness
• Presentation
• Creativity
• Sportsmanship
  

10. The team with the most points wins! Bask in your bragging rights as the master desert chefs!

Random Nerdiness

Alright, so I stayed home sick from classes today, and in my infinite boredom, I rediscovered the game of life, which I stumbled upon a long time ago in my wanderings in that source of infinite knowledge, Wikipedia. No, this is not the same game of life that has the little cars and the pink and blue people. This game of life involves complex mathematical concepts and modeling of real populations. Crazy awesome patterns.

But that's not why I brought this up. There's a fun off-shoot to all this crazy math. Presenting the click maze! A nice little exercise in logic, though the rules aren't as clear as I would like. Basically, you can choose to move to a new square or stay put on every turn, but you must end up in a square with either two or three neighbors. Less than that, and your cell dies of "lonliness." More than that, and your cell gets crowded to death. There's only five levels, but you can get the idea.

Once you conquer all of those, you should move on to the regular game of life. I'm been experimenting with regenerating patterns . . . . It's very tricky and fascinating.

Did I mention I'm a nerd?

Refining "Refinement"

Even though I'm clearly way past the kairos for this piece, I'm writing it anyway because something definitely needs to be said. Here's my reaction to Elder Callister's devotional address, "Your Refined Heavenly Home," in three parts.

The Good:
In general, I liked the concept behind Elder Callister's talk. People outside the humanities/arts frequently underestimate their importance in shaping our souls. I was especially drawn to his ideas on refinement in speech. Not particularly the parts ostesibly about slang language. (Is he aware that the word "awesome" doesn't necessarily have to be used in an over-exaggerated way? Someone ought to hand him a copy of "How Great Thou Art," a great hymn that uses awesome in the way it was always intended to be used.)

What I really liked was his idea of good conversation. Too many times when I try to draw in concepts from great literature into conversations, I get blank stares before the talk turns back to the football game or who went out with who last weekend. It's sad that so few people actually want to discuss great things. To me, conversation and philosophy should run together, and anything you discuss in a paper can also be made into a great conversation. I'm so glad that I have CS Lewis Society and the Writing Center as good outlets for more refined conversation.

I also liked his discussion of music, partly because he agreed with my opinion. :D Music is a way to try to express the glory and power of certain words. I also liked that he pointed out the importance of seasonal music. Last year I had a roommate who hated Christmas music and it drove me batty. Certain songs are associated with the feelings of certain seasons, and playing them enhances the spirit of the season.

And finally, what English major worth her stuff wouldn't jump at the idea of good literature as the "minor prophets?" This is what I'm always trying to tell people about the importance of literature. Sure, their insights are not as profound and directly gospel oriented as the scriptures, but they offer insights into the human condition and human potential that we can get in no other way. Another good quote: "Refinement and spirituality are two strings drawn by the same bow." Learning about these famous books makes us more sensitive to other people, which helps us increase our charity towards them. And alternately, studying the gospel draws us to seek out more and better media. As we increase one, we usually increase the other.

The Bad:
A few points in his talk certainly rubbed me the wrong way, but I think these are common misconceptions about media, so I'm not surprised to see them pop up here.

The first thing that bugged me was, of course, that he throws out TV and DVDs as purely negative things in contrast to the supreme virtues of reading and music. Highly educated people seem to have this bias against film, which I hate. Film is simply a medium, a neutral way of communicating certain types of thoughts in certain ways. It has its limitations compared to writing, painting, and music, but it has its advantages as well.

What he really meant to criticize was not the medium itself, but rather the content thereof. But the same trashy content can be found in all mediums. Is reading some sappy chic-lit any better (intellectually speaking) than watching it? And how is watching a Nova series on string theory less edifying than the book covering the same material? It's very tempting for us to say "All reading is intelligent, and all movies and television are a waste of time" because this is a lot easier than going the extra mile to judge the actual content of the media. But those who dismiss film so off-handedly will certainly miss out.

On another note, the connection he builds between highly educated people and salvation made me a little wary. I'm sure he didn't mean it this way, but it implies that people who live the gospel can't possibly be worthy of exaultation unless they share his taste in music and books. In this way, his talk is alienating to the poor saints in other countries. Are they any less worthy of the Celestial kingdom because they had not time in their lives of subsistence to read the great works of literature? This talk is a little middle-class centric, something which the church needs to avoid.

The Ugly:
(This last section is doubling as my 5th progymnasmata assignment, which is to do either a refutation or a confirmation on something. Thus the slightly more formal tone and summary of the situation. Also, I realize it is disproportionately long compared to the other sections, but alas.)

Elder Douglas L. Callister's status as a seventy and a law professor might seem to put him beyond reproach, but no amount of respect ought to justify the offensive and inappropriate remarks found in his recent devotional talk. Either Elder Callister has been more careless about the implications of his words than most lawyers would allow themselves to be, or he is far more insensitive to the situation of women than most General Authorities. Whatever the case may be, his remarks on physical appearance were unbecoming of both his education and his station in the church.

During his devotional speech entitled "Your Refined Heavenly Home," Elder Callister addressed the importance of physical appearance in a relationship. He begins by telling the story of a young husband seeking to compliment his wife on her various talents and skills. After a few days, the husband is rebuffed by his young wife who says, "Don't say any of those things. Just tell me you think I am beautiful." He follows up this story with a statement that:

Every man has the right to be married to a woman who makes herself as beautiful as she can be and who looks in the mirror to tidy herself up before he comes home. Every woman has the right to be married to a man who keeps himself clean, physically as well as morally, and takes pride in his appearance.

I find the behavior of the wife in Elder Callister's anecdote quite difficult to believe. Although it is true that some women enjoy being complimented on their personal appearance, it would be a rare woman indeed who would prefer it to the exclusion of all other compliments. Compliments tend to mean the most when they are about our accomplishments earned by much effort. Skill in keeping house, cooking, raising children, and good conversation must be earned with much diligent work, but it not often noticed. Compliments in these areas would show the husband had a genuine awareness and appreciation of how much effort the wife put into the day-to-day running of the household.

As to the matter of beauty, much of what is being complimented comes simply from the genetic lottery. Unless a woman has spent an inordinate amount of time preparing her appearance, as for dates, formal dances, and other events, one might as well compliment her parents for her beauty rather than her, since they had much more control over the outcome than she did. Although the occasional compliment on personal appearance is wonderful, it is much like congratulating someone on rolling a twelve in a dice game, or getting a good hand in poker. Sure, it's wonderful luck, but what comes with little thought also merits little thought in the long run.

Even if we concede that the wife in the story might have really appreciated being called beautiful more than any other compliment, the conclusions that Elder Callister draws from this story are certainly poorly fitting to his audience. The students that constituted his primary audience are not to the point in their lives where they have "let themselves go," as he says, because they were already settled down with a family. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Many, if not most, of those listening were not yet married, and are therefore still quite concerned about the ability of their personal appearance to attract a spouse. Rather than convincing these students to shape up there own appearance, Elder Callister's talk merely gave license to many to increase the importance of physical appearance in their search for a potential spouse. This is counterproductive to several other parts of his speech where he advises students to concentrate on the inner personality and appreciation of the arts as important points in a potential date.

Another problem lies in that Elder Callister's conclusions are not equal for both genders. His conclusion, that men have a "right" to a beautiful wife, contrasts strongly with his statement that wives deserve a husband "who takes pride in his appearance." Essentially, he states that women ought to concentrate on how their appearance pleases others, specifically their husband, but men ought to have pride in their appearance for his own sake. There is no mention of husbands trying to look handsome for their wives, only that they should be clean and proud of how they look for their own sake. His comments reflect an attitude now outdated by several decades of feminism, and thus inappropriate to a modern audience who believes that women should be valued equally with men, and not just for their "beautiful" appearance. Nearly all the women I've spoken to about his devotional were offended by the sexist nature of his remarks.

Certainly, our physical appearance has a large impact on how we act and think. We should keep ourselves clean and neat at all times. But Elder Callister's approach to this topic was poorly done, as it puts physical appearance higher in importance than one's personal achievements of character.

(A much better talk on the importance of personal appearane was given by Sister Susan W. Tanner, the Young Women General President, in October 2005 general conference. One line in particular stuck with me and has become my personal motto regarding the importance of appearance: "“You must do everything you can to make your appearance pleasing, but the minute you walk out the door, forget yourself and start concentrating on others.")

A Little More Insanity in the Blogosphere

Oh dear, now my sister has a blog. This could be then end of your sanity as you know it. But seriously, I love my Heather. She's much more writerly than me. Seriously, I admire her creativity and confidence in her work. Nothing much on her blog yet, but she's good at producing interesting stuff, so keep an eye on it.

I promise there will be an actual post later . . . .

Crimes and Punishments

Ah, the debate on evil in literature continues. First, more attempts to ban Harry Potter. Utter nonsense. Second, Joni's post and Ben's reply on the subject. Yes, long comments are an excellent opportunity for posts with minimal effort. Continuing . . . .

Well, there's hope for you yet, Ben. I was beginning to worry that you had a completely unreasonable perspective on evil in literature. However, could you clarify what you mean by "One trap that it’s easy to fall into is thinking that it’s okay to consume portrayals of evil that do bring us down and offend the Spirit"? I'm still not exactlly sure where you're saying the line should be drawn . . . .

Additionally, what happens if not all the evil/un-virtuous characters repent of their evil doing? It's realistic to real life--not everyone repents, or even acknowledges the existence of evil, in their lifetime. Also, in reality, a lot of people who do immoral things live fairly happy and successful lives. An important function of literature is to deal with these delimmas--think book-of-Job-style, only inverted (why do the evil prosper rather than, why do the righteous suffer). But would you see books like that as an "endorsement" of evil?

In reality, not everyone comes to the same conclusion as to what is right and wrong, and I feel that has to be portrayed in our literature. This doesn't mean I don't believe in absolute right and wrong--of course I do--but you have to admit that not everyone sees them in the same way. Not every character has to come to the same moral conclusion, in my opinion. It's not realistic to life. I tend to go by the overall message of the book, rather than the attitudes of individual characters.

Also, novels that come to "incorrect" moral conclusions are sometimes also important to understand. If we can't reconcile ourselves about why that viewpoint is wrong now, our faith could be greatly shaken when we come up against those ideas in the natural course of life. Ignoring them doesn't make them any less sophistically tempting. We can't just ignore things that challenge our faith--we must deal with them, albeit in a faithful way.

Have you ever read Crime and Punishment? I would be interested to hear your perspective on the portrayal of evil in that novel. I personally think it's a very moral story, but I think you might disagree.

Oh, and happy 100 posts to me!

Class-y Thoughts

I have all my classes today. For those of you who are wondering, here's an example of what goes on in the life of a double major--thoughts from my religion, English, and science courses all rolled into one.

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A thought on the Sermon on the Mount:
In chapter 5 of Matthew, Christ contrasts the old law and the new law. In the first few examples, the old law represents the extreme sin, the new law the internal cause behind it. Murder is a result of anger, adultery is a result of lust. If we stop the cause, there's no real need to worry about the sin. But then, Jesus brings up this old/new law pair:

38 ¶ Ye have heard that it hath been said, An ^aeye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:

39 But I say unto you, That ye resist not ^aevil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right ^bcheek, ^cturn to him the other also.

So the ultimate cause of justice is mercy? Interesting. Obviously, this is not quite the same as the others: this is a pair of virtues rather than sins. But I can see how justice is a lesser virtue derived from the ultimate virtue of mercy. Justice arises from a desire for fairness--to make sure there's no unfairness to any individual because we care about them. Mercy is the extension of that--not only giving each individual a fair standing, but giving them exactly what they need. It's a more individualized form of justice.

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Notes on the rhetoric of general conference:

• Nice use of the commonplace by President Hinckley in his Sunday morning talk--almost telling the Martin handcart company stories, but not quite; just enough to bring in the emotional component.
• Apparently, the priesthood session is usually the best because it can assume a lot more things about its audience. No need to consider non-members. Saturday sessions run a close second, since most non-members and civic authorities watch the Sunday sessions.
• Delivery/memorization has gotten a lot better since the Conference Center was built. The speakers are more aware of their audience. However, we still fall asleep. Delivery leaves a lot to be desired.
  
• Perhaps this is why videos have been inserted? They still creep me out.
• Conference has become a lot less Utah-centered in the past few years. Gone are the days when a speaker can say they grew up in Alpine and have everyone know what they mean. Even what a landfill is needs explanation, just to be sure the analogy will work for all audiences.
  

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You know you've taken too many math classes when:

• You have a favorite matrix. (It's the identity matrix, of course!)
• A black hole with mass zero sounds completely logical.
• Learning more complex things actually makes your life easier.
• Your class cheers every time something reduces to the zero vector.
• Your teacher doesn't know the difference between CS Lewis and Lewis Carroll. (True story: my math teacher was convinced that CS Lewis wrote Alice and Wonderland.)

Excuses and Announcements

So I may not be posting as regularly as usual this week. My lappy is in the shop, getting her DVD drive replaced. Sad day.

And I am now signed up for NaNoWriMo. Let the insanity begin!

A Definition

Vomitous (adj.) is a word used to show disgust at anything overtly romantic, especially the variety of romance found in movies oriented towards single women. This word originated in 2004, when a young BYU co-ed explained that the romance contained in “chick flicks” made her feel like throwing up. Ever since, the term vomitous has been applied to describe many events or objects related to amorous feelings, though the word can be extended to describe the actions or character of a person. The term is usually used in a derogatory manner.

Usage Examples:

“People who watch Sleepless in Seattle disgust me—that movie is so vomitous!”

“Bringing her a dozen red roses would definitely be vomitous, but if that’s your goal, then go ahead.”

“The missionary she’s been writing to for two years just came back. He called her on the phone last night, and now she’s acting all vomitous.”

Vomitious is definitely not appropriate in formal writing or speaking, but can often be used to humorous effect in casual conversation. Caution should be used concerning what situations are appropriate for the use of the term. Use of the word vomitous implies a lack of romance in the life of the speaker, and perhaps jealousy of those who do have a significant other. The word is mostly used by jaded, female BYU students annoyed that they don’t get as many dates as their roommates. Using the term in the presence of others who don’t feel the same disgust for romance will make the speaker’s situation apparent and possibly depress the number of dates even further.

Conference Blog-cast: Part 3

It might surprise you to find out that my blog-cast was actually useful to someone! On Saturday, Heather, my sister, was on her way home from working in Alaska this summer. She wasn’t able to watch conference, but she was able to get on the net for a few minutes and read my blog summary. :D Happy coolness! Oh, and the internet is too slow at my house to actually post after every talk, so some of this won’t go up until noon or so.

“How Firm a Foundation”: Hurray! My favorite hymn! And they even sang the sixth verse, which is the best one.

President Thomas S. Monson: My mother points out that the metaphor of Canadian roads is less than apt, considering the highway that just collapsed there. :D Good discussion of desires versus values: we may desire to become better at something, but until we really value that skill or attitude, we can never really acquire it. The gospel is really the practice of turning these desires to change into actual values, and from there into character. We need to turn these things into an essential part of our character. As we've said many times at CS Lewis society, the gospel is not about obeying commandments; it's about becoming what God would have us be. Sheesh, what’s with the videos? Can’t anyone just use their imagination anymore? Nice use of both the opening hymns in his talk.

(Hey, I have wireless! Maybe I can post this stuff.)

Elder L. Tom Perry: Plan of Salvation. Made possible by our Savior. Geez, that makes it sound like a PBS program. Sorry, that's probably not appropriate, but really: "made possible by"? I love it when they do the summary of European history in a gospel context. There were several good talks about the Reformation in last October's conference. I should go re-read those. But it's just interesting to view all of history as part of the plan of salvation.

Richard C. Edgley (Presiding Bishopric): Dishonesty is symptom of greed and arrogance. I like that idea. It's not a problem but a symptom. Once we can solve the underlying problems, telling the truth is no longer hard. We must first get rid of the dishonesty in our hearts.

Margaret S. Lifferth (First Councilor in the Primary Presidency): Overindulgence, over-scheduling, and expectations that are too high or too low as forms of child abuse. Interesting. Everyone in the world must care about children, not just their parents. Family worship is good, no matter how ineffective and disorganized it seems. I can definitely testify of this: FHE at my house was always chaos. No one ever wanted to participate and it required a lot of effort on my parents' part to keep things going. And yet. Though we may not have learned anything from the lessons or the scripture reading, the memory of doing it comes back when we are grown. The values taught at home eventually come back to children when they leave.

Anthony D. Perkins (Quorum of the Seventy): As a child, we have perfect faith, but as we grow, doubts increase. Another discussion of needless guilt in church members. Why can't we learn not take ourselves quite so seriously? I think we are almost always doing better than we think. "There is a difference between humility and humiliation." The Lord has not given us the spirit of guilt, but of hope for change. If we are not hopeful, we are not in the right path. Are you suffering from "Adult Onset Pessimism"?

Elder Russell M. Nelson: Discussion of the Abrahamic Covenant. In previous dispensations, covenant limited by time and location--relatively few people had access to it. Restoration gives access to all--not limited by time or location. We not only teach the gathering of Israel, but we participate in it. Abraham is linked to all members of the church. Each nation gathers unto its promised lands.

President Gordon B. Hinckley: Man, I love how straight-up President Hinckley is about the speculation on his health. He is so up with the times. Man, I never noticed that the GAs are so well aware with the church.