Family Stories

Did I mention how much I love my study abroad class? For the midterm, we got to make up our own questions related to the ideas we're discussing about the stories, and then just free-write about them for a class period. Awesomeness. The question I choose was "How are our roles in my family shaped by the stories we tell about each other? Do the stories we tell change the roles we play?" The question comes from David Copperfield--how his uncle Murdstone labels him unfairly as a problem child after only one incident. I think we tend to do this a lot in our lives, and I wanted to explore how my family does it. Anyway, I think the results are pretty interesting, and some of you might appreciate them. It was a good midterm though. It challenged me to write stories, rather than philosophy, which is something I need to practice. And I haven't done any editing yet for tone shifts and misspellings, so cut me some slack.

The least favorite story I’ve ever had told about me by my family is that I’m controlling. I’m an oldest child, it’s what I’m supposed to do, right? I spent a lot of my childhood babysitting younger siblings, or helping them out in school. In return for all this help, I’ve always felt like I deserved some sort of authority, like I should have a say. Authority’s probably not really the word I’m looking for, I guess. It’s more like advisory. I want to have my opinion count for something, to be able to give advice like a parent would. It’s the least I can ask: in exchange for the responsibility, shouldn’t I get a few of the rights?

But about when I was 15, my parents decided I was too controlling. Our family was never one to talk about these sorts of issues behind closed doors, in a calm and rational way. I think it started at the dinner table one night, when I was advising my sister on how to deal with her crazy friends who were always in some sort of drama. It seemed to come out of nowhere: “Liz, you’re not the mom. Stop it,” my sister said. I tried to defend everything I said as completely objective, and looked to my parents for backup on this. But I found the tables had been turned on me: “No, Liz, she’s right; you aren’t the parent, so you need to stay out of everyone else’s business.”

For the next few years, the phrase “you’re not the mom” haunted most of my hours at home. Like Murdstone’s labeling of Davy—“Be careful. I bite.”—it was soon blown past any original meaning. It was certainly true at one level that I needed to stop controlling people. It’s a problem that I’ll need to battle for a long time yet. But the phrase soon just popped out whenever I talked at home. I couldn’t state an opinion about whether it was going to rain tomorrow without being accused of coveting my former role. At first, I would try to explain how the situation was not at all similar to the original problem, but it took so much effort that I soon gave it up as a lost cause. It got to the point where I simply didn’t want to talk any more at home because no one would respond to what I was saying. All they could see was the problem.

***

Michael is my second youngest brother. Actually, he’s the second oldest too. He’s right in the middle of the three brothers—Spencer, Michael, and Josh. And he acted like a typical middle child, trapped in the middle of nowhere. He and Spencer never got along well. This is partially because for most of his childhood, Spencer was possessed of some sort of demon that convinced him the best way to have fun was to try to push other people’s buttons. Not in a friendly sort of way—the way you might tease someone who you loved. Not in a sadistic kind of way either—it wasn’t the same as the sick kid down the street who enjoyed mutilating animals for fun. It was really just a kind of psychological warfare, or perhaps experiment, for Spencer: to find the smallest thing that annoyed someone, something completely ordinary like putting his feet on top of your magazine or sitting in the chair right behind you when you practiced piano, something he could do completely on accident, and then to do it subtly and repeatedly until his victim’s temper finally exploded with nothing to blame for it.

Michael was his favorite victim because he had more of a temper than the rest of us. He had a hard time expressing himself with words—we later found out he was dyslexic—so he would lash out with his body. And since they were only two years apart, they were always together at family activities. They were expected to play together (as siblings who are close in age usually are; it never seems to work out well though). Spencer understood Michael inside and out, watched him like a hawk. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find a list somewhere of all the tools Spencer could use to upset Michael.

It started out as only once or twice a week, but at its peak, there’d be a major fight once or twice an hour. Spencer would start out by breathing too loudly, or sitting too closely. Michael tried to tolerate it for as long as he could, but eventually he would just explode. Fists would be flying and hair would be pulled. Unfortunately, by then, Michael would be too mentally off-balance to do much damage while Spencer would be cool as a cucumber, keeping himself just out of harm’s way until Mom arrived. Then he’d play the innocent victim: “I wasn’t doing anything, Mom. He just started hitting me.”

My mom knew better, of course. I don’t think mothers ever really believe their children’s excuses, and she’d known about Spencer’s experiments for a long time. But I think she, like the rest of us had long given up trying to change Spencer. He seemed perversely stuck with who he was, and we’d just have to pray he’d grow out of it someday. No, she’d give Spencer a verbal slap on the wrist, and then turn to Michael. “You know, he can’t make you angry unless you let him. You just have to ignore him.” Every time, every day, the same thing.

It just became another tool in Spencer’s toolbox.

***

My mom and dad’s relationship has always been interesting. To this day, I’m not sure how they got together. They just seem so different from each other. Dad studied accounting and political science at school: can you get more practical than that? Meanwhile, my mother meandered through college. First, she studied computer science, practical enough, though I don’t think she did it to make money, but just because she liked the idea. But her real love showed through when she got her second degree in English and eventually earned her Master’s in--Horrors!--English. As impractical as you can get, though I still go to her when I need to talk about a good book or understand some doctrinal issue.

She was supposed to be abstract and flighty, or at least that’s the story my dad always used to tell about her. “Mom can’t multitask,” he would always say. He meant it kindly, and you could see that it was true. When she was talking to someone on the phone, you couldn’t have gotten her attention to let her know that her shoes were on fire. And speaking of fires, there was one time when she put cookies in the oven and then took all the kids to the library. Being raised by an English major, of course these trips took well over an hour. We returned to a smell like a charcoal bar-b-que that hadn’t been cleaned all winter had been lit inside the house. I still remember looking at those dozen cookies on the cookie sheet: perfectly round black circles, like I’d imagined coal might be.

She was always doing things like that when she was cooking, not adding the yeast into the bread dough or forgetting about the five pounds of raw meat she’d been defrosting in the microwave, so that you’d find the next morning when you went to heat up your oatmeal. Dad, on the other hand, has always been a wonderful cook. He can balance five different dishes and have them all finish at exactly the same time so that everything would be hot and fresh. And his cookies are still something I ask for every time I come home.

My mom always laughs it off when my dad points out her impracticality. “That’s why I married your dad,” she said, “so you kids would have some chance at not being scatterbrained like me.” But sometimes I see tears in her eyes when Dad would harass her after a particularly bad cooking fiasco, like the turkey that never seemed to be done.

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.)

In Defense of the English Major, Part II: Dealing with Evil

Thy mind, O man! if thou wilt lead a soul unto salvation, must stretch as high as the utmost heavens, and search into and contemplate the darkest abyss, and the broad expanse of eternity--thou must commune with God.
-Joseph Smith, Jr.

"Shall I sit down and read the Bible, the Book of Mormon, and the Book of Covenants all the time?” says one. Yes, if you please and when you have done, you may be nothing but a sectarian after all. It is your duty to study to know everything upon the face of the earth in addition to reading those books. We should not only study good, and its effects upon our race, but also evil and its consequences.
-Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses, 2:93-94

(In Defense of the English Major, Part I, is related to this post, but not necessary for understanding this post. It deals mostly with the issue of whether lit crit is meaningful or not.)

Some recent posts on Ben's blog have brought to the surface of my mind one of the other issues that plagues the image of the English major, which is that of the subject matter they are called to deal with in their literature. The English department is one of the more dangerous departments on campus when it comes to objectionable material. (Other dangerous departments include the fine arts and art history.) We often read material in novels which would be considered objectionable in recreational reading. How do I justify reading books filled with violence, crude language, rape, and explicit sexuality?

Well, this post originally started as an attempt to explain logically and definitively exactly what types of literature I consider appropriate and those which I don't, and why. And for the sake of being explicit, here's a quick and dirty (no pun intended) rundown in that direction:

1. First, like Katherine, I believe there must be some meaning behind the objectionable material in order to make it appropriate. Books and movies that are violent or crude simply for the sake of such, of course I can't watch. They are idiotic and inane, and I have not part in them mostly because of their thoughtlessness and lightmindedness, and only secondarily because of their obscenity. But oftentimes portrayals of immoral things are used in order to make a valid and important point. Immoral things are often powerful life experiences, oftentimes evil, yes, but nonetheless powerful and important. They deal with real issues of real people. A person seriously seeking to understand life must seek to understand all its aspects, not just those that are pleasant or common.
   
2. Second, I agree with Sean's comment in that I can't hold other people's expression to the same standard as I hold myself. Wait, I've phrased that incorrectly. I do believe things like swearing, violence, and sexual humor are usually immoral and not becoming to anyone. However, just because I don't like their method of expression does not mean I should ignore their opinion. Indeed, I can't afford to ignore their philosophy. I always look for the meaning behind what they are saying and doing. However imperfectly or offensively they may have said it, their thoughts, I eventually find, are not so different from ones I might have, and often mean the same thing as the truth I have arrived at some other way. As a result of understanding their lives, I can either build on my own store of truth or learn pitfalls in logic to avoid. I can learn from their negative example what is wrong, but I can also gather the grains of truth that provide meaning in their lives.
   
3. Though it is true that even the portrayal of immoral things can get them stuck in your head, it's what you choose to do with them that is important. If my understanding of the Atonement is correct, the Savior has seen, heard, and experienced all these things, and additionally has a clear recollection of them. Yet do we say the Savior is evil because he has all of these evil experiences inside His head? Absolutely not, because we know he's not seeking to imitate them. He sees them for what they are and uses his knowledge of them for righteous purposes. To draw a more secular analogy, it's like the ridiculous people who want to ban Harry Potter because it portrays wizardry and some pretty evil things. Let's look at the message behind it, rather than the surface impressions. Some novels portray some pretty horrible things, but do so in pursuit of truth. Likewise, some novels stay in the safe zone as to crude things, but their final message is still one of evil and despair. Message matters considerably more than content, to me at least.
   
4. That said, of course we should not take in more objectionable material than necessary to gain an understanding of 1) why these things are evil, 2)how Satan uses these things as tools to our downfall, 3) why humanity is drawn to these things, and 4) any truth that might be hidden behind these painful experiences. Again, we should seek the guidance of the Spirit in knowing which things are worth viewing because of the truth they express, and which are too filthy to be worth our trouble. Also, we should be wary of letting these worldly things hold greater sway in our lives than the truths we can learn from the gospel.
   

Now that those "spherical chickens" are out there for anyone to pop, let's get to what I see as the real heart of the matter. In thinking about this issue, I've realized that the real reason I feel comfortable reading and seeing things that others would find objectionable is not found in this logical train of arguments. The real reason I feel okay--actually, I don't just feel okay, but I actually feel a desire to read these things--is because of my uncle.

Alright, not because of my uncle per say, but because of the chain of emotion and truth that his story stands for in my life. Let me explain. I had an uncle who really lived what the world would consider the high life. He was a wealthy man working in the world of finance, closing lots of big deals and raking in tons of money. He went to wild parties, spent time with lots of beautiful women, took vacations often, lots of expensive clothes, sports equipment, huge house, etc. He had pretty blatantly rejected the religious values taught to him by my grandparents. Then, on 9/11, his business crashed along with the trade centers, sending him spiraling into a world of alcohol and depression. Our family lovingly worked with him to try to pull him out of both of these things, and at some times he really seemed to be doing better. But eventually, he died unexpectedly of alcohol-related causes.

Now, to your standard religious audience, his story could serve as a great example of how those who live the way of the world are living a lie and of how it will eventually come back and destroy them. And I feel sad to admit that I felt sort of vindicated when I saw what my uncle had become, because his success in spite of his immoral behavior had always rubbed me the wrong way. I felt that his downfall justified my righteous living.

But then I went to his funeral, and my whole perspective changed. All anyone could talk about at the funeral was how generous and considerate my uncle was. He was always giving his money away to those in need, and not in small quantities either. The story that touched me the most was from after his business had failed and he had lost everything. At this same time, one of my other uncles was laid-off and his family was struggling financially. One day, my troubled uncle showed up at their door and handed them a sum of money that he could ill afford, considering he was unemployed. Where I saw only immoral decisions and poor choices, these people had seen through to his good heart.

It hit me like a flash of lightening: no person is worthless. No person is without a moral compass. Even those who seem to reject everything that I would regard as true and good have some shred of the light of Christ in their lives. It's what keeps them living from day to day, gives them direction, and may eventually lead them to the truth. A person has to work extremely hard to be completely free from the light of Christ. (One of the nice things about being a Mormon is that I get to believe that very few people will actually go to hell.) As I see it, these small moral compasses within people are what will eventually draw them to the gospel. Conversely, to people at a higher level than me, it may look as though I have no morals, that I am so useless in the cause of good as to be hardly worth bothering about. We cannot divide people into good and evil because no person is wholely one way or the other. We all carry some measure of offensive, immoral things inside ourselves. Is your opinion completely invalid because of the imperfections you have?

You see, portrayal of evil is only a problem when we see at as something outside ourselves. From that perspective, we can safely say, "I already know how wrong those people are, so I don't need to see what they are doing to themselves and others. I wouldn't do it myself and it can only bring me down." But, when we realize that the people perpetrating this evil are actually part of humanity, part of us, then the reason for the portrayal of it comes to life: we must understand what led these people to become this way, and what redeeming qualities they have which might allow us to lead them out. When we come to see these people as our brothers and sisters, then we feel the need to read about them, to understand them, in order to see some way to keep ourselves out of their position and to find a way to help them to the better place we've found.

The Savior has seen and experienced all the evil in the world, both as the victim and the perpetrator. How can we truly become like Him unless we seek to understand the suffering and the malice and the ignorant mistakes of others? I do not believe that it is possible to gain charity for these people until we reach out to them with an understanding head and a sympathetic heart. This unconditional love does not deny that what it portrayed is evil, but it still loves the person underneath--the love of truth that is at the heart of each person. Then we can truly call out to them and say, "I understand your truth. Even underneath all those layers of immoral behavior, I can see your heart. Let me expand on it with what I have, and together we can progress towards that truth that neither of us have, until the brightest day."

Brittany McComb: A Question of Scale

Well, I had another blog topic for tonight, but after reading about Brittany McComb on Ben's blog, I guess I'll put off that post till tomorrow. It'll make a good Sunday post anyway.

So here's the short and fast story of Brittany McComb. Brittany becomes valedictorian. She writes a valediction about how Christ and God have changed her life. The administration, fearing legal ramifications, edits out of her speech all references to Christ and scripture. Girl tries to give original speech anyway, but the microphone is cut by the administration. Legal ramifications and talk shows ensue (see link above).

Now, keep reading, because I don't think I'm going to take the side you expect. In keeping with my Circle of Knowledge theory, I can see that each side in this debate has some truth behind it, and the conclusion I've come to seems to be somewhere in the middle. Keep in mind, I am not really interested in the legal aspects behind this, but the moral ones. After all, we can only have just laws if we truly understand the morals they should be upholding.

But the relationship between law and morality is another topic for another time. Back to the subject at hand.

Two opposing experiences keep coming back to me as I think about this issue of eliminating Christ from public. First, I remember sitting in my Theory of Knowledge class in high school listening to a girl explain how her belief in chakra energies and related religious concepts had healed her life, and were really much better than western medicine. Being from Utah, my high school did have quite a large percentage of LDS students (probably 50%), but since it was part of the IB program, it had a little more of an international flavor than most. This particular class I knew contained quite a few agnostics/atheists, several Jews, and at least one Hindu and one Muslim. But despite our apparent diversity and tolerance at other times, the feeling in the classroom was extremely uneasy, and the students in the class were clearly not comfortable with what she was saying to us. But none of us were willing to say anything about it.

I still wonder why we were uncomfortable. Was it the mere action of advocating a religious view in a classroom that made us uncomfortable, or was it that the philosophy being advocated? Had it been a Christian (or more particularly LDS) student speaking about Christ and the atonement, would we--by which I mostly mean I--have felt the same way? I know I have sometimes felt uncomfortable at the way other Christian religions proselyte. But if it were my own religion being preached to a crowd of essentially captive unbelievers, who hadn't asked to hear about it, would I feel the same way? Essentially, I think the delimma boils down to this: can we, or should we, separate the act of proselyting from the beliefs being proselyted? To this, I would hope I could say yes, that I could look at the act of proselyting from an objective point of view, even if it was my own religion. But this is something you may have to convince yourself of.

Once we admit this separation, and that proselyting can cause discomfort in an audience, we can see how there is some valid point for concern over public religious expression. It boils down to the same debate of the ages: individual rights versus public security. I mean, we have laws against verbal harassment for the same sort of reason: even though it does no physical harm, it can cause discomfort in other ways. In the same way, I hate being harassed by the protestors at General Conference or at the Manti Pagent. It is extremely disconcerting, even heartbreaking, to be forced to listen to your religion be thrashed and trashed, even indirectly by those who are simply preaching other views, in a place where it is not wanted.

Which leads me to the other experience I keep thinking about. This one I didn't experience personally, but did hear from a first-hand source. A German-language teacher at my school used to occasionally have a free reading period in class as a reward after quizzes or tests. However, when some students began to read their scriptures during that time, the teacher ordered them not to do so because it violated her freedom of religion. (In the end, she was not allowed to ban specific religious texts from the period, and instead decided to do away with it all together.)

I would hope that anyone reading that story would realize that what the teacher did was completely irrational. Having someone else read a certain book in your classroom is nearly impossible to rationally construe as a violation of your rights. Clearly there is a matter of degrees here. What Brittany McComb did is not on par with what the garment-waving protestors do at General Conference. A general scale of the relationship between religious practice and the public goes something like this, from most-easily acceptable to totally unacceptable:

• private religious practice
• public religious practice
• expression of beliefs in public
• proselytising and advocating a belief system
• denigrating/descriminating against someone else's belief system

What the Brittany McComb incident represents is a confusion of this scale. Much of the civil rights movement worked hard to prevent the descrimination aspect of this scale, which I hope every rational person could agree is the right thing to do. And the Bill of Rights clearly protects the first two, the right to religious freedom. But what to do with these middle two is the problem.

I firmly believe that we do not live in a society that wants to eliminate expression of beliefs and proselytising all together. There may be some extremists who actually do believe that, but being an eternal optimist, I must believe that the majority are fairly reasonable people such as myself. The thing is that these reasonable people have noticed, as I have, that religious speech is a delicate issue, that at some times it is appropriate to voice belief and at others it is not. Even Christ said, "neither cast ye your pearls before swine" (Matt. 7:6), which I take to mean that we don't need to proselyte in every conversation (which bothers me to no end about some evangelicals), but we should instead reserve our expression to appropriate moments and audiences.

So in the end, after reading the full text of Brittany McComb's speech, I must agree with the school's decision to edit her speech. I disagree with the idea that there is no place for Christ in a graduation speech, but I think that the way she did so was not appropriate. Her speech focuses on her conversion to Christianity rather than her school experience. Her talk might actually fit in at an LDS testimony meeting, but not a graduation. Had she done as she claimed to have done and simply cited her religion as one of the influential factors in her life, in a quiet statement of belief rather than proselytizing, then the school board might have been in the wrong (morally, though perhaps not legally).

(However, after that, I must add that I do agree that this suppression of religion movement is targeted towards Christians. Notice in my two experiences that although there was discomfort in both, action was only taken in the situation involving a Christian religion. I however do not believe this to be due to a particular hatred of Christianity. Rather, it is due to two factors. First, other religions still fall under the protection of our fear of being accused of discrimination. We fear that our actions to preserve our own comfort will be miscontrued as racism or beliefism. Witness how the media deals with Islamic extremism--overly careful to make sure that the audience knows they are not against the religion, but merely some of its expressions. The second factor is simply the nature of Christianity. We are a missionary religion, and therefore we feel the need to speak about our beliefs more, which in turn gives us more opportunities to speak out in the wrong times and wrong places. Again, there may be some who do discriminate against Christianity, but not a majority, by far.)

Crimes of Passion: A Geek Manifesto (of sorts)

So, I took the Geek Test, scoring a delightful 27.7%. (Miserable compared to my Harry Potter Obsession score, though the quiz is slightly outdated. . . . I think I get bonus geek points for actually thinking about rewriting that test.) And oddly I am only ashamed that my geek score is not higher.

Why do I enjoy being a geek? Actually, the question is why is being a geek so out of fashion? In my modernism class, we talked about our society's obsession with entertainment. One of the most important qualities we look for in people is if they are funny (ie entertaining), and the insult that can stop anything flat is "boring."

And yet, we also strangely avoid all semblance of being entertained by anything. Oh sure, you can say you enjoyed a movie, or like a particular song. But if you go much further than that, express any real enthusiasm for anything, much less anything academic, and you are labeled a fanatic (from which we get 'fan'), nerd, perhaps narrow in your interests. In other words, a geek. Really, the word geek encompasses so many interests--science, math, games, literature, music, history, philosophy, movies, theater, band, choir, books, sports--that it has come to mean anyone an abnormally large passion for anything.

And we scorn geeks.

Thus, our society has come to laugh at people who care. This can't be a healthy thing. Though some people might call geekhood an "unhealthy obsession," I certainly think over-indulging in the things you enjoy is much better than this repression of passion that we have in modern society. At least geeks are willing to admit that they care about something, and to follow through with the things they care about. They are willing to be happy, and not because of the big things either. We don't have to wait to get perfect grades, a huge raise, a trip to Hawaii, and perfect relationship to enjoy life. Geeks can enjoy themselves by learning a new word, figuring out that physics formula, watching a new TV show, getting a new RSS feed, or playing dress-up for-goodness-sake! Why does the modern world insist on being so hard to please, when happiness can be found in all these small things that geeks see everyday!

Which brings me to the centerpiece of this blog entry, which I found the other day and made me feel immensely satisfied, especially considering recent posts. I found out about this geek dating website, Geek2Geek, (not of my own accord--it was advertised on PotterCast . . . oh, never mind) built for the express purpose of getting geeks together. Now, I'm not advocating internet dating here. I bring up this website because of this list:

Top 10 Reasons Why Geeks Make the Best Catch

It’s not generally realized that geeks (male and female) are the best catches. Americans focus on the glamor of the good-looking, the male jock and the statuesque female, and tend to make fun of second banana characters like Urkel. Yet, geeks (a.k.a. nerds, etc.) provide the opportunity to have much longer, more stable, and happy relationships. Here are the top ten reasons:

1. Geeks don't cheat. Geeks know that the grass only seems greener on the other side. They instinctively stay devotedly loyal to their lovers through thick and thin. Their social skills are also not well developed enough to support an affair.

2. Geeks appreciate their mates. Since you are likely to be one of the first persons a geek has ever had a significant relationship with, you will be treated well. A geek knows that there aren’t a whole lot of other possibilities. Frankly, geeks aren't quite sure how they ended up with the person they have attracted. When you date a geek, you know that geek will be yours for as long as you wish.

3. Geeks haven't formed bad relationship habits. After years of dating other people, the socially successful have become too confident to be intimate, think of partners as being only for their self-gratification, and focus on making themselves happy. None of this is true of a geek. The lack of past romantic partners allows the geek to approach lovers with the zest of a neophyte. Geeks are not full of romantic confidence. However, once encouraged, they are eager to please and enjoy their relationship.

4. Geeks are good at the things they try. Every geek has skills passionately developed over a long period of time. It could be role playing, chess, hacking, playing video games, or the ability to properly assemble a computer. So you know that geeks won't quit until they have learned how to make their relationship the best.

5. Geeks are not interested in status. Geeks became geeks because they chose to spend their time doing things that would not necessarily make them popular with everyone else in school, like sports and fashion. The ability to resist peer pressure is important to geeks. This means that a geek is more interested in your happiness than in looking good to others.

6. Geeks have imagination. Boredom is important to avoid to the game playing geek. A geek will seek new and creative ways to play, and this translates to relationships as well.

7. Geeks are happy and successful in their chosen field. No matter what their education level, geeks are able to make good incomes doing work that they enjoy. That eliminates one of the most frequent causes of relationship problems, since people who don’t like their jobs may take it out on their significant other.

8. Geeks are analytical. If they don’t get it right the first time, they look at what they did and figure out what to change. And when they DO get it right, they still keep finding ways to improve on it.

9. Geeks can concentrate. Geeks can focus their energy on one task with total intensity. Granted, the task they are focusing on may have more to do with writing new software for their Blackberry, but the fact remains that a geek, once set upon a task, tirelessly sets about to achieving a goal.

All of which means that…

10. Geeks want to be the best at what they do. So they try harder. And they never stop trying.

Amen to that. This list can really apply to anything geeks do. In summary, geekhood may not be the only path to happiness, but it certainly is one that works. Geeks have the power. Embrace your inner geek.

(If you need somewhere to start, you should check out Avant Game, which was recently highlighted on Blogger's Top 10 List. This whole pervasive gaming idea is awesome! I've been doing some geek-like exploring of the genre, and found several really cool ideas. If you'd like to get started on alternate-reality gaming, try one player games like Planetarium or Conspiracy, go in deep with EDOCLaundry, or start out small with this riddle game (I'm still stuck on #1).

Anyone for Tombstone poker? I'd have to learn poker first, or modify it for another card game, but it might be worth it.)

Seriously, be a geek. You will feel better.

BYU's Political Vaccuum

BYU has an interesting political dynamic. Unlike most American universities, the majority of students are white, church-going conservatives, who tend to be staunch Republicans and think Bush is the greatest thing since sliced cheese. They support the war in Iraq, defy the UN, and dare anyone to tell them they're wrong. But the small but vocal Liberal Mormon minority has dramatically increased its presence in recent years. They are vegetarian,--perhaps even vegan--watch R-rated movies and drink caffeine on a regular basis, and are distinctly disappointed in the narrowminded views of their flag-waving fellow students. What they lack in numbers, they make up in their outspoken opinions about their clearly "enlightened" ways.

And in between? There isn't one. There is a distinct void where moderate voices should be on BYU campus. Those who aren't in one of these two camps seem either apathetic or oblivious in the "bubble." If you've ever tried to speak out moderate position, you've probably been accused of being in one of these groups (probably by someone further right or left than you).

Example in point: the BYU Political Review's recent articles on President Bush's wiretapping program (or domestic spying/eavesdropping, if you're against it). In the February 27th issue, we have an article from Dave Lassen, praising the virtue of the government and deriding anyone who would criticize zecret programs. "We have duly elected representatives who the voters have charged with the responsibility to keep our country safe," he says, firmly trusting the government and its current system of checks and balances. Though he acknowledges that the program may or may not be legal, he still insists that questioning the government in matters of national security is wrong, wrong, wrong.

Predictably, the next week, Max Stoneman fires off an article from the LM point of view. His "fears of government surveillance" show a complete distrust of the government reminiscent of the 60s or 70s. He concludes that the only way to be sure the government doesn't initiate some Black-Helicopters-type program is with a constant stream of leaking and whistleblowing.

Both of these articles really bother me. Though both acknowledge they know little about the wiretapping program and aren't sure it is legal or not, they are quick to pull out the standard party lines on what's right and wrong, just in case. Neither complete trust or distrust in the government makes any sense in my mind. Each issue must be weighed individually, and as of yet, the public doesn't have enough information to form any sort of decent opinion on the wiretapping.

And yet we keep forming opinions. I can understand this from career politicians who need to support their ideals no matter their correctness, but I expect better from church members and specifically from BYU students. For a school that purports to put out morally-aware students, we've done a pretty poor job.