I saw a commercial on the Discovery Channel before I took the dog for a walk. It was saying something about garbage, and how people are using its previously unknown potential for energy. The commercial, I mean. Not the dog. I haven't taught her that trick yet.
Anyway, on the commercial a guy was saying something to the effect of "people don't realize what they have." It reminded me of pollution and global warming, and how we don't see problems until they're big enough to swallow us in one bite. Like the spare room in my apartment.
Beka and I bought a new bookcase from some neighbors. We moved things around, and she had to go to the spare room to get some things. This proved quite a task since the room was full of boxes. The job changed to reorganizing the room and effectively took another hour from our precious week night downtime. It got a little big for my tastes.
Little messes build up until they're too big. It reminds me of global warming, the world, and spirituality.
I recently mused about how the old grasshopper and the ant story could be spiritually useful. When times are good, we never prepare ourselves for the attacks that come quite punctually and inevitably. We'd rather strut down the sidewalk to "Staying Alive" until severe temptation, emotional distress, or a car hits. Then we pray.
I remember someone telling me about integrity, and how it's about the little things.
I don't remember who it was, but I want to thank him. I'm pretty sure it was a him.
The quirk is, no one seems to care about little things. We almost seem to want everything to build up so we can be brave and heroic when it flattens us.
Deal with problems when they're small. It seems so simple yet impossible to do.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Douglas Adams quotes
I've been waay contemplative lately (can you tell?), so I decided to lighten things up with some random Douglas Adams quotes. Enjoy.
He attacked everything in life with a mix of extraordinary genius and naive incompetence, and it was often difficult to tell which was which.
He hoped and prayed that there wasn't an afterlife. Then he realized there was a contradiction involved here and merely hoped that there wasn't an afterlife.
Humans are not proud of their ancestors, and rarely invite them round to dinner.
In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.
It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes.
It is no coincidence that in no known language does the phrase 'As pretty as an Airport' appear.
There is a theory which states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.
You live and learn. At any rate, you live.
Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so.
The last time anybody made a list of the top hundred character attributes of New Yorkers, common sense snuck in at number 79.
He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.
Nothing travels faster than the speed of light with the possible exception of bad news, which obeys its own special laws.
Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job.
He attacked everything in life with a mix of extraordinary genius and naive incompetence, and it was often difficult to tell which was which.
He hoped and prayed that there wasn't an afterlife. Then he realized there was a contradiction involved here and merely hoped that there wasn't an afterlife.
Humans are not proud of their ancestors, and rarely invite them round to dinner.
In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.
It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes.
It is no coincidence that in no known language does the phrase 'As pretty as an Airport' appear.
There is a theory which states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.
You live and learn. At any rate, you live.
Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so.
The last time anybody made a list of the top hundred character attributes of New Yorkers, common sense snuck in at number 79.
He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.
Nothing travels faster than the speed of light with the possible exception of bad news, which obeys its own special laws.
Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Book Review: Loser
I don't usually review kid lit, but this one is an exception. Loser, by Jerry Spinelli is about kids, but the running theme works for all ages. People value others based solely on skill.
I was reminded of this as we read a news report about who wouldn't be worth saving in case of a pandemic. It's the same question, how do you put value on a life?
The character the title refers to starts out as a "young pup", running happily, racing cars without the concept of losing to them. He begins school and enthusiastically nods as the teacher calculates how many days of school they have before graduating high school. He's happy because the number is so big, he thinks school will never end.
In later grades other students notice he's different. He doesn't get good grades, he sucks at sports, and he even trips when he walks. Before long he is branded a
loser.
Does it matter that he's optimistic and likable? That he's determined to overcome challenges he deemed worthwhile? Can the poor guy do anything right? It will take us 200 pages (give or take a few) to find out.
Whether it's beginning for us or we've faced it for years, the struggle is the same. Survival of the Fittest is alive and well, even in Christian circles. After all, a little healthy competition never hurt anyone, right?
Popularity contests continue until death, but thankfully in the Kingdom there's a place for the losers.
I was reminded of this as we read a news report about who wouldn't be worth saving in case of a pandemic. It's the same question, how do you put value on a life?
The character the title refers to starts out as a "young pup", running happily, racing cars without the concept of losing to them. He begins school and enthusiastically nods as the teacher calculates how many days of school they have before graduating high school. He's happy because the number is so big, he thinks school will never end.
In later grades other students notice he's different. He doesn't get good grades, he sucks at sports, and he even trips when he walks. Before long he is branded a
loser.
Does it matter that he's optimistic and likable? That he's determined to overcome challenges he deemed worthwhile? Can the poor guy do anything right? It will take us 200 pages (give or take a few) to find out.
Whether it's beginning for us or we've faced it for years, the struggle is the same. Survival of the Fittest is alive and well, even in Christian circles. After all, a little healthy competition never hurt anyone, right?
Popularity contests continue until death, but thankfully in the Kingdom there's a place for the losers.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Community and Experience Part 2
I grew up in church and spent a good part of my life in youth group, but I didn't start to "get" the whole community thing until I started living in Korea. Still, I had a ways to go on the sharing food thing. I liked my food.
My early years in Korea weren't very, well, communal. I had my own place, and when I wasn't teaching or eating the occasional meal with Korean friends I kept myself entertained the best I could. I watched D.V.D. s on my laptop, journaled a lot, and read the best literature the Korean bookstores had to offer. I was a lower-budget version of Will, the main character from About a Boy, without the lying or the stuff after that. But it was kind of similar.
When I watched the movie a line seemed too familiar. Life is like TV, "and I was a star of the Will Show. Guest stars will come and go, but in the end it's only me." That was me. The difference was, I wasn't happy about it. I was bored.
I asked some friends in church one evening what they did for fun on the weekends. The answer led me to the Hospitality House, a ministry for the military. I went one Saturday night and found a group of military, teachers, and Korean friends. We ate, sang, and shared testimonies all evening. Then the Bible study began.
It's encouraging to stay up most of the night listening to people. If there's one thing I learned, it wouldn't be from anything I said. For a couple of years, it was exactly what I needed.
I don't think it's coincidence that my wife and I met there. Once the focus was on friendships rather than courtship rituals, everything worked out.
Eventually we chose sleeping at night over Saturdays at the House as we went to church early Sunday morning. But I owe any sense of relationships to the time we spent in the Hospitality House.
The group in our church is smaller but more diverse vocationally, ethnically, and culturally. We gather in the basement of an office building in Gang Nam, a business district of Seoul. We give to missions and the poor, and use our unique positions and talents to help others and each other. We eat lunch together whenever possible. We're a family. I'll just say it-I love my church.
It finally feels like I'm part of a community, but I can't fault any local church for that. I could have had that anywhere; I just had to cancel the Matt Show first.
My early years in Korea weren't very, well, communal. I had my own place, and when I wasn't teaching or eating the occasional meal with Korean friends I kept myself entertained the best I could. I watched D.V.D. s on my laptop, journaled a lot, and read the best literature the Korean bookstores had to offer. I was a lower-budget version of Will, the main character from About a Boy, without the lying or the stuff after that. But it was kind of similar.
When I watched the movie a line seemed too familiar. Life is like TV, "and I was a star of the Will Show. Guest stars will come and go, but in the end it's only me." That was me. The difference was, I wasn't happy about it. I was bored.
I asked some friends in church one evening what they did for fun on the weekends. The answer led me to the Hospitality House, a ministry for the military. I went one Saturday night and found a group of military, teachers, and Korean friends. We ate, sang, and shared testimonies all evening. Then the Bible study began.
It's encouraging to stay up most of the night listening to people. If there's one thing I learned, it wouldn't be from anything I said. For a couple of years, it was exactly what I needed.
I don't think it's coincidence that my wife and I met there. Once the focus was on friendships rather than courtship rituals, everything worked out.
Eventually we chose sleeping at night over Saturdays at the House as we went to church early Sunday morning. But I owe any sense of relationships to the time we spent in the Hospitality House.
The group in our church is smaller but more diverse vocationally, ethnically, and culturally. We gather in the basement of an office building in Gang Nam, a business district of Seoul. We give to missions and the poor, and use our unique positions and talents to help others and each other. We eat lunch together whenever possible. We're a family. I'll just say it-I love my church.
It finally feels like I'm part of a community, but I can't fault any local church for that. I could have had that anywhere; I just had to cancel the Matt Show first.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Community and Experience Part 1
I'll end the series with the least entertaining parts. It's not fun, but it fits.
Book and film reminded me of my own experiences with community. About a Boy and the Beach especially hit too close in some areas. I shared some of that in the last part. Here's the rest, give or take a bit.
When I was young, I didn't see church as a community. I saw people in suits who were all concerned whether I behaved myself. My dad was a Christian school principal, and I was reminded how bad behavior would reflect on his leadership.
As for me, I wanted to sit with my friends and get away with as much talking and joking around as we could. That usually didn't work out so well.
I later outgrew that phase, and wanted to attend another church. The deeply spiritual reason was the girl I liked attended this other church. My parents were not so spiritually minded.
I attended youth group at our church, and met more girls I liked. (Different girls at different times. Give me some credit.) I was distracted from my spiritual meditations long enough to learn skits and songs we would perform as a group in churches, at nursing homes and at homeless shelters. I spent much of that time arguing about why all the guys in our group had to wear the exact same kind of shirts. In my deep maturity, I thought it looked gay.
We always gave a gospel presentation at the end of our performances. It was nice, but I don't remember a single conversation we had with any of the people.
Actually, I do remember a single conversation. We were at a nursing home and I had to leave early for some reason. One of the residents grabbed me by the arm and told me where I could sit. She was helpful, but misinformed. I was confused at first, but I eventually shrugged and exited.
I'm sure God used these visits, skits and songs, or more importantly the message behind them. The problem is, even as a Christian I didn't get it.
In college I church-hopped. It's a little hard to grasp community when you do that. However, I wove my way between college cliques and built some friendships.
I'd done that since I was a preteen on a school trip to a park. The other students from our Christian school were being weird and rude to a group of skaters. I hung out with them. Later, I received a lecture about how they were losers. Since they were nicer than my friends at school, I didn't understand.
In college I confirmed the truth-skaters are the kindest souls on the planet. It's been scientifically proven. I'd hang out with them, the TV and movie group (mostly), the Asians and South Americans. Come to think of it, I met many people with Asian backgrounds at different times long before I had considered living in Asia a possibility. Total coincidence, I'm sure.
My favorite memories of Liberty University involve the unique friendships. But I graduated without so much as a girlfriend, so I viewed the experience as a failure.
I came to Korea years later and learned a lot about community. I lived in a dorm room with Koreans who shared to an extent I hadn't yet seen. They'd take whatever was in the fridge, but they'd give in the same way. I complain about theft, but this wasn't it. It was a replacement of the word "mine" with "ours". I sort of regret getting my own little refrigerator for my room. I guess I was hungry.
Book and film reminded me of my own experiences with community. About a Boy and the Beach especially hit too close in some areas. I shared some of that in the last part. Here's the rest, give or take a bit.
When I was young, I didn't see church as a community. I saw people in suits who were all concerned whether I behaved myself. My dad was a Christian school principal, and I was reminded how bad behavior would reflect on his leadership.
As for me, I wanted to sit with my friends and get away with as much talking and joking around as we could. That usually didn't work out so well.
I later outgrew that phase, and wanted to attend another church. The deeply spiritual reason was the girl I liked attended this other church. My parents were not so spiritually minded.
I attended youth group at our church, and met more girls I liked. (Different girls at different times. Give me some credit.) I was distracted from my spiritual meditations long enough to learn skits and songs we would perform as a group in churches, at nursing homes and at homeless shelters. I spent much of that time arguing about why all the guys in our group had to wear the exact same kind of shirts. In my deep maturity, I thought it looked gay.
We always gave a gospel presentation at the end of our performances. It was nice, but I don't remember a single conversation we had with any of the people.
Actually, I do remember a single conversation. We were at a nursing home and I had to leave early for some reason. One of the residents grabbed me by the arm and told me where I could sit. She was helpful, but misinformed. I was confused at first, but I eventually shrugged and exited.
I'm sure God used these visits, skits and songs, or more importantly the message behind them. The problem is, even as a Christian I didn't get it.
In college I church-hopped. It's a little hard to grasp community when you do that. However, I wove my way between college cliques and built some friendships.
I'd done that since I was a preteen on a school trip to a park. The other students from our Christian school were being weird and rude to a group of skaters. I hung out with them. Later, I received a lecture about how they were losers. Since they were nicer than my friends at school, I didn't understand.
In college I confirmed the truth-skaters are the kindest souls on the planet. It's been scientifically proven. I'd hang out with them, the TV and movie group (mostly), the Asians and South Americans. Come to think of it, I met many people with Asian backgrounds at different times long before I had considered living in Asia a possibility. Total coincidence, I'm sure.
My favorite memories of Liberty University involve the unique friendships. But I graduated without so much as a girlfriend, so I viewed the experience as a failure.
I came to Korea years later and learned a lot about community. I lived in a dorm room with Koreans who shared to an extent I hadn't yet seen. They'd take whatever was in the fridge, but they'd give in the same way. I complain about theft, but this wasn't it. It was a replacement of the word "mine" with "ours". I sort of regret getting my own little refrigerator for my room. I guess I was hungry.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Books on Community Part 2
As I read The Irresistible Revolution I thought of the biblical truth that works without love, even if determined to change the world, are useless. As I read a violent and disturbing novel, I saw what a community without love could look like. The Beach made not only for an odd pairing with Claiborne's book, but also some interesting contrast.
Richard is British, and he finds himself in Thailand on vacation. But he's not a tourist. He makes it very clear that he's a traveler, and he refuses to waste time with people who are not. He finds other travelers and a mysterious map to an even more mysterious island. It's not much of a spoiler to say they find it. They also find a gathering of some additional travelers in an attempt at a Utopian, anti-tourist existence. Richard finds a friend with a game boy (this was written in the 90s) and fits right in.
At first I thought the community would be a cult. In a way, it was. However, it's selfishness that drives these people. They work and help each other because it's mostly convenient for them. Then they smoke pot and drink coconut booze (the professor would be appalled). It's all about entertainment in their utopia.
There's a lot of comparisons to the Vietnam war, mostly because Richard is obsessed with movies about it.
He enjoys the fact that they live near a pot field, not because he's a pothead, but because he's near danger. He likes it too much. Either because of this, or because the novel's by Alex Garland (writer of 28 Days Later), things don't stay pretty.
Maybe things don't stay pretty because there's no real basis of friendship. The people share a common bond, but is that deep enough? It doesn't seem deeper than their desires to please themselves.
What scares me about an over-the-top-violent book like this is the overall believability of it. I see their squabbles and I see ours as most humans. (Minus the pot in my case. Coffee's strong enough for me, thanks.) I see small groups within groups sectioned off, effectively avoiding diversity like the plague. All pretenses aside, it's all about survival of the fittest.
Here's a hint of the lack of diversity in friendships in the story. At the beginning we have some entertaining run-ins with interesting Thai characters. That doesn't last long, and I don't believe Mr. Garland wrote it that way by accident. Richard can't escape the natives fast enough.
What comforts me is the over-the-topness of the end. Real life wouldn't end that ridiculously violent. It still wouldn't be pretty, but perspective doesn't hurt.
This vulgar work of fiction scolded my own desires for friends who were more like me. It's all about video games, war games, adventure, and only having friends who can help feed those desires. I pray to love the unlovable when I can't even love the neighbors right under my nose. (Yes, even the one who demands protection money, but that's another story.)
The dirty book scolds me. Shame on it.
Richard is British, and he finds himself in Thailand on vacation. But he's not a tourist. He makes it very clear that he's a traveler, and he refuses to waste time with people who are not. He finds other travelers and a mysterious map to an even more mysterious island. It's not much of a spoiler to say they find it. They also find a gathering of some additional travelers in an attempt at a Utopian, anti-tourist existence. Richard finds a friend with a game boy (this was written in the 90s) and fits right in.
At first I thought the community would be a cult. In a way, it was. However, it's selfishness that drives these people. They work and help each other because it's mostly convenient for them. Then they smoke pot and drink coconut booze (the professor would be appalled). It's all about entertainment in their utopia.
There's a lot of comparisons to the Vietnam war, mostly because Richard is obsessed with movies about it.
He enjoys the fact that they live near a pot field, not because he's a pothead, but because he's near danger. He likes it too much. Either because of this, or because the novel's by Alex Garland (writer of 28 Days Later), things don't stay pretty.
Maybe things don't stay pretty because there's no real basis of friendship. The people share a common bond, but is that deep enough? It doesn't seem deeper than their desires to please themselves.
What scares me about an over-the-top-violent book like this is the overall believability of it. I see their squabbles and I see ours as most humans. (Minus the pot in my case. Coffee's strong enough for me, thanks.) I see small groups within groups sectioned off, effectively avoiding diversity like the plague. All pretenses aside, it's all about survival of the fittest.
Here's a hint of the lack of diversity in friendships in the story. At the beginning we have some entertaining run-ins with interesting Thai characters. That doesn't last long, and I don't believe Mr. Garland wrote it that way by accident. Richard can't escape the natives fast enough.
What comforts me is the over-the-topness of the end. Real life wouldn't end that ridiculously violent. It still wouldn't be pretty, but perspective doesn't hurt.
This vulgar work of fiction scolded my own desires for friends who were more like me. It's all about video games, war games, adventure, and only having friends who can help feed those desires. I pray to love the unlovable when I can't even love the neighbors right under my nose. (Yes, even the one who demands protection money, but that's another story.)
The dirty book scolds me. Shame on it.
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