A Cautionary Tale

On Valentine's Day Brandon took me to the Hammer Museum to see the Van Goghs. They were stunning, as expected.

But the painting that has really stuck with me is a portrait of Miss Edith Crowe by Henri Fantin-Latour (1874).

The little blurb beside it did not discuss the painting--it just said something about how the artist, in general, tried to paint portraits of people that reflected something about their personality. Perhaps the author was hesitant to say what this portait said about Miss Crowe, because it struck them as it did me: highly unflattering.

The background is nothing but darkness, and Miss Crowe is looking determinedly away from the viewer, staring into space, with shoulders slightly hunched. I was struck with sadness that she seemed as one very carefully contained, as one deliberately withholding herself from the world with a secret rage and bitterness at those who had hurt and rejected her. Her face is carefully neutral, revealing nothing, and her hands are folded in front of her as if at once to protect herself, and to maintain an external calmness.

Probably others viewing the same portrait have a different interpretation of Miss Crowe. She could alternatively be read as merely the quiet, introspective type, lost in her own world. Or perhaps as one who is facing severe disappointments but has steadfastly maintained her composure. The woman herself could easily have been all of the above.

But the way she appeared to me--as one embittered, choosing isolation--reflects the "cautionary tale" I need to hear at the moment. Because at times I feel that the gifts I have to offer others are scorned, rejected, misunderstood. It's hard to put myself out there, knowing the risk--but it is a risk I must continue to take every time I feel compelled to offer my often unusual perspective. It is a risk worth taking no matter how many times I am dismissed or ignored or even attacked, because I do not want to become a bitter hermit.

And I will try to become better myself at listening to others, accepting and affirming whatever they have to say and to offer of themselves. It is an immeasurable loss when any person withdraws from others because they have been hurt and rejected. And it happens all too often.

"Lord, I want to be more loving in my heart ... "

[The photo comes from the Hammer Museum website]

On the Bogus and Absurd Idea that "Corporations Are Not People"

The Citizens United case has been coming up in the news again, and I felt I just had to write this:

If a corporation has no right to free speech because it is not a person, then, since it is not a human being, it also cannot hold political opinions. An impersonal entity cannot decide to support a political candidate. It also should not have property rights, and certainly cannot make decisions about how its monies will be spent. And yet somehow, “corporations” do support candidates, do make decisions, do spend money--well, that’s very mysterious--Oh, wait, I get it now--there are people running the corporation! Aha--it’s not the “corporation” that wants to say something about politics--it’s the human beings who control the corporation. Well, that explains a lot. And do the people controlling corporations who want to run political ads have a right to freedom of speech? Damn right they do.

Do progressives really believe that a corporation is a soulless, faceless, inhuman, yet intelligent entity--perhaps a sophisticated computer programmed to maximize profits without regard for human life? I doubt it. I think if progressives really stopped and thought about it, they would realize they’re not trying to limit free speech of non-human entities; they’re trying to censor wealthy businesspersons whom they assume to be conscienceless cut-throats, motivated by greedy self-interest.

The idea that corporations have no right to free speech "because they are not persons” is bogus and absurd. Limiting corporate speech means limiting the speech of the persons who control the corporation.

On the other hand, it is indeed disturbing that people with buckets and buckets of money at their disposal can presumably influence elections in a way that the average citizen cannot. I do think we should be concerned about the influence of big money on elections (and that’s not limited to Fortune 500 companies--unions, police and fire departments, special interests groups, etc. do the same thing).

But the real problem seems to be that we don’t trust the American public to educate themselves enough to make an informed choice when voting--we think of the voters as ignorant sheep, easily swayed by whatever fool thing they see on t.v. If that is true, it is disgraceful and unfortunate, but curtailing other people’s constitutional rights is not a realistic nor a just solution to that problem.

There is no easy or simple fix for this (as mentioned here), but a step in the right direction is to increase or maintain (not decrease) protections for freedom of speech--particularly on the internet, where one can publish for free and creativity can actually speak louder than money. If we are concerned that only some voices (those of the wealthy) are being heard, while others (the voices of the poor) are not, the solution* is not to silence the wealthy, but to give voice to the poor.

Another step forward would be for the average apathetic voter to start taking more civic responsibility (and I really should write another post about that sometime)--also, to fix public education so that people learn how to think ...

*I guess I should say, “the solution that is in accordance with the First Amendment of our Constitution”--since some people don’t seem to mind a solution that violates the First Amendment.

Does the English Language Foster Elitism?

A little while back I read an interesting blog post arguing that part of the success of Finland’s public school system (as measured in the PISA study) may have to do with the Finnish language itself—in particular, the highly regular pronunciation and spelling, as well as the simple, logical morphology.

So I was thinking that conversely, perhaps the English language fosters elitism:

- The grammatical rules are confusing and complex enough that a large percentage of the population makes errors all the time (e.g. using “I” instead of “me,” confusing its/it’s, who’s/whose, to/too, less/fewer, forgetting the predicate nominative, etc.).

- The pronunciation of English is not just irregular in terms of spelling, but is the result of many languages mixing together, which makes it very unmelodious (as opposed to, say, the romance languages)—and I would imagine this makes “foreign” accents particularly pronounced.

- English has a lot of words, and knowing a lot of words not only facilitates communication, it facilitates complex conceptual analysis—because the subtleties in meaning between similar but distinct words help the mind to distinguish between similar, but different concepts.

So anyway, although people often say English is easy to learn, I presume they mean it’s easy to learn enough to be able to converse with people—but even after a person has become fluent, there are many, many more words and rules to commit to memory.

The vast complexity of English makes it easier for people who grew up in more “educated” households to look down on people either who didn’t or whose parents spoke English as a second language, etc.--and not just to look down on them for their mistakes, but actually to disdain their lesser facility with the language.

And then of course, you can throw in the differences between the English of dominant white culture and the English of African-American sub-culture and you have a whole new layer of language-based elitism to consider …

Learning to Drive

It must have been quite an ordeal for my father ("Pop") teaching me to drive. I seem to have no natural aptitude for it whatsoever--all those times I stepped on the break instead of the gas, or vice versa ... And that time he was teaching me his rule of thumb for how far to stop behind another car at the traffic signal:

Pop: It should look like the tires of the car in front of you are gently resting on the hood.
Me: I can't see the hood.

Or that one time ....

Pop: Just choose one lane and stay in it.
Me: There are two lanes here?!

I only failed the driving test once. I ought to have failed the second time, too, as evidenced by the fact that a week after getting my license I totaled my car.

So anyway, I always joke seriously about what a horrible driver I am.

The other night I dreamed I was in the backseat of a van, doing something on my laptop. I looked up and there was no one in the driver's seat. I was thinking the van could actually drive itself better by following the ruts in the road, but eventually I got anxious and decided I ought to get behind the wheel.

At first the dream struck me as just another joke about my complete lack of skill as a motorist. But I've been realizing, it's really about how often I let other people take charge and refuse to be a leader myself. It's so much easier to let someone else set the agenda, make the decisions, take the initiative. Let them go out on a limb. Let them be responsible. In fact, at times I'm so afraid of taking charge, I feel safer with no one in the driver's seat at all.

I complain in private about how my denomination wastes obscene amounts of paper; I lament the fact that so many congregations, so many pastors are just going through the motions and have no vision, no fire, no Spirit; I observe the lackluster sermons, boring liturgies, and vacuous songs used in worship; and sometimes I daydream about preaching great sermons and developing a great liturgical program, and implementing strategies for bringing congregations to life ... but to actually do any of that would take a great deal of initiative; it would mean taking risks, it would mean making a decision and committing myself to a mission on the basis of personal conviction--not because anyone else expected it, or had told me to do it, but because I believed in it.

When people ask me how I envision my first call, I usually tell them I'd like to be an Associate Pastor--Teaching Pastor, or Pastor of Family Ministries, something like that. Just start out somewhere, get some experience, and kinda go from there.

But I'm realizing now, I am not satisfied with my own answer. I don't want to just get a job, learn to meet expectations, and fall into a routine. I don't want to be just sitting in the backseat working away at some little project. No; it's time to learn how to drive.

The Internet and the Perils of Democracy

Reflections on SOPA and PIPA

It took me a while to get into facebook, but since becoming only partially employed I have time to read various articles friends have posted. A lot of them are written by professional journalists. Many of them are just blogs written by who knows whom. The amazing thing is, the blog posts feel just as authoritative as anything published by a news corporation.

The internet has demonstrated that the power of the written word is not actually in the supposed authority of the institution publishing it (New York Times, Chicago Sun, etc.), but in the author's ability to persuade. The internet is helping us face the shocking, frightening fact that the people in charge (the ones who write congressional bills and newspaper editorials and economics text books) are oftentimes not any smarter or more knowledgeable or better equipped to make decisions than many of the smart people you know in person.

A blog post by an intelligent "nobody" who's done the research may, in fact, carry more weight (be more persuasive) than an article on the NPR website. This makes the internet an incredible tool for democracy because it encourages the free flow of ideas and opinions regardless of what the-powers-that-be would like to disseminate as the prevailing "knowledge." And this is why SOPA and PIPA are such a horrifying possibility.

But I also feel like pointing out here: democracy doesn't work very well. Because most people are not very good at vetting their sources of information. They just find someone who's saying what they want to hear and don't bother to think critically about their opinions or do any real research.

The internet really is an amazing gift, but it's one that is often squandered. I feel that as a populace, we Americans have proven that we don't deserve the gift of democracy. We, the people, don't deserve to be the ruling class. The thing is, our elected officials have proven the same thing. We've elected people who are truly representative of us: not fit to rule.

So often I try to think about politics and eventually break down and say "AUUGH, it's all a big huge mess and there is no way to fix it" ... which is true. But I would be disappointed in myself if that was how I ended this post.

There is no way of fixing things ... people are lazy and stubborn and the internet will always be wasted on those who just use it to puff themselves up with hot air. But I can be part of the countering tide, those who use the internet to become better citizens.

And I can be numbered among those who appreciated the gift of the internet enough to call my congressperson and my senators and fight the misguided, idiotic, unconstitutional legislation that is threatening the freedom of the press.

(I can also enjoy the 50 Brilliant Fan-Made Re-Mixes, Mash-ups, and Supercuts That Will Be Strictly Prohibited under SOPA while they are still available.)

that familiar sinking feeling

You know, people have always said of Brandon that he's the absent-minded professor type. He's always losing things--hats, books, keys--he's left his debit card in the ATM--I occasionally have to remind him not to leave his wallet behind on store counters and restaurant tabletops.

So in relation to Brandon I've adopted this identity as the-one-who-knows-where-things-are. I keep pretty good track not just of where I've left things, but where Brandon has left them. So when he desperately asks, "Where are my keys!?" I can say, "I think they're under the sweater, on the armchair nearest the kitchen." And sure enough, there they are. It's fun. Kind of like being a magician or a psychic.

The thing is, though ... I'm actually also the absent minded professor type and kind of even worse about losing things than Brandon is ...

Last week I lost my glasses again. They must have fallen out of my bag somewhere in San Diego when I was removing other objects. I said to Brandon, "Well, at least I didn't leave my wallet on the bus stop this time, like I did several years back." Definitely should not have said that. Yesterday ... apparently, my wallet fell out of the bag it was in somewhere between the grocery store and home.

I'm really bummed, not just because of the hassle it's going to be to get my Driver's License replaced--and my insurance cards, library cards--and the loss of $25.20 and a McDonald's gift card and a Cold Stone coupon and a Ralphs coupon for Kikkoman soy sauce (see, I do keep good track of my things--except when they fall out of bags and coat pockets without me noticing)--but that wallet had sentimental value.

Well, I kind of always wanted to get a new wallet that would be slimmer, but I really loved the old one. It was so pretty, and I bought it the very first time I visited Mexico as a teenager. Maybe sometime I'll blog about that trip.

Anyway, it's such an awful feeling to have lost something--that moment when it starts to sink in--it's really gone--gone forever, as far as I know, and I'm never getting it back. No, it's not where I left it. I know because I keep good track of my things, and I know exactly where it ought to be. And it's not there.

I am sad for the things I've lost ... but ... maybe someone else will find them and appreciate them. One person's loss could be another's free gift. Especially the cash and McDonald's gift card. Enjoy, anonymous person(s)!

Calendar Madness!

Okay, so, I love calendars. I mean, I really, really love calendars. And, well, I think I'm ready to admit that my calendar addiction has gotten a little bit out of hand. I was at the 99 cent only store ... and I just couldn't resist--there was the Wonders of the World calendar ... and the motivational sayings knock off calendar ... and I decided that was it; I already had four calendars on the walls at home, I only needed two more ... but then I saw the Mickey Mouse calendar.

Oh, I stood there, holding the first two calendars, and the bags of yogurt covered raisins and dill potato chips(! what a find!), and the amazingly-high-quality-for-being-at-the-99-cent-only-store scarves, and the 2 for 99.99 cents(!) muzak CDs, and the post-Christmas sale holiday decor, all the stuff just about falling out of my arms because I didn't realize I was going to buy so much so I didn't get a basket, and I debated with myself--do I really need the Mickey Mouse calendar? Should I put one of the other calendars back? No, no, they're all so great! I have to have them all! I NEED THEM!

I love calendars! When I was a kid, the first of the month was such a happy day because there were so many calendars in our house to be changed--at least seven, usually more, I think. Calendars! (Sorry, that was just a spontaneous exclamation of my love for calendars.)

I guess I don't love every calendar. Some calendars are of no interest to me. The ones with puppies or kittens or gardens or flowers or motorcycles or classic cars or planes or golf courses or lighthouses. No, no, none of those calendars will do. But beautiful, artsy calendars, calendars of antique maps and paintings that are great but not super famous and photographs of spectacular landscapes and unusual animals in funny poses (but not with costumes or props).

Calendars! Calendars are so great because every month you get a new picture, a new beautiful image to enjoy. And calendars are so great because they evoke a different a mood for every month--how else would those of us who grew up without traditional American seasons know to identify January with snowy landscapes and May with pink and purple flowers and September with apples and turning leaves?

Oh calendars. And then after the year changes, they can be saved and used as gift-wrapping!