It's snowing. Again. Four inches plus predicted by morning.
I'm becoming one of those characters in a Jack London story who watches the wolves coming over the frozen wasteland while I hide in the cabin, banging my head against the wall and moaning, "my God, my God, the everlasting snow," and drinking water glasses full of whiskey while my faithful husky looks on, contented because he's chewing a half-frozen strip of blubber and he doesn't understand what the problem could be.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Chinese comments
Every so often, I log on here, and I find someone has left a comment in Chinese. I don't read Chinese that well. Not at all, in fact. So if you intend for me to see it, may I suggest English. Or French. Or perhaps Latin. Greek? My Hebrew is a bit rusty. Sorry.
I just routinely delete the Chinese comments.
I just routinely delete the Chinese comments.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
I refuse to feel guilty
One of my students makes me tired, but I refuse to feel guilty.
She attends about half the time (health issues, apparently). She hasn't gotten around to buying the book, can't figure out that when the assignment sheet says something is due that she should work on it, shows up late, and seems to have another agenda during class (spent her time balancing her checkbook one session).
Today she got angry at me because she e-mailed me a paper and I don't have it. I suggested that if she e-mailed it, a copy is in her "Sent" folder. She took that as an insult.
I refuse to feel guilty.
She attends about half the time (health issues, apparently). She hasn't gotten around to buying the book, can't figure out that when the assignment sheet says something is due that she should work on it, shows up late, and seems to have another agenda during class (spent her time balancing her checkbook one session).
Today she got angry at me because she e-mailed me a paper and I don't have it. I suggested that if she e-mailed it, a copy is in her "Sent" folder. She took that as an insult.
I refuse to feel guilty.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Losing a name
This is a rough draft of something that might turn out to be the THIRD column! Jerry's amazed that I've already done two.
Back when I was in seminary, Christendom was divided neatly into about two pieces. Sort of an "us and them" thing.
Well, of course, there were more than two, but the Roman Catholics didn't count and neither did any of the members of Eastern Rite churches. (Though the Catholics are still the largest single denomination in the USA and the Eastern Orthodox Church is the second largest body of Christians in the world. But who's counting?)
Anyhow, the "us and them" of Protestantdom was the Liberals and the Fundamentalists. And we knew we didn't fit in very well with either one. Liberals, my seminary professors assured me, were godless pagans who made a point of ignoring Jesus and justified every kind of immoral behavior by saying that it's the modern acceptable norm. Fundamentalists were simple-minded folk who memorized the King James Version and had no clue that there were any doctrines beyond responding to an altar call.
We wanted to be something else. The "we" was people like Francis Schaeffer, Jerram Barrs, Egon Middelmann (my roommate for a while and a relation of Schaeffer). Interesting bunch. Google them. Anyhow, we knew we didn't want to lose sight of Jesus. We knew that the Christian faith isn't just for the shallow-minded. Ted Smith (a professor of graphic design at Washington University) knew that the truly tacky visual arts that were so common in churches didn't reflect God's nature that well. Lots of us college kids loved the six-word gospel choruses, but Egon liked to remind us that church music used to have a lot of depth, so we sang Bach chorales. As a congregation.
The "we" was bigger than my circle of friends and fellow church members in St. Louis. One example was Robert E. Webber of Wheaton College. I'll let you Google those names to figure out who I'm talking about.
We called ourselves "Evangelicals" to distinguish ourselves from the secular-influenced Liberals and from the simple-mindedness of the Fundamentalists.
Then we lost that name. It has picked up connotations of intolerance, prejudice, insensitivity to the plight of the poor and suffering, and a political agenda that includes establishing a right-wing christian theocracy. (Lower-case "c" intentional.) If you say that John Doe is an Evangelical preacher, people assume that he's mainly focused on easy believism, personal wealth and glory for himself, and is probably corrupt. If someone says that First Steeple Church is an active Evangelical congregation, we imagine them to be picketing some courthouse but never feeding the poor. Let the Salvation Army do that.
I think it's a sad loss, both of the name and of the direction.
Back when I was in seminary, Christendom was divided neatly into about two pieces. Sort of an "us and them" thing.
Well, of course, there were more than two, but the Roman Catholics didn't count and neither did any of the members of Eastern Rite churches. (Though the Catholics are still the largest single denomination in the USA and the Eastern Orthodox Church is the second largest body of Christians in the world. But who's counting?)
Anyhow, the "us and them" of Protestantdom was the Liberals and the Fundamentalists. And we knew we didn't fit in very well with either one. Liberals, my seminary professors assured me, were godless pagans who made a point of ignoring Jesus and justified every kind of immoral behavior by saying that it's the modern acceptable norm. Fundamentalists were simple-minded folk who memorized the King James Version and had no clue that there were any doctrines beyond responding to an altar call.
We wanted to be something else. The "we" was people like Francis Schaeffer, Jerram Barrs, Egon Middelmann (my roommate for a while and a relation of Schaeffer). Interesting bunch. Google them. Anyhow, we knew we didn't want to lose sight of Jesus. We knew that the Christian faith isn't just for the shallow-minded. Ted Smith (a professor of graphic design at Washington University) knew that the truly tacky visual arts that were so common in churches didn't reflect God's nature that well. Lots of us college kids loved the six-word gospel choruses, but Egon liked to remind us that church music used to have a lot of depth, so we sang Bach chorales. As a congregation.
The "we" was bigger than my circle of friends and fellow church members in St. Louis. One example was Robert E. Webber of Wheaton College. I'll let you Google those names to figure out who I'm talking about.
We called ourselves "Evangelicals" to distinguish ourselves from the secular-influenced Liberals and from the simple-mindedness of the Fundamentalists.
Then we lost that name. It has picked up connotations of intolerance, prejudice, insensitivity to the plight of the poor and suffering, and a political agenda that includes establishing a right-wing christian theocracy. (Lower-case "c" intentional.) If you say that John Doe is an Evangelical preacher, people assume that he's mainly focused on easy believism, personal wealth and glory for himself, and is probably corrupt. If someone says that First Steeple Church is an active Evangelical congregation, we imagine them to be picketing some courthouse but never feeding the poor. Let the Salvation Army do that.
I think it's a sad loss, both of the name and of the direction.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Newsletter Column: Arkenstone
Two leaders of the church here asked me to write a monthly standing feature for the new church newsletter. They may have gotten more than they bargained for. Anyhow, here's the "about" blurb that will go with the first copy, then below you'll see a couple of the early efforts.
We Christians tend to be very tribal too, and we are tempted to keep the "holy stones" (another meaning for the ancient word) to ourselves, not realizing the power of our treasure to be a meeting-point with other tribes.
About the column:
Back in the dawn of the ages, I came to Grace Haven Farm to work with Rivendell Arts Fellowship publishing Arkenstone magazine, which was to be a meeting point between the arts and Christianity. The name was taken from The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien, and is derived from an Anglo-Saxon word that means "precious stone." In the book, the dwarves claim the stone as a tribal treasure, but it ends up being a bargaining-piece to end the war between elves, dwarves, and men.We Christians tend to be very tribal too, and we are tempted to keep the "holy stones" (another meaning for the ancient word) to ourselves, not realizing the power of our treasure to be a meeting-point with other tribes.
Arkenstone: unChristian
I'm about halfway through reading a new book: unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity... and Why It Matters by David Kinnaman. It's scary—more frightening in some ways than the latest monster movie.
Kinnaman is a researcher with The Barna Group, a highly respected research organization that focuses on issues important to the church. They're on our side: Their aim is "to partner with Christian ministries and individuals to be a catalyst in moral and spiritual transformation." The research behind this book focused on "outsiders," those looking at the Christian faith from the outside, in two age groups, the "Busters" (those born between 1965 and 1983) and the "Mosaics" (those born between 1984 and 2002).
These outsiders have a pretty low opinion of us. One outsider from Mississippi said, "Christianity has become bloated with blind followers who would rather repeat slogans than actually feel true compassion and care. Christianity has become marketed and streamlined into a juggernaut of fearmongering that has lost its own heart" (page 15). This individual isn't the only one. Within this research group, 87% said we're judgmental, 85% said we're hypocritical, 72% said we're out of touch with reality, and 70% said we're insensitive to others. Only 55% said we consistently show love for other people, and 30% said Christianity is relevant to their lives.
We have a pretty low opinion of outsiders too. We call them names: "pagans," "the lost," and "unbelievers." We trivialize their problems. We figure it's OK to be deceptive if a higher end is in sight (just remember the Idaho Baptists and their attempt to sneak children out of Haiti).
No wonder both sides feel as if a war is going on.
Back in my school bus driving days, I had to break up a fight between two boys. When I asked what happened, one boy came up with the explanation: "It all began when he hit me back." The victim mentality will justify all sorts of nastiness.
Many Christians I've talked to seem to think there's a vast conspiracy going on, especially on the university campuses, to discredit the Christian faith. Professors apparently meet to discuss strategy and plan attacks. The truth is, especially on the university campus, that half the world doesn't even know we exist and the other half is afraid of us. They know that we want to gain political power, then enact all sorts of restrictions on intellectual and religious freedom. They know we hate the First Amendment.
And in this dreary circle, both sides face each other, never making contact, never actually understanding one another.
Kinnaman doesn't leave us there. Each chapter ends with specific suggestions for healing the breach. For example, the chapter on hypocrisy ends with an account of a Los Angeles area church that sponsored a series of meetings called "Confessions of a Sinful Church." Transparency—being honest about our lives, even about the problems our lifestyles have created—was the aim. It wasn't just a recruitment ploy, but a real apology, and it broke down some barriers between that church and the people in the community.
Kinnaman is a researcher with The Barna Group, a highly respected research organization that focuses on issues important to the church. They're on our side: Their aim is "to partner with Christian ministries and individuals to be a catalyst in moral and spiritual transformation." The research behind this book focused on "outsiders," those looking at the Christian faith from the outside, in two age groups, the "Busters" (those born between 1965 and 1983) and the "Mosaics" (those born between 1984 and 2002).
These outsiders have a pretty low opinion of us. One outsider from Mississippi said, "Christianity has become bloated with blind followers who would rather repeat slogans than actually feel true compassion and care. Christianity has become marketed and streamlined into a juggernaut of fearmongering that has lost its own heart" (page 15). This individual isn't the only one. Within this research group, 87% said we're judgmental, 85% said we're hypocritical, 72% said we're out of touch with reality, and 70% said we're insensitive to others. Only 55% said we consistently show love for other people, and 30% said Christianity is relevant to their lives.
We have a pretty low opinion of outsiders too. We call them names: "pagans," "the lost," and "unbelievers." We trivialize their problems. We figure it's OK to be deceptive if a higher end is in sight (just remember the Idaho Baptists and their attempt to sneak children out of Haiti).
No wonder both sides feel as if a war is going on.
Back in my school bus driving days, I had to break up a fight between two boys. When I asked what happened, one boy came up with the explanation: "It all began when he hit me back." The victim mentality will justify all sorts of nastiness.
Many Christians I've talked to seem to think there's a vast conspiracy going on, especially on the university campuses, to discredit the Christian faith. Professors apparently meet to discuss strategy and plan attacks. The truth is, especially on the university campus, that half the world doesn't even know we exist and the other half is afraid of us. They know that we want to gain political power, then enact all sorts of restrictions on intellectual and religious freedom. They know we hate the First Amendment.
And in this dreary circle, both sides face each other, never making contact, never actually understanding one another.
Kinnaman doesn't leave us there. Each chapter ends with specific suggestions for healing the breach. For example, the chapter on hypocrisy ends with an account of a Los Angeles area church that sponsored a series of meetings called "Confessions of a Sinful Church." Transparency—being honest about our lives, even about the problems our lifestyles have created—was the aim. It wasn't just a recruitment ploy, but a real apology, and it broke down some barriers between that church and the people in the community.
Arkenstone: School Prayer
This morning, while I was reading the comics online, I ran into one of those fake surveys. This one asked, "Prayer should be forbidden in schools. Agree? Disagree?" Of course, the survey, like the question itself, was a fake. It was just a come-on for a high-interest credit card application.
Has there ever been a serious proposal that some sort of atheist police would prosecute a kid for quietly thanking God for his lunch? Or praying for a better test grade? Or even praying that the teacher would forget about detention?
I grew up in Maryland, years and years ago. When I was in elementary school, we began each day with the Pledge of Allegiance, the Maryland state song (a creepy, bloodthirsty ditty that laments the fall of Baltimore to anti-slavery forces) and the Lord's Prayer. Somehow by the end of the ceremony, we'd pledged our loyalty to the country, the Old South, and God—in that order.
I remember it especially well because the official Maryland version of the prayer was from the King James Version, and we were supposed to say, "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." I didn't know what that meant, but I did know that my Presbyterian church upbringing (based on the Revised Standard Version) had me saying, "forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." I didn't know what that meant either, but I was quite careful to say MY words while they were saying THEIR words. It was a matter of tribal pride for me.
Some will point out that since school prayer was banned we've had an increase in drug abuse, teenage pregnancy, and illiteracy. We have also had an increase in computer use, PowerPoint slides, and free school lunches.
This is the point where I have to ask what prayer actually does.
When a Jewish girl mouths a Christian prayer because the teacher told her to, does God actually begin interacting with her? When an atheist says the words just to avoid trouble, does he become more moral? Or is it just words? More than once, the child who was picked to lead the day's ceremony faced the flag, laid a hand on his/her left pectoral muscle, and began, "Our Father..." Sleepy kid's brain found the wrong meaningless recitation for the moment.
We lost school prayer in Maryland because Madalyn Murray started a lawsuit, which ended up in the Supreme Court, against the Baltimore City Public Schools. No, the Court didn't forbid praying; it forbid the schools requiring prayer. I'd call that an advance for true Christianity. No more kids simply mouthing the words to get the morning started. No more unbelieving teachers required by their contract to lead prayers.
When you give evidence in court and you swear "so help me God," do you actually expect God's assistance? Does anyone else? When you handle our money with "In God We Trust" inscribed, does your faith get a boost? Does anyone's? I would suggest that such casual use of God's name actually cheapens the faith—in the same way that saying "God damn that hammer" cheapens the concept of eternal judgment.
The upside? Nowadays, when a kid prays at the start of a school day, he knows who he's talking to.
Has there ever been a serious proposal that some sort of atheist police would prosecute a kid for quietly thanking God for his lunch? Or praying for a better test grade? Or even praying that the teacher would forget about detention?
I grew up in Maryland, years and years ago. When I was in elementary school, we began each day with the Pledge of Allegiance, the Maryland state song (a creepy, bloodthirsty ditty that laments the fall of Baltimore to anti-slavery forces) and the Lord's Prayer. Somehow by the end of the ceremony, we'd pledged our loyalty to the country, the Old South, and God—in that order.
I remember it especially well because the official Maryland version of the prayer was from the King James Version, and we were supposed to say, "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." I didn't know what that meant, but I did know that my Presbyterian church upbringing (based on the Revised Standard Version) had me saying, "forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." I didn't know what that meant either, but I was quite careful to say MY words while they were saying THEIR words. It was a matter of tribal pride for me.
Some will point out that since school prayer was banned we've had an increase in drug abuse, teenage pregnancy, and illiteracy. We have also had an increase in computer use, PowerPoint slides, and free school lunches.
This is the point where I have to ask what prayer actually does.
When a Jewish girl mouths a Christian prayer because the teacher told her to, does God actually begin interacting with her? When an atheist says the words just to avoid trouble, does he become more moral? Or is it just words? More than once, the child who was picked to lead the day's ceremony faced the flag, laid a hand on his/her left pectoral muscle, and began, "Our Father..." Sleepy kid's brain found the wrong meaningless recitation for the moment.
We lost school prayer in Maryland because Madalyn Murray started a lawsuit, which ended up in the Supreme Court, against the Baltimore City Public Schools. No, the Court didn't forbid praying; it forbid the schools requiring prayer. I'd call that an advance for true Christianity. No more kids simply mouthing the words to get the morning started. No more unbelieving teachers required by their contract to lead prayers.
When you give evidence in court and you swear "so help me God," do you actually expect God's assistance? Does anyone else? When you handle our money with "In God We Trust" inscribed, does your faith get a boost? Does anyone's? I would suggest that such casual use of God's name actually cheapens the faith—in the same way that saying "God damn that hammer" cheapens the concept of eternal judgment.
The upside? Nowadays, when a kid prays at the start of a school day, he knows who he's talking to.
It's just better
This is one the days when church music in Latin just sounds better. After listening to a bunch of it, my public school Latin classes are coming back to me and it even makes sense.
Too bad that doesn't work for Greek and Hebrew.
Too bad that doesn't work for Greek and Hebrew.
Friday, February 19, 2010
'Tis the season
Yestereve as I came back from Akron, I passed by at least two houses that are still showing Christmas lights. Not just the generic candles in the windows, mind you, or the patriotic red-white-blue lights in the tree of one Akron home, but genuine multicolored lights. One had a wreath.
I went to the gym, and as I was changing, the TV was playing "Silent Night."
The snow at the intersections is often above the roof of my car.
Dairy Queen is now open.
I went to the gym, and as I was changing, the TV was playing "Silent Night."
The snow at the intersections is often above the roof of my car.
Dairy Queen is now open.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Roomie
Sunday evening, my new roommate, Jared, finally moved in for real. I've put a lot of effort into clearing all my junk from his room (though it means that the rest of the apartment is a wreck at the moment). His parents are in Brazil for at least a couple of months—then perhaps at the end of the summer moving there permanently.
I'm not quite sure what I expected from an 18-year-old roommate. The real person is pretty much like an 18-year-old kid. He's got a girlfriend who seems to rivet his attention with almost constant online conversation. He's not too thrilled with cleaning up his quarters. His food tastes aren't too gourmet (ramen and pizza). He's pretty happy with the idea that he really can do what he pleases (within logical limits). His school is off today for snow, but I'm working. He walked down to the church, where he will probably help get ready for the church dinner this Saturday. His idea. I'm not sure when he'll be back, but that's his affair, not mine.
I'm very pleased to have him around, though I sometimes grumble under my breath. I guess I'd do that at any roommate who doesn't do things exactly my way, though. The apartment doesn't seem so empty any more.
I'm not quite sure what I expected from an 18-year-old roommate. The real person is pretty much like an 18-year-old kid. He's got a girlfriend who seems to rivet his attention with almost constant online conversation. He's not too thrilled with cleaning up his quarters. His food tastes aren't too gourmet (ramen and pizza). He's pretty happy with the idea that he really can do what he pleases (within logical limits). His school is off today for snow, but I'm working. He walked down to the church, where he will probably help get ready for the church dinner this Saturday. His idea. I'm not sure when he'll be back, but that's his affair, not mine.
I'm very pleased to have him around, though I sometimes grumble under my breath. I guess I'd do that at any roommate who doesn't do things exactly my way, though. The apartment doesn't seem so empty any more.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Learned it from the comics
I'm often amazed at what I learn and where I learn it. Today's haul was entirely from the comic strips:
- I heard about the Red Sox Truck Day (which is tomorrow) from "Non Sequitur".
- "Sherman's Lagoon" introduced me to the box jellyfish, a genuine animal which possesses one of the most lethal toxins on earth.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Going to get published
The pastor of my church has asked me to write a short column for the monthly church newsletter. How cool is that! From his comments I conclude that he thinks church members are isolated from the world and need to know something about the "outsiders" and how they think.
Just yesterday, I was asking myself two questions: Why do I feel so alienated from this church? Why don't I simply go elsewhere? I've never had a satisfactory answer to number two, but number one is a no-brainer. I teach in a secular university, love art and music, and generally am not at all afraid of the world. Over the years, I've gotten to know Muslims, witches, and militant atheists. My secretary at Ashland is firmly convinced that I'm Jewish. I love thinking—both my own and other people's. By contrast, many of the people at the church (particularly the ones who have been there for a while) absolutely dislike thinking, and have a very firm "us/them" view of the world. In this construction, the outsiders have a plan going to sink Christianity, and (apparently) have meetings to discuss strategy. To listen to the rhetoric, you'd think the church is planted in the heart of the old Soviet Union, not in a place where Christians are the majority and the outsiders fear us.
I don't think the above is my first column. I'm not sure what will be, but apparently I'll get to do it. Probably better get a draft going so I can get it through the editorial process.
Just yesterday, I was asking myself two questions: Why do I feel so alienated from this church? Why don't I simply go elsewhere? I've never had a satisfactory answer to number two, but number one is a no-brainer. I teach in a secular university, love art and music, and generally am not at all afraid of the world. Over the years, I've gotten to know Muslims, witches, and militant atheists. My secretary at Ashland is firmly convinced that I'm Jewish. I love thinking—both my own and other people's. By contrast, many of the people at the church (particularly the ones who have been there for a while) absolutely dislike thinking, and have a very firm "us/them" view of the world. In this construction, the outsiders have a plan going to sink Christianity, and (apparently) have meetings to discuss strategy. To listen to the rhetoric, you'd think the church is planted in the heart of the old Soviet Union, not in a place where Christians are the majority and the outsiders fear us.
I don't think the above is my first column. I'm not sure what will be, but apparently I'll get to do it. Probably better get a draft going so I can get it through the editorial process.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Facebook loses its mind
Just when I thought I had the world figured out (I found the raisins at Kroger and assembled a Sauder chest of drawers), things got weird again.
The new Facebook layout apparently shows me everyone else's comments, but I can never see my own. How weird. So if I make a comment in the "What's on your mind?" space, it will never appear with everyone else's. (Yes, I know I can find it my clicking "My profile," but I had sort of expected it to be out there on the "News Feed" page.)
Maybe there's some odd self-effacing thing going on here that I'm not supposed to be that interested in my own comments or what people respond to them. I'm hoping others can see them.
I wouldn't be at all surprised if this were some form of "flood control." I would be tempted, if things moved faster, to actually have large group conversations. As it is, the "wall" metaphor is more like painting graffiti and seeing whether someone has responded the next evening.
The new Facebook layout apparently shows me everyone else's comments, but I can never see my own. How weird. So if I make a comment in the "What's on your mind?" space, it will never appear with everyone else's. (Yes, I know I can find it my clicking "My profile," but I had sort of expected it to be out there on the "News Feed" page.)
Maybe there's some odd self-effacing thing going on here that I'm not supposed to be that interested in my own comments or what people respond to them. I'm hoping others can see them.
Late-breaking
Oh ye of little faith! It does move my stuff over there—it just takes between 30 and 40 minutes to do it. That really changes the dynamic of an online conversation. It's not like a talk. More like sending old-fashioned paper letters back and forth. Post something. Go make dinner. Come back and see if it worked. Someone has something to say. Maybe another hour and my response will get back to him.I wouldn't be at all surprised if this were some form of "flood control." I would be tempted, if things moved faster, to actually have large group conversations. As it is, the "wall" metaphor is more like painting graffiti and seeing whether someone has responded the next evening.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Snowed in (sort of)
It's not really that bad out there, but mentally I'm so set up for a snow-in. Got lots of food. Cleaning the apartment. Baking oatmeal raisin bread. Did three loads of laundry this morning.
I wonder how my mother's doing. She's probably unaware that the Washington area is totally shut down. They turned off the subway and stopped the busses. The interstates are closed and the government offices sent everyone home early on Friday. I wonder what it would be like if Washington simply stopped doing anything for a little while.
I wonder how my mother's doing. She's probably unaware that the Washington area is totally shut down. They turned off the subway and stopped the busses. The interstates are closed and the government offices sent everyone home early on Friday. I wonder what it would be like if Washington simply stopped doing anything for a little while.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The center of the universe
I'm about to grade more papers (surprised?) and I know what the first one will be. I assigned the students to read and respond to an article from Time magazine. One student's response is that the article is stupid because it uses big words that she can't understand. I get that a lot. The Universe has one center. It's me, and everything else is judged by my standard. Do I like Shakespeare? No. He's stupid. Is Robert Frost too intricate for me? Yes. He's an idiot. Do I think a comma belongs here? Of course—and that settles it.
The problem, of course, is that these ultimate deciders usually have a very limited experience of both literature and plain old vocabulary. So if they are right (and which one do I choose to worship?) I can't say "superannuated" (a word in the article that caused particular trouble).
College is a pain, too, when you are the smartest person in the whole place, all the textbooks are beneath you, and nobody will recognize that. You've got to suffer all these idiots for four years to get your B.A.
The problem, of course, is that these ultimate deciders usually have a very limited experience of both literature and plain old vocabulary. So if they are right (and which one do I choose to worship?) I can't say "superannuated" (a word in the article that caused particular trouble).
College is a pain, too, when you are the smartest person in the whole place, all the textbooks are beneath you, and nobody will recognize that. You've got to suffer all these idiots for four years to get your B.A.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Adobe lazy?
Steve Jobs thinks so.
I dunno. They gave me quite a workout tonight. I just wanted to print out a PDF with a margin larger than 1/8 inch (maybe I could actually see the letters on the edge that way). 40 sheets of paper later and several failed work-arounds, and I got it! I feel properly exercised! And it only cost me about $2 in printer supplies!
I'd tell you the secret, but no. You LIKE the output to run outside the printable area. Adobe knows that.
I dunno. They gave me quite a workout tonight. I just wanted to print out a PDF with a margin larger than 1/8 inch (maybe I could actually see the letters on the edge that way). 40 sheets of paper later and several failed work-arounds, and I got it! I feel properly exercised! And it only cost me about $2 in printer supplies!
I'd tell you the secret, but no. You LIKE the output to run outside the printable area. Adobe knows that.
Life Changes
Job
Put in an application for a full-time permanent-ish job at North Central State College. It's about the same amount of work as I do now, but with less driving and the possibility of health insurance. Do I want to move into a school where the point has always been to find excuses to fail people? Do I want to teach students who all think English is a way for the college to extort more money from them? Will NCSC realize that they were unreasonable to post a job that begins in the middle of the semester? Only time will tell.Roommate
I'm less than 24 hours from Jared moving in. I really like him and I'm looking forward to this, but it will be a very difficult change. Suddenly I won't be living just for myself. Suddenly I'll have to keep track of someone else's schedule because he needs me to be in a specific place at a specific time. No more wandering through the house in my underwear before I get coffee made. No more spontaneous decisions to just stay in Akron very late.Neither one of is us particularly neat by nature, but the clutter of two of us put together will be impossible. I'll absolutely NEED to enforce some order around there.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Idaho and Haiti
We Christians have a fatal attraction to stupidity. At least it seems so.
Putting the best possible face on the attempt by Idaho Baptists to pull (Snatch? Kidnap? The press used terms like "scoop up".) 100+ children from Haiti just after the earthquake:
Putting the best possible face on the attempt by Idaho Baptists to pull (Snatch? Kidnap? The press used terms like "scoop up".) 100+ children from Haiti just after the earthquake:
- Apparently there was almost no advance planning except a fundraiser.
- The Christians totally ignored immigration laws of three countries (USA, Haiti, Dominican Republic).
- The first batch of 33 children were accepted on the say-so of a local pastor—they were assumed to be orphans in spite of the protests of some that they had living parents.
- The only way to get them adopted to the USA would have involved (at least) some kind of forgery to get the kids papers, etc.
- Several of the kids claimed that they had been told they were going to a summer camp.
And the faithful back home who are praying for them refer to the problems as "Satanic opposition." Maybe it's not Satan. Maybe God doesn't quite want his followers to get involved in something as high-handed and cruel as this.
Which just raises the question whether an obviously illegal, poorly-conceived, arrogant idea should be pursued in God's name, hoping that the eventual good will cause people to forget how it all came about.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Comments to the blog
Twice now in the last week, I've logged on and found that I had "unmoderated comments" waiting for me. This means that someone said something in response to a post (Hooray!) and that I just need to approve it. Both were in Chinese.
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