Posts
So, I'm not entirely sure, but I'm starting to think this whole humans-coexisted-with-dinosaurs thing is much bigger among crazy Canadian evangelicals than among crazy United States evangelicals. I mean, sure, this is just anecdotal evidence, but... first of all, the first time I heard someone comment on the issue, it was a Canadian. I was thinking about this because I was just reading some article and through a series of clicked links I ended up on some Canadian Christianity site, reading a piece about a Canadian politician who "stood up for" Christianity a while back and ticked off a list of "beliefs" which he "defended": The earth is 6000 years old. Adam and Eve are (were?) real people. Humans lived alongside dinosaurs. And, maybe there was another belief, I forget.
I don't know, but I keep seeing Canadians spouting off about this, while U.S. evangelicals are concentrating on good old-fashioned pursuits like killing abortion doctors and stealing elections for Bush/Cheney. I did hear about that creation museum in Kentucky the other week, but since I haven't been there, how do I know the dinosaur you can ride with a saddle isn't in the Canadian wing? I'm just sayin' ...
Friday, September 18, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The very next thing you should do ...
...is watch American Blackout. EVERYONE should see this film. It's available on DVD, and you basically have no excuse for not watching it. While it is about disenfranchisement of black voters, it is also about much more. Namely, it will remind you of all the horrible things that were done to steal the 2000 and 2004 elections for Bush and Cheney. Of course, some of us paid attention over the last decade, and have been talking about these issues for years. But I know that many of you either did not pay attention, or heard only the usual chorus of U.S. media that refused to fact-check, or ask questions, or stand up to the lies.
Florida, September 11th, the war, Ohio, the voting machines, and all sorts of other insidious nonsense -- this is a good summary of all the crap that for some reason U.S. citizens and media were happy to endure. I never understood it -- any of you who have known me since 1999 know I never understood it!
That smarmy bow-tie dude -- what is it, Tucker Carlson? -- is in the documentary. He railed against Cynthia McKinney, in particular that she called for an investigation into the September 11th attacks and demanded answers from the people in our government who stood to profit from the whole mess (which became the whole Bush Mess Administration). He said:
"Here you have Cynthia McKinney accusing, essentially, the president of being an accessory to mass murder, and doing it for profit."
I don't see the problem with that. The only inaccuracy in the statement is that Dubya wasn't the president -- he was a usurper who stole the election.
Three cheers for American Blackout!
Florida, September 11th, the war, Ohio, the voting machines, and all sorts of other insidious nonsense -- this is a good summary of all the crap that for some reason U.S. citizens and media were happy to endure. I never understood it -- any of you who have known me since 1999 know I never understood it!
That smarmy bow-tie dude -- what is it, Tucker Carlson? -- is in the documentary. He railed against Cynthia McKinney, in particular that she called for an investigation into the September 11th attacks and demanded answers from the people in our government who stood to profit from the whole mess (which became the whole Bush Mess Administration). He said:
"Here you have Cynthia McKinney accusing, essentially, the president of being an accessory to mass murder, and doing it for profit."
I don't see the problem with that. The only inaccuracy in the statement is that Dubya wasn't the president -- he was a usurper who stole the election.
Three cheers for American Blackout!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Did you hear Kim Clijsters had a baby?!
Last night I made up a drinking game during the women's final of the U.S. Open. In my game, you take a drink every time a commentator mentions Kim Clijsters' daughter. When they show the daughter in the stands? Two shots!
I have watched a lot of the U.S. Open this year, or been around while Brian had it on TV in the background, and I tell you they have not tired of talking about Clijsters' motherhood. While they may be briefly distracted by bright young star Melanie Oudin or Serena's rant, as soon as Ms. Clijsters is mentioned, it is all about the motherhood.
In case you haven't heard -- incessantly -- she took time off from tennis and had a baby, who is now 18 months old. The toddler attended the match last night. They pushed her nap later than usual that day. I know all that because it was mentioned approximately three hundred and eighty-two times in the U.S. Open coverage. I suppose it is endlessly fascinating for some people that a woman could have a baby and then go back to playing professional tennis and win the U.S. Open. But is it really just an admiration of her physical ability to get back in shape? Is it a general fascination with women who have a child and a career? Or is it that many sports commentators spend a great deal of their time talking when they have nothing noteworthy to say? I suspect some combination of the three.
The only problem with my drinking game is that I wasn't playing it. After the big festive wedding of one of Brian's college friends up at the Otsego Resort in Gaylord, Michigan on Saturday, Sunday was my recovery day filled with water and iced coffee. I was relaxing on the couch after a brief evening walk, and my only refreshments during the match were two cookies. Even so, it was the best U.S. Open drinking game ever. I so should have told you about it sooner.
I have watched a lot of the U.S. Open this year, or been around while Brian had it on TV in the background, and I tell you they have not tired of talking about Clijsters' motherhood. While they may be briefly distracted by bright young star Melanie Oudin or Serena's rant, as soon as Ms. Clijsters is mentioned, it is all about the motherhood.
In case you haven't heard -- incessantly -- she took time off from tennis and had a baby, who is now 18 months old. The toddler attended the match last night. They pushed her nap later than usual that day. I know all that because it was mentioned approximately three hundred and eighty-two times in the U.S. Open coverage. I suppose it is endlessly fascinating for some people that a woman could have a baby and then go back to playing professional tennis and win the U.S. Open. But is it really just an admiration of her physical ability to get back in shape? Is it a general fascination with women who have a child and a career? Or is it that many sports commentators spend a great deal of their time talking when they have nothing noteworthy to say? I suspect some combination of the three.
The only problem with my drinking game is that I wasn't playing it. After the big festive wedding of one of Brian's college friends up at the Otsego Resort in Gaylord, Michigan on Saturday, Sunday was my recovery day filled with water and iced coffee. I was relaxing on the couch after a brief evening walk, and my only refreshments during the match were two cookies. Even so, it was the best U.S. Open drinking game ever. I so should have told you about it sooner.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Whatever Wilson
I agreed with absolutely nobody on Thursday, September 10th. Here were the two things I thought: 1. I was not really bothered by Representative Wilson shouting "You lie!" during President Obama's speech and 2. I have no problem with "illegal" non-citizens receiving health care under a reform plan. We'll tackle these one at a time.
Representative Joe Wilson shouted what I think he believes: that Obama's plans for health care overhaul as well as proposed legislation in Congress pay lip service to denying benefits to "illegals" but will ultimately be unable to prevent "illegals" from receiving benefits. This may be true. Undocumented aliens do all sorts of things that the government does not allow them to do, such as cross the border and work without authorization. Wilson, and apparently many others, are extremely concerned with whether the health care reform is going to make it easier for them to start/continue receiving health care at government/taxpayer expense.
I personally find it interesting, amusing, and a little bit exciting that Wilson not only feels so strongly about this but also did not keep silent about his belief. Shortly before the outburst happened, I was dining in a restaurant/brewery which had several TV screens silently broadcasting different sporting contests: Melanie Oudin to my left, a baseball game behind me, and to the far right, Obama vs. the World. When we saw the assembled crowd rising and clapping, my tablemates and I wondered if this would be like the State of the Union, where we always find it tiring and hypocritical that the audience stands and claps. Not only is it a waste of time, but it's hypocritical posturing, a kind of showmanship of enthusiastic, schmoozing "support" for a "good point" the "President" makes. It became most tiresome of all (and led me to use that last set of quotation marks around President) during the George W. Bush Administration, when I was routinely sickened by any Senators or Representatives standing and applauding, let alone the supposed opposition party. How I wish that a Democrat -- any Democrat -- would have had the guts to shout "You lie!" to that liar of liars, surrounded by his lying vice-president and lying cabinet.
I couldn't believe that the next day these same dinner companions of mine were as outraged as the rest of the Obama supporters around the country at Rep. Wilson. One minute they were with me decrying the sycophantic posturing, the next they were morally outraged at the shouting of two heartfelt words which I considered a welcome relief from said posturing.
Besides, I said, what is the big deal? I was thinking about the House of Lords and House of Commons in England, or even the U.S. Continental Congress, where one finds the assembly shouting insults and pounding canes on the floor in protest. It's a healthy debate. Who cares?
And the whole idea of donating to Wilson's opponent's campaign the next day was even more laughable. While I admire the cheekiness of it, along the same lines as the campaign last fall to make donations to Planned Parenthood in Sarah Palin's name, I think it is sad that all these do-gooders were willing to do that when they have never even researched or contributed to the candidates running in their own congressional districts. Nor have they financially rewarded the opponents of the many political figures who have done far worse, such as allowing torture and war to continue unchecked.
As for the underlying issue itself, health care for undocumented aliens, I think there should be a way for everyone to get health care, every day, no matter what country they live in/are visiting/come from. I learned in law school how racist and flawed U.S. immigration law is. Anyone who understands it would think the same thing, to the extent the morass of complicated laws is understandable at all. I think the people who are going to be denied benefits should have been allowed to come here legally in the first place. There is a popular misconception that everyone who has entered the country illegally could have just come legally but were too lazy/criminal -- and this is absolutely not so.
This is what finally bothers me most about the Representative Wilson outrage. Everyone is irrationally mad at him for challenging Obama (Hillary can probably sympathize with him on that), but do these angry people want health care for "illegal immigrants"? I see Republicans AND Democrats falling all over themselves to ensure that the so-called "illegals" won't be covered. So where do they get off criticizing someone who stands up for that principle?
Gail Collins wrote in The New York Times that she "would have been willing to bet that we had a national consensus on the undesirability of a Congressman yelling out 'You lie!' during an address by the President of the United States. But no. It turns out there are quite a few people who think this is a good idea." She then talks about anti-Obama Taxpayer Marchers, Tea Party Patriots, and birthers. Sorry, Ms. Collins -- I am none of those things. Instead, I am a more-liberal-than-not person, I have never listened to Rush Limbaugh, I thought schoolchildren should hear Obama's speech, and I am very much for health care reform and a public option. But I am capable of thinking critically and not getting caught up in the latest viral Gobama firestorm. Also, I have no racist anti-immigrant sentiments that need to be hidden behind my pro-Obama blather.
Representative Joe Wilson shouted what I think he believes: that Obama's plans for health care overhaul as well as proposed legislation in Congress pay lip service to denying benefits to "illegals" but will ultimately be unable to prevent "illegals" from receiving benefits. This may be true. Undocumented aliens do all sorts of things that the government does not allow them to do, such as cross the border and work without authorization. Wilson, and apparently many others, are extremely concerned with whether the health care reform is going to make it easier for them to start/continue receiving health care at government/taxpayer expense.
I personally find it interesting, amusing, and a little bit exciting that Wilson not only feels so strongly about this but also did not keep silent about his belief. Shortly before the outburst happened, I was dining in a restaurant/brewery which had several TV screens silently broadcasting different sporting contests: Melanie Oudin to my left, a baseball game behind me, and to the far right, Obama vs. the World. When we saw the assembled crowd rising and clapping, my tablemates and I wondered if this would be like the State of the Union, where we always find it tiring and hypocritical that the audience stands and claps. Not only is it a waste of time, but it's hypocritical posturing, a kind of showmanship of enthusiastic, schmoozing "support" for a "good point" the "President" makes. It became most tiresome of all (and led me to use that last set of quotation marks around President) during the George W. Bush Administration, when I was routinely sickened by any Senators or Representatives standing and applauding, let alone the supposed opposition party. How I wish that a Democrat -- any Democrat -- would have had the guts to shout "You lie!" to that liar of liars, surrounded by his lying vice-president and lying cabinet.
I couldn't believe that the next day these same dinner companions of mine were as outraged as the rest of the Obama supporters around the country at Rep. Wilson. One minute they were with me decrying the sycophantic posturing, the next they were morally outraged at the shouting of two heartfelt words which I considered a welcome relief from said posturing.
Besides, I said, what is the big deal? I was thinking about the House of Lords and House of Commons in England, or even the U.S. Continental Congress, where one finds the assembly shouting insults and pounding canes on the floor in protest. It's a healthy debate. Who cares?
And the whole idea of donating to Wilson's opponent's campaign the next day was even more laughable. While I admire the cheekiness of it, along the same lines as the campaign last fall to make donations to Planned Parenthood in Sarah Palin's name, I think it is sad that all these do-gooders were willing to do that when they have never even researched or contributed to the candidates running in their own congressional districts. Nor have they financially rewarded the opponents of the many political figures who have done far worse, such as allowing torture and war to continue unchecked.
As for the underlying issue itself, health care for undocumented aliens, I think there should be a way for everyone to get health care, every day, no matter what country they live in/are visiting/come from. I learned in law school how racist and flawed U.S. immigration law is. Anyone who understands it would think the same thing, to the extent the morass of complicated laws is understandable at all. I think the people who are going to be denied benefits should have been allowed to come here legally in the first place. There is a popular misconception that everyone who has entered the country illegally could have just come legally but were too lazy/criminal -- and this is absolutely not so.
This is what finally bothers me most about the Representative Wilson outrage. Everyone is irrationally mad at him for challenging Obama (Hillary can probably sympathize with him on that), but do these angry people want health care for "illegal immigrants"? I see Republicans AND Democrats falling all over themselves to ensure that the so-called "illegals" won't be covered. So where do they get off criticizing someone who stands up for that principle?
Gail Collins wrote in The New York Times that she "would have been willing to bet that we had a national consensus on the undesirability of a Congressman yelling out 'You lie!' during an address by the President of the United States. But no. It turns out there are quite a few people who think this is a good idea." She then talks about anti-Obama Taxpayer Marchers, Tea Party Patriots, and birthers. Sorry, Ms. Collins -- I am none of those things. Instead, I am a more-liberal-than-not person, I have never listened to Rush Limbaugh, I thought schoolchildren should hear Obama's speech, and I am very much for health care reform and a public option. But I am capable of thinking critically and not getting caught up in the latest viral Gobama firestorm. Also, I have no racist anti-immigrant sentiments that need to be hidden behind my pro-Obama blather.
Monday, September 07, 2009
No-Labor-Whatsoever Day
Enjoying this holiday weekend in Michigan, where we will be for the next month or two, maybe longer, who knows? The autumn is a blank and mysterious slate just waiting for Brian and me to write upon it with new jobs and adventures. Meanwhile, we have kicked off said autumn with a fabulous holiday weekend that included my first on-campus Michigan State tailgate, Brian's high-school reunion, bowling, very little sleep (at least during normal sleeping hours), and ridiculous amounts of beer. Ridiculous, I say.
I decided that I like the Michigan State campus a lot. Perhaps it was all the build-up of hanging out with so many Spartans in Blondie's in New York for the last two years -- but seriously, it's a great campus. I like the vibe. I like to think about college campuses. I am always fascinated by that choice of where to go to college. Most people making that all-important choice are, like, 16. Maybe 17, if they're lucky. And where to even begin?
I recall the brochures that started flooding my Phoenix mailbox back when I was in high school from universities around the nation, after we took the PSAT. Every new brochure that came intrigued me, but without visiting multiple schools, how is someone to know which is the right place for her? Most people default to their parents' schools or other family schools, as well as the local universities and the big ones in their home state, because those colleges are necessarily on their radars. It was this strong parental pressure that found me with a scholarship to BYU, but I was clearly not meant to be there, and ended up transferring away. Who knows if I was any more "meant" to be at USC ... it was stupidly expensive, but I had amazing journalism faculty and made a life for myself in Los Angeles because I went there.
I do stick by my original criterion that, all things being equal, it is a better idea to go to college out of state than in-state, and for god's sake at least leave the town/city in which you grew up. That is something I knew deep within myself even at the time, so maybe the 16-year-old self does know something about picking what one wants/needs from a university, even if it took me a couple of tries. I do not under any circumstances (NOT. ANY.) support going to the school down the street. I don't care who you are and what street the school is down. I don't care if you already think you're in the greatest city in the world. Get the f out and explore something new for four years. I was painfully reminded of this every day at Hofstra by all the Long Islanders who were so clueless about the world outside that little piece of land. Scary stuff.
I also think about travel ... if my kids ever want to take a year off and travel before university I will support that so strongly. If not, and they do go directly to college, then they are sure as hell going to study abroad while in school. And then I am going to come visit them wherever they are.
I decided that I like the Michigan State campus a lot. Perhaps it was all the build-up of hanging out with so many Spartans in Blondie's in New York for the last two years -- but seriously, it's a great campus. I like the vibe. I like to think about college campuses. I am always fascinated by that choice of where to go to college. Most people making that all-important choice are, like, 16. Maybe 17, if they're lucky. And where to even begin?
I recall the brochures that started flooding my Phoenix mailbox back when I was in high school from universities around the nation, after we took the PSAT. Every new brochure that came intrigued me, but without visiting multiple schools, how is someone to know which is the right place for her? Most people default to their parents' schools or other family schools, as well as the local universities and the big ones in their home state, because those colleges are necessarily on their radars. It was this strong parental pressure that found me with a scholarship to BYU, but I was clearly not meant to be there, and ended up transferring away. Who knows if I was any more "meant" to be at USC ... it was stupidly expensive, but I had amazing journalism faculty and made a life for myself in Los Angeles because I went there.
I do stick by my original criterion that, all things being equal, it is a better idea to go to college out of state than in-state, and for god's sake at least leave the town/city in which you grew up. That is something I knew deep within myself even at the time, so maybe the 16-year-old self does know something about picking what one wants/needs from a university, even if it took me a couple of tries. I do not under any circumstances (NOT. ANY.) support going to the school down the street. I don't care who you are and what street the school is down. I don't care if you already think you're in the greatest city in the world. Get the f out and explore something new for four years. I was painfully reminded of this every day at Hofstra by all the Long Islanders who were so clueless about the world outside that little piece of land. Scary stuff.
I also think about travel ... if my kids ever want to take a year off and travel before university I will support that so strongly. If not, and they do go directly to college, then they are sure as hell going to study abroad while in school. And then I am going to come visit them wherever they are.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
On the Mountain
One of my favorite things -- no, who am I kidding? my absolute favorite thing -- to do when in Phoenix is climb my little mountains. These are, of course, "hills" in the eyes of many, often including the eyes of myself, but that's being snobby, isn't it? I mean, does The Corrections cease to be a novel just because you start thinking about how War and Peace is twice as long? I think not. Even the U.S. Geological Survey says there is no clear distinction between a hill and a mountain, although various geographic boards have used 1,000 feet as a line of demarcation in the past, like in The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain. That definition is not used now, though, so you have no official basis on which to be hatin' on my Phoenix mountains. But I digress.
I've been climbing North Mountain a lot these past few weeks, usually by myself, because Brian has been either sick or at work (or both). On my most recent trip, this past Thursday, I went around 5 p.m., a bit earlier than usual. As I pulled into the little Secret Parking Lot For Those in the Know, I saw a moving clump of teenagers, running in sync Chariots of Fire style as they came down 7th Street, turned into the Secret Lot, and began to run up the path.
Now, I have seen loads of people running up North Mountain, because every time I go to walk it, there is always a runner. Sometimes two or three. It's a wide asphalt path so it's a good place to go get a steep jogging workout, if you have the strength to do so. But watching some high-school's cross-country team was different from there being a lone runner who leaves you in the dust and then you forget about him. With the high-school team, I became intimately involved.
Of course, their clump began to spread out as the mountain (yeah, tell them it's only a "hill") wreaked havoc on their steady group pace. They had two coaches who were strategically placed, one about halfway up who shouted encouragement and also turned them around to run back up a SECOND time, and one at the top who made sure they reached and stuff. By the time I had walked all the way up, many of them were on their second way back down and the coach at the top was just sort of waiting for those last few. Since there was nothing else for him to do as he stood there, he chatted to me as I strolled by him, turning around to make my way back down: "Well, ya made it" or something to that effect.
"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, using my best sardonic voice with a touch of bitter, "but these kids running are putting me to shame."
He laughed and said, "Nah, you went to the top, that's the important thing." Needless to say, for most of my walk down, I thought about these high school runners and thought about running North Mountain before we leave Phoenix. I mean, here I was supposed to be getting in shape this summer. I ought to be pushing myself more. And so on along that train of thought. But besides thinking about myself, I also admired more than just the running prowess of the teens. I liked how they were supportive of one another, and had good attitudes. I liked how it was one kid's first day of practice (I found out from the mid-point coach) and he was giving it his all and basically in third place. I liked their vibe.
All that and a beautiful sunset, too! I am really going to miss my hiking in the Phoenix mountains. Again.
I've been climbing North Mountain a lot these past few weeks, usually by myself, because Brian has been either sick or at work (or both). On my most recent trip, this past Thursday, I went around 5 p.m., a bit earlier than usual. As I pulled into the little Secret Parking Lot For Those in the Know, I saw a moving clump of teenagers, running in sync Chariots of Fire style as they came down 7th Street, turned into the Secret Lot, and began to run up the path.
Now, I have seen loads of people running up North Mountain, because every time I go to walk it, there is always a runner. Sometimes two or three. It's a wide asphalt path so it's a good place to go get a steep jogging workout, if you have the strength to do so. But watching some high-school's cross-country team was different from there being a lone runner who leaves you in the dust and then you forget about him. With the high-school team, I became intimately involved.
Of course, their clump began to spread out as the mountain (yeah, tell them it's only a "hill") wreaked havoc on their steady group pace. They had two coaches who were strategically placed, one about halfway up who shouted encouragement and also turned them around to run back up a SECOND time, and one at the top who made sure they reached and stuff. By the time I had walked all the way up, many of them were on their second way back down and the coach at the top was just sort of waiting for those last few. Since there was nothing else for him to do as he stood there, he chatted to me as I strolled by him, turning around to make my way back down: "Well, ya made it" or something to that effect.
"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, using my best sardonic voice with a touch of bitter, "but these kids running are putting me to shame."
He laughed and said, "Nah, you went to the top, that's the important thing." Needless to say, for most of my walk down, I thought about these high school runners and thought about running North Mountain before we leave Phoenix. I mean, here I was supposed to be getting in shape this summer. I ought to be pushing myself more. And so on along that train of thought. But besides thinking about myself, I also admired more than just the running prowess of the teens. I liked how they were supportive of one another, and had good attitudes. I liked how it was one kid's first day of practice (I found out from the mid-point coach) and he was giving it his all and basically in third place. I liked their vibe.
All that and a beautiful sunset, too! I am really going to miss my hiking in the Phoenix mountains. Again.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Friday in Phoenix
It's Friday of the week, but it also feels like Friday of the summer. If the summer were a week. You know? Like those educational timelines where they imagine if the Earth's existence were a week, and then the dinosaurs appear on Saturday afternoon or whatever...although I best not start blogging about dinosaurs and the age of the Earth again, gets me into trouble. (Kidding! As if I would ever blog/not blog to avoid trouble!)
So, about Friday. This summer we have done a lot, and I am happy to say that I think I have achieved my goal of decompressing from law school, so much so that I sometimes forget it exists, which is perfect. I have got some writing done, although if this really were the summer's "Friday" then I would definitely have to work over the weekend.
In a week and a half, Brian and I are leaving Phoenix. I would like to think this will put an end to the endless, oh-so-clever, "You're spending the SUMMER in Phoenix? Well THAT sure doesn't make any sense - ha ha ha!" remarks that everyone thinks s/he is the first to make. We are headed to Michigan to figure out what's next. What have I learned from my time in Phoenix? And, the question on everyone's mind, would I ever move back here?
You know...no. I don't want to move back here, but it's not for any dislike of Phoenix. If I were to move back here, I would be able to do my desert hikelets and eat at Valle Luna every day. I would always be able to go to bars with cheap beer, and I would swim outside. A lot. I would routinely see sky, sun, sunsets, and lizards. I would be able to go to my childhood dentist (at least until he retires). All of these things make me happy, and are part of my being. I have been doing them all summer.
And it's not even because of the mentality behind the bumper stickers, such as "I'll keep my guns, money, and freedom -- you can keep the change!" People in the Northeast misunderstand entirely what it is like to live in any political climate that is not that of their own state. They think they know what Arizona is like. They haven't got a clue. I am sad for their limited worldviews. As Green as I am, I have many a Libertarian sensibility. As much as I like Massachusetts politics in general, I felt most "among my own people" when I lived in California. So no, it's not the Arizona politics, even though I understand them and many of my blog readers do not.
One reason I would not move here now is that I would need to buy a car. And since I don't have a clunker to trade in, and I don't have an income right now, that's kind of out of the picture for the moment. I won't even say it's impossible to use public transportation and car sharing and biking here -- which of course is what people think -- again, I've been doing it all summer. But I do wish the buses ran later. 24-hour bus service is the key to modern civilization, I'm convinced. Or at least late-night bus service. I just would need a car for the exploring lifestyle I need to live right now.
In short, the main reasons I would not want to move back to Phoenix at the moment are the same ones I had at the beginning of the summer: 1)I don't need to -- my family is here, so I can come here whenever I want and 2)I want to try something new.
I remain fascinated by the people from high school who still live here and have never left. I can't imagine what it would be like to construct an entire adult life in the place where I was a child. Whether it's the photos of taking children to school in their own former school district, finding happy hour specials when you used to be finding someone to buy for you at the Circle K, or just generally standing still while you mature, I stand on the outside of that world looking in. And then I hop on the bus to my next destination.
So, about Friday. This summer we have done a lot, and I am happy to say that I think I have achieved my goal of decompressing from law school, so much so that I sometimes forget it exists, which is perfect. I have got some writing done, although if this really were the summer's "Friday" then I would definitely have to work over the weekend.
In a week and a half, Brian and I are leaving Phoenix. I would like to think this will put an end to the endless, oh-so-clever, "You're spending the SUMMER in Phoenix? Well THAT sure doesn't make any sense - ha ha ha!" remarks that everyone thinks s/he is the first to make. We are headed to Michigan to figure out what's next. What have I learned from my time in Phoenix? And, the question on everyone's mind, would I ever move back here?
You know...no. I don't want to move back here, but it's not for any dislike of Phoenix. If I were to move back here, I would be able to do my desert hikelets and eat at Valle Luna every day. I would always be able to go to bars with cheap beer, and I would swim outside. A lot. I would routinely see sky, sun, sunsets, and lizards. I would be able to go to my childhood dentist (at least until he retires). All of these things make me happy, and are part of my being. I have been doing them all summer.
And it's not even because of the mentality behind the bumper stickers, such as "I'll keep my guns, money, and freedom -- you can keep the change!" People in the Northeast misunderstand entirely what it is like to live in any political climate that is not that of their own state. They think they know what Arizona is like. They haven't got a clue. I am sad for their limited worldviews. As Green as I am, I have many a Libertarian sensibility. As much as I like Massachusetts politics in general, I felt most "among my own people" when I lived in California. So no, it's not the Arizona politics, even though I understand them and many of my blog readers do not.
One reason I would not move here now is that I would need to buy a car. And since I don't have a clunker to trade in, and I don't have an income right now, that's kind of out of the picture for the moment. I won't even say it's impossible to use public transportation and car sharing and biking here -- which of course is what people think -- again, I've been doing it all summer. But I do wish the buses ran later. 24-hour bus service is the key to modern civilization, I'm convinced. Or at least late-night bus service. I just would need a car for the exploring lifestyle I need to live right now.
In short, the main reasons I would not want to move back to Phoenix at the moment are the same ones I had at the beginning of the summer: 1)I don't need to -- my family is here, so I can come here whenever I want and 2)I want to try something new.
I remain fascinated by the people from high school who still live here and have never left. I can't imagine what it would be like to construct an entire adult life in the place where I was a child. Whether it's the photos of taking children to school in their own former school district, finding happy hour specials when you used to be finding someone to buy for you at the Circle K, or just generally standing still while you mature, I stand on the outside of that world looking in. And then I hop on the bus to my next destination.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
God and Dinosaurs
I am terribly confused. If someone could explain this one to me, I would much appreciate it.
I recently read about a book called Idiot America, which asks "how a country founded on intellectual curiosity has somehow deteriorated into a nation of simpletons." According to Goodreads, the author had a "defining moment" at the Creation Museum in Kentucky, where he saw a dinosaur with a saddle and a museum proprietor who said, "We are taking the dinosaurs back from the Evolutionists!"
Now, this obviously leads to all sorts of questions. Not only "Why does anyone feel the need for a Creation Museum?" but also "HOW does one make a Creation Museum?" seeing as a museum is generally put together by gathering information and historical items .... however, these questions can probably be answered by a visit to the Creation Museum next time I am in Kentucky, so I won't burden you with them here.
The question about which I am terribly confused, with which I would like your assistance, is the following: when and why did it become anyone's Christian duty to insist that dinosaurs and humans lived together?
I was raised to be Christian and I do not remember anyone ever telling me anything other than that there used to be dinosaurs, they died out long before humans, and you can see some pretend ones on the train at Disneyland. I mean, hello, what kid didn't go digging once or twice in her backyard for dinosaur fossils?
So, I'm confused. Now, I do know that there are people out there who firmly believe in a false dichotomy between Evolution versus Creation. These people, big believers in polarizing issues, have pretty much made this invented debate a part of the fabric of our society. I never used to understand, when I contemplated the whole God-created-Adam story, just exactly how it supposedly conflicted with Darwin's theory. I mean, have people (on "both" "sides") read the creation accounts in Genesis? It's all kinds of flowery literature, like any society's creation myths, with lines like, "God raised up man out of the dust of the earth" and stuff. So, that could be a very poetic way to describe the process of life evolving into human beings.
I can see where some logical people might have an issue with the line if the "God" part implies a personage, and they wonder on what basis anyone believes in an omnipotent personage, and so on. But the other way? Why would anyone who thinks there's a God creating life not think that building species up out of the dust of the earth is a perfectly fine way to do so? I never understood their issues.
All that aside, however, this dinosaur-human co-existence thing is really throwing me. I have heard of the idea of a Bible-believer wondering if dinosaurs existed at all, since they are not mentioned in the Bible. That just shows a remarkably limited view and lack of comprehension of anything. I mean, even if you use the Bible as your spiritual guide, where does it say it's the only account of history? Uh, that's right nowhere. That would be like taking your geometry book and only your geometry book to ever learn math, ever. What about algebra? What about addition? It's stupid to say that only one book is all you need, and as someone who loves to read and write I am personally offended by the notion.
But when did questioning dinosaurs and questioning evolution, however silly those things are separately, however easy they are to dismiss separately, combine into an idea that dinosaurs existed at the same time as humans? What does that even mean? Like, I read where someone was arguing there must have been dinosaurs on the ark with Noah. But why? Again, it doesn't make sense even in terms of their own beliefs. Even if you thought the Bible was the literal and only history of all early humankind, why wouldn't you think the dinosaurs just missed the boat?
So, to sum up: Even if someone for whatever absurd reason thinks that evolution is a bad thing to mention, and also thinks that a father figure created humans the way a painter creates a portrait (we'll save the using-what-materials question for another day), the question remains what on earth does that have to do with humans and dinosaurs living together?
Please advise.
I recently read about a book called Idiot America, which asks "how a country founded on intellectual curiosity has somehow deteriorated into a nation of simpletons." According to Goodreads, the author had a "defining moment" at the Creation Museum in Kentucky, where he saw a dinosaur with a saddle and a museum proprietor who said, "We are taking the dinosaurs back from the Evolutionists!"
Now, this obviously leads to all sorts of questions. Not only "Why does anyone feel the need for a Creation Museum?" but also "HOW does one make a Creation Museum?" seeing as a museum is generally put together by gathering information and historical items .... however, these questions can probably be answered by a visit to the Creation Museum next time I am in Kentucky, so I won't burden you with them here.
The question about which I am terribly confused, with which I would like your assistance, is the following: when and why did it become anyone's Christian duty to insist that dinosaurs and humans lived together?
I was raised to be Christian and I do not remember anyone ever telling me anything other than that there used to be dinosaurs, they died out long before humans, and you can see some pretend ones on the train at Disneyland. I mean, hello, what kid didn't go digging once or twice in her backyard for dinosaur fossils?
So, I'm confused. Now, I do know that there are people out there who firmly believe in a false dichotomy between Evolution versus Creation. These people, big believers in polarizing issues, have pretty much made this invented debate a part of the fabric of our society. I never used to understand, when I contemplated the whole God-created-Adam story, just exactly how it supposedly conflicted with Darwin's theory. I mean, have people (on "both" "sides") read the creation accounts in Genesis? It's all kinds of flowery literature, like any society's creation myths, with lines like, "God raised up man out of the dust of the earth" and stuff. So, that could be a very poetic way to describe the process of life evolving into human beings.
I can see where some logical people might have an issue with the line if the "God" part implies a personage, and they wonder on what basis anyone believes in an omnipotent personage, and so on. But the other way? Why would anyone who thinks there's a God creating life not think that building species up out of the dust of the earth is a perfectly fine way to do so? I never understood their issues.
All that aside, however, this dinosaur-human co-existence thing is really throwing me. I have heard of the idea of a Bible-believer wondering if dinosaurs existed at all, since they are not mentioned in the Bible. That just shows a remarkably limited view and lack of comprehension of anything. I mean, even if you use the Bible as your spiritual guide, where does it say it's the only account of history? Uh, that's right nowhere. That would be like taking your geometry book and only your geometry book to ever learn math, ever. What about algebra? What about addition? It's stupid to say that only one book is all you need, and as someone who loves to read and write I am personally offended by the notion.
But when did questioning dinosaurs and questioning evolution, however silly those things are separately, however easy they are to dismiss separately, combine into an idea that dinosaurs existed at the same time as humans? What does that even mean? Like, I read where someone was arguing there must have been dinosaurs on the ark with Noah. But why? Again, it doesn't make sense even in terms of their own beliefs. Even if you thought the Bible was the literal and only history of all early humankind, why wouldn't you think the dinosaurs just missed the boat?
So, to sum up: Even if someone for whatever absurd reason thinks that evolution is a bad thing to mention, and also thinks that a father figure created humans the way a painter creates a portrait (we'll save the using-what-materials question for another day), the question remains what on earth does that have to do with humans and dinosaurs living together?
Please advise.
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