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Life

Litany of Light

Sometimes when you dig through old files on an old computer you find things you forgot you had.

When I was in college I bought a Dell which got me through all my studies. It had a whopping 256MB of RAM (this was in 2001) and probably about 4 GB of storage space. (Ha! I remember still carting around 1.44 floppies…)

Anyway, that computer is functional to this day, although right now it is currently not in use. Yes, Windows XP lingers on after a decade of dazzling us with visualizations in Windows Media Player.

But I’m getting away from the point. About six months ago I decided to grab all the files I considered ‘valuable’ off it and transfer them to my Mac. Initially I was concerned that it was going to be a lot, but then I remembered that the entirety of the hard drive could fit on the flash drive that hangs off my keychain…

250MB later I had the culmination of my college career and subsequent musical foibles all safely stowed on the Mac. I briefly browsed through the contents on and off, but never did a very serious examination of the contents. Continue reading →

Life / Philosophy / Theology — No Comments
8
May 12

A Lovely Sight

But what do I love, O God, when I love Thee? Not the beauty of a body nor the rhythm of moving time. Not the splendor of light, which is so dear to the eyes. Nor the sweet melodies in the world of sound of all kinds. Not the fragrance of flowers, balms and spices. Not manna and not honey; not the bodily members which are so treasured by carnal embrace. None of this do I love when I love my God. And yet I do love a light and a sound and a fragrance and a delicacy and an embrace, when I love my God, who is light and sound and fragrance and delicacy and embrace to my interior man. There my soul receives a radiance that no space can grasp; there something resounds which no time can take away; there something gives a fragrance which no wind can dissipate; there something is savored which no satiety can make bitter; there something is embraced which can occasion no ennui. This is what I love when I love my God.

Our feet of flesh feel so firmly planted on the earth, while our spirits ache to soar beyond this mortal vale. How often we perceive the intangible aspects of our selves as a wisp of smoke or a transparent ghost, through which the solid chucks of rock that form our home can pass without a care.

The modern world has in many respects slain the soul, standing in triumphant stance, yet even as this withered notion lies dying at our feet we still feel the tug towards something more, something good, something beautiful. Perhaps we have finally noticed, too late to resuscitate an asphyxiated spirit, allowing our even our art to become simply an artifact.

It’s easy to divide ourselves into two, but this divorce can only end in murder. For if to have the feeling, to see the sight or to hear the sound is nothing beyond the sense in its action, the reception becomes more real than the receiver, until even the reception loses all meaning and coherence.

Or the ideal may have its revenge, and only the spiritual has solid form- these bodies of flesh at best a temple, at worst a prison.

The biblical picture of man is not rooted in a tension between body and soul, but in the wholeness of the union, without which each cannot be truly itself. In fact, it would not be an itself at all.

There is instead the radical notion that this fragile frame of bone and blood is who I am; without it I as who I am would have no coherence. We can feel the frustration of the seeming limitation of embodiment, but the irony is that this very feeling is in itself the vindication. It opens up the space in which I can approach the world, in which I can commune with God.

This embodied nature of our existence molds and shapes the way we relate to reality. In this manner our senses are not just a purely physical action, a mode of perceiving the data of the world or receiving the images around us. Rather, there is a spiritual analogue to sense, as St. Augustine suggests in the opening passage.

To be open to the world that God has created, to be open to love- these demand of us a willingness to receive. Much like the eyes must be open to see, and in the act of seeing offer a stance of humility to the world, so our entire posture of self in relation to God must be one of acceptance, ever ready to be dazzled by the sublime or content with the mundane. After all, while an eclipse may take our breath away, the awe of a sunset is no less for its regularity.

In this manner, the way in which we perceive reality in all its panoply is wholly conditioned by the way in which we receive it- either with gratitude and humility, or entitlement and resentment. If we open ourselves to God, we must do so with eyes wide open.

Our senses are such that we are by default always ready for the new, for the unknown. In fact, the very embodied nature of our being routinely expects the unexpected. Yet when it comes to our posture towards the divine we often settle for silence, never waiting with baited breath or anticipating anything beyond the shallowness we far too often bring to the altar.

As Dionysius the Areopagite states, we know of God that he is and what he is not. Such knowledge implicitly creates the divide, for if we are, then we are what God is not. This tension forms the chasm we seek to bridge, a divide distilled deep in our being. Our eyes feel too physical, and even to gaze beyond seems a fool’s errand.

But in Jesus the God who is what we are not becomes what we are. The sight in which all being has its foundation finds itself within that field of view. This perfect union of God and Man directs us to see the underlying reality of what it is to be: To truly be what we are we must become what God sees of us.

If our sight (as in the thought of St. Thomas) is by its very constitution present to things external to itself, then to be in union with God is to be present and open to God’s being, in an analogy of how God is always present and open to us. This vision of finding itself within the gaze of Seeing itself is nothing less than the Beatific Vision, which is, in the Incarnation, finally shown to be both the Beginning and the End of our being.

Here we discover Beauty in all its fullness and in all its irresistibleness, in all its fire and in all its purging. Desire which could be quenched but left destitute for the filling now finds depths it never knew, a satiety that overflows. It is not merely the intellection of a mind nor the perception of a spirit, but even (and necessarily) the feeling where the totality of who we are are in our body-soulness ceases its struggle against itself and finally rests at ease in the presence of its Creator.

This attitude is the relinquishing of flight, the gladly acknowledged peace of the blissful humility of not being God.¹ For God has taken the burden, so to speak, of becoming man upon himself. The early church’s axiom was that which was not assumed was not healed. The Incarnation is not simply a salve on the wound, but a complete transformation; not a changing that leaves itself behind but a transfiguration that carries itself to greater heights. Our flesh has ceased being an obstacle; it has become a means and a mediation. It has ceased being a veil to become a perception.²

God does not call us away from our senses but rather makes them the locus for meeting with him. Jesus didn’t require that Thomas disdain the viscerality of his doubts, to subsume them under a flesh-less faith, but instead stretched forth his hands so Thomas could touch the wounds.

Love alone, according to St. Augustine, is capable of sight.

To love God is to be open to reality with gratefulness, to be present to God in the totality of our being. In this way we receive, and since God is the source of love, this is the way we love.

Hans Urs von Balthasar, Seeing the Form ↩
Paul Claudel, Sensation du Divin’ ↩

Life — 3 Comments
7
May 12

Pretty Pictures and Credulity

by Jared Fanning

infographic found here

I happened upon this infographic this morning and was immediately intrigued. I am a fairly avid reader, so information on who reads what is always interesting to me.

However, as I gave this graphic a second look I began to question the validity of the visuals. I’m in no position to dispute the numbers of sold books in the last 50 years, so I’m assuming they are correct. (It should be noted that although the graphic is recent, the info is from an article written in 2009.)

Even assuming this, the baseline premise that number of books sold meaningfully equates to books read is a bit of a stretch, especially for some of these books. And even if this is taken as read, (ha!) the visual presentation of the data further distorts the overall picture.

Let’s examine some of the reasons why. Continue reading →

90's / Life — No Comments
15
Apr 12

Scars of the 90′s: Happy Meal Toys

For many of us who grew up in the 80′s there was nothing more exciting than a trip to McDonald’s. Even then we knew it wasn’t because of the food- we knew it was crap and that more than likely our parents took us there just so we would play contentedly in the PlayPlace for about 25 minutes or so.

If you were fortunate enough to live near one with a ball pit, you had hit the jackpot.

As the opening video demonstrates, we were fed a consistent dose of marketing from McDonald’s all through the 80′s. We found nothing at all distressing about a creepy clown speaking in a calming and nostalgic voice to anthropomorphized chicken by-products, reminiscing about their growth into present nugget form which only anticipates their eventual consumption.

The only thing we cared about was THE TOYS.

Granted, most of the time the toy in the Happy Meal was cheap and lame, and you knew it. But it didn’t matter- it was enough to provide a distraction for the length of the car ride home.

Personally, I was excited enough about the box that the Hamburglar cookies came in.

Yes, admit it. You were excited too.

In the 90′s things changed.

All of a sudden Happy Meal toys were THE THING. It wasn’t that the quality had increased significantly or that the toys were that much different. In fact, about the only thing that changed was that each promotion had more options for toys. A movie promotion might have 6-8 characters, each its own separate toy that you would randomly get in each Happy Meal. Some even fit together into some final conglomeration.

Well, of course you HAD to collect them all, which meant more trips to McDonald’s which meant more Happy Meals purchased.

It was actually quite the brilliant marketing technique.

We were even led to think that buckets were awesome.

Kids collecting cheap toys is one thing. The odd thing is that for some inexplicable reason the collections were presumed to be valuable. People would actually purchase these collections for FAR more than they were worth. People without kids would buy Happy Meals to try and get all the toys, and some even resorted to buying the toys directly from their local McDonald’s.

It was sort of like the nation had lost its collective mind.

Things got to the point where McDonald’s adopted a policy in which the toys would be auctioned off after the promotion had ended.

Um, what? Auctioning plastic toys that even kids don’t want anymore?

Yes. Welcome to the 90′s.

90's / Life — No Comments
11
Apr 12

Scars of the 90′s: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Those lovable teenage turtles who also happened to be ninjas and eat nothing but pizza (conveniently enough for Pizza Hut) became a defining icon for children in the late 80′s through the late 90′s. The original animated series itself ran for nine years, and all of us followed it religiously.

After all, ninjas are cool, talking turtles are cool, and pizza is cool. We probably even went so far as to say that they were either rad or righteous, even though we had no idea what either of these words meant.

We also found nothing remotely implausible about:

+ Four turtles becoming anthropomorphized through a toxic waste dumping

+ Learning ninja skills from a mutant sensei rat

+ Being able to subsist only on pizza

+ Having a talking brain as a mortal enemy

+ April O’Neil wearing the same outfit day in and day out

+ Having weapons meant that you didn’t actually use them.

Evidently our friends across the pond were exposed to an even less violent version of this series. (if that’s possible…) The show was rebranded as Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles, and even the lyrics to the song had to be changed. Apparently the weapons were even toned down a bit.

It makes sense. After all, no hero in all of history has ever had weapons. Of course, there haven’t been too many recorded instances of genetically enhanced amphibians being heroes either.

Clearly history is written by the winners.

Anyway, I have often wondered about the pitch meeting for this series:

We have a great idea: There’s these four turtles that get turned into walking mutants by toxic waste. Instead of killing them outright, it gives them the ability to speak and reason. They are raised by a mutant rat who is also a martial arts master and teaches them to be ninjas. Oh, and they each have a different kind of weapon, but don’t worry, it’s not violent because they won’t actually use them- they’ll just twirl them around. And get this- each mutant turtle is also named after a Renaissance artist. Oh, and they fight this giant brain and his minions, including another pissed off martial arts expert named Shredder, who despite his years of training and experience is able to be beaten time and time again by undisciplined teenage turtles. Last thing- the turtles only eat pizza. Merchandising options? What can’t you put a ninja turtle on?

If that sounds like an amazing foundation for an animated series to you, then you’ll have gone a long way in explaining the 90′s.

Ultimately the turtles made us want to fall into pools of toxic waste so that we could gain ninja powers and be able to subsist on pizza alone. Instead we had to make do with action figures, PEZ dispensers, themed pajamas, and a host of other products bearing the likeness of our cold-blooded role-models.

We realized we could never be ninjas, and even though we went to karate class our instructors were never as cool as a rat.

The scars will never heal.

90's / Life — 4 Comments
10
Apr 12

Scars of the 90′s: It’s Educational!

In the 90′s one could justify just about anything in entertainment by claiming that it was educational.

It really didn’t matter if the educational aspect was so ancillary to the show as to be negligible- if it could even remotely purport to teach us something we plopped down (or were plopped down) in front of the TV to done get us a eja-meh-cay-shun.

Fortunately, there was absolutely no gap in subject matter, as our TVs taught us:

Geography (Carmen Sandiego, Head of the Class)

Math (Square One)

Literature (Wishbone)

Reading/Writing (Reading Rainbow, [bonus: Geordi LaForge starring as Levar Burton] Ghost Writer)

Science (Beakman’s World, Bill Nye the Science Guy)

Ethics/Puppets/Fashion (Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood)

Religion (Veggie Tales, all the bible games for NES and PC. Onesimus: A Quest for Freedom, anyone? Pure awesome. Yeeeaaahhh.) Continue reading →

Life / Theology — No Comments
9
Apr 12

Pray Like You Mean It

When I was 19 I had just started learning guitar and was trying my hand at writing some songs. I wasn’t that good at either the guitar or songwriting, (which is probably still the case…) since most of my instrumentation was limited to a few chords and my writing to vague and purposeless lines that had no cohesion whatsoever.

I had been trying to make a habit of praying more, but most of the time I allotted for that occurred right before I went to bed, which meant that more often than not I prayed myself to sleep.

Granted, there are probably far worse ways to fall asleep.

When you are a teenager being taught about prayer, you are often encouraged to approach prayer as if you are talking to a friend. Well, as I thought about my prayer-induced slumber within that framework, I realized that my prayers must be so dull that I was boring myself to sleep. And even though I know that God is not like us (thankfully) and doesn’t get bored, I was still somewhat disgusted with myself.

After all, I was thinking of this as a conversation with God. But if someone fell asleep while we were having a conversation- especially every time we talked- I would probably assume that they either didn’t care that much about me or were so wearied being around me that my very presence was like Benadryl. Continue reading →

90's / Life — No Comments
5
Apr 12

Scars of the 90′s: Pinky and the Brain

For most of us growing up in the 80′s and early 90′s cartoons had a fairly straightforward plot involving good and evil- the evil people were the ones trying to take over the world, while the good guys were trying to prevent that. In most cases the evildoers had no rationale involved in their efforts at world domination beyond a bare power grab, making the moral issue surrounding their lust for dominion easy to delineate.

Pinky and the Brain changed all of that and ushered those of us entering our teenage years into an uncertain world where we came face to face with the human side of megalomania, via two genetically enhanced labs rats.

Brain’s nightly plots to take over the world were not motivated by mere infatuation with power or even the desire to boost his own ego; rather, somewhere deep inside Brain’s psyche was the profound and deep-seated belief that he could truly make the world a better place by completely and unequivocally dominating it under his austere yet cuddly hand.

To add to the deep moral questions we were confronted with was a completely new nomenclature. We had only recently been weaned off of rad, tubular and boomshakalaka when we had a whole new vocabulary thrust upon us. Suddenly narf, poit, fjord and zounds become viable words that immediately had currency within the wider culture.

We were also introduced to cultural realities that we didn’t even realize existed. French cinema, country music, Apocalypse Now, sexual harrassment, The Beatles, a world full of cheeses and Al Gore, who may or may not be included in the list of cheeses. Entrusted with such knowledge we immediately forgot it so we could get in another round of Pokemon, which probably prevented Y2K from being a big deal.

Seriously, think about it.

Pinky and the Brain flung our impressionable minds headlong into the BIG QUESTIONS of existence itself. Consider the following:

Brain: Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?

Pinky: I think so, Brain, but what would we do with a duck and a hose at this hour?

In a way these two genetically augmented lab mice served as a comforting guide for our young and fragile psyches, for not only did they ask the BIG QUESTIONS but also gave us the equally BIG ANSWERS. Consider once again the following:

Brain: Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?

Pinky: I think so, Brain, but why would want to Pierce Brosnan?

Why would we want to Pierce Brosnan indeed.

Ultimately Pinky and the Brain taught us that no matter how intricate your planning, how dedicated your resolve, how paper mache-y your Chia-Earth, a less intelligent companion would inevitably destroy all that you had worked for. This sort of hard life lesson molded us into the adults we are today.

Fjord!

90's / Life — 4 Comments
4
Apr 12

Scars of the 90′s: Dinosaurs

Unless you lived through the 90′s as a pre-teen to early teenager, this sitcom is nearly inexplicable. In fact, probably all of the 90′s could be summarized by one phrase:

We Loved Puppets.

I don’t know why, but if something had a puppet in it, we ate it up.

Alf.

The Muppets.

Fraggle Rock.

Dinosaurs.

Barney.

LambChop.

We simply could not get enough. (There was even a cartoon based on puppets- Muppet Babies, anyone?) The strange thing is that it didn’t really even matter if the puppets were that interesting or not. Their hypnotic power over us was undeniable. I blame Mr. Rogers and his delightful yet intoxicating neighborhood for starting it.

Dinosaurs felt a lot like The Simpsons in many ways, but since some of us weren’t allowed to watch The Simpsons, Dinosaurs became our go-to show to see the dynamics of very dysfunctional families. After all, it had puppets. And it wasn’t just puppets with an arm up them. There were entire people in some of these puppets.

That’s taking it to a new and somewhat disturbing level.

As young adolescents we never really seriously questioned why all of the children in the Sinclair family were of different species. Nor did it ever occur to us that the impeccable reputation of the Tyrannosaurus Rex was severely sullied by its portrayal as Earl’s clueless friend Roy. (The whole ‘tiny arm’ nonsense that our teachers foisted upon us in school was also buttressed by this truly unfortunate caricature. Clear thinking people know that the T-Rex had massive and powerful arms that could tear smaller creatures from their terrified hiding places and deposit them safely in its gaping jaws of death… But I digress.)

Dinosaurs dealt with the truly big issues of our day- drugs, environmentalism, race relations, euthanasia, politics, coming of age, etc. The episode on drugs (which involved spiky creatures who functioned as a sort of steroid) even featured the morality music which meant that a moral lesson was about make its appearance. Dinosaurs went one step further by cutting to a behind the scenes shot where Robbie told us not to use drugs in a more relaxed and casual manner.

Most of us didn’t listen to him. I mean, come on, he’s a puppet.

The series only lasted a few years, and after it was gone no one really cared all that much. In the final episode we were treated to a thinly veiled reproach of industrialization along with the concomitant moralization of environmentalism as the end of the dinosaurs is brought about by corporate greed and the devastating effects of civilization upon the fragile ecosystem. Which is interesting since we were simultaneously being taught in school that the dinosaurs’ extinction event was a meteor crashing into the planet, bringing on an Ice Age the dinosaurs were not prepared to survive.

Needless to say, we were confused. And so we quickly filled up our recycle bins so we could avoid the same fate, hoping that global warming wouldn’t kill us like the dinosaurs, some of whose remains became the source of the very fuel that was going to make us extinct.

What made shows like Dinosaurs unique at the time was that they used puppets in a way that was meant to appeal to adult audiences. I think marketing people figured out that if they could get adults laughing and interested, the kids would be as well. They could then turn around and market products to kids, which would compel their parents to buy it for them.

In many ways Baby from Dinosaurs illustrates exactly what happened- the kids would whine and complain until they got the product they wanted. Faced with any reprisal or discipline, they could regress to the one perennial truth of the 90′s- I’m the baby, gotta love me!

The problem was that 11-15 year olds actually had this sort of attitude, and so Dinosaurs was essentially a pathology of American society.

90's / Life — 2 Comments
3
Apr 12

Scars of the 90′s: Captain Planet

During our time in school we were continually educated on ways of being environmentally conscious. We were told to Give a Hoot by not polluting and to Reduce, Reuse and Recycle. Some of us would even have flushed the toilet a lot less if our parents hadn’t selfishly objected to standing pools of urine and feces in our houses.

Our favorite cartoon characters even got in on our education. I remember reading a book put out by Disney featuring Mickey, Donald and the rest of the Disney cavalcade of stars that gave us small, easy ways to supposedly make a difference in these huge, difficult problems that could at any moment plunge our planet into a fiery hellhole.

In this book one of the suggestions was to not warm up your car in the winter, since it didn’t help the engine perform any better and just wasted gasoline, jettisoning untold volumes of poison into the very air we breathe. Evidently the writers of this book have never spent an entire winter somewhere like South Dakota or Wyoming.

Hint: We don’t warm up our cars so the engine will run better. We warm them up so our hands don’t freeze to the steering wheel.

Environmental activism even got its own TV series: Captain Planet. Captain Planet was some sort of being composed of the elements of nature (plus heart) who was summoned by the Earth spirit Gaia after her nest/cocoon/whatever it might be called was disturbed by earth-hating drilling. (Probably for oil so we could leave our cars running in the winter to warm up the engine…)

Instead of dealing with the problems of pollution and waste and whatnot herself, she sent five rings to five children around the world so they could summon the four elements (plus heart) and with their powers combined bring Captain Planet to life so he could deal with the problem that the children were incapable of handling on their own, even though they could call forth typhoons, earthquakes, firestorms and floods to destroy their enemies.

We were assured in every episode that The Power is Yours! Yeah right, Captain Planet. If the power is ours, why do the kids who have the rings of power have to summon you to clean up their mess in EVERY SINGLE EPISODE?

It would seem that the power is yours, so why the deception? Millions of unsuspecting kids were led to believe that they could make a difference, when that is obviously a lie. We should have known better- after all, we were promised freaking jetpacks.

Nevertheless, as children we were evidently credulous enough to take this all in stride. Consider:

+ That all of Earth’s processes being reduced to four elements (plus heart) meant that our understanding of it regressed about 2500 years? Not a problem.

+ That the mighty earth spirit deflects taking responsibility for her planet? (self?) Not a problem.

+ That children can summon natural disasters with impunity? Not a problem.

+ That the title character is weakened in the very presence of that which he is summoned to destroy? (Analogous to Superman being summoned to fight kryptonite) Not a problem.

+ That one of the elements of the natural world is Heart, when the natural world displays nothing of the sort? (Except when a lion tears out a wildebeast’s heart) Not a problem.

Of course, we were not without our incredulity. The kid with the Heart ring was mocked by us all. After all, his companions can summon the eruption of volcanoes, hurricanes, land mass catastrophes and tsunamis, and he is left to feebly shout Heart! and nothing ever really happens.

I suspect that the other four felt he was more of a fifth wheel.

In the end, about all we took away from the series was the song. Captain Planet, he’s our hero, gonna take pollution down to zero.

Except he didn’t.

Why?

Because we didn’t have enough HEART!