With one week to go before the election, the political frenzy is going to be ridiculous. Well, far be for me to neglect my contribution to the blood bath.
I like to think of myself as an amateur politican. I vote. I comment. I critique. But I am not a Pol. I am just a teacher, who is a history nut and an amateur politician. To be a Pol, you'd have to contribute...and though I would love to do so...I know I haven't yet.
BUT, that doesn't mean I can't blog about this mess--and so I gladly plunge into the fray!
First, for those of you tuning in for the first time...I'm a Republican. And I'm a believer in peace through strength. I am generally a fiscal conservative, and I am definately a social conservative.
I think going to Iraq was perfectly legal, and that we did the best that we could when the question was before us. We need to stay in Iraq because abandoning the liberated Iraq to the chaos would be the only true failure of this war. It would be a waste of the lives that have been spent trying to establish a truly free society in a land filled with tyrants and oppression.
Yes--I am one of those Republicans.
Elections are interesting things. It seems to me that there is a problem with the approach the Left has taken with elections. They have persisted with denying the legitimacy of the party in power--in an attempt to gain political capital, instead of focusing on building a political message. The problem with this is...when you go around for 6 years claiming that the party in power is in power because they control everything and cheat in ways that we, the regular joes, could never prevent...if you win power after 6 years, what does that mean? If its impossible for the people in power to win without cheating...and you insist that they always cheat...and you beat them...doesn't that only mean that you cheated better than they did?
Sigh. This is the can of worms Al Gore opened up with his contesting claim. And the fact that recounts clearly gave it to Bush was ignored...once a shot is fired, it cannot be recalled.
Ah well; here is point of my "political" post: a prediction. Yes, I will put my money where my mouth is. With one week before the election, and very little chance of anything occuring to change the results, I will predict that the Republicans will prevail next Tuesday. I will allow for the loss of the House...but even that seems unlikely to me, and the Dems will definately not gain the Senate. I believe the Democrats have vastly over-estimated their "sweeping blue wave", which is supposed to cover the country. That is my prediction.
We'll see. The great thing about politics, when you consider them long enough, is that they don't matter as much as the media would have us believe (at least, in one respect). Its not life and death if for the next two years the Republicans are without power, neither will it be a golden age if they remain in power.
So, in a sense, one can make predictions about it as one would with a ball game. I've got the Republicans for a Hail Mary, late in the Fourth Quarter.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Mr Anon.
So apparently I have visitor.
An "anonymous" visitor. An anonymous visitor with interesting ideas about what I write...well, interesting might be too strong a word...but nonetheless...
I wonder who got so upset by my magnificent brilliance that they decided to go through the trouble of word verification to leave me...well, spam, in the comments. Well, I salute you, Mr Anonymous. Keep on...doin' whatcha do...
An "anonymous" visitor. An anonymous visitor with interesting ideas about what I write...well, interesting might be too strong a word...but nonetheless...
I wonder who got so upset by my magnificent brilliance that they decided to go through the trouble of word verification to leave me...well, spam, in the comments. Well, I salute you, Mr Anonymous. Keep on...doin' whatcha do...
Adult Rating
A common theme for my classes seems to be taking responsibility. From my students getting their work done on time, to me getting their work graded on time...responsibility, responsibility, responsibility.
The funny thing is, of course, that even typing something like responsibility and grading in the same sentence seems to be a little over-dramatic. It is, afterall, grading papers. Its not saving the world, its grading papers. Still...it IS only grading papers, and I am not always responsible enough at my meager task.
Heh. Responsibility...that was always the negative part of growing up. Remember? When you get older, you get more privileges...and therefore more responsiblities. Ever wish you could get one and not the other?
My wife enjoys watching "Grey's Anatomy"...which is essentially today's version of E.R., with soap-opera-esque relationships, centered around (very loosely around) medicine. I'll admit--I watch now with her, as we make our way through the saga of the surgical interns in Seattle (speaking of which...man, I wish I lived in Seattle...)
Anyways, I was watching the show with Sheri the other night, after a rather frustrating day at my job (grades, schedules, etc) and it occured to me that I could, in some way, relate to the stories of the young doctors that braved the world of surgery and romance all at once. You see...they were in school for years, years and years and years...prepping for the moment that they would be doing it "for real". And though it seems as if now that they were finally "doing" the job, they would be only happy, and only excited, and confident...they aren't. And that is, in large part, because the process of becoming an adult is not encapsulated in an education. There's more to it than that; the first time the rubber meets the road, there lingers in the mind of the driver the question, "What if my first time driving becomes the worst wreck ever?"
I looked up at Sheri and shared my revelation...and then paused as I realized something even cooler--that while I can relate to the stress of these fictional characters on some level (while they're performing brain-surgery I am grading papers...so, not a complete parallel, but close), my lovely wife, who is in medicine, can entirely relate. Lives ARE actually, more and more, in her hands. It sounds silly to say that I realized this freshly, as she's in the middle of her second year of nursing school...but I did. My wife is...well, amazing...and quite an adult.
I know--this sounds incredibly cheesy. But its true...there's a moment (at least one), in the process of becoming an adult, that will cause you to question whether or not you are actually prepared for the challenge or not. Being able to face that moment is, I think, one of those dramatic instances that determine whether or not you will ever be an adult, really. Its all part and parcel of becoming a person that takes responsibility for the choices we make--even difficult ones. I have had a conversation recently with some people that would like to suggest that attending one college over another reflected the manipulation of controlling parents. All of that seems merely an excuse for people trying to avoid the moment I am addressing in this post. Being an adult means many things...but certainly the least of them is that we are the ones responsible for the choices we make...and we must choose whether or not we will risk failure by attempting to succeed.
Perhaps that's the most discouraging thing to observe about our society today...we don't want adults...because adults don't get to blame other people, and we don't get to avoid making decisions that impact others in serious ways. And that's a hard reality. We like blaming others for our problems, we prefer to say its someone else's fault. We'd prefer to always have adults taking care of us, but to never be the adults ourselves. But we need more adults...we need people who take responsibility for their own decisions, their own jobs, their own lives.
So...I'll be grading papers.
The funny thing is, of course, that even typing something like responsibility and grading in the same sentence seems to be a little over-dramatic. It is, afterall, grading papers. Its not saving the world, its grading papers. Still...it IS only grading papers, and I am not always responsible enough at my meager task.
Heh. Responsibility...that was always the negative part of growing up. Remember? When you get older, you get more privileges...and therefore more responsiblities. Ever wish you could get one and not the other?
My wife enjoys watching "Grey's Anatomy"...which is essentially today's version of E.R., with soap-opera-esque relationships, centered around (very loosely around) medicine. I'll admit--I watch now with her, as we make our way through the saga of the surgical interns in Seattle (speaking of which...man, I wish I lived in Seattle...)
Anyways, I was watching the show with Sheri the other night, after a rather frustrating day at my job (grades, schedules, etc) and it occured to me that I could, in some way, relate to the stories of the young doctors that braved the world of surgery and romance all at once. You see...they were in school for years, years and years and years...prepping for the moment that they would be doing it "for real". And though it seems as if now that they were finally "doing" the job, they would be only happy, and only excited, and confident...they aren't. And that is, in large part, because the process of becoming an adult is not encapsulated in an education. There's more to it than that; the first time the rubber meets the road, there lingers in the mind of the driver the question, "What if my first time driving becomes the worst wreck ever?"
I looked up at Sheri and shared my revelation...and then paused as I realized something even cooler--that while I can relate to the stress of these fictional characters on some level (while they're performing brain-surgery I am grading papers...so, not a complete parallel, but close), my lovely wife, who is in medicine, can entirely relate. Lives ARE actually, more and more, in her hands. It sounds silly to say that I realized this freshly, as she's in the middle of her second year of nursing school...but I did. My wife is...well, amazing...and quite an adult.
I know--this sounds incredibly cheesy. But its true...there's a moment (at least one), in the process of becoming an adult, that will cause you to question whether or not you are actually prepared for the challenge or not. Being able to face that moment is, I think, one of those dramatic instances that determine whether or not you will ever be an adult, really. Its all part and parcel of becoming a person that takes responsibility for the choices we make--even difficult ones. I have had a conversation recently with some people that would like to suggest that attending one college over another reflected the manipulation of controlling parents. All of that seems merely an excuse for people trying to avoid the moment I am addressing in this post. Being an adult means many things...but certainly the least of them is that we are the ones responsible for the choices we make...and we must choose whether or not we will risk failure by attempting to succeed.
Perhaps that's the most discouraging thing to observe about our society today...we don't want adults...because adults don't get to blame other people, and we don't get to avoid making decisions that impact others in serious ways. And that's a hard reality. We like blaming others for our problems, we prefer to say its someone else's fault. We'd prefer to always have adults taking care of us, but to never be the adults ourselves. But we need more adults...we need people who take responsibility for their own decisions, their own jobs, their own lives.
So...I'll be grading papers.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
On the Radio, in Session
Oh, Regina...
This is how it works
It feels a little worse
Than when we drove our hearse
Right through that screaming crowd
While laughing up a storm
Until we were just bone
Until it got so warm
That none of us could sleep
And all the styrofoam
Began to melt away
We tried to find some words
To aid in the decay
But none of them were home
Inside their catacomb
A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again
On the radio
We heard November Rain
That solo's really long
But it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice
'Cause the DJ was asleep
This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
And on the radio
You hear November Rain
That solo's awful long
But it's a good refrain
You listen to it twice
'Cause the DJ is asleep
On the radio (oh oh oh)
On the radio On the radio - uh oh
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio
Jesus: The Super-Fact
"Well, really, you know, I am not aware of a thirst for some ready-made truth which puts an end to intellectual activity in the way you seem to be describing. Will it leave me the free play of Mind, Dick? I must insist on that, you know."
"Free, as a man is free to drink while he is drinking. He is not free still to be dry."
The Ghost seemed to think for a moment. "I can make nothing of that idea," it said.
"Listen!" said the White Spirit. "Once you were a child. Once you knew what inquiry was for. There was a time when you asked questions because you wanted answers, and were glad when you had found them. Become that child again: even now."
"Ah, but when I became a man I put away childish things."
"You have gone far wrong. Thirst was made for water; inquiry for truth. What you now call the free play of inquiry has neither more or less to do with the ends for which intelligence was given than masturbation has to do with marriage."
"If we cannot be reverent, there is at least no need to be obscene. The suggestion that I return at my age to the mere factual inquisitiveness of boyhood strikes me as preposterous. In any case, that question-and-answer conception of truth only applies to matters of fact. Religious and speculative questions are surely on a different level."
"We know nothing of religion here: we think only of Christ. We know nothing of speculation. Come and see. I will bring you to Eternal Fact, the Father of all other facthood."
Ah, Lewis.
Desire is such a tricky thing...the moment it is satisfied, desire is gone. And when has man ever been content with what he has? Given enough time, a man can become desirous of desire itself. At that point, what can satisfy him? What will ever satisfy him? Only perpetual desire...forever wanting something unattainable...and so we are lost in a tempest of our own making.
This is the beauty of the Christian faith. Behold, how beautiful is our Savior! Through salvation, we do not gain an independent life, or an answer from which we can draw self-sufficient meaning--neither do we open the door to meaningless questions for the sake of always seeking for an answer. No--salvation from ourselves awakens a new life--a life forever revolving around our wonderful Savior. He is our answer, He drives our questions; He Is. And because He Is, we have hope that Heaven might actually be the home our souls have yearned for all along. Rest for the restless combined with a relationship with the unknowably knowable God.
Because He Is, we can dare to ask all questions, always earnestly seeking the answers--without fearing what those answers might be. More than that--we can ask questions, knowing that every answer only reveals more questions to ask of The Truth. Perhaps this is one of the keys to our eternal happiness? Man is always a fool; sometimes content to allow a simple answer to suffice when it is clear the answer only reveals the need for more questions, other times asking empty questions without any regard for a real answer...or worst of all finding an answer and, missing the desire for the answer so much, he cannot appreciate what he has found.
Yet, our Savior, The Fact, "the Father of all other facthood," can calm even this storm. His answers are simple enough that we can rest in them for what they are; they are complex enough that we will never lack for questions. And in the person of Christ, we discover a paradox: the unattainable promise given freely, forever satisfying while simultaneously forever calling us on; "Further up, Further in!"
An adventure without end. Come, Lord Jesus, Come!
"Free, as a man is free to drink while he is drinking. He is not free still to be dry."
The Ghost seemed to think for a moment. "I can make nothing of that idea," it said.
"Listen!" said the White Spirit. "Once you were a child. Once you knew what inquiry was for. There was a time when you asked questions because you wanted answers, and were glad when you had found them. Become that child again: even now."
"Ah, but when I became a man I put away childish things."
"You have gone far wrong. Thirst was made for water; inquiry for truth. What you now call the free play of inquiry has neither more or less to do with the ends for which intelligence was given than masturbation has to do with marriage."
"If we cannot be reverent, there is at least no need to be obscene. The suggestion that I return at my age to the mere factual inquisitiveness of boyhood strikes me as preposterous. In any case, that question-and-answer conception of truth only applies to matters of fact. Religious and speculative questions are surely on a different level."
"We know nothing of religion here: we think only of Christ. We know nothing of speculation. Come and see. I will bring you to Eternal Fact, the Father of all other facthood."
Ah, Lewis.
Desire is such a tricky thing...the moment it is satisfied, desire is gone. And when has man ever been content with what he has? Given enough time, a man can become desirous of desire itself. At that point, what can satisfy him? What will ever satisfy him? Only perpetual desire...forever wanting something unattainable...and so we are lost in a tempest of our own making.
This is the beauty of the Christian faith. Behold, how beautiful is our Savior! Through salvation, we do not gain an independent life, or an answer from which we can draw self-sufficient meaning--neither do we open the door to meaningless questions for the sake of always seeking for an answer. No--salvation from ourselves awakens a new life--a life forever revolving around our wonderful Savior. He is our answer, He drives our questions; He Is. And because He Is, we have hope that Heaven might actually be the home our souls have yearned for all along. Rest for the restless combined with a relationship with the unknowably knowable God.
Because He Is, we can dare to ask all questions, always earnestly seeking the answers--without fearing what those answers might be. More than that--we can ask questions, knowing that every answer only reveals more questions to ask of The Truth. Perhaps this is one of the keys to our eternal happiness? Man is always a fool; sometimes content to allow a simple answer to suffice when it is clear the answer only reveals the need for more questions, other times asking empty questions without any regard for a real answer...or worst of all finding an answer and, missing the desire for the answer so much, he cannot appreciate what he has found.
Yet, our Savior, The Fact, "the Father of all other facthood," can calm even this storm. His answers are simple enough that we can rest in them for what they are; they are complex enough that we will never lack for questions. And in the person of Christ, we discover a paradox: the unattainable promise given freely, forever satisfying while simultaneously forever calling us on; "Further up, Further in!"
An adventure without end. Come, Lord Jesus, Come!
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Do I exist?
My classes have been working on the problem of definitions of late. Somedays I think they want to jump me when they come up with a word to explain the word they were trying to define, and I ask them what that word means. For example:
Me: What is truth?
Them: Truth is a fact.
Me: OK. What's a fact?
Them: Facts are reality.
Me: Fine. What's reality?
Them: AHHHHHHHH! Kill Mr. Leigh!!!!
The other day I encountered a question that, though I doubt it would do them much good, still deserves asking...If you're walking out of a building with an automatic door opener (based on a motion detector) and as you walk confidently towards the outside, fully expecting the door to open...it doesn't...does that mean you don't exist?
I never thought I would end up playing chicken with a door...and lose.
Sigh.
Me: What is truth?
Them: Truth is a fact.
Me: OK. What's a fact?
Them: Facts are reality.
Me: Fine. What's reality?
Them: AHHHHHHHH! Kill Mr. Leigh!!!!
The other day I encountered a question that, though I doubt it would do them much good, still deserves asking...If you're walking out of a building with an automatic door opener (based on a motion detector) and as you walk confidently towards the outside, fully expecting the door to open...it doesn't...does that mean you don't exist?
I never thought I would end up playing chicken with a door...and lose.
Sigh.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Proselytize those Bears!
Sheri has been teaching Aiden to pray before going to bed. Though he doesn't quite get it, we think the lesson is definately making an impression...
You see, tonight, as Momma and Aiden prepared to go to bed, Aiden was sitting with Momma and he pointed to his bear on the bed. Momma let him go get it, and watched as Aiden held the bear's paws together (as Momma does with Aiden's hands) and mumble his half-speech to the bear, ending with his abrupt version of "Amen", and releasing the paws. Aiden then insisted on going out of the bedroom, collecting the rest of his several stuffed animals, and guiding them through their nightly prayers as well. He is currently sleeping with every stuffed animal that he owns, all of them covered with the prayers, such as they are, of our son.
Being a Dad is just a great, great thing. And, apparently, the stuffed bear population in our house will be baptized believers about the same time as Aiden.
Ah, school...
Sometimes grading a massive amount of papers throughout the dead of night can be...tiring. Alright; its always tiring.
Still, it is actually a lot of fun to see how these students of mine are responding already to instructions I gave them on their last assignments. The original assignment (a Precis on Mere Christianity) was not a great triumph for most of them. I am still having to reassure parents that everything is "ok" and that their children will survive failing a paper or two in order to become people that can write something worth reading.
And the proof is in the pudding, as they say. The reflection essays I am grading aren't exactly fantastic (though, I rush to admit, I was rereading some of my old Pull Questions from my second year in Torrey and, wow...they were not good at all...not at all...ick.) but they do show a development of thought already since their last papers. And that's encouraging. I am locked away in the Library for the night, without much variety in my reading material...but at least its getting better, and not worse.
And of course, grading affords me the opportunity to be the subject of speculation...am I susceptible to bribery? A question for the ages...
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