Various & Sundry: in which quite a few people make very good points

Hello! I'm back. And we have much to discuss. But at the moment, here's a few odds and endy things I wanted to share.

What do you say to a person who asks if suicide is a legitimate option for someone "who genuinely is tired and doesn't want to continue"? I thought this was a terrific answer.

I've never really thought much one way or the other about Libertarianism, but Lance Mannion sure has and has the rant to prove it. "You don’t have to believe in no government," he writes, "but if you aren’t at least trying to take yourself off the grid and off the dole, then I’ve got to conclude that your professed libertarianism is just a high-fallutin’, long-winded, and, usually, very boring way to complain about your taxes." He may have a point.

I've started following the blog Our Valued Customers which reports on snippets of conversation from a comic book store.

He may have a point, too.

Ta-nehisi Coates also has a mighty good rant going with his post on The Selective Amnesia of Post-War Europe, which is not quite the stuck-in-the-past post you might think it is. (Or maybe I'm just particularly close to it, having recently finished the post-war-set Bernie Gunther mystery A Quiet Flame, which I'll get around to reviewing one of these days.) This was the key quote for me: "'The past' is whatever contributes to a society's moral debts. 'Heritage' is everything else." Say it with me now: He may have a point.

Although this article is ostensibly about the dangers of playing it safe, it's also an excellent example of keeping the long view in order to foster change in an organization. The writer, who encourages organizations to take risks, also (I think) learned the important lesson: Change happens in mysterious ways.

In a fit of self-promotion, and because I'm pleased with how it turned out, I'd like to pass on a blog post I wrote on 4 reasons youth hate confirmation classes. You'd hate them too.

Go, Red Sox! Check out this amazing Red Sox Bento Box lunch, with an apple carved into a baseball:

Finally, seeing as it's almost noon, I recommend the essay On Lying In Bed by G.K. Chesterton. Is it immoral to lie about in the morning? "Instead of being regarded, as it ought to be, as a matter of personal convenience and adjustment, it has come to be regarded by many as if it were a part of essential morals to get up early in the morning. It is upon the whole part of practical wisdom; but there is nothing good about it or bad about its opposite." He most certainly has a point.

And did I mention? Go Red Sox!

Various & Sundry: If there's a common thread, I don't see it.

I'm puttering today, which is wonderful. And the puppy is wrestling with one of the other dogs so I can sit here and blog, which is also wonderful. So let's see what's been piling up, here...

[By the way, if you're wondering where I get all this stuff, these are some of the things I tweet throughout the week.]

Since I started the week preaching about money, I thought this discussion on whether getting rich is worth it was an excellent companion piece. The answers from some very wealthy people are thoughtful, honest, and actually very tender.

Moving from money to peacemaking, the Pastor's Wife writes about how her husband, who had plans for establishing peace in  the Middle East, had a more difficult time of it when it came to pairing mismatched socks. Ironically, the one comment on this article so far is one woman's solution to not losing socks, which was rather missing the point.

I thought this plan to help WWII prisoners escape using doctored Monopoly games was mighty clever. I just wonder if any prisoners actually found all of the maps, compasses, files, and money hidden there.

Although this article is called The Science of Snobbery, what it really says to me is that we use all of our senses to draw conclusions about our experiences, and we are much more dependent upon context than we want to believe. I tell you one thing, I'm sure I'd be among those fooled if I were given a white wine with red food coloring in it. And another conclusion to draw: how and under what circumstances you present yourself makes a difference, whether or not it should.

The headline on this post was "Guy trying to call out 'Fake Geek Girl' gets destroyed."

The comments beneath the post suggest that many comic book geeks of the male persuasion are sensitive flowers who are hurt if you don't respect their geek bona fides when they don't know one obscure comic book character.

How interesting.

Lots of good obituaries this week, as always, because there are lots of interesting people out there. In particular, I liked the one I saw this morning for Spider, New York's Oldest Cabby, who died at the age of 94.

While it was unclear exactly when Mr. Footman first obtained his hack license, David Yassky, the commissioner of the New York City Taxi and Limousine Commission, said it was “only a few short years” after the modern taxi industry was born in 1937, when the city’s board of aldermen first began limiting the number of hack licenses granted in the city.

That's a whole lot of city driving.

Various & Sundry: Mostly things you're not sick of hearing about

It has been a long time, my friends, and goodness knows there are lots of things I could share with you today. But I will try to contain myself and keep it to the bare essentials, the most important and up-to-date...ummm...updates.

For example, we're all still talking about Miley Cyrus, right? I know there's been all sorts of stuff flitting about but I think all except this one article have missed the real issue, here: the terrible music.

Why do your children listen to knock-offs of Marvin Gaye? Why don’t they just listen to Marvin Gaye? Don’t you have Marvin Gaye records lying around, for crying out loud? Marvin Gaye sang about sex, but in a sexy way. Not in a rapey way. For example: while Marvin Gaye sings lines such as “You can love me when you want to, babe // This is such a groovy party, baby” in “Got to Give It Up”, a song that Thicke acknowledged being inspired by and preemptively sued the Gaye family re: copyright infringement allegations , Thicke sings “You the hottest bitch in the place". Since this is a blog post about shitty taste in music and not about feminism, I will ignore the fact that this is an incredibly offensive lyric and zero in on the fact that “you the hottest bitch in the place” is just plain ol’ incorrect English. Instead of worrying about your children watching scantily clad women being dry humped by men who could be their father, you should be more concerned about your children dropping verbs from their sentences.

Exactly so. May I have my curmudgeon card now?

It's strange that we're still talking about this almost one week later, given this eerily accurate description of the attention span of Twitter:

Also exactly so.

On to even more important things: your acting lesson from the week by Sir Patrick Stewart, who reviews previous lessons on the single-, double-, and triple-take, and moves into the extremely difficult quadruple-take. It is so difficult, he actually flubs it.



I deeply appreciated Jessica Creech's post Goodbye Church, Hello God. I feel like I'm in a similar place, in which going to church on Sundays is often not worth the cost of making that effort. Which is no sign of burn-out or loss of faith. It's...something else.

I wonder what has finally happened to the Bay Bridge Troll. Yes, troll, not toll. I will feel better knowing it has a good home when the new bridge opens next week.

Oh, update: "The troll will stay where it is for now, because there will be workers tearing down the old bridge and they will need protection. (This kind of quotidian witchcraft is quite head-spinning.) Later, it will be removed and put in a safe place somewhere near the bridge." I am relieved.

But you know what's even better than having a guardian troll under your bridge? Having a brand new puppy under your chair. Sam has arrived. Want to say hello?

Various & Sundry: Edible Rex vs. the Yankees vs. Matt Damon with a glass of champagne

Brr...it's rather chilly here in Northern California. Oh, did I say something wrong? Oh, so sorry. I'll see if I can make it up to you.

How about having someone tell you the story of Oedipus Rex? Always a cheerful little tale, isn't it? Well, what if I told you this version of Oedipus is performed by vegetables? What do you think now?



I think that Jocasta is one hot tomato.

I loved Jim Naughton's take on the theological worldviews of the Yankees and the Mets.

For what are these Yankees but heirs of theological rationalism in all its rigorous and systematic glory? Temporally, Derek Jeter and his brethren may dwell in the humble surround of the southern Bronx, but spiritually they are native to the Athens of Aristotle, the Paris of Aquinas, and the Rome of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. 

And what are these Mets if not mystics in polyester pants, cleated apostles who encounter God in an ecstatic flash that redeems long years of famine. Their Savior led them out of the wasteland of the Phillies and the Expos, and into a land flowing with milk and commercial endorsements. Their God has made the desert (the Hebrew word is 'Flushing') bloom.

If you happen to be in Napa and are in the mood for champagne, this sparkling wine trail map and guide might come in handy.

If, on the other hand, you happen to be in Morocco and want to find Matt Damon, all you need to do is go ask at the American Embassy.

Various & Sundry: Some really weird stuff, plus some justice and injustice

I think tomorrow I'll have to do a special obit round-up. It's been a good week in death. But let's focus on other things for now, shall we?

So get yourself a nice mug of tea, maybe in one of these upside-down mugs, and settle in.

Hard to take in isn't it? But as the blogger who posted this noted (or at least claims), these mugs are "more stable and more balanced in the hand because of the handles position (being upside down and lower down than normal). This gives a more comfortable pour when drinking due to where the centre of gravity is. They are also more stable in general and less likely to be knocked over. The inverted shape also keeps tea and coffee hotter for longer." If true, then where have they been all my life?

More photos of the creator at work here.

Hungry now? So here's a question I'm sure you've been asking yourself: What's in Prince's Fridge? You will be glad to know someone has answered that question. And it's...an unusual mix of items. There's no photographic evidence (Prince would not allow photographs), but here is an artist's rendering:

Did they make this up? Who knows? But if so, my hat is off to the person who came up with this quote from Prince about his real maple syrup:

“People say U can’t tell the difference, but U know, it’s the real deal. It’s a cut above. It’s about 100 cuts above. This is the only thing that touches my waffles.”

I smell hit lyrics!

Continuing our theme of weird fetishes, let's examine this 12-foot-tall statue of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy in the coming-out-of-the-lake scene of Pride and Prejudice. No, I am not making this up.

In a more serious mode, now, I thought this satirical list of 15 things black people must do to end racism was truly heartbreaking. And eye-opening. For example,

4. It is the responsibility of the Negro to always dress in a respectable manner. The Negro must, at all times, dress professionally with impeccably pressed trousers and non-threatening white button down shirts. Ties are preferred. The Negro should try to avoid sneakers, sweats, baggy jeans, hoodies, or any other apparel that may constitute a thuggish, frightening appearance or suggest that he may be concealing a weapon or drugs. These types of clothing, however, are perfectly suitable for whites.

Something I'm sure is on people's minds as the jury in the George Zimmerman trial enters deliberations and as the film Fruitvale Station opens in theaters.

I think this story has a much happier ending, though. What do you do if your car is broken into and the thief leaves behind his cell phone? If you're smart, like this woman, you press the speed dial on the miscreant's phone helpfully labelled "Mom."


Justice is served. Home-style.

Various & Sundry: The Video

I love movie trailers. So what could be better than a movie trailer for a movie about movie trailers?



Except maybe a few seconds of Gromit:


Or two guys who walk into a bar...which isn't quite what they expect.



Or this beautiful eulogy by Stephen Colbert for his mother.

Various & Sundry: Real amazing people and an imaginary theologian

I give up. The day has defeated me. It's 5:00 and I'm calling it quits. Workwise, anyway. But for you (and for my own pleasure, I must admit) I blog.

So many fantastic obituaries this week! Let's start with Scottish eccentricity in the form of the Countess of Arran. The headline talked about her powerboat racing, but I was more interested in how she and her husband felt about badgers. Her husband (are you ready?), Sir Arthur (Kattendyke Strange David Archibald) “Boofy” Gore, "A passionate advocate of homosexual rights, he thrice introduced a Sexual Offences Bill, and also campaigned for the protection of badgers." Meanwhile,

Lady Arran always called her current favourite badger Rosie. A succession of these creatures visited, and left a mark on, the smartest houses in England. “Nobody but Fiona would have carried this off,” remarked a friend. 

Drawn as ever to the lochside, she kept a small house on the Isle of Inchconnachan on Loch Lomond. She boated the loch while her badgers lived beneath the veranda, chasing people hurrying to the jetty.

Then there is the lovely story of Bob Fletcher who quit his job to take care of his neighbors' farms during World War II. That would be lovely enough, but even more so when you learn his neighbors were Japanese who had been interned after Pearl Harbor.

Al Tsukamoto, whose parents arrived in the United States in 1905, approached Mr. Fletcher with a business proposal: would he be willing to manage the farms of two family friends of Mr. Tsukamoto’s, one of whom was elderly, and to pay the taxes and mortgages while they were away? In return, he could keep all the profits.

Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Tsukamoto had not been close, and Mr. Fletcher had no experience growing the farmers’ specialty, flame tokay grapes, but he accepted the offer and soon quit his job.

For the next three years he worked a total of 90 acres on three farms — he had also decided to run Mr. Tsukamoto’s farm. He worked 18-hour days and lived in the bunkhouse Mr. Tsukamoto had reserved for migrant workers. He paid the bills of all three families — the Tsukamotos, the Okamotos and the Nittas. He kept only half of the profits.

I encourage you to read the whole thing.

The last obit I wanted to draw your attention to is for Vollis Simpson, "Visionary Artist of the Junkyard," according to the Times. I'm sorry he didn't live to see the opening of the Vollis Simpson Whirligig Park. But if you head to Wilson, NC after November, you can see for yourself. It looks amazing. Like a Steampunk theme park.

I haven't mentioned Ta-Nehisi Coates for a while, but this morning he posted an amazing and very personal reflection on what he would say if he were asked to give advice to the students at his high school, or to young black kids in general.

I rarely talk to kids about what they "shouldn't be doing" or what they "can't do. I prefer to talk about what they can and should do. This is not mere phraseology. If you are a twelve-year old black kid who dreams of being the next Kendrick Lamar or Lebron James, I don't really see a problem. If you are are 12-year old black kid who only dreams of being that, I do see a problem. My argument to you is not that you should stop dreaming of rapping or playing ball, my argument is that you should dream about much more. That is part of the magic of being 12.

It's all beautiful. A lovely read.

In church geekery news, I loved this legend of the theologian Franz Bibfeldt, the invention of divinity student Robert Clausen, whose work was then propagated by one Martin Marty. Since Marty is now the dean of the University of Chicago Divinity School, Franz Bibfeldt lives on in various ways. My personal favorite (to reveal the depth of my geekery) is this: "[Bibfeldt] responded sharply to Kierkegaard’s Either/Or with a treatise titled Both/And, followed by the conciliatory Either/Or and/or Both/And." Yeah, you probably had to be there.

Various & Sundry: Courage from start to finish

I love my little blog. It's just so satisfying, being able to share what's on my mind and have it actually reach other people. It's nerve-wracking, too, of course, and I'm glad I am an obscure little bit player in the blogosphere, but as a writing person, I think blogging is great exercise. If you're wondering about blogging yourself, I'd recommend that you read Mark Shaefer's post 10 Maxims of Successful Blogging. Here are maxims 1 and 2:

1. We live in an increasingly information-dense world. The only way to stand out is to dig down deep and bring your own story to the world. Your point of differentiation is you. You have no competitors. Write a blog post that only you could write.  

 2. The biggest challenge to blogging isn’t having the time, the ideas, or the resources to do it. It’s having the courage to do it. It takes guts to put yourself out there in front of the world. You can’t learn that. You just have to do it.

Actually, I think that's about more than just blogging, don't you?

In other writing news, the editor for the obituary page of the Daily Telegraph (London) explains how to write a good obituary:

You know that James Harrison is going to have a good obituary, when the day comes. Harrison has a rare form of blood plasma that prevents Rhesus disease, a condition where antibodies in a pregnant woman’s blood destroy her baby's blood cells. He has been donating blood an average of once every three weeks for over 50 years and is estimated to have saved 2.4 million babies. Makes me wonder when I'm next eligible to give blood.

Here's who else is not in the obituary pages this week: Debbie Harry, who is, instead, featured in Vogue Spain, 67 years old and looking absolutely fabulous. As Tom and Lorenzo explain (well, mostly Tom), Debbie Harry taught Tom "that being fabulous is the very best 'fuck you' one can give to a world determined to tear you down, and that drama, beauty and glamour were good for the soul when so many people around you seem to be striving for mediocrity." Given that yesterday, I wasn't sure whether I'd actually brushed my hair that day, I think I could be doing better in learning this lesson.

I did not look like this yesterday. Or any day, for that matter.

Then again, I don't look like Hitler either. Unlike some tea kettles I could name. JC Penney got in trouble this week when someone pointed out that the kettle on a billboard near Culver City had a decidedly Third-Reich-like cast to it. This gave rise to the following lead in Business Insider:

JCPenney has officially denied that a tea kettle being advertised on a billboard on the 405 Interstate near Culver City, Calif., is intended to represent Adolf Hitler, the Nazi dictator during World War II.

What's your favorite part? Is it the "officially denied"? Or (my favorite) that they explain who Adolf Hitler is?

Here, by the way, was JC Penney's official response:

@telegraph Certainly unintended. If we'd designed the kettle to look like something, we would've gone w/a snowman: twitter.com/jcpenney/statu…
— jcpenney (@jcpenney) May 28, 2013

Well, naturally.

I understand JC Penney is having a hard time of it these days, and they may want to read this post, or at least follow its wonderful advice: "There is no silver bullet. There are only lead bullets." Really, that's better advice than you'd think. Sometimes you just have to fight that good fight.

But wouldn't you rather watch bath time for baby sloths? I know I would.

Trinity Sermon tidbits, but no sharks

Mom is going to be very disappointed.

I posted this picture on Facebook yesterday, which was Trinity Sunday, as you may know since I've been talking about it endlessly, it seems. This sweet young thing is displaying her Sunday School drawing which has pink sharks, hearts, and cherries. I noted on Facebook there were three of everything and said, "You should have heard the sermon!" But there were no sharks in the Trinity Sunday sermon. Maybe next year.

Instead, I reacted to a completely different piece of art in my sermon: the famous icon of the Holy Trinity by Rublev. Because I realized, as I thought about it, that it captured something I find troubling about -- not the Trinity, but the way we talk about the Trinity: as a completely enmeshed and encapsulated system, God looking only at God's own self.

Because the God I encountered in the Scripture for last Sunday is far more interested in people than in God's own self. "What is man that you should be mindful of him? The son of man that you should seek him out?" says the Psalmist. And in the Gospel, it isn't the "I and the Father are one" that I might have expected, but instead lots of talk about stuff being given to you, the "you" being the disciples.

And as I thought about it, what I saw was a Trinity not lost in contemplation of its own Godliness, but a Trinity that attempts through every avenue possible to reach us humans, and who doesn't really seem to care what form that takes. My sense is that God really doesn't care if we understand God, because God knows we won't be able to, but that the attempt to build that relationship is all that matters.

So I talked about that a bit. Something like that. It was probably heretical. I'm certain I have that icon all wrong. But there you go. Next year, I'm swimming with the sharks. It will probably be safer.

Various & Sundry: Mostly heartstring-tugging, and some celebrity gnomes

How's your week been? For me, it was one of those weeks when I couldn't quite tell what day it was. It's Saturday, right? I know it's Saturday because I'm working on a sermon. Trinity Sunday, don't you know.

Yeah, I'm not planning to explain anything. Let's focus on tugging some heartstrings, shall we?

We'll start with Queen Helen Mirren who continues to be fabulous, this time by meeting with a 10-year-old boy with terminal cancer.

When royal officials informed his family that Queen Elizabeth II would not be able to fulfill his wish by meeting with him, actress Helen Mirren decided to reprise her famous role. The Academy Award winning star of the 2006 film The Queen invited Oliver and his family to a play (in which she also portrays the queen), then took them backstage for tea and a special knighting ceremony for young Oliver. Mirren stayed in character the entire time.

There's a reason Tom and Lorenzo call her Queen Helen of Fuckinfantastica. And it's not just the fashion. It's also the celebrity gnomes.

Yes, celebrity-designed gnomes. To the shock and horror of many, the Chelsea Garden Show is *gasp* allowing garden gnomes in the displays -- just this once, on its 100th anniversary.

“It’s good to confront the received wisdom that all gnomes are nasty,” Mr. Llewelyn-Bowen said. Referring to his wife, he added: “Also, Jackie has had to overcome her poshness and confront her gnomophobia.”

Dame Helen's and other celebrity-designed gnomes are now available to buy on eBay. Three guesses which one of these was designed by Sir Elton John.

Meanwhile, at least two hankies are required for this story about the Marine who is reunited with the dog he worked with in Afghanistan. It is lovely. And I have to blow my nose again after reading it.

I was surprised to learn this week of the death of Henri Dutilleux. Surprised because I had no idea he was still alive, or had been alive all this time (as one is until one dies, I know).

I have for many, many years attempted to play his Sonatine for flute and piano (well, just the flute part), with limited success. But I found a recording of it to give you an idea of what it would sound like if I ever were able to play it well. It's such a reflective and--what's the right word?--I don't know. It's a no-nonsense piece of music. I can hear the intelligence behind it. I think that's what I like about it.

Various & Sundry: The cats are unimpressed

I'm kind of tempted to start this week's collection of online tidbits with the Sad Cat Diary.


I hope you are not too depressed to read on.

But if you have made it this far, I hope you will read this terrific article about what we can learn from one of the worst charities in the world. I think it captures some of the key things we need to consider in aid and development work in a way that's really eye-opening. The gist is we need to look at the outcome (what does the charity actually accomplish) rather than focus on the process (how does it go about it -- assuming it is legal and ethical). Take a look and see what you think of the author's arguments.

Meanwhile, over at How Matters (because, yes, this is a both/and kind of a situation), Jennifer Lentfer writes about her recent visit to Haiti and the comments made to her by the recipients of various aid programs. Here's the one that particularly got me: "Is it a political strategy for Americans to come waste their money and weaken us?" Youch.

@pj_blue had a tweet that summed all of this up very neatly:

@intldogooder @pandpvolunteer I think the point being made is that it is easy to be a do-gooder. It's the actual doing good that is tricky.
— Philip Blue (@pj_blue) May 16, 2013

Amen to that.

So...will it do any good to sign this petition to make it easier for musicians to bring their instruments on airplanes? One can always try, and hope. Apparently,

When musicians are travelling by air in the United States, their instruments have no protections under current law. Each air carrier can decide their own rules on how to treat instrumentalists, and this results in arbitrary decisions made down the line.

Here's hoping we can make that a little less crazy.

Congratulations to 18-year-old Jennie Lamere who won a Boston Hackathon (a programming competition) with a code to stop television spoilers in your Twitter feed. Which, if you're a Twitter type, is actually really useful. What's more, she was the only female to present a project, and the only solo competitor. Go, Jennie. Another story on how she got into coding here.

On the other end of the life spectrum, this week I read the fascinating obituary of Marcella Pattyn, 92, who was the last of the Beguines. Yes, I did start humming a little Cole Porter, there, but little did I know that the Beguines were a lay order for women established in the late 12th century.

Beguines took no religious vows. They could leave and marry, if they chose. They could own property and took no alms. Women of all classes were welcomed, and wealthy Beguines often brought their servants with them. They carried on professions, often in the textile industry; they did good works, such as teaching or caring for the sick. They elected women — Grandes Dames — to lead their communities. Each Beguine was expected to support herself and make a contribution to the beguinage, through work or rent payments. They had no motherhouse, no common rule, no general of the order. Every community was run according to its own rules.

Fascinating stuff. Marcella herself, there, was the last surviving member of the order. Do we need something else like it? Or has it simply served its term?

Another who has served his term is Lt. Col. Will Adams, who had been deployed in Afghanistan for 2 years. I dare you to watch this without crying.

Various & Sundry: Now with more random animal drama!

It's been a busy week work-wise as a deadline looooms for the ecumenical version (actually versions) of Confirm not Conform, which of course means I have more than the usual number of goofy links to share. I'm just going to go for the random, here. You sort out the themes.

My favorite grammar heresy, the Singular They, gets a thumbs up from the Grumpy Grammarian, asking, "are we really to heed [William Strunk's] aesthetic sensibilities over Shakespeare’s or Thackeray’s?" Let's just consider that a rhetorical question.

Here's a lead you don't read every day: "An English coroner is being asked to decide why a man was in the chimney of a law firm where he was found dead." Well, yes, that does raise some questions.

You also don't hear about pot-sniffing moose every time you turn around.

In other wild animal encounters, Nancy Kho describes How to Maximize the Drama Inherent in a Wild Turkey Encounter. That's a wild turkey as in an actual wild turkey, not Wild Turkey like glug-glug. Although Wild Turkey might indeed maximize the drama inherent in a wild turkey encounter. No mention of it, though.

OK, I do seem to be sensing a theme as we turn to glow in the dark sheep.

Scientists in Uruguay have announced the world's first genetically-modified phosphorescent sheep. 

Nine sheep were born in October of 2012 at Uruguay's Institute of Animal Reproduction, an experiment conducted in conjunction with the Institut Pasteur. 

The scientists used a gene from a jellyfish, allowing them to produce a green fluorescent protein.

The scientists say the sheep developed normally. They claim there are no differences to their non-modified peers.

Well. Good for them, then. But they are kind of creepy, aren't they?

On the more serious side, two pieces that made me go yay:

First, four teenagers in Wilcox County, Georgia, finally were able to offer the high school's first integrated prom. Yes, you read right. 2013. They had an integrated prom. So kudos to the four girls who finally broke through. It's still hard to wrap your brain around, though, isn't it?

Also kudos to the principal who fired security guards at his elementary school so that he could hire art teachers. He took a real risk, but it looks like it's paying huge dividends.

And for your own decision-making needs, take a look at the Disapproval Matrix, which is "one way to separate haterade from productive feedback." Very useful. Who are you listening to?

Various & Sundry: Macho Obituaries and other entertainments

I'm puttering this morning. And this video captures Saturday morning puttering better than anything I could say.


Yes, it is a cat dressed as a shark riding a Roomba chasing a duckling. Thanks to anibundel for finding and posting this.

I mean, seriously, do I need to go on? Oh, all right. There's more.

It was a week of Macho Obituaries. If it came to a face-off, who do you think would win: Fred "Nosher" Powell, a bouncer, bodyguard, and Bond stuntman? Anna Merz, who founded a rhino preserve after her retirement? Or Jake McNeice, a member of the "Filthy Thirteen," better known in Hollywood as the "Dirty Dozen," which was actually up to 18 men involved in demolition behind enemy lines in WWII? To be honest, I suspect they are all drinking together and sharing stories. Goodness knows they have a lot of them.

As a lover of your basic paperback mystery, I thought this list of 30 things to tell a book snob was good. Although I think #19 sums up my snobbery about snobbery ("Snobs are suckers, because they have superficial prejudices"), #12 does the best job of capturing why snobbery is bad for snobs and for all of us:

12. You are one of 7,000,000,000 people in the world. You can never be above all of them. But you can be happy to belong.

I see some potential for a mystery series in Internet Sleuthing. This article argues that the Internet is actually good at fighting crime (by which it means internet users, of course), and directed me to a site called WebSleuths, which encourages its members to take on real cases of missing persons and the like. Nero Wolfe would have loved this.

I'm salivating at the thought of Ian McKellan and Patrick Stewart on stage together at Berkeley Rep. I don't care WHAT they're in, as long as they're together, though it happens to be Harold Pinter's No Man's Land. Which I fully admit means nothing to me. It's Ian McKellan and Patrick Stewart! I mean, c'mon!

In other entertainment news, KCTV News in Kansas City reports that "A central Kansas woman likely won't remember her first circus for the clowns or performances — it'll be the tiger in the bathroom."

The big cat had escaped briefly after its turn in the ring Saturday at the Isis Shrine Circus in Salina. Staff members blocked off the concourses at the Bicentennial Center as the tiger wandered into the bathroom, where one of the doors was blockaded. 

About that time, Salina resident Jenna Krehbiel decided she needed to use the restroom. When she walked in the door that hadn't been blocked off, she found a tiger standing about 2 feet away, The Salina Journal reported. 

"You don't expect to go in a bathroom door, have it shut behind you and see a tiger walking toward you," Krehbiel said.

Oh, if I had a nickel for every time that had happened to me...

Various & Sundry: Because I couldn't avoid the news

It's been a hell of a week, hasn't it? And to think, just a week ago I pointed out that reading the news is bad for you and I was going to try to stop reading it so much. Yeah. I think the Onion said it best:

According to a new poll by the Pew Research Center, when reached for comment on this week, 93 percent of Americans responded “Okay, enough’s enough here, you have seriously got to be kidding me with this week,” with 84 percent saying “Is it Sunday yet? What? How in the hell are we only at Thursday? What the hell is going on?” and 100 percent of Americans responding “No, no, go ahead, just pile some more horrific shit on this hellish shitshow of a week. Have at it.”

Actually, I'd be just as happy not piling anything more on. But I've got to say, Tony Gwynn Jr.'s excellent response to a heckler is something that I can see being applicable to the nasty voices in the world -- and in one's head as well.


And this notecard captures the week perfectly, and in the most ladylike way:

I also drew some strength from this lovely reflection on breaking isolation.

And from this report from someone who was at the scene of the Boston bombing and saw many beautiful gestures of love and kindness.

And 20 Gentle Quotations from Mister Rogers.

And Patton Oswalt's perfect summation:

I hope you are well, wherever you are, and finding strength and courage within and love and support from the people around you. As Ellen DeGeneres says every day, be kind to one another.

Various & Sundry: News before I give up the news

Whew! Three posts in a morning! I'm glad to finally have a little time to catch up on a backlog of blogging; these posts have been in the hopper for days. More Infusion than you can shake a stick at, I say! Here's the news:

Reading the news is bad for you, according to this article in the news. And I have to say I think it makes a very good case for giving up reading it, offering 10 points to support the argument. I'm not going to stop reading the news completely, but I'm also not going to feel guilty about not keeping up on every issue that comes down the wires either. I suspect, as this writer suggests, it will make me feel better.

Elsewhere in the news, a 17-year-old Ugandan chess prodigy is visiting Virginia to play Garry Kasparov. I have mixed feelings about the way the story is written (see "poor but noble African succeeds against the odds" trope), but this young woman's story really is incredible--and chess is an usual twist on the tale.

When a child in an elementary school asked, “What inspired you to play chess?” Phiona replied, “I was hungry. I heard that when people went to this program to play chess they get a cup of porridge at the end. So I am thinking only about getting something to eat.”

Any more questions?

My favorite obituary this week, bar none, was for Patricia McCormick, who was a bullfighter in the 1950's and the first American woman to be invited to join the Mexican matador's union. As much as I despise bullfighting, I have to say her story was incredible.

Ms. McCormick demanded to fight on equal terms with men. Over the years, she was gored six times. The worst was in September 1954 in Ciudad Acuña, Del Rio’s Mexican sister city. According to newspaper accounts, she turned her back while she was performing a quite, or pass, and the bull caught her in the thigh. “The horn went right up my stomach,” she told The Los Angeles Times in an interview in 1989. “The bull carried me around the ring for a minute, impaled on his horns. “They gave me the last rites there. The doctor said, ‘Carry her across the border and let her die in her own country.’ ”

She didn't die, but disappeared from sight. I think it was her rediscovery that is the most amazing thing.

For all the barriers Ms. McCormick broke down, I was more moved by this writer's honest account of the obstacles that are still up. It's a painful but important read.

Men are not without their obstacles as my friend noted when he took his young daughter to the park as a stay-at-home dad.

In the Great Practical Advice department, this article on How Not To Say The Wrong Thing has a very simple solution: Comfort IN, Dump OUT. Comfort goes to the people closer to the trauma than you; dumping to people further away from the trauma than you.

When you are talking to a person in a ring smaller than yours, someone closer to the center of the crisis, the goal is to help. Listening is often more helpful than talking. But if you're going to open your mouth, ask yourself if what you are about to say is likely to provide comfort and support. If it isn't, don't say it. Don't, for example, give advice. People who are suffering from trauma don't need advice. They need comfort and support. So say, "I'm sorry" or "This must really be hard for you" or "Can I bring you a pot roast?" Don't say, "You should hear what happened to me" or "Here's what I would do if I were you." And don't say, "This is really bringing me down."

Comfort IN, dump OUT. Repeat as necessary.

Now let's get to the really important news: a man paid $150 for toy poodles that turned out to be giant ferrets. My question is, how much would people pay for giant ferrets advertised as giant ferrets?

Last but most certainly not least, I LOVED Alfre Woodard's reading of Sojourner Truth's great Ain't I A Woman speech. Be prepared to be moved.

Various & Sundry: Hitler, the Vicar of Dibley, Kurt Vonnegut, Schopenhauer, and three amazing women

I learned the other day that Google Reader, from which I get all my blog feeds, will be eliminated in July. I feel a bit like Hitler about that.




On the plus side, though, there's a new Vicar of Dibley sketch coming out! I can't wait to see it.

Are you preaching this Sunday? Are you wondering why Jesus said, "The poor you will always have with you"? Kurt Vonnegut, in his one and only sermon, has a persuasive take on that.

I've been thinking a lot about health and medical issues recently, and this article about the history of cardiac care was eye-opening. It did not say anything that I expected it to say regarding clinical trials on many common cardiac procedures, like bypasses and angioplasty.

The results raise a philosophical question of the goal of medical treatment: alleviating symptoms or lengthening lives? “How much is it worth investing in a surgical procedure, with all its risks,” he asks, “if all you’re doing is relieving symptoms?”

In philosophical news, I highly recommend this imagined conversation drawn from the writings of Megachurch Positivity Pastor Joel Osteen and Megadepressing Philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer. Unless you are inclined to despair. In which case you might want to skip the next pull-out quote.

OSTEEN: Well, guess what, Arthur! Our life is a gift from God, and the appropriate response to His gift is joy.

SCHOPENHAUER: Human existence, far from bearing the character of a gift, has entirely the character of a debt that has been contracted. The calling in of this debt appears in the form of the pressing wants, tormenting desires, and endless misery established through this existence.

Thank you for coming this morning, Arthur. Continue to be a sunbeam for Jesus.

I have to say, though, speaking of cheery things, this week had a bumper crop of obituaries of fascinating women who lived long and amazing lives.

There's Princess Lilian of Sweden, born Lillian May Davies in Swansea. "She originally spelt her name with two “l”s, but changed to Lilian when she adopted a career variously described as fashion model, ballerina and singer." Doesn't she look fabulous?

Then there's Lady Malcolm Douglas-Hamilton (103), the New York Socialite who started Bundles for Britain at the outbreak of World War II and is the only non-British woman to receive an honorary Commander of the British Empire. The 13th Duke of Hamilton, Lord Malcolm Douglas-Hamilton, was her fourth husband. (The obit notes she was a devout Christian and a member of St. Thomas' on 5th Avenue. "The fashionable St. Thomas' church," it says.)

And finally, there's Dorothy DeBolt who had six children of her own, and then adopted 14 more, most of them with special needs. She also started the organization Adopt a Special Kid (AASK), which is in nearby Oakland, CA, and was part of an Academy-award winning documentary about the family.

I especially loved the final paragraph of the obit:

Two children, J.R. and Twe, died as adults. Along with her husband, Dorothy DeBolt's survivors include her children, Mike, Mimi, Stephanie, Noel, Kim, Marty, Melanie, Doni, Ly, Dat, Trang, Phong, Tich, Anh, Reynaldo, Sunee, Karen and Wendy, 27 grandchildren, six great-grandchildren, and her brother, Art Nortier.

Various & Sundry: Supermodels, Martyrs, Poets, and other animals

*sigh* It's been one of those weeks that's clunked along. I had lots of plans of things to blog, but, as you see, it didn't happen. Probably because I never did get that handsome dose. But I do have a few things left lying about the place that are worth sharing, late as it is, so here you go.

For example, there are good reasons I didn't become a supermodel. Again, the handsome dose would have made my career as a supermodel more likely. But there are other legitimate reasons, as Nancy Kho points out.

I don't know if you've been following Lent Madness, but this week the martyrs have been beating the tar out of the more naturally-death-inclined. Yesterday, however, in a match-up between John Donne and the martyr Agnes of Rome, Donne charmed the votes out of people, which broke the martyrs' win streak. Does it have something to do with his erotic poetry?

This leads very nicely into Book Riot's Date, Dump, or Marry: Famous Author Version. Your choices? I'm thinking to date Jane Austen (she would be an excellent dinner companion, don't you think?), dump Poe (I mean, creepy, although I'd worry I'd be the inspiration for some gothic character), and marry Dick Francis. He seems stable and unpretentious.

Oscar fanatics and film buffs may want to read this analysis of Django Unchained. I haven't seen the movie, and don't plan to, so I am in no position to opine, but it strikes me as a really important perspective.

I really liked what Beth Kanter had to say about the importance of being data-informed rather than data-driven. And I especially appreciated this article on the seven  habits of highly effective mediocre people:

Being mediocre doesn’t mean you won’t change the world. It means being honest with yourself and the people around you. And being honest at every level is really the most effective habit of all if you want to have massive success.

In law enforcement news,

Prosecutors in England, prepping for a case, repeatedly contacted a police department for details on the arrest—specifically, they demanded a witness statement from "PD Peach," an officer who assisted. The problem is, PD stands for Police Dog, and Peach is an adorable German Shepherd, and as such is incapable of reading or writing.

Well, maybe, maybe not, as this police report shows:

Perhaps Peach had someone speaking for him, something Pat Derby did quite well. Ms. Derby, who died last week, was "a former animal trainer for television shows like “Lassie” and “Flipper” who became a crusader against animal exploitation in entertainment and founded of one of the largest privately operated wildlife sanctuaries in the United States." I read two obituaries for her this week, one in the Times, and one in the Telegraph. In both, she sounds tough-minded and realistic. "Throughout her life, she remained acutely conscious of the inherent shortcomings of raising wild animals in captivity: 'You can never replace the wild. You can only make the prison as comfortable as possible.'"

I don't know. I think this bucket of sloths looks pretty cozy.

Best. Fortune Cookie. Ever.

Technially, it's the best fortune cookie fortune ever, but that didn't make as good a title. The truth is the cookie itself was just about average. The fortune, though, was fantastic! Here it is:

Try it with several different line readings. Also, what do you think is in a handsome dose?

Various & Sundry: What I read when I should have been writing the first round Lent Madness bios

I finally turned in the last of my Lent Madness first-round bios today. All that writing this week meant...a whole lot of web surfing. Here's some of the stuff that distracted me I think you will find interesting.

Let's start with the important stuff: Camel hit by car on Bailey Road in Concord. Yes, California. Yes, a real camel. As you see. I'm happy to report the camel is apparently fine.

"He's fine, he's hot and his adrenaline's pumping, but he's fine," Ferrante [who owns the trailer] said. "I have never done this before, so I can put (rescuing a camel) on my resume."

I'm sure that will impress at the next job interview. No report on the state of the minivan that hit the camel. Hope they weren't headed somewhere important because that's a tale that would not pass muster.

Also important: celebrating 80 years of marriage, as this couple did last November. John (101) and Ann (97)  Betar defied their parents' wishes to get married in 1932. They are being honored by Worldwide Marriage Encounter. "It's quite an honor," John told the Daily News, "but I don't know what it's for."

Nancy Kho wonders about what we lose when we don't need to wonder about anything any more. She asks, "will our future problem solvers – aka the kid sitting at her homework desk right now Googling 'Ideas for experiments for science fair' - have enough experience at Not Knowing to do the job? At understanding that feeling completely unmoored and fumbling around in the dark may be exactly what’s needed to find a tricky or non-obvious answer to a hard problem?" Gosh, I don't know. Where can I find the answer?

PeaceBang had two terrific posts this week. The first, in response to those people coming to the church for financial assistance because they don't want to be dependent on Government, is a real barn-burner. And the second, as Laura Ingalls Wilder endures the current blizzard in New England, is hilarious.

Mary and I are thinking that maybe Ma forgot to refill her prescription for anxiety medication but we are obediently stripping the beds. Where will we find dry hay for fresh ticking? The roads are bad, so a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond is out of the question.

Andrew Sullivan has some thoughts about how to create actual change  and small business owner Beth Schillaci invites others to embrace your smallness.

I've started following Solemn Hulk on Twitter. He's still considering his Lenten vows.

HULK GIVING UP RAGE FOR LENT. OR MAYBE CHOCOLATE. OR MAYBE FACEBOOK. HULK HATE DECISIONS.
— SOLEMN HULK (@SOLEMNHULK) February 5, 2013

Me too, Hulk. I hear ya.