THE TENTH PLANET

In case you've been living in a closet or just don't listen to science news, a tenth planet has been discovered in our solar system. There's a chance that there are more planets out there, but this one is a certainty. I would have posted something witty and clever about this development, like a letter to planet X, but Kathy beat me to it and did a superb job. So I turn to its name.

Scientists have yet to name this newfound planet [other than UB313] so I took the liberty of coming up with a few suggestions, of course taking into account its location and probable environment, and the Roman Pantheon.

Here's your list.
-Cardea: goddess of thresholds and door-hinges
-Cloaca: goddess of sewage systems and drains
-Februus: god of ritualistic purification
-Fufluns: god of the growth in plants
-Mefitis: goddess of miasmas and sulphuric vapours
-Dispater: [another] underworld ruler of the dead

And the number one candidate:
-Caca: goddess of Latrines and waste disposal [i'm not kidding].

[go TEN!]
brian

Heap Big Typos

I find these tidbits from my parents' lives to be hilarious. Maybe you will too.

My mom went to trial today. No, she's not a criminal. She is fighting the good fight to receive payment for medical expenses from an injury she suffered on the job. It's a pain, because the insurance company is suffering from a severe case of pedalo-impedimentia.... also known as "dragging of the feet."

Anyway, at the Riverside County Courthouse, my parents saw this sign emblazoned on the entry to a court parking lot:

"No In & Out Priviledges."

Now, there is something very wrong with that sign. I searched long and hard to figure out what a priviledge is. But alas, nobody knows. I thought that it might be a "private ledge," but that doesn't make much sense in context. No in and out private ledges?

It is with great sadness that I have to opt for the following [and more depressing] alternative. What the Riverside County Government meant was that there were no in and out immunities/right-of-ways on this particular lot, but that they forgot how to spell "privilege."

Lord save us if these are the people who have been set in place to litigate our cases and protect our rights.

The second stupid-but-funny happening came in the form of a letter to my father at his workplace. If you don't know, my dad is the Risk Manager for San Manuel Indian Reservation, a wealthy tribe which runs one of the biggest casinos in the state [among other things].

Anyway, Myron, Inc., [reportedly the leader in personalized business gifts] thought that they would try and get my father's business with a sample personalized day planner. This is what they sent him.



There were a few problems with their pitch. First of all, this mail should have been sent to HR, not Risk Management. My dad has a job which deals with disgruntled employees, not a job which tries to make them happy with shallow truisms like "Teamwork: together we can achieve the extraordinary."

Secondly, the letter was addressed to "Ms. Risk Management." My dad's name is not Risk, it's Gregg. And for the last time, he's not a WOMAN!

To explain my frustration with this common misconception, I must go back some years. In the late '90s, somewhere deep in the bowels of the junk mail industry, someone decided to re-christen my father with the middle name "Lynn." And, oddly, it has stuck so well that almost all advertisements coming to my house are addressed to "Mr. Gregg Lynn _____." My dad doesn't need to be given the title of "Ms." on top of Lynn. His gender has been confused enough by these dimwits already.

The final nail in the coffin for this day planner company was that they put a new company name on the front of the sample planner that they sent to Ms. Risk Manager:



Maybe they thought that there was something wrong with the current title, "San Manuel Mission Indians." It is always a risky venture to change the name of your company, but to change the name of someone else's company [without consultation] is an all-around bad move.

But it is no worse than changing a man's name, as the junk mail industry has done with my father. Maybe he can now look forward to a whole new wave of junk mail, addressed to "Ms. Risk Lynn Management, of San Manuel Mission Industry." And, knowing my dad, he will patiently and quietly file all of this mail away...

in the trash can.

Thank you, Myron.

[we CAN achieve the extraordinary]

10 Things to Do When Bored

Here's a list of ways to pass the time when really bored and mischievous.

10. Buy a giant 10 lb. bag of salt and pour it all over the kitchen floor. When asked why you would do such a thing, say "I was trying to protect YOUR kitchen from SNAILS!" and run off into another room with your face in your hands.

9. Go to the mall with an old, big cordless phone. Stop someone and ask for directions to the nearest GAP, then start shaking the phone in your hand, claiming that it's on "vibrate" and that you have to take this call, but thanks for their time.

8. Get in the elevator of an office complex. Just as the doors close, inform everyone that you have a psychotic fear of heights which makes you very violent. Then grip the rails as the elevator starts to move, rubber-legged and groaning with fear. People will fear you back.

7. Glue a Scotch tape dispenser to the ceiling of your house/office. When someone asks what it's doing up there, sigh and say with a guilty tone, "I know they SAY never to refill them with a generic brand, but I never knew that THIS would happen!"

6. You need a department store for this one. Grab a stylish outfit from the racks, put it on, and then go stand in a hip pose for an extended period of time. It helps if you can go without blinking. When a sales associate asks you what you are doing, tell them, "The mannequins are threatening to strike and Corporate hired me to scab."

5. Go to a bar and attempt to go behind the counter. When the bartender stops you and asks what the [expletive] you think you're doing, just say, "Oh. Don't worry, I'm with the band." There's a slight chance he might hurt you, but the look on his face will be worth it.

4. At a MacDonald's drive-thru, place an order for chicken nuggets. When asked what kind of dipping sauce you want, say "Blue Sauce will be fine." Every time the drive-thru clerk insists that there is no Blue Sauce, laugh as hard as you can and say, "Oh, you're a riot. But the blue sauce will be fine then." Enjoy.

3. Go to an appliance store, secure the help of a clerk and look into their washer/dryer selection. When he or she tries to sell you their best model, feign deep interest. As they drone on, start to climb into the unit. When they ask you what you're doing, reply matter-of-factly, "Well I have to make sure that they'll FIT in here, don't I?" Leave them to wonder who "they" are.

2. Go to the 99 cents store. Acquire an item, take it to the counter, and proceed to try and "trade them for it" for five peppermints. If they persist to say no, go up to six, but definitely no more than seven.

1. Put on white shorts, white shoes, white socks, and a white shirt. If you have a white hat, throw that on too. Go to the hardware store and pick up a small 2x4. Next, look for one of those sign-spinners, those people who are hired out by real estate companies to bring awareness to new housing developments. Go and stand next to them and start imitating their tricks with your board of wood. When they ask you what you're doing, challenge them to "battle" for pink slips--your board against their sign. See what they do next.

[enjoy]
brian

Ring Tonez and Hot Shades

This weekend proved very lucrative for me. First of all, Tim provided me with a very nice Sanyo camera phone with flipping action to replace my previous Nokia with a far less convenient feature called lobat. "Lobat" is, in short, a unique battery which lets you talk for up to five minutes before requiring that you plug your phone into something... a wall, a carjack, a stray bird... you know, any conventional power source.

And the Nokia's back plate slid off when hit with even the slightest breeze. I'd get a call, pull it out, and watch as the back end of the phone sailed away with the force I exerted to casually pull it out of my pocket.

Nokia: thinking ahead.

Anyway, many thanks to Tim for the new cell. But I had to make it my own, and I thought to myself, "What better and more original way to express my individuality than to download a band singing one of their songs as a ringtone?! Goodness, I'll be so unique that people will have to love me!"

So I surfed over to Vision, Sprint's ostentatiously-titled phone-based internet service. The interface was clunky and slow enough that I began to haggle with my cell phone. Basically, I proposed that it would behave and I wouldn't throw it into an empty field. I slowly browsed through thousands of bands of whom I had never heard in search of anything that I thought would even remotely make a good ringtone: Sasha, Death Cab, Frou Frou, even David Bowie.

But, much to my chagrin, none of those bands were available. I finally settled on Incubus, downloading "Agoraphobia" so that all passers-by would know that I too wanted to stay inside for good whenever anyone called me.

It cost me 2.50 + tax + whatever they charge for the bandwidth. But, I thought it worth it.

That is, until I opened the ringtone to test it out. Words cannot entirely communicate exactly what it sounds like, but I will try and cover the basics...

"Fifhsingind I wanna-fshhsh-stay ins---de, I wan-a-shhhzt stay asdhf-side for good..."

It sounded like Incubus recorded this piece in front of an airplane taking off, and just like the intakes, it sucked. I guess I'll have to find some other band to help me express my individuality through the medium of a ringtone.

Anyway, I said this weekend was profitable and it was. Not only did I get a cell phone from Tim, I also got some cool stuff from my parents. They went to NYC for a vacation last week, and came home with quite a few gifts for my sister and me.

I got a novelty Statue of Liberty lighter, two pretty fashionable tee-shirts which mislead people to believe that I've been to the Big Apple, and my favorite gift of all... and I mean ever...

a pair of hot Oakley sunglasses.

When I say "hot," I don't mean in the sense that they are incredibly fashionable. They are--they're Oakleys, after all. But I mean hot in another sense.

I will leave you to parse that and move on.

My Oakleys [or "Oaks" as I like to call them] don't hold a candle to what they got for my sister... girls, are you paying attention?

They got her a genuine Louis Vuitton bag [complete with lock, leather tag, and "LVs" covering the face of it] for... are you ready?

50 dollars.

I must say, that's a hot handbag. As hot as my sunglasses.

God bless my parents, and God bless NYC. I've heard that there are a lot of very nice shopkeepers on the street there.

[I heart NYC]
brian

Potter: Narcissist?

A man named Spengler wrote an article about JK Rowling and the supposed philosophy imbedded within her Harry Potter books. In short, Spengler accuses Rowling of closet narcissism and short-sighted individualism.

It is not only Spengler who says thus. Thousands of pastors, Bill Myers... even the Pope have spoken out against Harry Potter and his crew, claiming that they teach subtle evil to fragile minds and that Rowling would have us all become egotistical, self-centered maniacs if she had her way.

But that just doesn't flesh out, in my honest opinions.

I posted on this issue once before, but I have more to say in direct response to Spengler's article.

I think Spengler [and all such critics] miss the real point of Rowling's work. Harry may be emotionally aware, and Rowling may spend a lot of time writing about how Harry and his friends emotionally respond to situations. But this serves as a starting point for Rowling's philosophy, not as the end of it.

Take Harry and his battle with the dementors. Harry is instructed by Lupin that, in order to defeat the dementors, he must find the happiest memory that he can to summon his Patronus [Latin for "guardian" or "savior"].

Harry's first attempt is to recall a rather fluffy memory of the first time he flies a broom in order to call on a Patronus. I'll admit, this is a pretty shallow happiness. If this were all that Rowling wrote, then accusations about egotism may well indeed be founded.

But she wrote more.

Such a shallow happiness yields correspondingly shallow results in routing the dementors. Harry is immediately defeated. Lupin instructs Harry to try again, with a deeper and happier memory, and Harry turns to memories of love.

Harry's first attempt accessed the introspective love of a hobby. But for his second try, Harry recalls the faces of Ron and Hermione and the friendship he shares with them. While this love is enough to form a sort of silver mist, it is not enough to bring about a Patronus. Even a reciprocal and mutual love is not enough to vanquish the dementors.

For his third and final attempt, Harry delves even deeper, down to the deepest love which he remembers: the love which Harry's parents showed for him when they laid down their lives to save his. This alone is a powerful enough memory to facilitate a Patronus.

Sure, Harry does go into himself to find strength to defeat dementors. I will give a point to Spengler. But Harry's introspection actually leads him to a source of power which is beyond himself: love.

One more point for Rowling.

It is worth noting that the love powerful enough to overturn despair [for that is what the dementors symbolize] is not a shallow love, like the love of riding a broom. It is not even a mutually beneficial love, like the love which friends show for one another when life is easy.

It is, in the end, only the self-sacrifical love of charity which allows Harry to repel an army of dementors. The love which would give itself away to another is the only force powerful enough to summon a Patronus. His parents gave everything for the one whom they loved... and Harry in turn exhibits that same, selfless love to save others.

Sirius is saved by Harry's love in The Prisoner of Azkaban in three ways: Harry believes in Sirius' innocence, Harry actually goes to face death in order to protect Sirius from the dementors, and Harry ultimately summons the Patronus to protect Sirius from the kiss of death. I do not believe that egotism is the prevalent philosophy seen here, but something far more mysterious and powerful.

Spengler's claims about narcissism fall short again when I study the nature of loyalty. Loyalty is a powerful force which, by definition, looks outside the man to a higher authority. And it is this force which saves the day in The Chamber of Secrets. Harry's declaration of loyalty is what brings Fawkes [the Phoenix] and the Sorting Hat to Harry's aid in The Chamber of Secrets. It is only through their aid that Harry can save Ginny from the baslilsk and the ghost-soul of Voldemort. His loyalty to Dumbledore is what prevents Harry from being used by the Ministry of Magic. It is what moves Dumbledore to tears, and Fawkes to sing. Loyalty is a beautiful and humble power... a power foreign to the egotist, not close at hand.

Finally, Spengler seems to ignore how Rowling deals with death. Anyone who has read through The Half-Blood Prince knows that Harry has seen death many times. Many of the respectable characters in the books not only meet death, but face it willingly and bravely. It has to be remembered that one of the most important lessons which Dumbledore imparts to Harry is that death is not the worst evil that a man can face--

Hold on. If Rowling's teaching narcissism, then this doesn't make any sense. What could be more horrible to a narcissist than his own death? That would be the end of all which he knows and loves, for it would be the end of himself. It is only the charitable who can face death with bravery, because the charitable know at least something of the divine... they know sacrifice.

No, I think that the obvious Narcissist in the Harry Potter books is Voldemort, and he is to be hated. One of his Death-Eaters even bears the name Narcissa. Voldemort's love is only for the self. His quest is to procure only his immortality, and that at the cost of thousands of lives. Voldemort rips his soul to remain alive forever, not Harry. Voldemort is the friendless one, the one who wants to become like a god. Voldemort is the true Narcissist.

Harry, however, sees Dumbledore as an authority, risks his own life for his friends countless times, devotes himself to a cause greater than the sum of its parts, and will face Voldemort even though Harry may be killed. That is not a narcissist, but a hero.

I don't know. Maybe I'm reading about a different Harry Potter than Spengler and Co., but given that we're not in different universes, I'd say that the final score was something like this:

Rowling-462
Spengler-1

[expecto patronum]
brian

emergence

i have just realized one of the more peculiar side-effects of my summer job [night-watchman for a housing development].

for only the third time in my life, i am regularly awake for the sunrise. the other two times were when i was attending 5.30 a.m. swimming practices in high school. the second time was when i was going to a zero period class called "theory of knowledge."

the startling difference, however, is that i am seeing sun rise at the end of my day instead of at the beginning.

still, i am growing in appreciation for the beauty of the morning. i can see now why many people enjoy awakening before the sun is up.

for me, it's because the sky does weird things. it turns from black to deep blue, and then the eastern horizon diffuses into a deep green which progressively lightens. the clouds turn from black patches on a dark sky to eerily illuminated dark grays, and then to purples, and then to lilac.

then, as the sun emerges to illuminate the day, the bright white stars begin to fade into the deepening hues of blue which the sky displays.

truly a glorious sight.

[to sunrise]
brian

children's literature and one of its amazing values

there are two kinds of literature to which i am especially drawn. one is the essay, because i really like to see the logic of a particular idea presented in a systematic fashion. it helps me to cultivate not only a more informed opinion about a subject, but also a more general comprehension of logic and its uses.

the second kind of literature that i find myself enjoying is chilrdren's literature, namely fantasy. if i were to draw up a list of my ten favorite authors, you can rest assured that Macdonald, Lewis, and Rowling would all make it onto that list for their amazing works. i have been reading the Harry Potter books over the last two weeks and devoured them.

there are many things about children's literature which appeal to me. but i will speak in brief only about the power of the metaphor. as i have read Rowling's story, striking sets of imagery have become prominent within the story arc. the three forbidden curses are imperium, cruciatus, and avada kadavra. the first gives the cursing party tyrannical control of the cursed's will. the second immerces the afflicted in excrutating pain, and the third is instant death [kadavra=cadaver].

knowing very little about Rowling's personal faith, i am still hard-pressed not to buy into a very Christian set of morals running in the background of this author's mind. the three most evil powers are tyranny [the removal of freedom], torture [the infliction of pain upon the innocent], and death [the taking of life]. these all smack of sin. we are born in bondage, we live in pain, and we--who were meant to live--die.

this will not come as a shock to most of us. but at the same time, Rowling's embodiment of these depravities inculcates within me a fresh horror and mortification towards them.

Lord Voldemort's employs these curses in the enslavement of the wizarding world. he uses them on Harry Potter, who manages to survive all three, but in a climactic encounter in book 4 Harry endures a very prolonged exposure to the cruciatus. i hurt for Harry, and really hate Voldemort for doing such things.

and i think that this is Rowling's aim.

when i withdraw from the narrative, i may leave cruciatus behind, but i do not leave behind an abhorrence for torture. i come back to the world with an awakened sensitivity to the impact of evil upon us humans, and not only despise it in others, but despise it in myself. i want nothing to do with tyranny, affliction, or murder in any form.

it is not just my sensitivity to the darkness which is magnified, but also my sensitivity to the light. Potter serves as a Christ-type in many ways [cruciatus=crucifixion, anyone?]. he is the only wizard who can defeat Voldemort, Voldemort tries to kill him at his birth, he afflicts and tempts Harry through life, but Harry continues to prevail. Dumbedore also serves as a Christ-type in the books. there's a moment in a battle where Rowling goes so far as to say, and i quote, "Dumbledore stood in front of the golden gates." if that's not a shout-out to heaven, i wonder what is.

it's not only rowling who does this. lewis and macdonald both do it very well too, that is, use imagery to awaken my heart and mind to reality a little bit more.

there are loads more where that come from, but i've said enough already. but pick up a kid's book and read it sometime.

[until ever after]
brian

begin the madness.

so if you've come this far, you're probably at least curious, or maybe just lost. if lost, i encourage you to click the little button that says "blogger" up on the toolbar... it'll get you back where you're comfortable.

if you're curious, i'll start out with something safe enough.

i'm brian, and i'm a born-and-raised californian. my heart belongs to the mountains, where i was born, but my mind belongs to the city, where i live. it makes for some interesting contrasts in the way that i live day-to-day.

i'm a work in progress. i used to think that i had arrived at the top, that i had only a little bit more to go before i could call myself "genuinely me." but the closer i come to my goal of becoming who i was born to be... the further away it seems. i wonder if i'm alone in that experience, or if others are discovering the same thing.

something i've been thinking about a lot lately is the way that people relate, and then more specifally the way that i do. i think that there's an unwritten rule that when you first meet people, you keep most of your genuine personality back and provide a nice and safe face, something which makes you look like the people you're meeting. but as relationships deepen, the room for difference grows--we get past the front to the real, where no two people are ever exactly alike. common ground becomes less important in many ways... after all, does anyone really want to intimately know somebody who's just a clone of his or her self?

here's the difficulty for me--for whatever reason, i like to jump the gun to try and get to know the "real" person, the one behind the mask. i want to skip step 1 and get right to the heart of things. but you've gotta earn the other person's trust--you have to show that you're not totally foreign.

you have to invest in putting up a good show.

it's not a bad thing, it's just a simple safety precaution which almost everyone employs. and the ones who don't... well, they end up getting hurt a lot.

nobody likes to get hurt. so investing time in your face, i think, is a good idea.

easier said than done for some, like me, though.

[eh]
brian