Europe! the video

I apologize for my lack of posts over the past month or so. My brother and I took a trip to Europe, and it's taken me a while to get back in the blogging groove. In the interim I've been working on a couple of videos about our trip. Here is the first one. The sound is not great, but hang in there because I've got some great shots of the alps at the end.

And I should have a fresh post for you guys by the end of the week.





And here is the second. Enjoy!

in defense of Bromance

(Ladies, I apologize in advance: I will address men directly in this post, but I neglect to address you directly. So..I decided to give you all this special note at the top of my post. Thanks for reading. I do appreciate it. Let me know what you think about masculinity and bromance.)

I'm editing a new video blog about getting glasses. I want to get it posted before I leave for Europe (on Friday!), but I just finished an article that deserves a blog response. The New York Times did a piece on Paul Rudd and his new movie I Love You, Man. It's a movie about guys being close friends--which popular media has dubbed "bromance" and academics call homosocial intimacy. I am passionate about bromance.

Just a note: I have not seen the movie, but will. So rather than blogging about the movie, I'll be blogging about bromance.

The article praises Paul Rudd--fashioning him as a model of twenty-first century masculinity. That's true, in part. Paul has taken roles where he plays liberal artsy guys trying to figure out life in their twenties and thirties. As a liberal artsy guy in my twenties, I can relate, so he is a representative of my kind of masculinity. But it's a stretch to compare Paul to masculine icons like Marlon Brando or Clint Eastwood.

Paul plays characters who are in touch with their feminine side: they enjoy art, carry on good conversations, and have (at least a few) liberal political leanings. I Love You, Man portends to be a great movie because it examines a major difficulty in the life of the twenty-first century liberal artsy dude: the problem of male-to-male friendship or bromance.

Paul plays a guy who is great with the ladies and has finally pinned down the one that he wants to marry. But as the wedding planning begins, he realizes that he has no close guy friends--no one that he could ask to be his best man. The movie documents his awkward quest to make friends with other guys and to find that one special guy who can be his best man.

I love that this movie addresses the issue of male friendship. It has often been overlooked or ignored, but I believe that guy friendships and guy community are essential to male development. Sadly, many of us don't know how to have close friendships with other men.

A sad bi product of the gay rights movement and the subsequent homophobic backlash has been increased fear among men of close same-sex friendships. We are afraid that if we are in a close friendship with another guy, then it means that we have romantic feelings for him. For the record, this is not true.

I first noticed this fear a few years ago while discussing The Lord of the Rings movies with other guys. More than once guys suggested that Frodo and Sam were homosexual. They were joking, like guys do, but the suggestion frustrated me--in part because these guys did not appreciate Tolkien's art for developing characters and relationships, and in part because I realized that we have no paradigm for close male friendship. We saw Frodo and Sam as Tolkien intended: intimate, loving, and reliant upon each other. But because close male friendship is little represented in modern culture and media (I can't think of many examples, can you?), my friends viewed the relationship through the only lens that worked: homosexuality.

We (American men) do not have a paradigm through which we can understand intimate male relationships. And we need one. The idea of bromance can, in a strange way, made male friendship accessible by making it funny. I hope I Love You, Man can contribute to a cultural shift away from the fear of the male friendship and toward real intimacy and improved male community. Certainly this shift will require more than a Paul Rudd movie, but it seems like a great start.

The Absurdity of Facebook

Here are a couple of videos that comment on the real friend/Facebook friend confusion. Hope you enjoy!

This video is a preview of a BBC show called Facebloke. My friend Jason found it while exploring his interest in British slang...



There's this woman named Christine who posts videos under the name Happyslip. All her videos are excellent--very high quality. Here's one she recently did on Facebook.

I can't seem to get more than 148 Facebook friends...

(this post draws extensively from the February 28 Economist article linked above. read it. it's great.)

Well actually, that's not true. As of today, March 10, 2009, I have 340 friends. Pretty sweet, huh? :)

But according to this Oxford professor named Robin Dunbar, a person cannot sustain a network of more than 148 friends and acquaintances. Apparently, it's just too stressful. Dunbar compares the human network dilemma to the primate network dilemma: "keeping track of who to groom--and why--demands quite a bit of mental computation. You need to remember who is allied with, hostile to, or lusts after whom, and act accordingly."

Right...

But Facebook is different, isn't it? Adding a new friend doesn't cost me money and doesn't cause me stress; in fact, adding a new friend can make me happy because I have reconnected with someone that I knew (or kind of knew) in the past and I have increased the size of my friend network, and thereby my bragging rights.

The Economist counters that most of my Facebook friends are not really friends, and in truth, Facebook friends are not even part of my network. (The Economist only considers a person to be in my network if I am interacting with that person...as opposed to anonymously perusing their profile. Some people call this stalking) Apparently, Facebook tracks how much we poke, comment, message, and IM one another. Here are the average number of contacts broken out by gender and number of friends:

• a guy with about 120 friends comments on about 7 of his friends' walls and chats or messages with about 4 of his friends. with 500 friends he comments on 17 walls and messages/chats with 10.
• a girl with about 120 friends comments on about 10 of her friends' walls and chats or messages with about 6 of her friends. with 500 friends she comments on 26 walls and messages/chats with 16.

A few comments on the data:

1. We interact with a very small proportion of our Facebook friends. But somehow I still want to increase my number of friends. Why is that? Maybe Facebook friends have more in common with baseball cards than real friends. When I was 8, I couldn't buy enough baseball cards--I would go to the store every weekend and tear into a pack or two with my allowance. The players on the cards mattered for a few minutes, but by the next weekend I had forgotten about the old cards and wanted to get new ones.

Now, I love Facebook but would like to suggest that many of our Facebook friends are actually just contacts or acquaintances--not friends. (Well now I feel like Mr. Obvious)

2. Women/girls/gals have more vibrant social networking lives than men/boys/guys. I think that's great. That's part of why I like women: they really enjoy socializing and building relationships--even online relationships. I have heard that guys, alternatively, join social networking sites to accomplish specific goals or to complete certain tasks. Most common goals/tasks for guys: flirting, making business contacts, planning events, meeting social needs. I read an article a few months ago that said married men are by far the least likely demographic to have a Facebook page--and I conjecture that their disinterest in social networking stems from their disinterest in flirting. What do you think?

3. I don't get stressed out by adding new Facebook friends, but Dunbar's theory about a limit on the number of human intimate relationships fits my experience and fits the data. We may have quivers full of Facebook friends, but still we are close with only a few.

I like that. Even as Blackberry, Twitter, and Facebook have made relationships easier to maintain, our real capacity for relationship and our need for intimacy has not changed. We still search for a few intimate friends and family members with whom to share our lives.

And it follows that our capacity and need for spiritual intimacy has not changed. God is still there and still relevant whether I have 50 Facebook friends or 500.

a kinder, but still shrewd, manager

(A couple of weeks ago I posted about the parable of the shrewd manager in Luke 16. I meant for this post to be the start of a three part shrewd manager series. Here's part 2.)

Davidthird comes from my position in my family. My dad's name is David, my grandfather's name is David, so I am David the third. Davidthird.

This post is about David the first, David Edgar Dilworth, or Grandpa D. He was a great servant of the church, first as a missionary, then as a theology professor, and finally as a pastor. Grandpa D passed away four years ago this week, and as a memorial I wanted to share a story of the shrewd manager in his life.

My Grandpa suffered from neuropathy, a disease that affected the nerves in his extremities. The disease became so bad that he could hardly move his hands or feet toward the end of his life; regardless, he taught classes at a church in La Canada every week until he was 82. He would roll into the classroom with his walker a few minutes before class. A few times he asked me to write some notes for him on the white board, but frequently he taught without notes--for his class and for himself. His final series of classes, the ones I remember best, were on the parables of Jesus, and he knew them so well that he did not need notes.

It worked out that he taught on the parable of the shrewd manager just a few weeks after I had studied the passage in my dorm. I was surprised at the timing--I had not heard of the parable in eighteen years of life, and suddenly it had popped up twice in one month. He began his exegesis slowly, constructing the world in which the shrewd manager lived and then walking his students through the sticky text of the parable. He took his time, savoring the text and the students. Grandpa D loved the Bible, and he used quiet charm and disarming smile to teach others to love it too.

But his charm did not cause him to mince words--I think especially in his old age. He knew that Jesus was serious when he said, "No servant can serve two masters...You cannot serve both God and money." So in his calm, compelling way, he called the class to conviction, and the room grew silent--La Canada is a wealthy place.

Grandpa D could have shied away from this last verse, shielding himself from the class's forthcoming hard questions and criticism, but he did not. My Grandpa did not draw his worth and his purpose from the class's approval, though he frequently had it; neither did he draw his worth from money, though he was not poor. He lived for a higher honor, which he has now received.

Well done, good and faithful servant.

Remember Speechwriters LLC

...apparently they're back! New EP in March. Here's a video I found on YouTube, embedded with love for my friends from Claremont.

5 Things about Chicago

When I was eight I asked my dad which city was the most polluted. He told me that it was probably LA. I didn't believe him--"What about Chicago," I said, "that places seems dirty." My dad told me about the Chicago winds and how they blow pollution out of the city, but I remained skeptical.

I never had high expectations for Chicago, which is probably a good thing. As has been the case with all John Krasinski movies, high expectations often lead to disappointment. But low expectations can lead to surprises (see Grape Nuts, they seem gross but are, in truth, amazing).

I have been in Chicago for two days, headed back tonight, and being here has not been like my first bowl of Grape Nuts, but it has been pretty good. Here are five surprising/interesting/nice things about Chicago:

1. Mid-west hospitality. Cold and confused, I walked off the train and onto the streets of downtown Chicago at 9 pm Thursday night. Within two minutes of looking confused two beautiful people (a guy and girl) stopped to ask me if I needed help. I said yes, and they spent a few minutes standing in the cold explaining how transit works in Chicago. And they seemed genuinely happy to do it. I have had a number of interactions like this over the past few days. It seems like Chicago people are nice.

2. Transit. I didn't get the whole taxi/train/bus thing at first, but I have gotten the hang of it and have discovered that one could live in Chicago without a car. Praise the Lord.

3. The Neighborhoods. Chicago has interesting neighborhoods. Like LA neighborhoods they have serious problems (racial/economic segregation, poor schools, aging infrastructure), and like LA neighborhoods they have history and culture and (some) sense of community. I like Hyde Park in particular, home to the University of Chicago and this guy named Barry Obama.

4. Food and tea. From what I can tell its cheaper than in LA--better Italian, worse Mexican. And there's this great chain called Argo Tea. If you're from Portland, think Coffee People but with tea and before they got bought out by Starbucks. If you're from LA, think Starbucks, but a little bit better in every way.

5. Friendly homeless people. I have no idea why--if I were homeless in Chicago, I would be miserable because of the cold. But I have had some great interactions with homeless people while here in Chicago. They have been friendly, talkative, and understanding--not overly aggressive. Lord, what are you doing in Chicago?

That said, it hasn't gotten above 30 degrees since I've been here, and some of the architecture is really ugly. But I like Chicago. If Pasadena and Portland are 9's, Las Vegas is a 1, and LA is a 6, then I would give Chicago a 7 (an 8 if the weather was better).

a basement, a shrewd manager, a conversion

I joined a Bible study in the basement of my dorm during my first semester at Pomona College. But I'm not entirely sure why. I guess I was spiritually interested. I was involved in a lot of different activities as a freshman, and Bible study seemed like a good addition.

My church in Portland had been a liberal Presbyterian church. We didn't study the Bible much, and there were a lot of members who didn't believe in Christ's unique ability to save. Nonetheless, I was a spiritually confident freshman, and I came to Bible study assuming that I knew everything about Jesus and the Bible. I was, of course, wrong in my assumption. The Bible and this group slowly opened my eyes to a number of my misconceptions about Christ and spirituality.

My Bible study leader's name was Amber. My first impression of her was her height--she was pretty short (well, I mean, she was...); my next impression was her demeanor--she was quiet, a history major who liked to study (I think she's getting a PhD. now, studying the history of the Holocaust). We met in her tiny dorm room in the basement, and we studied the parables of Jesus. Amber started us out on the well known parables: the Good Samaritan, the Talents. She did a great job of pulling out the nuance and mystery of what Jesus was saying, and I began to appreciate the depth of each parable. Jesus' teachings had begun to scratch at my heart.

After a few weeks we came to the Parable of the Shrewd Manager (Luke 16:1-15, click here for the passage). I read the passage, and the group began to discuss. Amber, in her quiet but forceful way, would not let us settle for a simple explanation of the text. No, Jesus was not saying that we should cheat and connive like the Manager, and no, He also wasn't saying that the Manager was just a jerk--Jesus had a deeper lesson for our group and for me.

I was utterly confused. That night was my first experience of being confounded by the Bible (I think not understanding the Bible can be a good thing). I remember that night was the first time I prayed: "Jesus, what the heck are you trying to say?"

Slowly, He made himself clear. Jesus was addressing the idea of stewardship. We gain wealth, possessions, and power in this life, and there are many different ways to spend these resources. Jesus says, "Use them for the one thing that will not pass away!" When this teaching sunk in, I was left humbled. Jesus was saying something profound through this passage, and I had missed it entirely. In his own meek way, Jesus showed me that my SAT scores and hot grades meant very little when trying to understand the Kingdom of God. His wisdom is different than the kind of knowledge I was learning in school. I could be brilliant and still miss the point.

That night God converted my mind. He convinced me that the Bible is mysterious but true and that I can trust what is written there. It would take another seven months to convert my heart (that's another story), but this study in Amber's dorm room was crucial to God's victory in my life.

Thank you Jesus for your mysterious wisdom. Thank you Amber for not letting me settle.

Why is Saint Augustine so brilliant?

(A couple of weeks ago a wrote a post discussing the source of Malcolm Gladwell's brilliance. This post does the same but for Saint Augustine.)

I picked up Saint Augustine's Confessions just before Christmas for some vacation reading. Augustine is a doctor of the faith, incredibly influential in shaping Christian theology, so I thought that I should read one of his works. The politics major in me wanted to read City of God, but when I saw how long it was, I thought better of it. Confessions seemed more manageable.

I was primed for an intellectual marathon, but what I found in his Confessions was a readable and relevant description of one man's relationship with God. He discussed the Manichees and Platonism a bit (which I didn't really get), but as a whole, the book had a greater impact on my heart than my head.

Augustine knew God well. When I first began reading, I had to put the book down every few pages because I felt humbled in light of his description of Christ and the Father. He understood much about God that I am barely beginning to grasp. He emphasized one point that was especially poignant for me.

He writes, "If physical objects give you pleasure, praise God for them and return love to their Maker lest, in the things that please you, you displease him. If souls please you, they are being loved in God; for they are also mutable and acquire stability by being established in him..." Augustine gives thanks to God for each blessing in his life: nature, friends, family, opportunities, and more. If a contemporary Christian were to talk the way Augustine writes, I would probably label that person "hyper-spiritual" and a little out of touch with reality. But since Augustine is Augustine I am humbled and compelled to take him seriously.

The doctor gives thanks to God for the gift of intellect at length, providing an interesting counterpoint to Malcolm Gladwell's thoughts in Outliers. Augustine was probably a genius. By age twenty he could out-debate the best teachers in North Africa, so he moved to Italy only to find that he was a top intellect there as well. He writes, "You know, Lord my God, that quick thinking and capacity for acute analysis are your gift. But that did not move me to offer them in sacrifice to you. And so these qualities were not helpful but pernicious (deadly)."

Augustine skips over the terrestrial source of his intellectual ability--I get the sense that he doesn't really care if he's intelligent because of nature or because of nurture--and says that regardless of why he's smart, God is the source of his smart-ness.

I'm definitely not as smart or talented as Augustine or Malcolm Gladwell, so what does all this mean for me? More than anything, reading Augustine has inspired me to use the talents and gifts that I have been given to serve God. I think it is easy for me to get bummed because I don't have some of the flashier gifts to offer to God. Augustine is helping me see that what I have is what God wants--he just wants me to be me.

This week's Economist cartoon

I'm not usually struck by political cartoons, but this week Kevin Kallaugher did a really thoughtful sketch for The Economist. Obama is extending his hand to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and a bunch of Ayatollahs--and in response the Iranian leaders shrink back in fear.

Our president has proposed greater diplomacy to counter the terrorist threat--particularly in regard to Iran. Diplomacy sounds nice because it does not directly involve guns or tanks, but maybe it's more than nice. Maybe diplomacy has a power that violence does not, maybe diplomacy will restore peace to our world by disarming our enemies and softening their hearts.

Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called sons of God." But I remember that King David also lamented, "I am a man of peace; but when I speak, they are for war."

I follow Jesus, so I want to be a peacemaker. But it seems that being a peacemaker doesn't necessarily mean that there will be peace.

See the full cartoon here.

Why is Malcolm Gladwell so brilliant?

I worked the best overtime of my life last Wednesday. My boss needed someone to go to a nonprofit event in order to count cash receipts and make sure money was transported properly--typically a boring task. But when I read the description of the event, I almost peed my pants. Kai Ryssdal (you know, the guy with the awesome voice and biting questions that hosts Marketplace on NPR) was going to be interviewing some guy named Malcolm Gladwell. Apparently he has written some books.

The night was fantastic in two ways. First, I got to talk (albeit briefly) with Kai. I ended up counting cash in his dressing room, so we had this awkward moment after the event where my hands were full of dollar bills and he just wanted to go home. But that didn't prevent us from shooting the breeze. Apparently, his biting questions had gotten the better of him, leaving him with laryngitis. His voice is so rad that it didn't make any difference.

(okay, some of this is overstatement, but really, Marketplace is the best show on radio. 6:30, 89.3, KPCC)

The second reason the night was so fantastic is a bit more thoughtful. This guy Malcolm Gladwell is quick and had biting answers to match Kai's questions. He writes for The New Yorker most of the time (which I don't read. the articles are too long, like this blog post), and when he's tired of writing for magazines, he writes books. His most recent book is called Outliers, and it's about how exceptionally talented people become exceptionally talented. He writes about Bill Gates and Michael Jordan and people like that. I haven't read his book, but I'm going to write about his ideas anyway. :P

What struck me was his emphasis on luck and chance in the development of an exceptional talent (or exceptional success. how many times do you think I can use the word exceptional (5) in this post?). He spoke about how a disproportionate number of tech/dot.com billionaires were born in the year 1955. Bill Gates. Steve Jobs. Paul Allen. The guys at Sun Microsystems. Some other folks I don't remember. He explains that it is not coincidence that each of these outliers was born in 1955. You see, being born in 1955 means that a person was 21 years old in 1976, which was the year that Popular Mechanics made it clear that the home personal computer was a real possibility. Each of these future savants was deeply inspired by this article, and since they were 21 (as opposed to being 24 and working at IBM, the old evil empire, or 17 and still screwing around with Legos) they were the perfect age to decide to build their own tech empires. The random-ness of the universe blessed these 1955 billionaires with being the right age at the right time.

Basically Malcolm was saying that a person can be exceptionally (6) talented, but without a bit of luck fostering the right circumstances, this person will never reach the top of their field. Barack Obama is a perfect example. He has lived his entire professional life in post-civil rights America in which African Americans have relatively more social mobility than in the past (praise the Lord). Had Barack been born 100 or even 15 years earlier, he would not have been able to become president. He probably would not have even been able to attend Harvard Law School. (It's sad to think about all the excellent leaders, thinkers, and artists that the world has missed because chance was not on their side, particularly when this lack of chance was a direct result of human sinfulness.)

Apparently Malcolm is also successful, so Kai asked, "So, why is Malcolm Gladwell so brilliant?" Great question and Malcolm gave a good answer. He described his childhood and the love and enjoyment of hard intellectual work that his parents instilled in him. He talked about being a kid and having two friends who were also savants--and how they recreated Monopoly with their own rules (like selling options on properties and starting with $1; these kids were hardcore). These friendships created an atmosphere of competitive intellectualism that pushed Malcolm to a higher level of intelligence that catapulted him into his current position as a writer. Malcolm was very clear that his childhood upbringing was the impetus of his success, and he was clear that he was grateful for it.

I have another thought on the source of Malcolm's exceptional (7) talent, but I will save it for another post as this one is too long already. In the meantime let me know what you think of Malcolm's idea. Do you agree about the role of luck or chance in the development of exceptional talent?

Dwight Beheaded

I have terrible news. Dwight Schrute has been assassinated.


Each day for many, many days, I have come to my cubicle and been greeted by Dwight Schrute, cheerfully bobbling his head. It was a great way to start the work day and inspired me to never cede control of the motherland.

But now Dwight is beheaded.

It was a terrible scene: a ferociously cute three year old came to my cubicle looking for something to play with. Hypnotized by her hyper-cuteness, I allowed her to hold Dwight and watch his head bobble. I turned around to put away a file but turned back quickly at the sound of ceramic slipping from toddler hands. I dove back to my desk, hoping to absorb the impact of his fall with my body. But I was too late.

Maybe I can revive him with some super glue. What do you think?

Happy 2009!

Hey everyone, Happy New Year! I know its a little late, but I've been meaning to get this video up since the first of the year. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day came along, and I finally made some time.

I had so much fun making this video. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think, and it would be great if you make a video response!



Here's the YouTube link if you need it.

YouTube Democracy

I mentioned my recent love affair with YouTube in my last post. Truly, I have become a YouTube addict. For me, YouTube completes the holy trinity of online convenience (joining Google and the numerous sites that offer me great online shopping deals the week before Christmas so that I don't have to go to the mall).

YouTube is so much more than the Numa Numa Guy. I use YouTube everyday and for a great variety of things. I take Japanese lessons on YouTube for free at my own convenience. I learn how to do cool Excel tricks for free at my own convenience. I enjoy the newest Kelly Clarkson video, watch news shows from around the world, and learn about the history of video games on YouTube--all for free, all at my own convenience.

You may think I am overstating my point, and I have a tendency to do that. But I think I'm right on this one.

This past election cycle I was not excited about Barack Obama. It's not that I disagreed with him (well, I did disagree with him a lot, but I agreed with him more than with John McCain), it was the Obamamania. People in my demographic (young, college educated, urban) went freaking crazy for the guy six months before he said more than two sentences about any actual policies.

It wasn't until later that I realized why. will.i.am. That's why. He put together the "Yes We Can" video that got tons of play on YouTube but that completely missed my radar for about two months (I had a brief dalliance with YouTube last spring). When I watched it, I almost began to cry. I was inspired. There were so many beautiful people supporting Obama, and they believed that yes, we can. Can what? It didn't particularly matter; they were beautiful, and subconsciously I thought that if I believed that yes, in fact, we can, then maybe one of these beautiful people would go on a date with me.

I apologize. I'm being a bit cynical, but I really do want you guys to watch the will.i.am video one more time and tell me that you don't believe in the power of YouTube.



And for the record, I am proud to have Barack Obama as our president. He's an intelligent and resourceful dude--we'll see how he does.

In defense of optimism

I was having dinner with a few friends last week, and the topic of my future came up. I told the group that I aspire to be a sage. I want to sit in an office, read, blog, and talk with people (if they feel inclined to talk). Oh yeah, and I want to get paid.

My friends were remarkably encouraging, considering the monk-like nature of my ideal career. I have good friends. They encouraged me to begin blogging again, which I have been meaning to do for the year and a month that it has been since my last post, but things happen and plans change and blogging is the first thing to go. Two of my friends offered to be my blog accountability buddies: Daniel and Lester. These guys are supposed to keep me blogging at least twice a month, but I would like to encourage you as a reader to harass me as well. I enjoy the Internet most when I'm interacting with real people, not just writing to myself...even if that interaction involves hounding me to blog more.

I want to reignite my blogging career by writing about optimism. Now, I am not an optimist. I generally see the glass as half empty and I enjoy gloomy days--perhaps by nature, perhaps by training. However, certain recent events have led me to question my pessimism (no, not Obama). Pessimism still holds an important place in my heart, but I think that, slowly, I am emerging as an optimist.

Let me explain: I have a penchant for dreary things. As a young dude, I loved grunge music, Metallica, and the Smashing Pumpkins...all bands that espouse very little optimism and offer very little hope. The authentic emotion that comes through when Metallica sings "Master of Puppets" cannot be matched. And even as my musical tastes have strayed from heavy toward pop, I have embraced the angsty poptarts. I can't help but bang my head when Kelly Clarkson sings "Ms. Independent" or when I watch Pink's "So What" video. They're angry, I'm (not angry but I like pretending to be) angry, we're a perfect match. I'm just waiting for Kelly to figure it out.

I also love dark novels, especially dark Russian novels. Dostoevsky takes the cake. His novels are littered with suicidal nihilists, hopeless alcoholics, and unrepentant murderers. His characters are always maneuvering, trying to gain social status or position. And though I am not Raskolnikov (Crime and Punishment, he murders a woman and tries to get away with it), I feel like Dostoevsky is able to peer into the dark parts of my soul through his characters and themes. I think the same thoughts and feel the same emotions as many of his depraved characters; Dostoevsky can tap into my Id and display my sins on the page.

But in Dostoevsky I have also found my defense of optimism. Each of his novels contains a character that is different than the others. This one is unscathed by the dark world around him and in fact, brings life and goodness to the other characters in the novel. Many of Dostoevsky's novels end well, surprisingly, with this Christ-like character bringing about conversion in one of the darker characters lives. The Idiot is the author's novel about an idiot, a man who suffers from epilepsy and whose life is utterly beautiful. The Idiot comes into Russian high society from a hermitage where he has been recovering from epilepsy and delights almost everyone he meets with his sincerity, kindness, and compassion. He is in many ways an optimist, seeing the best in others and hoping for the best in his own life.

I have enjoyed Dostoevsky because I feel like he's honest with me. He doesn't side-step the darkness that exists inside of his characters (or you and me), and somehow it is comforting that someone writes about this darkness so clearly. But he also knows that people need some sort of hope, and that's why he includes the Christ characters like the Idiot. I love the contrast between the contorted lives of the Russian bourgeoisie and the virtue of the Idiot, but until recently I never seriously considered that I could remove myself from the residue of darkness and live like the Idiot. To live like the idiot, joyful and hopeful, had seemed like an unreality, but I've started to think that there is something to it.

The Idiot offers a glimmer of hope in an evil world, a great message for the world today. Our economy sucks and wars are sprouting up all over the place. But even in the midst of the financial crisis, my view began to change. I slowly began to realize that I could be hopeful and even optimistic without ignoring the problems that surround me. I could take in the reality of suffering and death and believe that there is hope and there is still something to be joyful about, sort of like the Idiot, living as a light person in a dark world.

Pessimism had a last stand of sorts this past November. I got really sick and was stuck in bed with bronchitis for a week. Bored, I spent most of my time watching comedy and music videos on YouTube. Some of the videos were dark and hopeless, and while I had frequently been drawn to that sort of thing, the bronchitis was dreary enough for me; I wanted some sunshine. The lighter videos started to stir something in me, a sort of happiness. Being a Christian, God took what YouTube started and over the past two months has turned it into a more substantial joy and, dare I say, optimism. It has been a strange experience because I didn't really do anything to attain this joy; it was just sort of given to me.

Joy is great! My life is more fulfilling and I have more energy to take risks with joy. I would recommend it even to the most determined pessimist. But do beware, I am finding that joy gives birth to optimism (at least a little).

Now don't worry, I'm still a stuffy Calvinist, but with a sunnier outlook on life. Just remember friends: next time you're looking for a spiritual breakthrough, put down the Dostoevsky and take a couple of sick days instead to watch YouTube.

Merry Christmas...

I have not written for a long time! Fear of making un-keepable New Year resolutions keeps me from promising a change. But I do want to say Merry Christmas.

And I would like to give you two gifts.

First, a video by a great Portland band called the Decemberists!




Were any of you in Model UN?


Second, my favorite Christmas-ish scripture:

A great and wondrous sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was pregant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth. Then another sign appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns on his heads.

The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth, so that he might devour her child the moment it was born. She gave birth to a son, a male child, who will rule all the nations with an iron scepter. And her child was snatched up to God and to his throne. The woman fled into the desert to a place prepared for her by God, where she might be taken care of for 1,260 days.

Revelation 12:1-6

When men need to chill out sometimes...

I love that I am male. It just makes me happy. I like that my body is strong (well, kind of), and my mind can push away emotional problems and needs in order to pursue something important. I like that I am visually stimulated, that I think spatially, and that I have strong problem solving capabilities. And I'm so grateful to be the complement to women--who are much more attraction and merciful than I am.

Okay, don't freak out, but I'm talking about gender differences. I confess, I believe in them, and I think it's okay to believe that women and men are made differently. In fact, I think gender differences are laws of the universe...ask most married people.

Three quick notes to cover my ass: Gender differences do not mean that women were made to cook and clean and men were made to bring home the bacon. Gender differences do not mean that men should make all the decisions. Gender differences do not mean that women should not lead in churches.

I also like being a Christian male. God knows how I am, because he made me. And being a Christian gives me a profound purpose and difficult challenges. How do I love my enemies? What does it mean to lose my life in order to gain life? Doesn't it bother me that Jesus and his disciples were so willing to die for what they believed in that all of them were executed or murdered? This is an awesome heritage.

Heck yes, What a challenge!

But...I think that this Christian male business can get a little out of hand. See this article referenced to me by a friend from last week's LA times. Take a minute to read it before going on. It's called "Manliness is next to godliness."

http://www.latimes.com/news/la-na-godmen7dec07,1,6460310.story

I must admit that the reporter is probably not a sympathetic ear to "the Christian Men's Movement," but the substance of this article still strikes me as a little absurd, and a little off the mark.

I don't so much have a problem with the cussing. I tend to indulge in foul language myself, at times. "That sucks" just doesn't compare to "That's bullshi*" when you're pissed off about something, especially something serious. And the guy Brad Stine seems to have a strong prophetic voice for the church, though I don't agree with his politics (see www.bradstine.com).

My problem has to do more with the movement’s complaints about how church is done and the proposed solution. David Murrow is quoted in the article as complaining about the feminine decor or most churches...the article suggests alternatives such as playing NFL bloopers before a worship/meeting/man-time or going painting balling or camping or doing some kind of extreme sport. Great! Be relevant to people! (though I would be turned off by all of the above except camping...) But having a male-friendly venue is not what needs to change.

Don't get me wrong. I think extreme sports can do amazing things for men in a time when the rush of being a soldier or running your own farm/business exists only on a limited and controlled scale. The other day I suggested to a friend of mine that was making some bad decisions that he take up extreme sports to get the masculine angst out. (I could say a lot more about this...but back to the topic at hand)

I think we need to stop worrying about the structures and the frilly stuff, and start changing what it means to be a Christian Man.

I think the Bible is manly and exciting enough as it is. But we are an over-churched nation that doesn't think this book is revolutionary or exciting. Christian stuff is part of the culture, so in order to make it exciting we have to go paintballing before or after studying the Bible. And then we just remember how much fun we had paintballing.

But God is even more exciting than the Bible. Just think about it for a second. (If you're a Christian, pretend you're not for a moment.) There is a profound being out there who has much more power and wisdom than anyone you've ever met. This guy understands Einstein's theories on levels about which the great scientist never dreamed. He has affected the world more significantly than any of those guys on the most influential people of the millennium. Here's the best part: he knows more about you and your life than your parents or your pastors or your friends. And he can see where you're going. And he can change things in your life. Not in a predictable or programmatic way--not in a way that any preacher or psychologist can lay out for you--but in his own awesome (though frequently rocky for us) way.

And history has shown that if you really follow God, people will think you’re crazy and you will do really risky things. Sometimes, the church is the harshest critic of people who have honestly heard from God and acted on it. But we have to follow Him. No one else knows the way out of this messed up place. No one else can give us an exciting and meaningful life in an otherwise programmatic and superficial world.

Relating to God is manly enough for me. I don't need paintball.

getting started...

I read the most interesting religious op-ed I've seen in a while the other day in the LA Times....read it here...
http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/la-oe-stein17oct17,0,7811463.column?coll=la-opinion-columnists
(if the link doesn't work, the article is by Joel Stein and it's called An Athiest Tries Jesus)

I like this article, because this guy, Joel Stein, is authentically experiencing church. The way that most TV shows and politicians talk about Jesus shows that they don't know very much about what a Christian's day to day life or beliefs are like. There's this assumption that I watch the 700 club, and freak out about terrorists and islam, and think...well, I just don't think that much.

Excuse my tirade. I hate to write like a victim, because I'm not one. I think I'm more of an intellectual snob, and stupidity, especially on the part of "smart" liberal people, rustles my briches.

Anyway, I liked the article, because this guy was obviously not interested in God at all, and he was very honest about it. He didn't try to hide what he really felt behind a lie or an intellectual idea or a political cause. He felt weird about going to church, and he didn't really want to go.

And somehow, I don't blame him. Church is really weird if you've never been there before. Lately, I've been hanging out with Japanese people, and Japanese people NEVER go to church--they just don't even have churches, or Christians, in Japan. I've become really good friends with this guy named Hideki. Hideki is super cool in Japan. He's a ladies man. He dresses cooler than anyone I know. He went to the academic equivalent of Harvard in Japan. He's got it going on.

So, I brought Hideki to church once and he was completely confused by everything. Afterward, he had dozens of questions, and sometimes, I couldn't explain why we had certain rituals and why we play certain types of "corny" music. It was very refreshing for me to get down to the core of what church is about by explaining it to someone who doesn't have any context for church.

Then what is church really about? I think Stein's last paragraph gets to the core of what church and what life are about:
"And, as I drove away (from the church service), I wished I could just make the Kierkegaardian leap of faith to belief in God and be part of it. And I realized that, postmodernist or not, my pride was just as bad as Joyce's. But at least you can understand some of my sentences."

Aside from the jab at James Joyce (which may or may not be true...I'm too intimidated by his long, weird sentences to even open the book), he makes a great point. The idea of church is cool and I wish I could be more a part of it too. We come together with other people to try to get to know this guy, who is like a father, who is so much smarter and stronger and more influential than we are. This guy could change how this world works...he could end the nucular arms race with a word. He could convince dads to stay with their wives and their kids instead of running away in fear. He could make me feel better about getting out of bed in the morning to go to work. He could teach me how to be a better friend to my roommates and to my sister. And the coolest part is that this guy wants to be known.

In church, people get together to try to know this guy, but it's hard. Like Stein said, we have to set something aside and make a kierkegaardian leap of faith. I think I'm learning to leap. And Stein is right, we have to lay aside our pride to take the leap. That's scary, because without our pride, it feels like we're leaping off a cliff.

First Post

This could have potential...