Tuesday, November 11, 2008
A Friendly Advertisement
Welcome to my warm-hearted collection of short fiction, and stuff that should be fiction, about my bicycle, life, etcetera. This blog is basically a glorious showcase of my life's work. It ranges from riding the train to building a closet to pointing out the flaws of Rutgers University in New Brunswick. Why, there's little I've left to do. And I've written it nearly all down. Fact is, I sometimes worry about running out of good meaty material before I die. That's what happened to Hemingway. Wound up writing bootleg Charlie Brown comic strips in Bermuda because all the good wars dried up. Since I don't want that to happen to me, I absolutely refuse to slow down with my wild, breakneck lifestyle. Why just the other day I was realizing the horrible ironies of televangelism... But you'll have to search through my many adventures to find out what I'm talking about. The point is, this is very exciting and adventurous stuff. It's so exciting you can't believe it. You just can't stand it it's so exotic. Why, if you bundled together fifty different species of tropical birds in a pillowcase and trained them all to sing "When the Saints Come Marching Home", that wouldn't compare to the delights you'll find while perusing My Shogun. So get started, and please feel free to make comments galore, since I've no other way of hearing from you, my beloved readers.
A Public Service Announcement
I have to take this math course before I can graduate next spring. It's almost the lowest level of math offered by the fine people here at Rutgers. Elementary Algebra - as if I was supposed to have learned this stuff before leaving the fifth grade. Anyway, it doesn't look good because I keep bombing my tests. It's not that I don't get the ideas, it's just that I can't seem to copy the problems onto my paper. Sometimes 6 turns into x. That's because when I think "six" I see the x. Sometimes 8 also turns into an x because there's an x in the middle of the 8. I also confuse plus and minus signs because there's a minus sign in a plus sign. There are many more that I haven't pinned down yet.
This is frustrating stuff because even though I know to a large extent what I'm doing wrong, I can't seem to slow down and focus hard enough to stop doing it. So I thought, that sounds like ADD. I called the psychological testing services here at Rugters to see if there was a test I could take.
Oh was there a test. "Let me break this down for you," said the grad student on duty, "because it's expensive. For $450, you can take the ADD test, but for only $250 you can take the ADHD test. Then there's the combined test, where we test for ADD and ADHD at the same time. There you're back up to $450."
Well, the clever pricing alone put a stop to my delusions of grandeur. But there's something strange about it still. Even if I had the money. It's not like you walk in and say, "hey there's something wrong with me can you help?" It's set up like they're selling a product.
I was telling my friend about all this and he warned me that insurance companies consider ADD a pre-existing mental illness. That means they can probably find loopholes to get out of paying for services should I ever need them. That is, of course, if I purchase my test results. I didn't fact-check that one. My assumption that my friend is right is probably tainted with bias. I'm really just imposing my belief that the insurance companies lack a certain pre-existing morality.
So, if you're struggling with a similar problem, there may be no actual resources.
This has been a public service announcement from the ADD Council.
This is frustrating stuff because even though I know to a large extent what I'm doing wrong, I can't seem to slow down and focus hard enough to stop doing it. So I thought, that sounds like ADD. I called the psychological testing services here at Rugters to see if there was a test I could take.
Oh was there a test. "Let me break this down for you," said the grad student on duty, "because it's expensive. For $450, you can take the ADD test, but for only $250 you can take the ADHD test. Then there's the combined test, where we test for ADD and ADHD at the same time. There you're back up to $450."
Well, the clever pricing alone put a stop to my delusions of grandeur. But there's something strange about it still. Even if I had the money. It's not like you walk in and say, "hey there's something wrong with me can you help?" It's set up like they're selling a product.
I was telling my friend about all this and he warned me that insurance companies consider ADD a pre-existing mental illness. That means they can probably find loopholes to get out of paying for services should I ever need them. That is, of course, if I purchase my test results. I didn't fact-check that one. My assumption that my friend is right is probably tainted with bias. I'm really just imposing my belief that the insurance companies lack a certain pre-existing morality.
So, if you're struggling with a similar problem, there may be no actual resources.
This has been a public service announcement from the ADD Council.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Relativism? What?
I don't know about you, but I've been hearing a lot about this thing called relativism lately. It sounds like a trendy thing to talk about and then avoid like the plague.
I happened to see a televangelist the other day. It was the day of the election and behind the speaker there were giant cardboard cutouts of the Democratic ass and the Republican elephant, implying a reasonably balanced perspective. At any rate, I thought it had to do with what was going on at that moment. I normally don't watch televangelists but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt.
As usual the speaker was rather charismatic, delivering highly abstract messages in crisp 40-second sound bites. The perfect format for an in depth theological analysis. He was giving us an overview of the political landscape right now. He spread his arms apart to show the two sides, also making himself appear much bigger as he stretched the ability of his shirt to remain tucked neatly into his jeans. We were at war, he said. It was truth versus relativism.
I was hooked. Not only did I consider myself a member of the studio audience, I was already very familiar with the two sides, having been steeped in pop-evangelical-culture at youth group in Maine. Truth was obviously the side to be on. Relativism appeared sexy at first, but was quickly revealed to be a brain-fart. It was a philosophy that said something may be right for person A, and wrong for B. Therefore truth is relative. It's like this, the speaker said, Professor Fuzzyface comes into the classroom and hands out a multiple-choice test. Each question has four possible answers, but don't worry. None of them are wrong. That's relativism!
This drew quiet applause and knowing chuckles. Oh those relativists. We had all been avoiding them for years.
In reality, he asserted, it's not like that at all. Truth is absolute and tied to God. God is truth. The Bible is the only source of pure, unadulterated truth. It's got electrolytes.
Electrolytes.
It's not up to us to decide what's right and wrong. Oh no sir.
No sir.
There is a standard for measuring what is right and what is wrong. And that standard is the infallible word of God.
Husbands drew their wives closer and the wives leaned forward and nodded.
Marriage ought to be held to the absolute standard of the Bible. And the Bible says, cover to cover, that marriage is between one man and one woman! Couldn't be clearer.
Except, of course, for all the polygamy. But we all overlooked that minor detail because he was quickly making another much farther-reaching point. A point so big and manly and important that it made monogamy and polygamy look like identical twin sisters. It was a point that brought to light a view that was shearly opposed everything the bible stood for. This magnanimous point was that God hated to see the gays getting married. The speaker strode back and forth across the stage like a lion. You can't say that men marrying men is okay these days because... because... because, he whispered, truth is relative. No my friends, he roared, truth is not relative! The camera cut to a rear shot. You could see the battery pack for the wireless microphone tucked into the back of his jeans. This guy was high tech, yet resourceful. Smart enough to not draw attention to just how high tech and yet resourceful he was.
I think I would like to meet a relativist, briefly. A really prime candidate. One who actually does think that something we universally consider unthinkable here and now is actually okay and maybe even the right thing to do in a different land and a different time. I don't know... take genocide for example? I don't know of ANYONE who would even try to cobble together an argument that says, under these circumstances, it's okay to go ahead and wipe out an entire ethnicity, or race. The whole thing. Every man woman and child.
I'm being facetious. Of course I have met relativists. The speaker was one. He believed the Bible literally. That means that when an Israeli general ordered his men to kill children, it was okay for his men to do so. According to the general, this was God's will and that made it right. But if a soldier received that order today, even with the general's assurance that it was God's idea in the first place, I'm sure the speaker would object. I hope. If he would object, then that's relativism if I ever saw it. Am I wrong? It seems like the people who complain about relativism are generally predisposed to just that.
Or am I just picking low fruit?
I happened to see a televangelist the other day. It was the day of the election and behind the speaker there were giant cardboard cutouts of the Democratic ass and the Republican elephant, implying a reasonably balanced perspective. At any rate, I thought it had to do with what was going on at that moment. I normally don't watch televangelists but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt.
As usual the speaker was rather charismatic, delivering highly abstract messages in crisp 40-second sound bites. The perfect format for an in depth theological analysis. He was giving us an overview of the political landscape right now. He spread his arms apart to show the two sides, also making himself appear much bigger as he stretched the ability of his shirt to remain tucked neatly into his jeans. We were at war, he said. It was truth versus relativism.
I was hooked. Not only did I consider myself a member of the studio audience, I was already very familiar with the two sides, having been steeped in pop-evangelical-culture at youth group in Maine. Truth was obviously the side to be on. Relativism appeared sexy at first, but was quickly revealed to be a brain-fart. It was a philosophy that said something may be right for person A, and wrong for B. Therefore truth is relative. It's like this, the speaker said, Professor Fuzzyface comes into the classroom and hands out a multiple-choice test. Each question has four possible answers, but don't worry. None of them are wrong. That's relativism!
This drew quiet applause and knowing chuckles. Oh those relativists. We had all been avoiding them for years.
In reality, he asserted, it's not like that at all. Truth is absolute and tied to God. God is truth. The Bible is the only source of pure, unadulterated truth. It's got electrolytes.
Electrolytes.
It's not up to us to decide what's right and wrong. Oh no sir.
No sir.
There is a standard for measuring what is right and what is wrong. And that standard is the infallible word of God.
Husbands drew their wives closer and the wives leaned forward and nodded.
Marriage ought to be held to the absolute standard of the Bible. And the Bible says, cover to cover, that marriage is between one man and one woman! Couldn't be clearer.
Except, of course, for all the polygamy. But we all overlooked that minor detail because he was quickly making another much farther-reaching point. A point so big and manly and important that it made monogamy and polygamy look like identical twin sisters. It was a point that brought to light a view that was shearly opposed everything the bible stood for. This magnanimous point was that God hated to see the gays getting married. The speaker strode back and forth across the stage like a lion. You can't say that men marrying men is okay these days because... because... because, he whispered, truth is relative. No my friends, he roared, truth is not relative! The camera cut to a rear shot. You could see the battery pack for the wireless microphone tucked into the back of his jeans. This guy was high tech, yet resourceful. Smart enough to not draw attention to just how high tech and yet resourceful he was.
I think I would like to meet a relativist, briefly. A really prime candidate. One who actually does think that something we universally consider unthinkable here and now is actually okay and maybe even the right thing to do in a different land and a different time. I don't know... take genocide for example? I don't know of ANYONE who would even try to cobble together an argument that says, under these circumstances, it's okay to go ahead and wipe out an entire ethnicity, or race. The whole thing. Every man woman and child.
I'm being facetious. Of course I have met relativists. The speaker was one. He believed the Bible literally. That means that when an Israeli general ordered his men to kill children, it was okay for his men to do so. According to the general, this was God's will and that made it right. But if a soldier received that order today, even with the general's assurance that it was God's idea in the first place, I'm sure the speaker would object. I hope. If he would object, then that's relativism if I ever saw it. Am I wrong? It seems like the people who complain about relativism are generally predisposed to just that.
Or am I just picking low fruit?
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