Recently Read: Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans: The Best of McSweeney's Humor Category by Dave Eggers

Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans: The Best of McSweeney's Humor Category by Dave Eggers
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

SRP (Summer Reading Program) Why Bite: A compilation of humor pieces from McSweeney’s, some are funny, some aren’t, and some are hilarious.

My favorite alternate title for this book: Humor Is Timeless: 1998-2003.

I am not, nor will probably ever be, a dedicated reader of McSweeney’s. I do, however, have a soft spot in my heart for nearly all things San Francisco, and also happen to enjoy Dave Eggers’ writing. Being that McSweeney’s has a certain reputation and specific fan base, I was surprised to find that my local library, in a small, rural desert community that tends to be predominantly blue collar conservative, owned a copy of this book. So of course, it felt like fate and I had to check it out.

While I’m not an avid reader of even the magazine’s website, I have read pieces linked to occasionally by college friends on Facebook. I always found these bits funny, clever, witty and intelligent. While these adjectives could certainly be used to describe several pieces in this collection, unfortunately they do not describe all of them. While the humor seems to be hit or miss, even among the trademark lists found throughout the book and also in a dedicated section at the end, I feel the writers’ aim was true more often than it was way off. Many pieces were moderately funny in a silly fashion, akin to humor found in shows like “Saturday Night Live” (when they have good writing) and the late night shows that include comedy bits and skits. The lists were often as funny as Letterman’s “Top Ten,” a comedy bit which sometimes suffered from the rigid format. The lists have no such restrictions and so vary greatly in length and level of humor. Some pieces were also reminiscent of shows such as “Robot Chicken” and “Family Guy,” witty parodies invoking both academic and pop culture references. These were possibly my favorites. A few pieces were only funny if one possessed the academic knowledge necessary to understand the premise for the joke. One of these made me laugh hysterically, “Unused Audio Commentary by Howard Zinn and Noam Chomsky, Recorded Summer 2002, for The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring DVD (Platinum Series Extended Edition), Part One” by Jeff Alexander and Tom Bissell. Another one, “Upcoming Titles from Gavin Menzies, Author of 1421: The Year the Chinese Discovered America” by Paul Tullis, prompted me to google Menzies. I’d never heard of him. Once I knew who the heck the guy was, though, the piece was incredibly funny.

Overall, I enjoyed reading this book. Compilations are great books to take with you when you are running around town, as you read most of the pieces completely in a manner of minutes, though a few in this particular volume were rather long. So I read this book in short bursts waiting for my son at soccer camp, sitting pool side during his swimming lessons, in line at the post office (Or rather I would have if I had needed to go to the post office.), at the library while my son browsed the children’s section, waiting for the pot to boil while making dinner, etc. I didn’t laugh out loud as much as I wanted, so this book wasn’t perfect. But it was pretty dang close.

Some of my more favorite pieces in addition to the aforementioned and nearly two-thirds of the lists:
“On the Implausibility of the Death Star’s Trash Compactor” by J. M. Tyree (I have some counter points regarding the parasitic worm-creature.)
“I Know What You Did Two Moons Ago (The Revenge)” by Brian Kennedy
“Candle Party” by Alysia Gray Painter (I can totally see this as an SNL skit with Vanessa Bayer playing the part of the host.)
“Journal of a New COBRA Recruit” by Keith Pille (I couldn’t stop laughing at this one, but it might be a generational thing.)
“Pirate Riddles for Sophisticates” by Kevin Shay
“Goofus, Gallant, Rashomon” by Jim Stallard (Please, Seth Green, please do a “Robot Chicken based on this piece!)


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Recently Read: Oh Myyy! by George Takei

Oh Myyy! by George Takei
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

In a nutshell, this is a quick, entertaining read, somewhat informative and highly amusing and funny.

Let me start with full disclosure. I have a strange fascination with George Takei, or “Uncle George” as many of his fans now call him. I was raised on reruns of “Star Trek: TOS” and am enough of a Trekkie and sci fi junkie to use the abbreviation “TOS.” Asian faces are rare on television even today, with the exception of shows like “M*A*S*H” in which they were required. In a way, minorities already have a special spotlight, as you can’t help but notice them sprinkled amidst a sea of Caucasian cast members. Nichelle Nichols stood out in her miniskirt and go-go boots, whereas the Captain’s eye candy de jour nearly blended in with the set by comparison. So, when I, as a young girl, saw a strapping Japanese man run shirtless through the halls of a spaceship wielding a katana, it was even more striking than the numerous times Kirk went shirtless. (Side note, we should have seen Sulu shirtless much more often. He must have worked out back then.) Then, decades later, George Takei reemerges on Howard Stern with his trademark bass voice and impeccable diction. By this time, I am a mom of a biracial child and notice that there are only a few Japanese American role models for my son. Then he discovers Twitter, and the world discovers that he is a comic genius and skilled opportunist. By the time he joined Facebook, I was hooked. And then I was following.

Oh Myyy! There Goes the Internet is exactly what it claims to be. It’s not an autobiography. Pick up one of the two actual autobiographies Takei wrote if you are interested in his life and career. This book is pretty much all about how George Takei won the internet. All in all, it’s a pretty quick read, easily digested is sporadic bursts. Basically, Uncle George tells the story of his two year rise to online infamy: how and why he started tweeting, how he came to have a catch phrase (and thus the title of this book), why he does it, highlights of his activist career, milestones along the journey so far, etc. He wraps up the book with a candid explanation of how he attracted and maintains a fan base of over three (now six) million followers and what it takes to maintain his virtual empire.

This was an amusing read, and I enjoyed reliving some of the glorious moments of Takei’s initial two years of internet stardom. The book includes numerous screenshots of various posts and memes to highlight stories and crack jokes throughout the book. However, I've seen them all numerous times before. While the book was entertaining, for the most part it was all old information for me. Perhaps I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't just witnessed it all first hand by being one of his legions of fans. It sort of felt like reading a scrapbook of an event I recently participated in. I mostly enjoyed this book for nostalgic reasons. It commemorates a cultural phenomenon I was lucky enough to be in the right place and the right time to be a part of. For that reason, I will probably always treasure this book.

I did get a bit more out of the last few chapters in the book. In those, Takei goes into more detail of how Facebook (and social media in general, really) works and how to maximize your reach and influence. He talks about what kind of posts most appeal to followers, which posts they are more likely to share, how often to post and what times of day are best, how EdgeRank works and how to work the system, the pitfalls of “promoted” posts, how he picks content and determines (or rather doesn’t determine) sourcing, etc. Clearly, it is an entrepreneurial science. I found a few key points worth taking note of, should I ever find myself trying to make a presence on the internet. Hey, you never know.

In one chapter, Uncle George discusses grammar nazis. That chapter is titled “Grammar Nazis.” This is something I am often accused of being. He mocks us lovingly, as he is one of us.
“I confess, I love English. I make every reasonable attempt to craft my public comments within the accepted confines and strictures of Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style. The irony of this endeavor is palpable, for English itself is a hopeless hodgepodge of other tongues, with more exceptions than rules, more chaos than order, and enough new words created each day to keep the Oxford English Dictionary folks very, very busy.”
Indeed, I have never read any book regarding the internet or social media so well-written. Modern technology is a catalyst for change, and our language is not immune. It is alive, ever changing and evolving, influenced by the methods people choose to communicate. The internet has made it easier for us to communicate, so we tend to do it much more often. Even more so than email, the age of social media and texting has made dialogue convenient and instantaneous. Letter writing is quickly becoming a lost art, though some of us keep trying to revive it. Before, presentation, neatness, accuracy, and clearness of meaning were the crucial elements in written communication. Now those are trumped by speed and volume. Typos and texting “shorthand” are deemed acceptable as long as you can still be understood. Later on in the book, Takei mentions how typos became so common place they became acceptable spelling alternatives, such as “pwned” and “zOMG.” Takei ends the “Grammar Nazis” chapter with these words of advice:
“So Grammar Nazis be warned: For each rule and principle you cling to with your fierce, unyielding, and yes, admirable determination, new and dynamic forces are at work that inevitably will undermine your efforts. Antecedents will dangle, prepositions will complete sentences, and infinitives will be split.
After all, it is our continuing mission ‘to boldly go where no one has gone before.’”
I guess the logical thing would be for us to let go and evolve with the rest of society. Just go with the flow. That would be the logical thing. Yes, indeed. It would be logical, perhaps not feasible, but definitely logical. Someone pat my head and soothingly whisper “There, their, they’re.”

Okay. I’m better now.

Overall, you may learn one or two things from this book, or maybe not. If you decide to pick up this book, most likely you are already a fan of George Takei and expect to be entertained. This book does that, and one thing is for sure. You will most likely laugh in amusement. And, even if you don’t get the audio version of the book, you will still hear it in his deep, trademark voice as you read.

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Recently Read: "God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater" by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

God Bless you, Mr. Rosewater, first published in 1965, has many themes as relevant today as they were in the 1960s. Indeed, not much has changed in terms of class warfare. The rich are still hoarding the majority of capital, while demonizing the poor as lazy freeloaders. Instead of calling those who seek to aid the poor communists, they now call them socialists. So it goes.

This is mainly the story of one Eliot Rosewater, who is born into a whole lot of money, but comes back home from war changed. He is considered a drunken lunatic by his capitalist peers, partially because he uses the money at his disposal to help all the working class people he meets. He tries desperately to leave behind his life among the 1% and join their ranks. He periodically runs away from home to join fire departments, and eventually relocates to Rosewater County to live among the people. He loves everyone unconditionally; even his abusive father disregards his son’s love as meaningless because he freely gives it to everyone.

There was more cursing, made harsher by the fact that the Senator was close to tears.
“Why would you swear when I say I love you, Father?”
“You’re the man who stands on a street corner with a roll of toilet paper, and written on each square are the words, ‘I love you.’ And each passer-by, no matter who, gets a square all his or her own. I don’t want my square of toilet paper.”
“I didn’t realize it was toilet paper.”

Senator Rosewater is the stereotypical capitalist. There is nothing more important to him than money and the control over others that it brings. The way Eliot views the world baffles him.

“Eliot—“
“Sir—“
“We come to a supremely ironic moment in history, for Senator Rosewater of Indiana now asks his own son, ‘Are you or have you ever been a communist?’”
“Oh, I have what a lot of people would probably call communist thoughts,” said Eliot artlessly, “ but, for heaven’s sakes, Father, nobody can work with the poor and not fall over Karl Marx from time to time—or just fall over the Bible, as far as that goes. I think it’s terrible the way people don’t share things in this country. I think it’s a heartless government that will let one baby be born owning a big piece of the country, the way I was born, and let another baby be born without owning anything. The least a government could do, it seems to me, is to divide things up fairly among the babies. Life is hard enough, without people having to worry themselves sick about money, too. There’s plenty for everybody in this country, if we’ll only share more.”
“And just what do you think that would do to incentive?”
“You mean fright about not getting enough to eat, about not being able to pay the doctor, about not being able to give your family nice clothes, a safe, cheerful, comfortable place to live, a decent education, and a few good times?”

The horrors of war, specifically Eliot’s accidental killing of firemen, and a steady diet of booze leaves Eliot emotionally crippled. He struggles to reconcile his charitable impulses with the way others condemn him for it. All the while, something deep down bothers him. What happened during the war haunts him, fills him with guilt, and drives him to drink and devote himself to a life in service of others. Even though he is worshipped by the people he helps, he does not think very much of himself. Eliot feels that he does not deserve to have wealth and privilege. This is illustrated mostly by the shabby way he takes care of himself, neglecting hygiene, living in squalor, and giving away expensive suits and wearing discarded secondhand suits. Eliot simplifies his purpose in life down to one sentence.

“There’s only one rule that I know of, babies—:
God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.”

That is, until he hears “the click” after a conversation with his father. Another character explains.

“You get to know a man, and down deep there’s something bothering him bad, and maybe never find out what it is, but it’s what makes him do like he does, it’s what makes him look like he’s got secrets in his eyes. … Unless he dies young, though, or unless he gets everything all his way and nothing big goes wrong, that thing inside of him is going to run down like a wind-up toy. … You’re working along, and all of a sudden you hear this click from him. You turn to look at him. He’s stopped working. He’s all calmed down. He looks real dumb. He looks real sweet. You look in his eyes, and the secrets are gone. He can’t even tell you his own name right then. He goes back to work, but he’ll never be the same. That thing that bothered him so will never click on again. It’s dead, it’s dead.  And that part of that man’s life where he had to be a certain crazy way, that’s done!”

Eliot devotes himself entirely to the fire department and the care of others. He pays their expenses, listens to their problems, and is simply there … waiting by the phone. He is sort of stuck in limbo between the world of privilege and the world occupied by the real, every day people of Rosewater County, Indiana. These people are weighed down by their troubles, and the thing about that is that a lack of money is not their biggest worry. It does, however, rank pretty high.

The workmen had an uneasy respect for Fred. They tried to be cynical about what he sold, but they knew in their hearts that he was offering the only get-rich-quick scheme that was open to them: to insure themselves and die soon.

Fred Rosewater, in stark contrast to Eliot, is a long lost, distant potential heir to the Rosewater fortune. He sold insurance, making a living off the desperation of his fellow working class neighbors. All were laboring under the illusion that what they really craved was intertwined with money. What they really lacked the most, the thing that troubled them the most, was a lack of self worth. Vonnegut illustrates this in a conversation that Fred has with his wife after discovering a portion of his heritage.

“The point I’m trying to make,” he said, “is—we are somebody. I am sick and I am tired of pretending that we just aren't anybody.”
“I never pretended we weren't anybody.”
“You've pretended I wasn't anybody.” This was daringly true, and said almost accidentally. The truth of it stunned them both. “You know what I mean,” said Fred. He pressed on, did so gropingly, since he was in the unfamiliar condition of having poignant things to say, of being by no means at the end of them. 
“These phony bastards you think are so wonderful, compared to us—compared to me—I’d like to see how many ancestors they could turn up that could compare with mine. I've always thought people were silly who bragged about their family trees—but, by God, if anybody wants do any comparing, I’d be glad to show ‘em mine! Let’s quit apologizing!”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Other people say, ‘Hello’ or ‘Goodbye!’ We always say, ‘Excuse me,’ no matter what we’re doing.” He threw up his hands. “No more apologies! So we’re poor! All right, we’re poor! This is America! And America is one place in this sorry world where people shouldn't have to apologize for being poor. The question in America should be, ‘Is this guy a good citizen? Is he honest? Does he pull his own weight?' “

In true Vonnegut style, however, the doomed working class stiff cannot catch a break. When he takes his wife down to show him the manuscript of the story of his ancestors, the story that gave him pride and purpose, he discovers that it has been eaten by termites.

After Eliot hears the click, he winds up in an insane asylum suffering memory loss. In the end, he regains his faculties to announce that the answer to his legal troubles is to give away his inheritance to children of the poor. This comes after an interesting speech by one Kilgore Trout, Vonnegut’s literary alter ego. Trout, a paperback romance/science fiction writer described earlier in the novel as looking “like a frightened, aging Jesus, whose crucifixion had been commuted to imprisonment for life,” tells Eliot that his time in Rosewater was an experiment in “how to love people who have no use.” Americans, he says, have long been conditioned to hate themselves and anyone else who cannot or does not work. “Poverty is a relatively mild disease for even a very flimsy American soul, but uselessness will kill strong and weak souls alike, and kill every time. We must find a cure.” With advances in technology, Trout suggests there is a growing epidemic of people being considered worthless because they are not needed for work now done by machines. “So— if we can’t find reasons and methods for treasuring human beings because they are human beings, then we might as well, as has so often been suggested, rub them out.” And of course Senator Rosewater, who turns to Trout come up with an excuse for Eliot’s behavior that a judge would buy, doesn't recognize the truth in his words.

In this novel, Vonnegut did what he does best. He painted a portrait showing the stark ugliness of humanity, with just a touch of beauty peaking through the brush strokes. A bit more crass than some of his other works, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater drips with the bitter cynicism that is characteristic of its writer. Eliot sought to be useful, and to make others feel needed and wanted. What started out as an illustration of the struggle between the classes, of communism versus capitalism, of the stereotypes the rich and poor have of each other, turned out to be a lament of the common man’s loss of usefulness. Like Fred’s customers, many feel like they worth more dead than alive, a situation certainly exasperated by the way they are treated. Trout claimed that Eliot’s experiment proved that such individuals can be loved for simply being themselves, and that love is not meaningless just because they did not do something to earn it. The moral of the story, concisely expressed, is to be kind.


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Recently Read: "The Scavengers' Manifesto" by Anneli Rufus

I actually read this book last September, but just got around to writing a review for it. I had to let it digest for a while, I suppose.

The Scavengers' Manifesto by Anneli Rufus
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I picked this book up at the Dollar Tree for a buck. I thought I could learn some techniques and secrets about scavenging. I never wanted to be a "freegan," but I do enjoy yard sales, thrift stores and never paying full price for new stuff. So, when I saw this during my weekly trip to the cheapest retail chain in town, I tossed it into my basket.

I found the book amusing, but not what I expected. I didn't take the term "manifesto" in the title seriously, but I should have. That's exactly what this book is. It's not so much a "how-to" as much as it is an explanation of a life philosophy. It is written by two people, who assume are a couple. While I'm not sure which individual wrote which chapters, I could tell they were written by two distinct personalities, one more analytic and one more poetic. The chapters written by the analytic mind were more informative. The others were amusing, though repetitive.

This book gives an interesting perspective of the history of scavengers' roll in society, from hunter-gatherer cavemen to the rag-pickers of Dickens' England, to the American hippie and punk movements. The portions of the book dealing with the historical significance of scavenging were fascinating, as were the sections on the scavengers of the animal kingdom.

The majority of the book totes the scavenging philosophy, over and over. It's stated in a variety of different ways, but in such a whimsical Mary Poppins like way that it wasn't nearly as annoying as it could have been. Clearly this is a matter of great conviction for these writers, and evidently it makes them incredibly happy and their life worth living, though they claim they are misunderstood by most people. They even explore the notion that it could be a considered religion. For the most part, I agreed with the tenets of their philosophy. There are different degrees of followers, according to the book. The all or nothing freegan who never purchases anything, the retail scavenger who never buys new and loves a good thrift store find, the bargain hunter who never pays full price, and every possible version in between. It's a very open, understanding life style that does not judge variations. So they say.

There is one specific notion though that was mentioned multiple times that rubbed me the wrong way. The writers claim that one does not find the items, but the items find the scavenger. Just wait, and what you need will present itself eventually. I can understand that, though sometimes the need can't wait. But the book claims that we should keep every single thing we find regardless of need or desire. They tell of finding an incredibly ugly painting, taking it home and hanging it up. That baffles me. Why keep something you don't want or need? Put it back out there in circulation. Someone else might like it or need it. If you already have a perfectly good toaster, leave the one in the free box for someone else. The unneeded items you hold onto just become junk cluttering your home. In a way, this book seems to be advocating hoarding, a serious psychological disorder. I was left shuddering at the thought of what the authors' house must look like.

Overall, it was a fun read and definitely work the dollar I paid for it. It's nice to know that you don't have to dumpster dive to be included in the group. Despite the repetitive nature of much of the text, I did learn quite a bit about a lifestyle that has characteristics bordering on religious. I may not dive in with both feet, but the concept of doing a little bit of legwork to re-purpose or reuse an item rather than buying new doesn't seem unreasonable. If nothing else, the lifestyle saves money, not to mention is way better for the planet. Too many perfectly good items are thrown away just to be replaced by identical items right out of the factory. Like the book says, scavenging is beneficial for the economy, society and environment. But take heart, without mainstream retail shoppers, there would be nothing to scavenge. That's the paradox that those who scavenge must accept.

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Recently Read: "Don't You Forget About Me: contemporary Writers on the Films of John Hughes" by Jaime Clark

Don't You Forget About Me: Contemporary Writers on the Films of John Hughes by Jaime Clarke
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I bought this at the Dollar Tree a few years back and finally got around to reading it. If you are looking for a collection of essays that critique, analyze or otherwise delineate John Hughes' movies, keep moving. This is clearly a collection of point of view essays, most of which are somewhat self-indulgent reflections of the writers' youth. It's actually rather good, and some of the essays remind me of trying to connect profound academic thought with pop culture in college papers for the "cooler" professors that were more indulgent of such things. Sometimes I really miss being a student. Many of the essays are witty yet poignant, funny and irreverent yet nostalgic and sensitive. I found it comforting to know that I'm not the only one who thought Molly Ringwald's dress at the end of "Pretty in Pink" was atrocious after she finished altering it (it looked much better as a vintage dress before she hacked it barbarically with those scissors), nor am I the only one disappointed that Annie Potts' character sold out her uniqueness to date a square.

Follows are my notes on the individual essays.

The forward by Ally Sheedy was touching and gave a small glimpse of what production was like on the set of an iconic movie. The introduction left me thinking that the editor is a bit full of himself, yet still a somewhat witty writer.

Steve Almond - an insightful essay that drew attention to details I've missed in countless viewings of "Ferris." This was one of my two favorite essays (the other one being Ryan Boudinot's), and left me wanting to rewatch "Ferris" and note the instances in the movie he referenced.

Julianna Baggott - I didn't agree entirely, but she made a few good points regarding sexism in high school society. Not much has changed.

Lisa Borders - Her premise is that the fantasy ending of "Sixteen Candles" is plausible as long as you leave off "happily ever after." My premise is that there isn't much of a point unless you assume they wind up together and eventually have a good life together, not perfect ... just good.

Ryan Boudinot - I rather enjoyed this essay despite the fact that I couldn't really relate to the subject matter. He made some excellent points and I thoroughly appreciated how he connected Mitchell-Smith's post acting collegiate work with the themes in one of the campiest movies ever. This one was perhaps the only essay in the collection that felt academic in style.

T Cooper - The writer, as a LGBTQ youth identifies with the sexually ambiguous characters in movies. A fun read, but hardly enlightening.

Quinn Dalton - While just as self indulgent and introspective as T Cooper's essay (less about the subject movie and more about the writer), her interpretation of "Sixteen Candles" and application of it to her experiences is interesting.

Emily Franklin - The perils of trying to turn friendships into romances. I would say it only happens in the movies and on TV, but it happened to me. The lesson here is that you can't force it.

Lisa Gabriele - A touching, bitter portrait that compares poor and rich classes as illustrated in the movie "Pretty in Pink."

Tod Goldberg - Grown man blames random actor for lack of high school dating success, and later embarrasses himself in front of said actor. Not one of the better essays in the book.

Nina de Gramont - Woman finds self-realization in an online quiz. Deeper than you would think.

Tara Ison - Less of an essay than a reflection on being on the edge of adulthood, of stalling that last step into the real world of grownups, and of using movies to escape from it.

Allison Lynn - Ferris Bueller teaches us that life is better with harmless adventures, even when they don't go as planned, and that everyone is equally cool.

John McNally - Taking out his bitter resentment of the socioeconomic class division between the North Side and South Side of Chicago on the otherwise endearing characters in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off."

Dan Pope - Rather superficial view of life and relationships, and how even when peaking early means you don't realize your dreams, you can still be content with your lot in life. Not a great essay.

Lewis Robinson - Ally Sheedy' s character in "The Breakfast Club" inspires a young man to pursue batshit crazy.

Ben Schrank - I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Schrank has a Mary Stuart Masterson shrine hidden behind the clothes in his closet, not to mention a rather large therapy bill.

Elizabeth Searle - Hughes' movies, particularly those featuring Molly Ringwald, are incredibly accurate portrayals of teen angst and insecurities. Especially if you seriously over think them.

Mary Sullivan - Evidently the majority of John Hughes movies can be simplified into the Cinderella archetypal story pattern, which the writer tries to apply to her own experience while referencing a completely unrelated yet classic song.

Rebecca Wolff - Psycho babble about Ferris Bueller by a former high school mean girl who thinks her self-centered life might have been somewhat better if she had made friends with the unpopular kid who dressed weird and didn't give a hoot that Wolff and her ilk ignored her. This essay, and writer, are just annoying to me.

Moon Unit Zappa - Not so much an essay on John Hughes movies as it is an autobiographical sketch of her teen years and how she decided to become a writer. The most interesting item is that evidently Molly Ringwald once dated her brother Dweezil. The only thing Zappa really notes about the movies is how they reflected a life and culture completely foreign to her own upbringing. It is interesting as a glimpse into the life of the child of a rock legend, and amusing how much she name drops.

Overall, it was an amusing read, but not a book I will revisit, hold onto or necessarily recommend to friends or family unless I know they would be interested in something exactly along these lines. I cannot think of anyone this description would apply to at the moment.


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Recently Read: "Look at the Birdie: Short Fiction" by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Look at the Birdie: Short Fiction by Kurt Vonnegut
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The first book by Kurt Vonnegut that I read was “Cat’s Cradle.” It hooked me, and even as a high school sophomore I identified with the cynical world view. For many, the first introduction to Vonnegut’s writing is “Slaughterhouse 5.” I think this is unfortunate. That particular work requires a lot more than most high school students are willing to give a book they didn’t choose to read on their own. “Cat’s Cradle” is a much gentler introduction, I think. However, that’s just my opinion. One could debate it either way until the cows come home.

What would definitely, without a doubt, be a horrible introduction for someone who has yet to read Vonnegut is “Look at the Birdie,” a collection of previously unpublished short stories. This is a posthumous publication, and that fact is rather obvious to anyone who has ever attempted to write themselves. Anyone who has ever given it a go is more than likely to have accumulated a file folder (whether digital or actual paper – I personally have both.) full of stories that aren’t quite right. We save them, perhaps with the intention of working on them further to fix the problems with dialogue, plot or continuity. We set them aside and await the elusive “A-ha” moment when we magically know just what to do with a lackluster story. Or perhaps each story, while painfully inadequate, contains a few clever nuggets that could be salvaged and used in a better story. Or perhaps we are simply anal pack rats who never throw anything away. Regardless, our overall intention is that the stories in that file will never see the light of day in their current state.  I have the strong suspicion that the short stories in this collection were discovered in such a folder in Mr. Vonnegut’s filing cabinet.

There are some who find the posthumous publishing of such stories offensive. Mr. Vonnegut, no doubt, didn’t publish them for a reason. It violates the deceased last wishes, some would say, and invades his privacy. I’m not of that opinion. Anything left behind is fair game. I felt that way when they ransacked Douglas Adams’ old Macintoshes, and I feel that way now. For this exact reason, I plan to include a clause in my will that will specify that upon my death certain papers, journals and files are to be destroyed without ever being opened. Of course, I will never know if my wishes are carried out. Not that it matters, as I doubt I will ever be remotely famous enough for anyone to care. But, I digress.

We all have our literary heroes, and certainly they earned such adoration. Still, we usually only read (and reread) their polished masterpieces. These works, in their magnificence, are a wonderful introduction to an author. And, if the author happens to be prolific, these works can give us years of amazement, joy, and endless provocations of deep thoughts and profound realizations. Yet, after you have explored much of what the author wanted you to see, there is some benefit to reading what the author wasn’t ready to share with the public at large. That’s the opportunity “Look at the Birdie” gives us … a chance to see a different side of Vonnegut’s writing – the unfinished side.

Not all of these stories are very good, which helps the diehard fan of Vonnegut see him as a flawed human who worked through a process to give us such great works. As a fledging writer, this can be inspiring. “Slaughterhouse 5,” “Player Piano,” “Cat’s Cradle,” etc. didn’t just flow from his typewriter like honey. They didn’t fall onto the page like manna from heaven. Mr. Vonnegut worked at it, and he worked hard. Sidney Offit writes in the Foreword, “Unpublished is not a word we identify with a Kurt Vonnegut short story. It may well be that these stories didn’t appear in print because for one reason or another they didn’t satisfy Kurt. He rewrote and rewrote, as his son, Mark, as well as agents and editors testify. Although Kurt’s style may seem casual and spontaneous, he was a master craftsman, demanding of himself perfection of the story, the sentence, the word.”

I’ve read much of what Mr. Vonnegut considered “perfect” enough to publish, but it was enlightening to read stories that didn’t meet his demands. Much like reading first drafts of heavily reworked manuscripts, you get the sense of raw imagination and creativity. You can almost see the flow of thought as an idea develops. Sometimes the story doesn’t really go anywhere, and some plots are not developed to the satisfaction of the reader, but always evident is the author’s inspiration and the idea he was trying to convey. It’s a glimpse of the master at work, a chance to peek behind the scenes. I once saw an exhibit of Van Gogh. It wouldn’t have been a complete experience if it didn’t include pencil sketches that later led to some of his famous paintings. It’s the same idea that made the Beatles Anthology series (released in 1995-1996) so intriguing. Here the average music lover was given the chance to hear the bad takes and mistakes made by the legendary band as they pieced together the versions of famous songs we know and love. You don’t have to know much about music to be able to enjoy listening to them attempt a song as a waltz and later decide it sounds better in 4/4 time, work out complex guitar fingering or play around with lyrics. You end up appreciating their music even more. Much the same, I put down “Look at the Birdie” appreciating Mr. Vonnegut’s talent and hard work more, even the less than “perfect” pieces.

I only wish the editors had provided a time line for these stories, so I could know when each of these stories was written and whether or not parts were “salvaged” for use in later works that were actually published. I found myself being reminded of other works by elements of certain stories, which made me wonder if it was written prior and Mr. Vonnegut simply recycled particular elements into a more “perfect” story line. Also, some stories seem downright optimistic, which I don’t normally associate with Vonnegut’s writing and makes me wonder if they were written when he was much younger and still working through what had happened to him during the war. I also found myself wondering if one or two were written before he was captured by the Germans and held in Dresden. I haven’t come across any biographical indication that he wrote prior to his post-war life, but it seems writing ran in his family. I’d like to think it’s possible he started writing as a young man, since it seemed such a logical choice for him to pursue the career after he was discharged and really had something to say.

This collection contains fourteen stories, of various length and theme. I will try my best not to give too much away in the form of spoilers. All were intriguing and interesting in one way or another. I didn’t like a couple of them, and absolutely loved a few others. Many left me scratching my head, not sure what to think. I am refraining from sharing which ones I liked and which ones I didn’t, mostly because that is a particularly subjective assessment. Besides, it was worthwhile to read every single one.

“Confido” is the story of how a device that talks in your ear affects the inventor’s family.
“FUBAR” seems to be perhaps a precursor to “Player Piano.” The first paragraph ends with this sentiment: “Fubar is worthy of a better fate, meaning as it does fouled up beyond all recognitionly useful and interesting word in that it describes a misfortune brought about not by malice but by administrative accidents in some large and complex organization.”
"Shout About it from the Housetops" is funny and light-hearted. The protagonist is a straight man who absentmindedly wanders into a comical scene.
"Ed Luby's Key Club" is an interesting portrayal of the best and worst of humanity, two polar opposites with nothing in between to temper the two extremes.
"A Song for Selma" is uncharacteristically upbeat, positive and ends on a hopeful note.
“Hall of Mirrors” could have been featured on “Alfred Hitchcock Presents.” It’s rather predictable and corny until the very last two short paragraphs, which slap the reader in the face with a twist out of nowhere. This is the first of two stories in the collection that mention a specific round ballroom lined with mirrors and it’s connection with therapy.
"The Nice Little People" is an intriguing concept that I wish had been more developed. It would have made a great episode of “The Twilight Zone.” It ends on a decidedly hopeless note.
"Hello, Red” is very depressing portrait of humanity at its most base and ugliest.
“Little Drops of Water” was entirely unpredictable and clever, but again doesn’t paint a pretty picture of society. I imagine it would be similar to “Fatal Attraction,” if that movie starred Doris Day and Rock Hudson and Tony Randall was the narrator.
"The Petrified Ants," clearly influenced by the Cold War era in which it was written, is a heavy handed commentary on communist Russia that compares humanity to pre-Mesozoic ants. The comparison bears a striking resemblance to the current situation in the good ol' USA.
"The Honor of a Newsboy" is told from the point of view of an adult who is jealous of the world seen through the eyes of a 10 year old idealist. Preserving the boy’s innocence is his highest priority. And, I mean highest.
In "Look at the Birdie" a man is hustled in a rather alarming, sadistic way. In today’s world of surveillance and camera phones, I can totally see this type of crime happening. This is the second story that mentions a mirror lined ballroom with a connection to some form of therapy.
"King and Queen of the Universe" is a loss of innocence tale that takes place during the Great Depression, but could be retold during modern times. I couldn’t help but think of the Occupy Wall Street Movement, particularly the kids graduating with staggering debt only to find there are no jobs available. In this story, two offspring of the 1% open their eyes to the suffering of a member of the 99%. (I might have given too much away on this story. Sorry.)
I couldn’t tell where "The Good Explainer" was going, and wasn’t sure where I was once Mr. Vonnegut took me there. It left me thinking the tragedies of our past will always leave a mark on our present and future, and sometimes the reasons are impossible to explain.

I hope I left you intrigued.

Needless to say the second volume of unpublished stories by Mr. Vonnegut, entitled “While Mortals Sleep” has been on my Amazon wish list since its release this past January. Now that I’ve read “Birdie,” I’m really looking forward to reading it.


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Recently Read: "Never Let Me Go"

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I was very interested in reading this book, but was disappointed once I started. It took me a rather long time to get into the story. Still, I persevered, as the book was recommended and I'm a sucker for anything that boasts both science fiction and an alternate timeline from our own.

However, it is light on the science fiction aspect. In fact, it seems the science fiction aspect is merely a backdrop to study of the human condition. The meat of the novel is how the main character interacts with her peers, her elders and the outside world. It's about holding on to hope till the bitter end, and then resigning yourself to a fate beyond your control. It's about how society, whether it be the larger society or a small, isolated one, deals with things that are controversial. It's about how society reacts to given sets of morals. It's about a lot of things, way deep down.

On the surface, however, it's about the tedious life of a girl who grows up and does exactly what she's supposed to do. The few efforts Kathy makes to change don't work out, and the narrative, told in the first person as if she's having a conversation with the reader, reflects her resignation to her fate. In this way, it's depressing as well as tedious. The first third of the book is about Kathy's early childhood and adolescence. If it weren't for the hints of the "secret" science fiction aspect, it could have been the story of any girl attending a British prep school. The second section is an interim period before Kathy started her work as a "carer." Again, it could have been about a group of college friends on break, if it weren't for the ever present reason of their existence. In this section, the reader learns a bit more about the science fiction aspect of the story. Still, it's more like scenery than plot. The third and final section shows Kathy and her friends fulfilling their roles in society. This was when it finally started to get interesting for me.

The final section was when the reader finally gets the full picture, as do Kathy and Tommy. I don't think ethical questions were so much raised as their existence was acknowledged. Ishiguro doesn't offer opinion. He simply paints a picture of a society with questionable practices. Society creates these clones, but much like Dr. Frankenstein, is disgusted by their presence. They loathe them, but are not willing to lose the medical benefits their existence provides. Why does society despise the clones? Is it a matter of a violated conscience, that some moral or ethical law is being broken? Is it shame? There are some who feel the ethical violation is not so much playing god and cheating nature, but rather the treatment of the clones which are, after all, still human. Of course, they must prove the clones' humanity to make their point. Even these individuals, so concerned with the quality of the clones' lives, despise the very ones they wish to help. Still, they swallowed their bile, smiled, and taught the clones about art and poetry. It is easy to understand how one would deny the humanity of the clones in order to justify the lack of morality, but how does one continue to despise the clones while accepting that they are fully human? How is the pure hatred of a group of people justified morally? The clones themselves, do not seem to have any ethical or moral concerns, aside from their sense of duty. They never once think of shirking their duty, only at most hoping to postpone it for a couple years. They are confused and hurt when the loathing is perceived, but they do not seem to return the loathing.

Lastly, I would like to share a feeling I got towards the end of the book. The entire narrative, as I mentioned, was conversational. It was as if the reader was sitting with Kathy who was prattling on endlessly about her life. It was clearly assumed that the one on the listening end of this dialogue was acquainted with the circumstances of the society in which Kathy lives. This makes for a slow reveal of the aspects which differ from actual society. Ishiguro did an excellent job of revealing these tidbits in a way that was not forced. They flowed naturally from the narrative in a "matter of fact" way. Of course, you already know that we're clones and will be harvested for spare parts, so it's no surprise when I mention it in passing. Ishiguro seems to do this effortlessly and beautifully. It is actually a very difficult technique, and I was much impressed. The narrative style was convincing, and as the story was winding down I felt as if I was also a carer, or perhaps one of Kathy's last donors. Maybe she was keeping me company as I recovered from a donation, and told me her story to distract me or keep my mind off the fact that I was about to "complete." I felt drawn into the story, as if I was a character in this alternate universe. This is a haunting way to make the reading of this novel personal, to experience the story on some level and passively live a small piece of it.

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For another view on this novel, please check out my friend Jenni's review. (She's the one who recommended this novel to me.)
Bkwurm's Banquet of Books: Horror and Familiarity Go Hand-In-Hand: Review of Ishiguro's "Never Let Me Go"

Recently Read: "State of Wonder" & "Believing in Jesus: A Popular Overview of the Catholic Faith"

I finished reading "State of Wonder on March 16, 2012. I finished reading "Believing in Jesus" on April 10, 2012. Due to personal distractions and obligations, I have not had a chance to publish the reviews on my blog until now. My review on "State of Wonder" is rather short, as I didn't have much to say about it. Sorry.

State of Wonder by Ann Patchett
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This was a well written, interesting novel. It had me till the last two chapters, then it lost me. The ending left me unsatisfied and disappointed. The surprise twist did not resonate with me. I would have rather seen Marina run off with Milton than the way Patchett chose to close the story. I would have given it four stars if it weren't for the ending.



Believing in Jesus: A Popular Overview of the Catholic Faith by Leonard Foley
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

"The Tenth Commandment probes our mind and heart, where all sin begins, and forbids injustice in willful desire and intention. It forbids coveting what belongs to another, and rules out greed and avarice arising from an excessive desire for wealth and power (see Catechism, #2536)." Page 269

"We are to regard our lawful possessions not merely as our own, but also as common property in the sense that they can be of benefit also to others. All the children of God are obliged to come to the relief of the poor (see Catechism, #2443) Page 266

"What I may not do - in fact, cannot do - is judge the internal morality of anyone's actions but my own." Page 253

These are just a few examples of how aligned my personal values and beliefs are with the teachings of the Catholic Church. I do not see how a person can truly internalize these teachings of Jesus and still vote for individuals who wish to continue us down this horrible path and want things to go back the way they were before. After reading this book and being finally confirmed in the Catholic faith, I am more convinced than ever that Jesus was, indeed, a liberal.

I also would like to address the successful way that this book dealt with touchy subjects regarding Catholicism, especially how the faith is viewed and depicted by Protestants and other people outside the faith. Other faiths were not demonized at all, but the errors in perception were gently corrected. Especially beautiful is the chapter on Mary and how the Catholic community holds her in reverence (Chapter 26).

I am very glad my RCIA class assigned this book, as I probably would not have read it otherwise.


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Uncensor This

I've censored the following, in protest of a bill that gives any corporation and the US government the power to censor the internet--a bill that could pass THIS WEEK. To see the uncensored text, and to stop internet censorship, visit: http://americancensorship.org/posts/39693/uncensor
"If in █████ █████ the █████ and █████ and ██████████ of all █████ are ████████, we ████ ████████ our ███████ ████ to ████ ████ ████” FDR If the ████████ had ████ ████████ ████ he ████ █████ █████, I'm ████ Mr. █████████ █████ ████ ████████ it █████ █████, █████, and ██████████. “The ████ is ████ ██████████ ██████ ███████ its own ███████, for it ███████, in the end, the ████ of ███████ ████ is █████████ of ██████████ ████ ██████████.” █████ ██████ ████████

Peace on earth, good will toward men ... please?

“I'm inviting all my Facebook family and friends to join me in returning to the traditional greeting of "Merry Christmas" instead of the politically correct "Happy Holidays". If you agree with me, please re-post this message or hit like. Merry Christmas!”

I’ve been seeing this status all over Facebook since early November, and every time I groan a little. I am irked by the so-called “war on Christmas” for a very simple reason. If there was a war, Christmas won, hands down. Starting well before Halloween, Christmas is everywhere, from stores to television. There is no possible way to escape being exposed to Christmas in some fashion, regardless if you actually celebrate the holiday. It has not only overshadowed all other holidays celebrated in the month of December, it has taken over Thanksgiving a full month beforehand. In fact, it seems to have stretched out its tentacles to ensnare Halloween as well. What aspect of Christmas has such power? It’s the commercialization and subsequent greed, of course. My young son says “I want to buy that!” after nearly every commercial that airs during his favorite TV shows. Well before Halloween, we are bombarded with ads: Get a jump on the holidays. Do your Christmas shopping now and use our layaway plan. Now the entire month of November is simply a build-up, not to Thanksgiving, but to Black Friday and Cyber Monday (or rather Cyber Week as it has evidently become). Thanksgiving itself, which used to be a strong, proud day of celebrating not only our American strength and persistence but also expressing gratitude for the people and blessings in our lives, has become as battered and starved as those first pilgrims. Instead of a day of good food, family/friend togetherness and football, many choose to sit outside a store and wait for the doors to open so they can mace each other over the 4 xboxes in stock. But I digress. My point, wherever it has gone to, is that for two to three months, this country is all about Christmas.

So why do people claim that war has been declared against Christmas? Because, even though the term Christmas itself is used just as frequently, some people choose to use other terms interchangeably. But let me go off on a tangent before I address that.

I’m converting to Catholicism, and so I’m attending an RCIA class (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults). The first day, I was given a book, Believing in Jesus by Leonard Foley, O.F.M. It was approved, like all authoritative books on the Catholic faith, by the Vatican. In the very first chapter, I noticed that the author and editors chose to use BCE/CE to designate dates rather than BC/AD. This dating system, which stands for “Before Common Era/Common Era, was of course created as an nonreligious alternative to the long used “Before Christ”/”Anno Domini.” A third, less popular alternative I came across recently was to do away with letter designations altogether and simply use a + or – sign. So, 500 BC(BCE) becomes -500, and 1492 AD(BC) becomes +1492. As with most academics, the goal is less about politics and religion than it is about simply making it universally understood. I don’t wish to debate why one is better or worse than the other. In truth, it is merely a choice. A writer would be correct in using one or the other, although some fields or disciplines may prefer one to the other. Papers published in scientific journals, for instance, usually use BCE/BC. When reading books written by and for Christians, I have almost exclusively seen BC/AD. That’s what struck me as so remarkable about Believing in Jesus.

Why did the use of BCE/BC strike me as remarkable? Well, here was this book on the first Christian religion, willingly using terms specifically designed to replace Christ. I made the comment in my class that it impressed me that they didn’t make a fuss, like the Protestants did, who “see the switch to CE and BCE as just one more example of secularism and non-Christian religions being given precedence over Christianity.”  I expressed my observation that the Catholic Church does not appear to be threatened and chooses not to pick a fight over such a small thing. One of the teachers responded, “Well, of course the Church isn’t threatened! It’s been around for centuries. It isn’t going anywhere.” Of course, even the Protestants have made less a stink about date designations than on saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” Honestly, I think they might have picked the wrong battle.

Waronchristmas.com states: “‘Christmas’ became a dirty word, and was replaced by ‘holiday.’ The War on Christmas had begun.” The author of this site claims that “‘Christmas’ was everywhere during the month of December,” but not anymore. The funny thing is, I see Christmas everywhere, starting in October. I see trees, wreaths, Santas, etc. all over the stores. I see the word Christmas everywhere too, as well as the more generic word “holiday.” In fact, I’d wager that I see more words related to Christmas, (Santa, St. Nick, Rudolf, Reindeer, stocking, Nativity, etc.) than I do any other holiday celebrated in November and December. Yet, people still raise heck when a store chooses to use “Happy Holidays” in their advertising. I think the best response to the outrage was expressed by Best Buy, “We recognize that several holidays are celebrated during the months of November and December. Many people exchange gifts in celebration of one or more of these holidays. In order to be respectful of all our customers (and employees) who celebrate different holidays throughout the season, we are choosing to use ‘Happy Holidays’ as the primary greeting in our holiday campaign.” And that is, really, what it boils down to. Of course, this response is dismissed with the charge of being “politically correct,” which is evidently a bad thing.

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary (my new favorite website), “politically correct” first came to its current use in 1970. “[T]here is no doubt that political correctness refers to the political movement and phenomenon, which began in the USA, with the aim to enforce a set of ideologies and views on gender, race and other minorities. Political correctness refers to language and ideas that may cause offence to some identity groups like women and aims at giving preferential treatment to members of those social groups in schools and universities. [Thuy Nguyen, "Political Correctness in the English Language,"2007]” I do not believe using the term “Happy Holidays” falls into the category of political correctness. Its purpose is not to avoid offending non-Christians, but to simply not leave them out and respect the diversity in our society. Christmas is not the only holiday in the last two months of the year. And, I might point out, prior to the 1970s, the phrase was commonly used interchangeably with “Merry Christmas,” as was the seldom contested “Season’s Greetings.” It was a common way to wish someone not only an enjoyable Christmas, but also a handful of other holy days leading up to Jesus’ big day as well as New Year’s Day. ,I say “Happy Holidays” for two reasons: it’s all encompassing and it’s polite. I was raised to be respectful of others. It’s what Jesus would do.

This is not to say that the secularism of Christmas is not real. No one is denying that is an ongoing phenomenon. More than any other Christian holy day, with the exception of Halloween, Christmas has been infused with secular symbols and traditions, some dating back to the pagans. This is not a new development, however. The pagan practice of bringing an evergreen indoors dates back to a pagan tradition, and December 25^th might have very well been chosen due to it’s proximity to the Winter Solstice as a ploy to convert pagans. Our notion of Santa Claus seems to have been adopted from the Dutch legends of St. Nicholas, a Catholic bishop. In the Dutch legend, Sinterklaas traveled around and rewarded all the good children while his traveling companion Black Pete (an evil spirit/devil) punished the bad children. Somewhere along the line, we lost Black Pete due to his racist depiction of Moors. (For more info, please see links below.) Early settlers in Massachusetts actually banned Christmas for a spell claiming the celebrations went against the Bible. So yes, atheists and agnostics can celebrate a secular Christmas. There is a growing trend, however, of such individuals adopting a celebration of Winter Solstice, previously observed mainly by pagans and Wiccans, instead, but many of the same traditions adopted by Christians over the centuries (such as the tree, Yule log, gift giving, mistletoe, holiday cards, etc.) are still practiced.

One argument thrown at me recently was “There would be no ‘holiday season’ if it wasn’t for Christmas.” This promotes the notion that there is only one worthwhile holiday to acknowledge in December, Christmas. According to ReligiousTolerance.org, there are three main groups in the conflict of the winter holidays. Some Christians feel that “Happy Holidays” is too generic and that Christmas is exclusively the only holiday to be acknowledged in December. Non-Christians object to having their religious observances ignored, and a third group of people who don’t celebrate anything and resent being exposed to such intense religious “propaganda.” I would like to add a fourth group: Christians who celebrate Christmas but who feel that the Christian thing to do is respect all the other beliefs and non-beliefs that make our diverse society so interesting. I’m obviously including myself in this group. In the true spirit of Christmas, I extend well wishes to everyone this time of year. I respect their choices and beliefs, though they differ from mine, and acknowledge that Christmas isn’t the only game in town.

And what is so wrong with “holiday” anyway? According to OED, holiday is derived from “holy day.” Its earliest usage was referring to a religious festival or day of recreation. In the 1500s, those were one in the same. So if you feel it is a snub against religion, think again. When you wish someone “Happy Holidays,” you are wishing them a joyous celebration of whichever holy day they observe. I, for one, think that is a beautiful sentiment. And I am not alone in my opinion of the greeting. In a 2009 article published on The History News Network website, Edward T. O'Donnell, an associate professor of history at The College of the Holy Cross in Worcester, MA, praised the use of the phrase. “I must admit that the expression Happy Holidays once struck me as vapid and meaningless—essentially the December version of the all-time vapid and meaningless phrase of modern times, ‘Have a nice day.’ But all this War on Christmas hysteria in recent years has led me to a new and heartfelt appreciation for the expression, for I see that it embodies both a fundamental American value and, strange as it may sound, one of Christmas’s core religious ideals.” O’Donnell, a church going Christian, points out the particularly American virtue of “respect for each and every citizen’s right to their own religious beliefs (or non-beliefs).” He then goes on to state something I hadn’t previously considered. “The ‘Merry Christmas, or Else’ zealots are not preaching violence, but they are promoting a dangerous, unwelcome, and ultimately un-American form of religious intolerance. … Put simply, the charge that individuals and retailers who fail to say Merry Christmas is itself a very real assault on Christmas. After all, the holiday celebrates the birth of Jesus, an event the Bible tells us was hailed by a choir of angels singing, “Peace on Earth and goodwill toward men.” Raging against the inclusive, tolerant and ultimately harmless phrase, Happy Holidays, runs directly counter to this theme. Indeed, it’s like making war on Christmas.”

And here I just thought it was pointless and annoying.

Did “Happy Holidays” and “Season’s Greetings” come into use for the sole purpose of replacing “Merry Christmas”? Evidently not. It seems these phrases have been in use for quite some time, and were often used in conjunction with, not necessarily instead of, “Merry Christmas.” All this can be evidenced by these advertisements in the Los Angeles Times dating back to the late 1800s. According to Wikipedia, “Commercial use of the term ‘Happy Holidays’ to replace ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘Happy New Year’ dates back at least to the 1970s. Use of the term may have originated with the Irving Berlin song ‘Happy Holidays’ (released in 1942 and included in the film Holiday Inn).” The same article mentions the term inexplicably less offensive to Christmas revelers, “Season Greetings.” "‘Season's Greetings’ is a greeting more commonly used as a motto on winter season greeting cards, and in commercial advertisements, than as a spoken phrase. In addition to ‘Merry Christmas,’ Victorian Christmas cards bore a variety of salutations, including ‘Compliments of the Season’ and ‘Christmas Greetings.’ By the late 19th century, ‘With the Season's Greetings’ or simply ‘The Season's Greetings’ began appearing. By the 1920s it had been shortened to ‘Season's Greetings, and has been a greeting card fixture ever since.” True, there was a movement in the 1970s and 1980s to make things less offensive to minority groups who did not celebrate Christmas. Stores and government agencies were, and occasionally still are, called upon to include other holidays alongside Christmas. Some were picketed and boycotted. But the tides have turned. Now stores are boycotted and chastised for being too inclusive.

In an article written for Time Magazine in 2008 (and a repeat in 2009), Alex Altman addressed the “war on Christmas” with striking clarity. He points out that it was the Puritans who first sought to shut down Christmas. They actually banned it in Massachusetts from 1659 to 1681. Henry Ford accused the Jews of opposing Christmas. In the 1950s, the destruction of American Christmas tradition was evidently on the to-do list of the evil communists. The modern connotation of this “war” did not, however, originate on Fox News as I had initially thought. “Before it became part of mainstream conservative punditry, the leading proponent of the War on Christmas was a former magazine writer and editor named Peter Brimelow.” But it did logically wind up there, as it claims Christmas is being attacked by us nasty liberals. “Outrage over alleged restrictions against Christmas emblems imposed by stores like Wal-Mart and Sears led conservative mouthpieces like Sean Hannity and O'Reilly to take up the cause in earnest.” Altman concludes that the “war on Christmas” is a “backlash against a wave of political correctness that swept the U.S. in the late '90s, resulting in some strange new concessions to cultural sensitivity: cities insisting on calling the telltale conifers ‘holiday trees,’ efforts to ban the pleasantry ‘Merry Christmas’ and crackdowns on the use of holiday nativity scenes and other religious iconography. But to many, the War on Christmas is a hyperbolic construct that blows the problem out of proportion.” I strongly agree with that last sentence, and applaud the use of the word “hyperbolic.”

Indeed, it is blown out of proportion, but only on one side. This might have started with concessions to cultural sensitivity, but the opposing side in this “war” seems strangely quiet in 2011. There are many retail businesses that freely use “Merry Christmas” in signage and advertising, and no one seems to be in a mind to complain. However, every episode of “The O’Reilly Factor” in December features a segment on the “war on Christmas,” giving 15 minutes to individuals in a mall offended by a store’s “holiday tree.” There is a website solely devoted to pointing out the “anti-Christmas” stores so that followers of the doctrine know not to shop there. According to the American Family Association, stores are either “for,” “marginal” or “against” Christmas. The criteria for these classifications are incredibly bias, and does not allow for any respect of or goodwill toward others. “The ‘Merry Christmas, or Else’ zealots” are a determined lot, and they are organized to the point of over-kill.

I’ve been often chastised for using Xmas as shorthand for Christmas. A modern interpretation is that “xmas” replaces Christ with the x variable. But really, this abbreviation has nothing to do with algebra. Turning to my good friend the OED once more, Xmas is derived from “X'temmas, wherein the X is an abbreviation for Christ in Christmas, from first letter of Gk. Christos “‘Christ.’" This abbreviation was actually in common use by the 15^th Century, as Gutenberg’s printing press was less time consuming if one employed abbreviations.  As Snopes states, “it’s a very old artifact of a very different language,” but allows that some might still be offended by it. It can be used erroneously by those who either don’t know or care of its origin in attempts to secularize or “cross out” Christ to insult Christians. But knowing the truth behind the term turns the tables. The joke is on them.

Here’s another nibble of food for thought. If there is such a demand for keeping “Christ” in Christmas, why not take it one step further. Christmas is, after all, a combination of “Christ” and “mass.” So why not put “mass” back in to? There’s room in my RCIA class.

To quote John Lennon, “War is over, if you want it.” Do you really want to spend the entire month angrily countering a store clerk’s well intentioned “Happy Holidays” with an embittered “Merry Christmas”? Are you really going to shove all the cards that say “Season’s Greetings” in a drawer while proudly displaying the one’s wishing you a “Merry Christmas.” Wouldn’t you be happier and more at peace if you just accepted these greetings for what they are, warmest wishes for whichever holiday you happen to celebrate? Christmas is a time of hope, peace, love and goodwill. As the old Sunday school song goes, “They will know we are Christians by our love.” Does it really matter if Kohl’s and Macy’s have Christmas decorations or holiday decorations if you have your nativity scene proudly displayed in your living room? Does it really affect your faith if we acknowledge other beliefs and traditions? Does it really ruin your traditions and celebrations if someone else brings an evergreen inside and incorporates it into their festivities, calling it a Yule tree, holiday tree or Hanukkah bush? Answer these questions truthfully.

Most of the people I know celebrate Christmas, though quite a few disregard the religious aspects. I know a few Jews, Wiccans, atheists and agnostics who don’t celebrate Christmas but acknowledge its existence. They aren’t offended by you wishing them a “Merry Christmas,” but are simply asking for reciprocal respect. All anyone asks is that the “Christmas people” (as my Jewish cousin called them) acknowledge their holidays, whether it is Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, Winter Solstice, or even the generic cultural Christmas holiday. You don’t have to celebrate them, just admit that they exist and deserve to be acknowledged right along with Christmas. What’s so hard about that?

And if you happen to celebrate Festivus, consider this my "airing of grievances.”

Update (12/12/2011): My son was watching "Sid the Science Kid" this morning before school. It's one of his favorite shows, and one of mine as well. I knew it was incredibly educational, but I had no idea how open-minded it was. Evidently, Sid and his family celebrate three holidays in their house! Wow! My husband said that Sid must be really spoiled. I guess there's no "War on Christmas" in that house! View a clip here.

Further reading of the like-minded:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/11/28/war-on-christmas-walgreens_n_1116921.html

http://reason.com/archives/2004/12/28/what-happy-holidays

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/charity-sunshine-tillemann-dick/war-on-christmas_b_1100413.html

“The Origin of Xmas”:

http://www.crivoice.org/symbols/xmasorigin.html

Regarding Santa Claus:

http://www.the-north-pole.com/history/

http://www.religioustolerance.org/santa1.htm

http://www.arthuriana.co.uk/xmas/

http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/origin-of-santa/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Claus

Regarding Christmas/Yule/Holiday trees:

http://www.christmas-tree.com/where.html

Visit Santa Claus and drop him an email:

www.northpole.com

Life Lesson # 18

In this age of information overload, it is way too easy to believe that we are privileged to all the information available. We think we know everything about a proposed law or bill, a celebrity, a high profile court case, an organization, a sporting event or television competition, etc. In reality, we only know the amount of information that we are allowed to know. We only have the information we are given, and are not the ones in control of its distribution. It completely conceivable that we are less knowledgeable of world affairs than we were prior to the invention of the internet, cable television, computers, laptops, smart phones and tablets. We are not necessarily in possession of more truth, just because we are given more information. More often than not, that information is incomplete, misrepresented, or downright false. In other words, the distribution of propaganda has never been so efficient.

My God was hijacked - a series of haikus

The Crucifixion by Andrea di Bartolo

Ruled by pharisees
No room for differing thoughts
Smothered by Bibles

Love, grace and beauty
Seen in a child's smile
Betrayed by man's hate

God is merciful
What would Jesus do, you ask?
Love and accept all

Instead what is done
In His name will surely bring
The Apocolypse

Bring in the horsemen
Brand us all with 666
What right do we have?

Judge not lest you be.
No one's white robe is spotless
Still the gavel falls

I no longer hide,
But reclaim the Truth I know
We aren't all like that!

The Truth corrupted
Into grotesque monster created
In man's own image

Disfigured mutant -
Religion used as weapon
For power and greed

Misrepresented -
So much evil in disguise -
Christianity

My God was hijacked
By modern day pharisees
Crucified again.

Life Lesson # 15

Freedom of Speech: a person has the right to say anything no matter how stupid, hurtful or wildly inappropriate, and everyone else has the right to call them on it.

Nothing one says or does is without consequence.

In Defense of Smelly Books

While there are many other options available, many houses still have traditional stucco siding.

While metal patio furniture can be more durable and last longer with less maintenance, many people eat picnics on wooden furniture in their back yards.

While acrylic paint became widely available in the 1950s, many artists still use other mediums such as watercolor and oil.

Sculptors are constantly finding new materials to transform into works of art. Not one of these newfound mediums has been able to render time-tested mediums such as stone and bronze obsolete.

Movies and television have revolutionized the way we are entertained, but the stage is far from dying.

Plastic was invented in the late 1800s. Since then, it has been used in the production of almost everything we purchase and use. However, many children also still play with wooden toys.

When MTV debuted on August 1, 1981, it was widely speculated that it would replace radio. Hence the song “Video killed the Radio Star.” Not only is public radio alive and well, there’s satellite radio for those who want to pay a premium. There is also free radio available on the internet.

Where am I going with this? Here’s a video hint. [EDIT: Since originally posting this blog post, Youtube took down the video that I linked to because of copyright infringement. It was a scene from the television series "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" in which the librarian/watcher Rupert Giles has a conversation with Ms. Calendar regarding why he prefers books to computers. She asks him why computers bother him. He replies that it is the smell. She replies that computers don't smell. Giles says that is exactly the problem.

Giles ruminates on why books are better than computers: "Smell is the most powerful trigger to the memory there is. A certain flower or a whiff of smoke can bring up experiences long forgotten. Books smell... musty and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer is... it has no texture, no context. It's there and then it's gone. If it's to last, then the getting of knowledge should be tangible. It should be, um... smelly."

Preceding paragraph taken from: http://www.buffyguide.com/episodes/irobot.shtml#ixzz1NzXXVeP4

END OF EDIT]

Recently I engaged in an online discussion in which someone was insisting that print media, specifically books, was dead. Obsolete. Useless. Vastly inferior to electronic media (e-books) and should be done away with altogether. I took umbrage at this position.

I maintain that there is a place and a market for print books. E-books (and their accompanying devices) do not replace print books as much as compliment them. I see no reason why I must choose “Team Kindle” or “Team Gutenberg.” Both serve purposes and functions, and both have their drawbacks. While it is cool that a device can hold an insane number of titles, I would hardly feel comfortable reading it in the bathtub or while floating on a raft in the pool while on vacation. Paperbacks seem much more convenient in those instances, particularly because they could much more easily be salvaged if I should drop them. I would not want to toss the device in my pack and go hiking for fear of falling backwards against a boulder. Nor would I casually toss the device on a camp chair and take an impromptu stroll around a campground as the opportunity might lead a fellow camper to petty theft. The fragility and value of devices necessitates much more care than your average mass production print book. While reading could help pass the time when one is hospitalized, certain wards and facilities often ban the use of electronic devices as they tend to interfere with sensitive equipment. Even though a device is most practical to take on vacation than a bag of books, I can read my paper or hardback book during take off and landing. While I can pass along a book to a library, friend or online swap once I’m done with it, these options are limited with e-books. And also, how can I have an e-book autographed? Think of all the free time authors would have if they didn’t have to deal with those book signing tours.

On the other hand, space is an issue, as is the environmental impact of the production of the equivalent number of print books that a device can deliver for a fraction of the trouble. There is also the definite thrill of instant gratification. I can download an e-book immediately, whereas I have to either wait for delivery or drive somewhere to get a print book. Also, over time it is cheaper to go electronic, even when you factor in the cost of the device. And let’s face it, gadgets are cool. Technology that seemed like a faraway dream when my dad and I watched “Star Trek: The Next Generation” in 1987 are now readily available to the masses. Indeed, today’s technology makes that in the original “Star Trek” series strangely comical. Imagine if Kirk, Spock and Bones only needed to carry a single device instead of a separate communicator and tri-corder. Wow, that would have been something!

Hey, Steve Jobs! Over here! Yeah, any ETA on a transportation device? You can call it the iBeam.

As much as I love gadgets and technology, my life is strangely void of the newest advances. Economics have gotten in the way of my fun, which is not very uncommon these days. So I’m not in possession of an e-reader. But I know people who are. They love them. But they also still read print books. I don’t know anyone who has completely gone paperless, actually. Most people I know still reach for a pen and paper every now and then, even though the smart phone or tablet is just as handy. Also, there are many people in this world who do not have access to the technology that we tend to take for granted. There are kids in small villages in Africa who would treat a print book like gold . . . if they were to come across one.

Obviously, print is far from dead, and there is little chance it is going anywhere. SD cards and the like, on the other hand, will probably be obsolete in a couple years when some other wondrous thing is invented. Aside from relics in museums, there are no longer any readily available devices that can read punch cards. When was the last time you saw a PC with a floppy drive? Technology is forever changing and evolving. Digital media, formats and devices are continuously being replaced by upgraded versions and new inventions. As long as there are engineers and inventors, this will always be the case. Chances are my grandkids won’t have a device that will read the memory card currently in my cell phone, but if they have sight they can access the information in any print book.

I’m itching to buy a smart phone. On this subject, by the way, I am squarely on “Team Android.” When I do, you can bet I’m going to download an e-reader app. I am also going to continue to peruse used bookstores and visit the local library. When I’m done with a book, I’m going to pass it along. That is, unless I really want to hold onto it. My home will still have that wall of books. In fact those bookcases were the first real furniture purchase my husband and I made together. Technology will not be replacing print books any time soon. Hopefully it will always be around in some capacity. Reading on devices is fine most of the time, but every once in a while you should engage more than the sense of sight when you read. Reading can be tactile, engaging touch and smell as well as sight. Sometimes it’s not just about the words or even the information, but about the experience itself. I remember one time my husband and I were camping in Malibu. We had a modest fire going, beers in hand and the stars to gaze at. At a campsite further down, they had a roaring bonfire blazing behind them as they watched a DVD playing in the back of an SUV. Sometimes you just have to turn your devices off and live. Experience something that doesn’t require a battery. Just for a while. Then plug yourself back in. Just please, do me a favor. Don’t download “Walden” onto your Kindle. I couldn’t stand the irony.

 

Life Lesson #10

Bias is in the eye of the beholder.

Vonnegut & Stringer Rubbed Elbows with Deity

I’m a Kilgore Trout junkie. I was first exposed to its affects in high school. I read Cat’s Cradle sophomore year and was hooked. I had almost kicked the habit, till I read Slaughterhouse 5 for Dr. Schwartz’s class in college.

After that class, I asked Dr. Schwartz if he’d be my faculty advisor instead of the philosophy professor I had been assigned. I had nothing against that professor, but he wanted me to be practical and think of practical matters. During Frosh orientation, he had asked each of us what we wanted to be after graduation. I had it all figured out. I had been writing lousy poetry for a couple years and was one of the few incoming freshman with a declared major. I was there to study English so I could be a writer. He said, “That’s great. What do you plan to do for money?” Where the philosophy professor wanted me to think about my future, Dr. Schwartz allowed me to procrastinate for four years while I explored literature in ways completely inapplicable to any career goals. He was the type of English professor you find in novels and independent films: messy office, slightly disheveled appearance, leather satchel full of papers and paperbacks, the light in his office still on long past midnight. Maybe I’m romantizing my memories a bit. He was the type of professor who graded your papers based on the ideas you presented, not how many typos he could find. He engaged me to consider themes and find the author’s points of passion, while never actually betraying any of his own passions, beliefs or biases. In fact it wasn’t until two years ago, while talking at an alumni event, that I learned he was gay. Earlier that year, he had married his partner of 20 something years during the small window when California had legalized gay marriage. I liked Vonnegut before college. I read Vonnegut, but it wasn’t until Dr. Schwartz that I consumed his writing, actively participating in the experience.

I had promised myself when I graduated that I was going to read all of Vonnegut’s novels. While I have read the last few books he published before his death, I have yet to read all of the old dusty books I bought years ago at Bart’s Books in Ojai, CA. The funny thing about being hooked on Kilgore is that it takes a long time to work through your system. I think the last fix I had was A Man Without a Country in 2007. It took three years for me to feel the pangs of withdrawal. Vonnegut’s writing is like that. It sticks with you for a while, much like a most excellent dinner at your favorite restaurant. You may not get to go as often as you wish. When you do make it there, you savor every morsel and if you’re lucky, there are leftovers to devour later on.

I just finished the short Like Shaking Hands with God: A Conversation about Writing featuring Kurt Vonnegut & Lee Stringer. It is the transcript of a public discussion that took place in a bookstore in Manhattan in 1999. Vonnegut had most recently published Timequake, a book, by the way, of which I received two copies for my birthday. One was from my parents, the other from my future husband. Lee Stringer had published his first book entitled Grand Central Winter, a memoir of his life being homeless and writing for “Street News.” I’ve never read it, and honestly wouldn’t even have heard of him if it wasn’t for his relationship with Vonnegut. Vonnegut praised Stringer, comparing him to Jack London.

The 78 pages of Shaking Hands is an interesting read. There are many points where Stringer and Vonnegut debate each other in the good-hearted way that colleagues do. For instance, Vonnegut sees writing as a method of activism. “Anybody reading the book is bound to say: My God, something’s got to be done about this.” He saw Stringer’s story as a call to action. Stringer, however, dismisses Vonnegut’s idealistic optimism that people can affect change. He wrote Winter with the intent for the reader to determine their relationship with homelessness, not do something to help with the problem. “I don’t know if there’s anything to be done about it [homelessness] . . . except to find what your relationship is to it. . . . . Not to eliminate what offends our sense of what should be, or who we are. Just to find a relationship to it. . . . I mean, how as human beings do we relate to each other?” Even when Vonnegut asked Stringer if he would help a friend get off the street, Stringer replied that it was all he could do to help himself.

Overall, I found the transcript of two writers conversing on their craft to be inspiring, particularly thoughts put forth by Vonnegut. I freely admit my bias here. Here are some of my favorite quotes.

On the writing process:

Vonnegut: “If you have a hell of a lot on your mind, the language will arrive, the right words will arrive, the paragraphing will be right.”

Vonnegut in the novel Timequake:

“There is this: Attempted seductions with nothing but words on paper are so stuff for would-be-ink-stained Don Juans or Cleopatras! They don’t have to get a bankable actor or actress to commit to the project, and then a bankable director, and so on, and then raise millions and millions of buckareenies from manic-depressive experts on what most people want.”

Stringer: “I had a lot of fun trying to figure out how I was going to fill up these pages, and then, convinced that I’m not going to figure it out, bingo! Something happens. It’s like shaking hands with God. It’s really a great payoff for the hours you sit around wondering if you can do what you’re trying to do.”

Vonnegut: “But again, I’ve written a hell of a lot of crap. I’m glad I didn’t publish most of it. But there it was. I’d write for three or four hours, or all day, and ‘This is lousy.’”

Vonnegut: “Now we’re talking politics . . . . There was a time, if you were gay, you would cut out anything in the book that would give that away. Because gays were hated. And you don’t want the reader, no matter what a prick he or she may be, to hate you. . . . But that’s no longer a consideration.”

On writers and the reasons they do what they do:

Vonnegut: “And so I said in a piece in Harper’s, or a letter I wrote to Harper’s, about ‘the death of the novel’: People will continue to write novels, or maybe short stories, because they discover that they are treating their own neuroses. And I have said about the practice of the arts that practicing any art – be it painting, music, dance, literature, or whatever – is not a way to make money or become famous. It’s a way to make your soul grow. So you should do it anyway.”

“[Bill] Gates is saying, ‘Hey, don’t worry about making your soul grow. I’ll sell you a new program and, instead, let your computer grow year after year after year . . .’ – cheating people out of the experience of becoming.”

Vonnegut: “I just want to add that virtually every writer I know would rather be a musician.”

“Because music gives pleasure as we never can. Music is the most pleasurable and magical thing we can experience.”

Vonnegut: “Novelists do not envy each other, and if a writer succeeds, makes a lot of money, say, that makes all other writers happy.

So it’s a most agreeable field we’re in and I think, in a sense, we are veterans of the same battle and we know what the hell it was like. We’re not like Duke Wayne, who was never in a battle. We know what that fight was like and we respect each other for making it.

And anyone who has finished a book, whether the thing is any good or not, is a colleague of ours.”

On the reading audience:

Vonnegut: “Expecting a large number of people to be literate is like expecting everybody to play the French horn. It is extremely difficult”

(By “to be literate,” Vonnegut means to be able to read using their imagination to envision the story in their mind, to be players and produce a production, if you will, of the story for themselves. By this definition, I was not able to truly read Vonnegut until college.)

Vonnegut: “You cannot fool a reading audience!”

Vonnegut: “Partly it’s about how you hold an audience. Because they can leave.”

Vonnegut: “Nobody gives a fuck about you. They care about the book.”

On experiences of life:

Stringer: “What I’ve taken away is a certain brand of optimism. Even the bad stuff is an opportunity. There are possibilities there. In fact, I see more possibilities in adversity than in, say, lying on satin pillows.”

Vonnegut in the novel Timequake:

“We are here on Earth to fart around. Don’t let anybody tell you any different!”

Vonnegut: “Because some people are born musicians, some people are born chess players, or whatever. In school some people could run a lot faster than I could. I could write better than most people could. So, yes, I’m lucky.

Joe Heller and I recently confessed something which is shameful for writers to confess. We’d both had relatively happy childhoods, which is no way for a writer to begin.”

Vonnegut: [Regarding education] “I went to a good high school, and everything was noise after that.”

So now that I’ve had a small taste of the magic elixir that is Kilgore Trout, I need more. I can’t decide which to devour next, Player Piano or God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater. What exactly is Kilgore Trout, you say? You’ll have to read Vonnegut’s works to find out.

Vonnegut, Kurt, Lee Stringer, and Ross Klavan. Like Shaking Hands with God: a Conversation about Writing. New York: Seven Stories, 1999.

[Editor’s Note: With the exception of Cat’s Cradle, Slaughterhouse 5 and God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, the links attached to book titles will take you to a preview of each book on Google Books. If you enjoy the preview, I suggest purchasing the book, either electronically or in hard copy. I recommend hard copy because . . . well that’s a subject for another blog post. The links attached to Cat’s Cradle and Slaughterhouse 5 will take you to entries for the titles on vonnegutweb.com (This is a great site except for the fact that it was evidently abandoned in 2005 and lacks mention of both A Man Without a Country and Vonnegut’s death in April 2007. Otherwise it is a great source of information.), which include short passages and a synopsis taken from Gale Research. These two titles are not available on Google Books, or at least I could not find them. Interestingly enough, both titles are listed among books routinely challenged or banned each year.]