Fear

Today's post is on fear (I started this post months ago but never got around to finishing it).

First I'm going to find the best definition for the word. Next, in typical sacrament talk fashion, I'm going to discuss that definition and its implications.

The OED defines fear as "The emotion of pain or uneasiness caused by the sense of impending danger, or by the prospect of some possible evil."

Now, evil is an often misunderstood term, most people think of evil as something moral, but the comprehensive sense of the word includes anything bad, ranging from adultery to tornadoes. However, since most people think of evil in a strictly moral sense, I think a better definition for fear (and the one I will use in this post) is "The emotion of pain or uneasiness caused by the sense of impending loss."

Anyway, does this definition work? Well, if someone is afraid to skydive they are afraid to lose their life, if someone is afraid of spiders they're afraid they might get bit and lose health. If some guy is afraid to ask a girl he can be afraid that she'll say "no" and he'll lose confidence, self-respect, or whatever.

Basically, at the heart of fear is the possibility of loss--in every example I can think of. Sometimes it's not direct. I don't think anyone says before a car hits them "ahhhhh I'm afraid to lose my ability to walk," but I think, underlying the more immediate sensation of danger (as is part of the OED definition) is the possibility of loss.

So, taking fear to be rooted in the possibility of loss what can we say about our own personal experiences with fear?

Well, first off, I think nearly everyone experiences fear...and if you don't there is something wrong with you...cause if you don't feel fear, that means you 1) have nothing to lose 2) don't value what you have to lose or 3) are crazy.

Different philosophers have discussed fear at great length. Socrates viewed fear as part of courage. He argued to Glaucon that if you don't feel fear you can't possibly be brave. One definition of bravery given in his dialogue with Glaucon was someone who knew what to be afraid of and what not to be afraid of.

Nearly all the philosopher's take on fear was that it was something that tempers us. Some say it makes morality possible (the fear of punishment) others say it makes it so we can survive together in groups (e.g. Hobbes who thought that fear of death led us to create government to protect us).

However, I think the best discussion of fear was Aristotle's. He said that fear is necessary, but it must be moderated...we can't remove fear from our lives, but we can learn to control it. As we properly respond to fear we develop a habit of strength, as we succumb to fear, we develop a habit of weakness. Good and bad habits of action are the essence of character (this is actually an interpretation of Aristotle more than a reference to him...but I digress).

Anyway, my main point is that fear isn't bad, it's just a recognition that you have the possibility to lose something you value. What makes fear bad is when it holds you back from doing the right thing, or it holds you back from taking an opportunity that could bless your life.

I think that's the big problem with fear...how it takes away opportunities, how it keeps you from getting the most out of life. But that's not necessarily fear causing the problem...it's responding poorly to fear that's causing the problem. And, like most things that can hurt you, if properly channeled, it can help you (as Aristotle said) temper your soul.

And really, this is what's important. Think about it. Virtue is made possible (or at the very least strengthened) by the sense of loss. For example, if someone gives a gift that costs them nothing most people don't think much of the gift...but compare that to the story of the widow's mite...she gave nearly everything and that made her gift greater than the offerings of all the wealthy men visiting the temple that day. Heroism is a similar thing. A hero's accomplishments are impressive when he kills a dragon or faces an army or something (often fatal endeavors)...if all a hero had to do was click a button to save someone's life we'd just say "yeah, of course, thanks for pressing the button, but don't expect me to name any of my kids after you or anything." It's the possibility of loss (or actual loss) that makes many actions praiseworthy.

Oh, and for a brief sidenote...the story of the widow's mite reminds me of a story from about 9 years ago...

When my brother was about 10 or so he somehow came upon 20 dollars...all the money he had in the world, and of course at this age the money was burning a hole in his pocket. He kept on thinking of all the things he could buy with the money. Whenever we were at a store he'd always point at something and then calculate how many of them he could buy with his small fortune. Anyway, one day I mentioned how I was a big fan of Pez candy. When I said this my little brother took note, and a few days later, when I came home from work, I found a huge bag of Pez sitting on my desk (it took me weeks to eat it all). He'd gone to the dollar store and spent his entire fortune to buy me candy. It was one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.

So, tying all this together...I think facing or experiencing loss makes or strengthens virtue, and because fear is the psychological pain brought on by the sense of impending loss, fear is closely tied with virtue...but to what extent I can't really say.

All I know is that some of the greatest things I've ever done were the result of me facing my fears, and some of the worst moments of my life have come from succumbing to my fears. When I went on a mission I was scared to death. I didn't know if I had a testimony, I didn't know if I had conviction, I didn't know if God even wanted me to go. When I got on that airplane my feet felt so heavy, it was one of the hardest things I've ever done...but I can't begin to describe how much that decision has blessed my life. Similarly, I think back on times when I've let fear overtake me...like when I didn't tell someone how I felt because I didn't want to get hurt, or the time when I was in guitar class in high school and a kid was getting teased for having bad acne and I didn't step in and defend him cause I was afraid to reprimand 4 seniors as a freshman (next year I broke out really bad and that was probably karma)....these were times that defined me as a person...for better or for worse, and these character defining moments were given weight (or more accurately, were made possible) by fear.

Anyway, that's about all I got to say on the subject. I wish I could offer some wise advice on how to conquer fears, but I don't think there aren't any quick fixes where fear is concerned. So, since I can't offer a solution, all I'm going to try to do is offer some perspective.

Here are two points that might offer some perspective:

1) When you're afraid you can at least be excited because you have something to lose. Only someone who values nothing can be free of fear, so by feeling fear, you can take heart that you have something of value (sorta convoluted logic I know).

2) If fear comes from a sense of impending loss, and fear prevents you from acting when you should (causing you to miss out on an opportunity or something i.e. experience loss) then succumbing to fear actually brings about loss (which is the cause of fear and the very thing you're trying to avoid). So, by succumbing to fear, in a weird way, you realize your fear.

So, while I can't present any solutions, I can at least say that, rationally, it is better to face your fears

(this is of course when your fear isn't reasonable (if you're afraid to go to Spain and participate in the running of the bulls I think you should listen to that fear))

than to succumb to them because running from your fears causes you to lose out on some of the sweetest experiences in life, and that is something to be afraid of.

Disneyland and Stuff

So, the last few days have been pretty crazy.

On Saturday we all went as a family and saw Avatar... a really impressive movie. The plot was pretty traditional...sorta an amalgamation of probably about 10 different other sci-fi films, but it was amazing to watch. The CGI was amazing, the interaction of the CGI with the live action characters was amazing, and the use of 3D was very amazing (imagine how empty this paragraph would be without the word amazing). This is a movie that you should probably see in theaters because it just won't be as amazing at home.

Today we went to Disneyland. It was pretty fun. Disneyland at Christmastime is just beautiful. They have fake snow at 10, fireworks at 9....decorations everywhere. The castle was covered in brilliant lights that somehow managed to look like real icicles. Really, Disneyland is the sweetest and most genuine experience money can buy.

Oh, and I almost forgot, the best part of Disneyland during Christmas is the haunted mansion. They do an amazing job there. They redo the entire ride so it looks like The Nightmare Before Christmas movie.

I'll post a few pictures from the Disneyland trip once I get them off my sister's camera.

And that brings me to now....so, here I am blogging about all the fun stuff from today and it made me realize that, although I love Disneyland, I'm sorta between phases in life now so I don't really get all I should out of the place....I guess I should probably explain that.

Disneyland really is the magic kingdom for kids, and it's vicariously the magic kingdom for adults (specifically parents). As you walk around the park you see little kids in awe reaching out to touch cartoon characters brought to life. You see little girls from every nationality you can imagine dressed up as little princesses...and you see little boys sporting their overalls as they swing lighsabers at their sisters (aka the princesses) (only 26 bucks for a glow in the dark stick...get on it)...but best of all is when you see kids, all tuckered out, just collapsed in their strollers enjoying a deep and contented nap (the best naps around too...brought on by the fatigue of too much excitement...too much fun for a day-- so much fun you gotta sleep to recover from it).

Anyway, as I go to Disneyland now, that's what I see. When I was younger I'd go to Disneyland to go on rides, to eat cherry sours... to explore as much of the place as I could. Now I just go to observe. It really is sweet to watch kids having fun, and parents having fun watching their kids have fun...the kids just buzz with excitement, and the parents glow with the love they have for them (and as they pick up on some of the excitement themselves as they see things the way their kids do).

So, really, Disneyland (even though it annoys me with its blatant commercialism) offers a much needed experience: it allows kids to be kids and it helps adults (as they see Disneyland again from the perspective of their kids) remember what it's like to be a kid...to remember what life was like before cynicism and a few hard knocks took the wind from their sails.

The sad thing (of which I'm becoming increasingly aware) is that I really don't fit into either of these two groups (I'm not a kid anymore and I'm certainly not a parent). So, although I have a blast at Disneyland, I'm not really in a stage of life where I maximize the fun I have there.

When I go to Disneyland now I just get all nostalgic and remember the past. The place is more of a hall of memories than an amusement park. I can associate a memory with nearly everything there. It's actually really enjoyable to do this (although contemplation is a bad fit at an amusement park). As I walk around Disneyland I remember being a kid and chasing Mickey cause I wanted to see how big his feet were. I remember dragging my feet with exhaustion as we're walking out of the park (and then feeling weightless as my dad (noticing my lollygagging) lifted me off the ground and put me on his shoulders), I remember saving up my allowance so I could buy the Star Wars models they sold in the Tomorrowland gift shop (never was able to save up the 21 dollars necessary for the Millennium Falcon)...I just remember great times as a kid.

And then I have memories from my teenage/young adult years. I remember going there for a cheap date (when you have friends that work there it's really easy to get in) and just running around the park (really, Disneyland would still be a great place to take a date, although, since I don't live here it's not a cheap date anymore).... I remember going there with my baseball team and running through the crowds as fast as we could to make sure we got on more rides than anyone else at the park that day.... I remember when it rained and the park would empty and and a few friends and I had the entire park to ourselves (we went on Space Mountain again and again (at least 4 times) while everyone else waited for the rain to clear).

Anyway, all I'm really saying is that, as you age, how you experience Disneyland changes. Originally Disneyland is about you, it's about having fun, seeing the sights and attractions...but as you age your perspective shifts and the fun of Disneyland comes from whom you're with....and I guess I'm in some weird middle area of this shift.

Oh well, it's still a fun place, and I'm I'll eventually I'll make the transition full swing and I'll be the guy with the kid on my shoulders telling his other son to stop hitting his sister with the claw from the toy shop...and that will be good times--Disneyland will be new again.

Well, better go. Hope you all have a great day.

Oh, and here are some pictures from the trip.

In front of It's a Small World

Sleeping Beauty's castle with Christmas bling

This is Water

Hey everyone,

So, I'm home right now. Things have been pretty great the last few days. The drive wasn't so bad cause I had the Munchkin with me. We sang songs, listened to phat tunes, and tried (and eventually gave up trying) to listen to Twilight.

When I got home Bean freaked out so much...it was really cute. She threw herself on the floor and made sounds almost like she was crying. Then she got so excited she started to sneeze.

My brothers came over and we sat around and talked for a while. I sometimes forget how good it is to talk to them.

I got to meet the Munchkin's boyfriend (he was over at our place to see her within an hour (he was really suffering the few days she was gone)). He seems like a really good guy. I can tell he's crazy about my sister and that he's trying his hardest to make her happy....so I'm cool with him. Maybe I should be more protective, but I've never been that sort of big brother; I really trust the Munchkin's judgment. Anyone she likes is cool with me.

Lately I've been thinking about a commencement speech given by David Foster Wallace. The speech was given in 2005 or 2006. A year or so ago some publisher took the speech and made a book out of it (probably to capitalize on the interest generated by his death). The book you can find the speech in is called This is Water.

Here is the full speech if you'd like to read it: This is Water (I really recommend reading it if you have the time, it's not that long really).

Anyway, the speech starts off with a story. The story goes like this:

"There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says "Morning, boys. How's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes "What the hell is water?"

He then goes on to say "the point of the fish story is merely that the most obvious important realities are often the ones that are hardest to see and talk about."

Wallace then argues that an education helps us to recognize the water. An education helps us to see new ways of viewing the world that we aren't naturally disposed to, and then it helps us to decide which ones have merit and which ones do not. As we do this we learn what is meaningful.

He then goes on to say (and this is just the last few paragraphs of the speech)

"This, I submit, is the freedom of a real education, of learning how to be well-adjusted. You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn't. You get to decide what to worship.

Because here's something else that's weird but true: in the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship--be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles--is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.

Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful, it's that they're unconscious. They are default settings.

They're the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that's what you're doing.

And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the centre of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talk about much in the great outside world of wanting and achieving.... The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.

That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.

I know that this stuff probably doesn't sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational the way a commencement speech is supposed to sound. What it is, as far as I can see, is the capital-T Truth, with a whole lot of rhetorical niceties stripped away. You are, of course, free to think of it whatever you wish. But please don't just dismiss it as just some finger-wagging Dr Laura sermon. None of this stuff is really about morality or religion or dogma or big fancy questions of life after death.

The capital-T Truth is about life BEFORE death.

It is about the real value of a real education, which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over:

"This is water."

"This is water."

Shared Blog Post

Hello everyone,
Well, first off here's the update. I didn't have to ostracize Munchkin because I was able to get out of doing my final. Woohoo! So, that was a good thing. Today we did lots of random things. We got some food, went to a guitar luthier, saw a movie and stuff.

Now, we're waiting for FHE to start (I would bail but I gotta go cause it's my calling).

So, as we wait, we're going to co-author a blog. We will each write 5 words and then pass it off to the other...let's see how this goes.

Hello, my name is Karynne / the previous statement was false / just kidding lol I am/ I apologize for Danny's lies/ by lies I mean truth./ I'm going to let this / end cause I'm really dumb / im in the game again/ oh hey, welcome back sister/ i am not dumb, jerk / I didn't write that--framed/ jiminy cricket disagrees quite passionately./ Who cares? He's a grasshopper/ when learning wisdom one is called grasshopper/ before wisdom, learn to count/ Crap, you noticed. My bad./ there are three kinds of/ people in this world, those/ who can count and those/ who can not. i can./.. count past 100, I'm smart/ my brother however can not/ count infinite sets very well./ simpler concepts escape his grasp/ (if grasping infinity is simple)/simpler as in addition problems./..like adding to his awesomeness./ or his already inflated ego./ (which is admittedly quite deserved)/excellent demonstration of his arrogance./(which I find totally justified)/Danny, therein lies your problem./

Okay, the game is over. I think all we accomplished was sounding like a schizophrenic. Oh well, have a great day.

Munchkin

A few weeks ago my dad told me to make sure I was home on the 11th. Since my dad is an honorable man I agreed. He said that a package would be delivered and that I'd really need to be there to receive it. I wasn't sure at first if he was sending something illegal (which would explain why he needed me to be there to receive it (cause one of my law abiding roommate might have been bothered by the contraband)). Or maybe he needed me to be there because the package contained so much awesomeness that I needed to be there for it, cause any moment without the package would be so inferior to a moment with the package that, by comparison, every moment without the package would be sad, deficient, and pointless.

Well, as I said, I decided to wait it up. Unfortunately the package didn't arrive during the day. I called my dad that night to check with him to see if he could get the routing number. He said "oh, dont' worry, it will probably still be delivered tonight." I told him "I doubt it, even if it's en route it will probably go to some local distribution center and be delivered tomorrow." He said "oh no, they are on holiday hours, it will get there."

I was doubtful but then he said "if it's not there in an hour give me a call."

So, I waited a bit, then I went into my room. I would like to say I started cleaning my room while I waited...but that would be a total lie. I really was just laying back and checking my email (from my last post you're probably aware that I do that frequently....perhaps obsessively). I called someone to see if they'd like to go shopping later cause I needed to buy a Christmas present for Sister#1 (aka Katie). Right after I hung up the phone my roommate yelled to me and said "hey Dan, come out really fast." I never really talk to this particular roommate (he's the guy the spider booby traps were set for a few posts ago) so I was surprised he asked me to come out. Once I came out the door I looked over and there was......The MUNCHKIN! She was the package my dad was talking about. Turns out she decided to fly our here and surprise me.

Now, I was really surprised but I guess I don't show surprise very well because I was told I just looked confused. But I was surprised. It was so great to see her. So, we're gonna drive back to California together.

The munchkin and I went to dinner and talked for a bit. Then, came back to my pad (that's cool college liingo for apartment) and watched funny youtube videos that I'd been collecting. As she left she asked me if I was surprised. She said "are you glad I'm here?" I said "Of course! why do you even need to ask? " She then said "well, you seemed more confused than surprised." And I said "That was my surprised face. I guess I'm not very expressive...but that's probably the same face you would have seen if a unicorn walked through my door."

So, we got the munchkin in Provo for the next few days. She needs to leave by the 15th cause she has work (and a flying squirrel she purchased should be arriving that day and she'd like to be there to greet the little guy). I guess I'll be leaving Provo sooner than expected. I was actually supposed to go on another one of those blind dates on Tuesday night so I guess I got a great excuse to get out of that one.

Oh, and other things we've done. We bought some hot chocolate and chocolate crackers and then bit off corners from the cookies and used them as straws...then the chocolate melts the cookie from the inside and you eat it and it melts in your mouth (and sometimes your hand). This is a really fun thing to do when it's cold. I really recommend it. The funny thing was the munchkin couldn't really do it right at first. But, she eventually got it.

We also walked around BYU. I showed her all the cool places (using the word cool liberally).

That's about it for last night. Today we woke up and then went to get French toast at Kneaders. It was really crazy there, very busy. But it was goode food. We went shopping for some Christmas presents...and then I had to go to a thing for school (I have finals and it's gonna be hard to get anything done with munchkin here...but it's not like I study anyway (although I do have to write 2 papers by Monday)).

It's been really great to have her here. Hopefully I'll be able to just write the papers sometime tonight when everyone else is asleep. It's not like I sleep all that much anyway.

Well, I better stop blogging. We must find something entertaining to do.

Cheerio.

I Have a Problem

Okay, I definitely have a problem. Early in my career as a student I put off writing papers because I was lazy. Now I put off papers cause I have to. Sounds crazy, but it's true.

I had a paper due this morning. I figured I better get a start on it yesterday (which is really early for me). So, I went to the Provo library and went to my little corner and started writing...or at least I tried to. As I sat there I realized that I hadn't checked my email in 3 minutes...so I did that. Then I noticed that I had missed a message from a friend...so I read that and responded. Then I realized that I still hadn't found the perfect ugly Christmas sweater...so I checked online for that.

I sat at the computer for at least an hour before I started thinking about what my paper would be on. When I finally tried to start writing....writer's block. I just couldn't get the sentences to fit together. Everything seemed horrible the moment I typed it.

So, I started to drift off. I listened to the guy behind me talk on the phone for a while (I guess he's trying to tap into his 401k early to pay for Christmas presents (priorities really out of whack)). I noticed that the lady in front of me had a broken arm so we talked about how she broke it for a while. I noticed how the lady next to me smelled really bad (she smelled like dirt, urine, and tree bark), I don't think she bathed very often. And then I went back to typing....but I still had writer's block.

As I started at my computer screen I noticed the temperature was 7 degrees. Oh no! that just won't do. If it's 7 degrees I gotta drink hot chocolate...so I drove home and made some hot chocolate. But of course my roommates were watching a movie (Stranger Than Fiction (which incidentally is on my top 10 movie list)), so I felt obliged to watch it with them.

When the movie was over it was about 8. I decided to drive to BYU and work there...just lock myself away and write. Unfortunately, I still had writer's block, so I decided to check my email 5 more times. No emails. Oh well, I'll write now....oh man, still have writer's block.

I decide that my problem is I must be tired so I decide to go to bed. Unfortunately it's about 1 in the morning, I haven't written a single sentence, and I now have a 10 page paper due the next morning (actually that morning) at 9:30. I go to bed anyway and set my alarm for 5. I wake up at 5 and then tell myself that I'd rather fail the class than leave my warm bed...so I sleep for another hour. At 6 I wake up and start writing...and then the same thing happened that happens every time I put a paper off till the last minute--the muse of writing just smacks me upside the head and I start putting out a paper like gangbusters.

I wrote all 10 pages of the paper by 8:00. I even had time to shower and all of that (which normally doesn't happen on a procrastinated paper morning).

Because of my wild success I got a little cocky and started taking my time...unfortunately I was destined to have printer problems. I ended up printing my paper off the BYU server. When I finally got the paper printed I sprinted to class to find out that no one was there. I guess the teacher had let everyone off early after collecting the papers. Luckily there was a kid in the class with his computer and I had him look up the professor's office#. I went to his office and talked to him for a while. After I had developed a good enough report to annoy him I handed him my paper. He accepted it for full credit. I talked with him a bit more and then walked out...feeling like a champ.

That's when I realized I have a serious problem. I can't write papers now unless I procrastinate. It has to be very close to the deadline, and when I get there all of the sudden I can focus, I stop caring about who likes what status on Facebook, I stop checking my email, checking the news...I just go off adrenaline (somehow my body turns adrenaline into some natural form of Ritalin), and I go to town

When I was young I procrastinated because I wanted to. Now I procrastinate because I have to. Oh woe is me. What a horrible problem to have. My problem must have gone undiagnosed for so long because I've never tried to write a paper so early (the day before it's due) before. Now that I have tried, I realize that I procrastinate by necessity, not choice.

I'm going to try to write a paper the day before it's due again, but I don't expect it will work very well.

I just wish the muse of writing wasn't such a finicky wench. Anyway, I hope everyone can sympathize with my horrible.....

[checks email ]

...disability. And I also hope everyone will stop....

[looks up the Wikipedia page for the Notre Dame cathedral]

...making fun of me for putting papers off.

I really do have a problem.

Ugly Christmas Sweaters

Hello everyone,

So, today I was set up on another blind date. This is the 5th one in two weeks. I'm not sure if I just have a pathetic "help me" look about me or something, but I've had a lot of girls come up to me and say "I think you'd really enjoy going on a date with my friend (insert name here)."

I've never really known what to make of girls setting you up on a blind date. Is that a compliment or an insult? I mean, in one way it's a compliment because she trusts you, and she thinks highly enough of you to set you up with a friend (if it is indeed a friend). On the other hand you gotta wonder why they want to set you up with someone else. I mean, if I met a girl I thought was worth dating, I wouldn't try to set her up with one of my friends...I'd try to date her myself. And if a guy tries to set you up with a girl, you gotta wonder the same thing. Why doesn't he want to date her?

The only time when it's a compliment is when the person setting you up is in a relationship or married. Then you understand why they don't want to date you (or date the person they're setting you up with if they're a guy) and all they're really saying is they think highly enough of you to set you up with a friend.

Anyway, blind dates are kinda like tracting on your mission: you never have much success but it's where all your good stories come from. To demonstrate this, here are some silly things that happened during last week's blind dates.

I went on one blind date that was a double. I didn't know either girl. My roommate John knew both of them. We paired off by height and I took the taller girl (she was taller than my roommate John (who I think liked the short girl anyway)). We went dancing and it was pretty fun. After dancing we went to get dinner. Now, one girl had to go to the bathroom, so of course both of them went. The weird thing was they were in there for at least 10 minutes.

I don't know what was going on in there. I think it might have been a mid-date conference or something. Both girls said they were having a lot of fun on the date quite a few times. It was as if they were saying this in surprise...like they expected the date to go bad or something. I'd never met them before (or even heard of them) so I don't know why their expectations seemed low. Maybe John said something to give them the impression it wouldn't be fun.

Anyway, they go off to the bathroom to confer and do whatever it is girls do in the bathroom for 10 minutes. I get bored really easily so I started decorating where my date sat. We went to In N Out so I first took a placemat and set it for her. Then I took her food off the tray and layed it out symmetrically. I put the drink on the right, burger in the middle, fries on the left to balance out the drink (looked sorta like the Mickey Mouse logo). Then I put those little ketchup cups in a pattern surrounding the placemat. This took me about 4 minutes and I had about 6 minutes to go so I kept on working. The next step was to make a ketchup tower. This is accomplished by putting down a ketchup cup, getting two french fried and placing them over the cup to make a platform, then putting another cup on top of the fries. Then more french fries and so on. I was able to make it to about 5 stories before the structure became unstable. Fortunately, about the time my tower began to fall apart the girls came back from their sabbatical and we could finally eat dinner.

As we talked a bit I found out that John's date was only 19. John is 30 so I found this pretty funny. I'm not sure why but I became curious about how many things from my childhood she'd completely missed. I found out the following:

The girl had never seen Star Wars.
She had never watched Goonies.
She had never seen Top Gun.
She didn't know the cartoons Dark Wing Duck, Duck Tales, Talespin, Rescue Rangers etc.
She had never heard of Guns N Roses.
She was too young to pay attention to the OJ trial.
She was in elementary school during the September 11 attacks (I was driving to a music theory class at the local college when it happened).

Basically, this girl is from a different generation. John is older than me so he really must have had age shock. Well, he probably knew this before the date cause he knew who the girls were. Maybe I was the only person shocked by this.

As I was on that date I realized that I frequently do silly things on dates when I'm not interested in the girl. Maybe I just do this cause I want to have fun and I'm not going to have fun because of the relationship between me and them...but for whatever reason, when I'm bored weird things happen. Here are some examples from other dates that happened last week.

On one of them the girl was trying to figure out whether to take a job in San Diego or stay in Utah. She spent a good portion of the date just working over that decision. Now, I'm not against talking about important things, but I really didn't know this girl and I really didn't want to play life coach. But, she kept on talking about it so I joined in. As I listened to more of the details I became interested in the decision.

The funny thing was how easily she changed her mind. I could list some positive things about one choice, make an argument for why it was a good idea and then she'd say "yeah, that's what I'm going to do...I'm certain." Then I'd get bored and switch to the other side and argue for the other view and she'd say "you know what, you're right, I should probably do the other thing." And then once that was done I took the other side....I kept doing this till I realized that she might be going crazy. So, I told her she probably shouldn't listen to anything I said on the matter cause it's totally her choice. She then asked what I would do, she said she'd do that. Now, I really didn't want that kind of responsibility on a blind date, so I deferred, but I did try to help her organize her thoughts and see the strengths of either choice. I guess it was nice to help someone, it just wasn't what I was expecting for that night. But, I guess it went well because she said it was the best advice she'd received (which is kinda weird). Anyway, this was a weird date because I became a career counselor (and a very contrary one at that).

On another blind date we went to an ice cream shop. When I was there I used a maneuver that Garett had taught me. What you do is this.... you drink your shake, but you make sure you get whipped cream on your nose. Then you pretend the whipped cream isn't there and try to have a serious conversation. If you can keep a straight face it's hilarious as you watch the girl's eyes constantly drop down to your nose. Some girls will tell you right out that you have something on your nose. Other girls make a brushing gesture to kind of hint that you should wipe your nose. Other girls straight up tell you. Some girls wait a few minutes and when they realize you're not going to catch on they tell you. Either way it's a pretty fun social experiment, but it should only be done when you really don't care how the date goes and you're just trying to pass the time.

Actually, having food on one's face reminds me of a classic scene in Better Off Dead. To watch the proper scene go into the video about 1 minute 55 seconds (it's a long clip so I don't recommend watching the entire thing).



Anyway, that's about it. The other two dates were relatively normal. On that note, I'm kind of getting sick of dating. I've been doing it for so long and I just don't really try anymore. I think maybe I'm just burnt out from doing a date a week for so long. In the last 4 years I have only met 3 girls I really enjoyed dating--that's really bad odds...that's a lot of dates I didn't want to be on. I really wish it wasn't so rare to find a girl I enjoy dating...it makes it so things fall apart with the girls I do like cause I just don't have any experience with caring. Also, it gives the girls I do like way too much power over me..that whole limited supply high demand thing.

Oh well, I guess things will pick up eventually. I've just had a bad run lately is all. I guess this is partly my fault because the there was one girl who things were going really well with, but I found a personality quirk that I just couldn't tolerate and jumped ship...maybe I'm too picky.

Well, I better stop typing. This is two posts in 2 days...I'm an animal. Oh, and the title of this post is cause I've decided to buy a some really ugly Christmas sweaters. I'm still shopping for the perfect one. I'm gonna wear them everywhere. If anyone knows where they can be purchased please let me know.

Hope you're all having a wonderful day and getting prepped for Christmas!

B.S.

Hello,

Today's post is on B.S. The major text I will use for reference is a short book called "On Bullshit," by Harry Frankfurt. Because of the sensibilities of some, for the remainder of this post I will use the acronym B.S. even when the text really says... B.S.

The first sentence of Frankfurt's book says, "One of the most salient features of our culture is the prevalence of B.S." That sentence sets the stage...now lets get to it.

One problem with B.S. is that no one really knows what it is. We take it for granted that it's everywhere, but we really don't analyze or define it. In Frankfurt's book he tries to do this--he tries to analyze B.S. and to come up with a theory that explains its function, use, and definition.

So let's begin by figuring out what B.S. is. Most people think of B.S. as lying, but that's not exactly true. Here's why:

When someone tells a lie, they know the truth..cause if they they didn't know the truth it wouldn't be a lie (it would just be a mistake or something). In order to lie, someone first needs to know the truth, then deliberately misrepresent it.

B.S. is something altogether different. B.S. is about conveying a certain impression of oneself. It's about presentation, not substance. Someone can even B.S. while telling the truth...what makes B.S B.S. is that, when you B.S. you don't care about the truth...when you B.S. all you care about is how others perceive you.

When guys sit around a BBQ and tell stories they usually B.S... When guys and girls talk to each other they usually B.S....And why?--because in these instances people are concerned more with appearing cool, polite, kind, smooth, witty,etc. rather than conveying the truth.

So with all of that said..here is a concise definition of B.S. : B.S. is speech unconcerned with truth intended to cultivate a desired impression in others.

So far I've only referenced harmless examples of B.S. With our new definition let's now look at how damaging B.S. can be...and lets start with B.S. in politics.

If you're watching politics you're watching B.S...a good politician (using the word "good" loosely here) is one that is well liked. Politicians are well liked when they don't take a stand...the less they say the less they'll offend. So, if a politician can say nothing, but seem like they're saying something they're happy. Because politicians want to look like they're saying something truthful and substantial, but they don't really care about saying anything truthful or substantial--politicians are full of B.S.

The question we must now ask now is which is worse...B.S. or lying? Most people say lying, Why? Probably because lies intentionally mislead people. I, however, disagree with this. I think B.S. is worse (and so does Frankfurt). B.S. is worse because, unlike lies, B.S. doesn't even acknowledge the existence of truth...in B.S. truth is irrelevant. This is a serious problem.

This is a serious problem because, as you consistently B.S. you begin to lose your grasp of the truth. In time you don't even know what's true anymore. A lie acknowledges the truth even as it contradicts it, but B.S. goes a step further and erodes one's consciousness of truth.

One question we probably should ask ourselves is why we all B.S. so much. Frankfurt argues that we B.S. so much because we feel obligated to appear knowledgeable in so many subjects. In work and school and everything else we're given difficult questions that we often don't know the answers to...so we B.S. to get by. When high demands are made of us...our B.S. rises to the occasion.

Anyway, that's about all I gotta say. I think B.S. is something we all need to work on...anyone who says otherwise is probably full of it.

Procrastinating/Sleep Talking/Kissing

Hey everyone,

So, I'm putting off writing a paper. I decided to see what was going on in blogland and I noticed that over 2000 people have visited my blog now (since July). Woohoo!

Here is a motivational poster about blogging...there is a lot of truth in it:




Thanks for reading (especially when my last few posts have been quite long...but on that topic I have recently set a hard cap on posts so, from now on, no post will ever go past 2,000 words... I mean, that last "Update" post was a bit ridiculous...it was over 2.9k words and it covered topics ranging from dinosaurs to Thanksgiving dinner...so, yeah, I'll do better)

Well, before I go I'm just gonna quickly write about talking in your sleep. My roommate John is a serious sleep-talker. It's pretty funny. He's not embarrassed about it so it's okay for me to post on this. Anyway, the night before last I was about to go to bed and this is what I heard....

"oh yeah take this!"

(Karate sounds (he went huyah, huyah )

Then he said:

"Ha! You will never defeat me."

Yeah, that really happened.

John has some other sleep-talking stories but I think I posted them before. If not, let me know and I'll dig them up. I started writing them down so I wouldn't forget them (when I fall asleep I usually forget what he says).

Oh, and here is something I've been thinking about lately: kissing.

Here's my problem. I'm trying to figure out how people use the word kiss. Here is what I got...

People say give a kiss: regular kissing

People say steal a kiss: a quick kiss, usually as you're leaving.

Blow a kiss: kiss hand and then blow it to the person.

Frog kiss: this one is classified.

Share a kiss: this one doesn't make much sense to me. Cause after a kiss you can say "I got a kiss, and they can say "I got a kiss" but if there was only one kiss, and you shared it, you really only walked away with half a kiss. I think it's more accurate to say "I got half a kiss," but oh well.

Anyway, these are the typical ways the word kiss is used. As you can see, almost all of these phrases assume that kisses are a transferable commodity--with substance and location. After all, you can share them, you can blow them off your hand, you can steal them....sounds transferable to me. So, with that in mind, I think we should all figure out new phrases to describe kissing using other terms that describe the re-allocation of goods.

For example:

Since we have "give a kiss" I think we need "take a kiss." This would probably be a very demanding kiss or a kiss that someone didn't want to give (strange that this has a more negative connotation than stealing).

Kiss on loan: this would probably be the: I'm not sure if I like the person yet, or if I feel enough to actually kiss them, but I'm going to kiss them now with the thought that later I'll feel like kissing them.

Barter a kiss: this one is horrible, but I think it happens more than we'd like to admit. I once knew a guy who said "with how much I spent on dinner she better kiss me." This statement I think captures the essence of barter kisses....and it's bothering my moral compass so I'm going to move on.

Kiss on layaway: You tell someone you'll give them a kiss when you see them again.....so I guess the person can come back into town and pick it up at their convenience.

Rent a kiss: I'm not sure what to do with this one. Maybe (and this is a stretch) we could make this one work by saying that when people rent they sometimes rent with an option to buy. So, to take that one step further, to rent a kiss is to get with someone, kiss them, but not fully commit...to keep your options open in case something better comes along. Yeah, that's all I got. I would appreciate some help on this one.

Negotiate a kiss: This one could happen when someone says something like "well, I didn't really plan anything for tonight, so, we could watch a movie, sit bored on the couch, watch youtube videos...or kiss. What? You don't want to kiss? Why not? We might as well. What are your concerns? What are you bringing to the table? Oh, I see, well, how about we just share a kiss...that's only half a kiss anyone so it's only half bad...."

Donate a kiss: This is probably when you feel bad for someone so you kiss them on the cheek or something.

Debt kiss: I owe you a kiss...this one actually could go on the regular list.

Refund a kiss: this one could be problematic. You kiss someone, they don't like it, so they ask for a refund, that means they have to return the kiss. Or, it could be someone kisses you, you don't like it, so you have to kiss them. Either way, a kiss refund leads toward you doing something you don't want to do. What will be really bad is when you break up with someone. If they want a full refund you could be busy for a while.

Save a kiss: I think this one would be when you don't kiss someone right away, but instead you save it, and put it in the bank to accrue interest. You then wait for the perfect moment...on top of the Eiffel tower or something, and then kiss them and enjoy the increased net worth together.

Recycle a kiss: This is when you kiss someone, you move on, kiss someone else, and then for whatever reason (perhaps loneliness), you regress back to the person you kissed before.

Okay, I'm going to get back to my paper. If you think of any new ones let me know.

Santa Claus

Today's topic is Santa Claus. For those of you reading this who believe in Santa, please stop reading. You may click here to leave.

Okay, now I'm dealing with the non-believers. Really what I want to talk about is the appropriateness of telling your kids that Santa is real. I've had a few friends who have told me that they'll never tell their kids Santa is real. They usually say something like "I won't ever tell my kids about Santa, I won't ever lie to them, besides, Santa detracts from the real meaning of Christmas blah blah blah I'm a self-righteous Christmas hater" (paraphrased).

So, those are the two contested points brought up by these Christmas haters. I'll now discuss both of them.

Lying to your kid:
Whether telling your kid Santa is real is a lie really depends on how you define "lie." I mean, every definition of lie includes the idea that 1) you have the truth and 2) you purposefully misdirect someone away from the truth. However, lying seems to have a more sinister connotation than these two premises. I think lying is considered bad because, usually, a lie is a misdirection from a known truth selfishly intended to advance the interests of the liar.

When parents tell their kids about Santa, they aren't trying to advance their interests, they're trying to create an experience for their child. There is no maliciousness in this, so, while it might be a lie, it is of a type that is harmless (and inspired by love). If there is such a thing as a good lie, this would be it. So, I think it's pretty unfair to lump parents lovingly telling their children about Santa under the term "lie," when that term is used to describe the real heavy hitting liars such as Nixon, Clinton, and that girl that gave you her phone number last Friday.

I believe lying for the benefit of another, while not a good thing, is a softer form of lie that deserves a better name. From henceforth I will call such lies "happy fun lies :)" (smiley face is included in the name). I also here assert that it is okay to tell happy fun lies :) to children.

Now, I've heard people say "well isn't there a breach of trust" won't the kid never trust you again etc. etc. Well, if your kid can't see why you would tell them a happy fun lie :) then they're probably pretty dense and not smart enough to figure out that Santa isn't real anyway--so I don't see that being a problem.

Okay, with that said lets talk about the people who say that Santa detracts from Jesus...

That's just goofy. Santa only detracts from Jesus if people misunderstand the relationship between Santa and Jesus. I've heard two extremes: there are the people who make Santa out to be some usurper trying to secularize Christmas and push Jesus out of the picture, and there are those who believe that nearly everything in the Santa Claus story is some symbol of Jesus. Of the second type, I once saw a lady get up in sacrament meeting and tearfully recount a story about someone consoling a crying Santa. The person in the story asks Santa why he is crying and Santa tells him,"because people are forgetting Jesus. Please tell the children the real meaning of Christmas." Then the depressed Santa in the story reappropriates every pagan Christmas symbol and re-invents them as Christian. This is too far into the second type--way too far.

I think Santa should be seen as the master of ceremonies for Christmas. Your kids should understand the reason we're celebrating Christmas is to recognize the birth of Jesus...and the person who tries to help us remember that is...you guessed it...Santa!

Now, I realize that many people might say "well if it's all about Christ, why do we even need Santa...doesn't that just complicate things?" And this is a good point. I agree that Santa Claus isn't necessary. I think he's like any other icon, he helps in remembering. The story of Santa is the story of a man who dedicates his entire life to giving to others. This should resonate with people and get them into the spirit of giving. In so doing, they feel charity, kindness, love, and all the other emotions that are synonymous with Christ. Santa should aid in understanding Christmas, not complicate Christmas. I think most of the people that feel that Santa complicates or detracts from the real meaning of Christmas feel that way because they're blurring the distinction between a symbol and its referent.

I hear mistakes in this sort of distinction all the time. Once I had a professor hold up the U.S. flag and the constitution of the United States. He said "which should I step on?" People became really bothered when he stepped on the flag but they really didn't seem to mind when he stepped on the constitution. He asked them "why doesn't it bother you when I step on the constitution but it does bother you when I step on the flag? Which is more important?" I was in this class with my brother. We both looked at each other and decided to leave. As we left the class the professor yelled at our backs "looks like some people can't handle tough discussions." My brother turned to him and said "if you can't see that the distinction you're making is unfair, you're not qualified to teach us anything." (The guy shouldn't have stood on a flag anyway...this guy was an Indian and this was a year after September 11, 2001)

As my brother and I walked away we discussed what that guy had done wrong. His mistake was this: he misunderstood the nature of symbols. It's ridiculous to argue which is more valuable... the flag or the constitution, because the flag represents the constitution. So, to argue for the greater value of either is nothing more than creating an imagined paradox by pitting the constitution against itself. The constitution has primacy over the flag, but because the constitution's value is abstract and only beautiful in the mind, we use the flag as a physical reminder of the ideals contained in the constitution. As we appreciate one we appreciate the other. So, what the flag is is a tool to help us remember the constitution.

Now back to Santa. What I mean to say is that Santa for many people is like the flag, and Christ is the constitution. Christ is everything, he's the reason for Christmas, and without him Christmas would be empty. But, Santa is the icon that we've used to reference Christmas. If we think of Santa Claus as a symbol we rally behind, as an idea used to do good to each other ("when you are in the service of your fellow beings you are only in the service of your God") then the Santa Claus myth is integrally connected with Christmas. Not because (as some say) the symbolism and tradition of Santa and Christmas directly reflects the teachings of Christ; but rather, because the way we behave in response to those symbols and traditions helps us to live in such a way that our lives reflect the teachings of Christ. This is the connection.

Here is just one example of that. Christ taught that giving without receiving a reward is the highest form of giving. In Matthew 6:3 he said "But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth". To aid in this Santa removes the giver from the immediate recognition of the receiver. In this way, the myth of Santa allows parents to give to their children in a truly Christian way...without receiving any credit at all (I actually used to think Santa was awesome and my parents were cheap).

Okay, now I better stop. But before I do I want to quickly say two things.

First, most of the people I know who don't want to tell their kids about Santa feel that way because they were themselves robbed of the experience. Sadly, these Santa-hater's parents never told them Santa was real...and because of this, they feel justified in robbing future generations. All I have to say to that is: just cause you were robbed doesn't justify you in robbing your children of the magic of Santa Claus.

To drive this point home I will now quickly share a Christmas memory that (for me) captures the magic of Santa (and also what parents rob their kids of if they don't tell them about Santa).

The memory I'm going to share is from the last Christmas I believed in Santa. We lived in Diamond Bar at the time. I remember sitting up in my bed listening for a sleigh on the roof. I actually thought I heard something that night (which is pretty ridiculous cause we had a very slanted roof with shingles. Santa would have destroyed our roof). Once I heard Santa I decided I could sleep because Santa had made it to my house safely...but I couldn't sleep cause I was too excited. So, I sat there and imagined what must be happening downstairs while I slowly drifted away...

The next morning I woke up very early and bolted down the stairs. As I rounded the stairway I looked at the tree, and I promise you, everything was sparkly. To this day I'm not sure if it was a trick of the light or if my parents threw glitter on everything...but everything under the tree was covered in magic. I ran as fast as I could toward the toys. One of the toys I got that year was an inflatable T-Rex. As I ran I veered and charged the T-Rex and brought him to the ground in a headlock laughing.

I was a pretty reflective kid..I remember putting down the can of whoop@#e I was delivering to the T-Rex for a second and pausing to think "this is a nearly perfect moment." Now I look back and have to say I was wrong-- that wasn't a nearly perfect moment, it was a perfect moment. And I don't think that moment would have been possible without the magic of Santa Claus. My belief in Santa tempered everything I experienced that day. Santa Claus was real and he had brought his magic into my home...I believed that so intensely that, somehow, everything under the tree sparkled like a vampire in sunlight. That was one of the sweetest memories of my childhood...and it wasn't cause of the toys, it was cause of how excited I was by the thought of how the toys got there.

Just a year later I was too old to believe in Santa. I still enjoyed Christmas, but it was a more reasoned and calculating enjoyment. I never felt that magic again. I wish I could somehow suspend my disbelief even now and believe in Santa just so I could have that feeling back. I guess I'll have to wait till I have my own kids to feel that again, and that's one of the things I look forward to most.

We only have a short window in our lives when we're old enough to get excited and anticipate things but young enough to believe that the world operates in fantastic ways. This is a precious time, and we need to take advantage of it. So, let kids believe in Santa Claus, they have the rest of their lives to deal with reality.

(sorry this post became longer than I expected...next one will be short I promise)

Update

Hey Everyone,

Okay, here is a little update on everything. But, before I get too far, here's another song that the Munchkin recorded. You can listen to it while you read :) The song is called Before He Cheats.

With that settled, I'll begin my update. First, here are a few things I've been thinking about lately (in no particular order).

Evolution:
Okay, lately I've been wondering how herbivores evolved into carnivores.

I mean, the first meat eater had to have been a total jerk. Think about it, you got happy herbivores everywhere, eating plants, living in peace and harmony and all that...basically, the earth was filled with a bunch of hippy dinsoaurs (or whatever they were before dinosaurs). And that was the way to do it to...cause everywhere you looked there was food just lying on the ground (tree stars!) waiting to be eaten.... and the plant food had the definite advantage of not trying to run away from you. So, why did animals start eating meat? I've really been trying to figure this one out.

I think it's possible that there was scarcity of plants so one guy said "hey, I can't eat plants cause there aren't any plants...so I'm gonna eat uncle Frank." Or maybe some creature ate another creature's plants and the second creature said "hey, you ate my plants, I will eat you then, and in so doing, by the law of transitivity, I will also eat my plants...after all if A eats B, and B eats C, then if A eats B, A eats C (where I'm A and my plants are C and B is the jerk of a friend that ate my dinner)" (I'm quite sure the pre-historic animal said it just that way).

Maybe there was just an animal that was a total jerk. He might have started eating his friends for the fun of it. But what would that thought process have been? I mean, that creature was doing something never done before. What made him look at another creature and think "food!"

Eating meat really is harder, and it's wasteful. It's harder because the food runs away from you, and it's wasteful because your food requires plant life to sustain it...and the amount of plant life your food requires is disproportionate (in over all calories) to the amount of meat you get killing it. It makes better sense to just go to the source and eat the plants. Besides, becoming a carnivore makes you dependent on herbivores (or weak carnivores). Why create a dependency if you're doing fine eating plants? And if you're doing fine eating plants...why evolve?

I realize that meat eaters create a balance in the ecosystem, and they're needed to keep certain groups in check...I just can't figure out how that necessary part of the system would evolve... cause one of the necessities of evolution (if it is in fact evolution instead of devolution) is that it benefits the creature evolving...that's how it works. Just because it's convenient for the eco-system to have carnivores doesn't mean carnivores will evolve. Evolution works by advancing the individual, and thereby advancing the eco-system, not the other way around. So, while having carnivores is a good thing, I don't see how that step in evolution would happen naturally.

So, how did this happen? As I see it, if we can't prove there is a benefit to the creature, then all we can say is that meat eaters are the descendants of some really sick and twisted hardcore herbivores. Or, if we can think of a reason, and meat eating is helpful, we need to write that reason down and tell PETA to shut up and stop sending us their videos.

Anyway, I'm sure biologists have an answer for all this. If you know what it is please let me know.

Well, enough of that, the next thing I've been wondering about is "what is the worst possible thing you can say to encourage small-talk on a date." I often wonder about things like this. I figure there are only so many wrong things you can say (eliminating redundant rephrases), so it's best to figure them all out. Hopefully, once I figure out everything I shouldn't say, I'll be able to start saying the things I should say. Fingers crossed. Anyway, here is (in my humble opinion) the worst thing you can possibly say on a date.

Actually, before I get too far I better clarify and say that what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the slight and innocuous open-ended questions guys always seem to ask on dates. You know the ones I'm talking about. Those questions that are sorta stupid but make people talk about themselves--the kind they always ask on dating shows. These questions are normally used because 1) you learn about the other person 2) most people like to talk about themselves 3) it's a subject the person is hopefully an expert on so you can't disagree about their answers and 4) it causes the person to loosen up.

Unfortunately (or more accurately, fortunately), I'm really bad at asking these questions (mostly because I feel they're pretty dumb). I mean, think about it...how many times have you been on a date where someone asked you something like "if you were an animal what animal would you be, and why?" or "if you could have any superpower what would it be, and why?" or "if you were starving in the desert with three of your friends, which factor would you use to determine who you would eat first to survive?" (okay, I made that last one up, you don't hear that one very often...hopefully.)

Okay, with that said you now know the scope of the question. Cause without that qualification the worst thing you could say on a date would probably be something like "I kidnapped your brother and he's in my trunk" or "I once killed a man just to watch him die."

So, without further ado...here is the worst thing you can ask a date to encourage smalltalk....

"What aspect of your appearance are you most self-conscious about."

Isn't that positively atrocious? This is the perfect horrible question. I think if scientists wanted to study the worst thing you could ever say in smalltalk, they'd come up with this. I mean, think about it. You're trying to make the person comfortable, and get them to open up, and you do this by drawing out the part of their appearance they feel worst about. To make this question even worse you need to agree with whatever they say...and make sure to get caught starting at that feature the rest of the date.

A close second to that first horrible question is this:

"What do you most hate talking about on a date...and please tell me why in excruciating detail."

Anyway, don't say those things. I realize that open ended questions are kinda lame. I've talked with girls that have told me some of the questions guys have asked them on dates. Every time I hear one a part of me dies inside. I then say to myself, "Why can't we do better? Why do we keep recycling this stuff? Why do we pretend that these silly questions are quirky, charming, and insightful?" We need to avoid generic questions and ask questions that are appropriate for the person we're with...this is much more honest and interesting.

Oh well, if you can think of more awkward open-ended questions, that you have either asked, or been asked, please post them in a comment.

And the last thing that has been on my mind is the political correctness of calling someone "retarded." I'm going to handle this topic by sharing a discussion I had with one of my roommates. Now, as you read this, please keep in mind that in this discussion I'm not really representing my views. I was just arguing the wrong side of the argument cause it was harder, more interesting, and I was annoyed with the self-righteousness of the guy on the right side of the argument.

So, here's what happened. I have a roommate who works with disabled kids. One of my roommates (roommate 2) called something retarded and the first roommate got all sanctimonious and said "please don't use that word, for some of us it is quite offensive." When roommate 2 heard this he got quiet and apologized. I decided to step in for him. This is how the conversation went....

Roommate 1: please don't use that word, for some of us it's quite offensive"

Me: why?

Roommate 1: because it has come to mean other things in society, negative things. So it's offensive to people who are disabled.

Me: oh, I see. You realize of course that the word retarded and functionally challenged, or disabled have the same original meaning. When you're using one of the new politically correct terms all you're doing is using more words to say the same thing.

Roommate 1: yeah, I know, but since the other word has come to mean something else it has become offensive.

Me: why don't you use it the right way and take the word back? I mean, it seems kinda wasteful to say "functionally challenged" when retarded is a simpler, faster, and an overall better word. If you think about how the word became bad, it was because there is a stigma placed on people who are disabled--that they're bad. When you don't want to use the word, you agree with them. It's because of people like you, who deep down agree that it is horrible to be disabled, that the word isn't used anymore. If you didn't agree with them, the word would have no power. So don't be such a hypocrite, call people "retarded" and show those kids you work with that there is nothing to be ashamed about...the word is only as strong as your prejudices.


Roommate 1: well, I've never really thought about it that way.

Me: well you should. Calling someone retarded is only bad if being retarded is bad. And I've heard you tell me how the kids you work with are amazing, and smart, and better than everyone else. If you really believe that then calling someone retarded should be a term of endearment. I mean, if you wanted to make the word "intelligent" an insult, how would you do it? Well, you'd have to start using the word in a negative way. You'd have to be mad at me or something, and clearly trying to insult me, and then say "you're a jerk and you're intelligent." At that point I'd say "thanks"...cause to me there is nothing wrong with being intelligent. You see, the reason "retarded" is considered a bad word is because of people like you who look down on retarded people.

At this point that first self-righteous roommate tried to show me that he wasn't a jerk by letting me know that he sometimes called people retarded when he was really mad. This is when I realized that my work was done and I went back to my room.

Of course, I agree that using the word retarded to describe someone is bad, and I totally took the wrong side in that argument (as I admitted before you read it). But you gotta admit that that first roommate was pretty self-righteous...and on top of that he scratched one of my CDs.

In other news my Thanksgiving was awesome. It was really great to spend the day in a family environment...and my friend Becca has a wonderful family. They were so nice! When I was there I felt like family (even better than how the Olive Garden does it).

The only really awkward part about the whole thing was right when I got there. I sat down and the dad said "we've heard a lot about you, Becca says you're the smartest person she knows." I didn't know how to respond to that, and I certainly didn't know how to live up to that. Luckily, by the end of the night the pressure was off...and they were probably thinking Becca needed to meet more people.

We had a wonderful turkey with all the other traditional Thanksgiving things...all of them prepared lovingly by the ladyfolk. Then they all sat down and ate. Afterward, all the guys did the cleaning. I was the official plate drier. Unfortunately, it takes less time to dry a plate than it does to wash it so I spent a great deal of time sitting with a towel in my hand waiting for something to do. But man, those were some nicely dried plates.

I got home from the Thanksgiving thing at around 11. When I got home I found out that John ended up doing nothing for Thanksgiving. I felt pretty horrible. Earlier I had asked him what he was going to do and he said he didn't know, but I didn't know that meant he'd do nothing. He seemed totally cool with the idea but I felt like a horrible roommate. I told him he should have said something, but he really seemed like he really didn't care. After all, he did have things to do--the world of Final Fantasy won't save itself. I offered him a bit of cheesecake to make things better, but I should probably do something more.

Well, this post is getting long. I hope you're all doing well and that you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

We're in the Christmas season!!!

Stream of Consciousness Writing (I didn't edit this at all so it's probably a mess)

This will be a relatively random post. I'm sitting in the Provo library and I'm really bored, and unable to focus, so I thought I'd post something.

It's really interesting the type of people that come into public libraries to use the computers. I'm sitting at the back of the library and all the people using the free computers to browse the internet have their backs to me. Unfortunately, I can usually see what they're looking at. There are a lot of creepy old men in Provo.

I've also seen some really bad moms. There was this one lady who uses the computers at the library to watch mexican soap operas. While she's doing this (she was here for over 2 hours) she had this cute little girl that was about 4 or so who wanted to play with her so bad. She kept on trying to talk to her mom but the mom was so engrossed in her soap operas that she didn't even notice. So, the kid just started wandering around. That kid was so bored. By the end she was banging her head (softly) against a column just to hear the sound it made.

For some reason, there are more mullets in the library than is average. I'm not sure if it's because the mullet is the hairdo of choice for lower income people, and most of the people here don't have much money (or they'd have their own computer) or if it's just something about libraries and mullets. Whatever the reason, I've seen some pretty sweet mullets here.

The spider infestation in my apartment is still pretty crazy. About 4 days ago I was brushing my teeth and I noticed 4 spiders in the bathroom in various places, some clinging to walls, others skittering across the counter. I decided I needed to catch them all. The first one I smacked down from the ceiling. He started to run away once he landed on the counter but I was able to use my roommates hair gel container (it's metal with a concave bottom) to imprison the little guy. There was another one trying to get into the bag John uses to hold all his toiletries. I knocked that one out and trapped him under a shaving cream canister. There was another one that was on the floor. I caught him and put him under the other thing of shaving cream. And the last one I put in a contact lens case.

So, I don't recommend that anyone move the objects in our bathroom. Last night I checked under the hair-gel container and the spider bolted so fast! So they're still alive. They're just waiting for someone foolish enough to break them free form their prisons...then they're out for blood. I don't know who's contact lens case it was, but that one will be really surprising because it will be hard to figure out how the spider was able to climb inside and then screw the lid over his head (believe me, the roommate who I think owns that contacts container won't be able to figure out that the spider had help...)

I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving. My friend Becca is in town and she said I could eat turkey with her family. It will be nice to be around a family on thanksgiving. I think we're even going to go to the zoo sometime this week. I haven't been to the zoo since I was a little kid. I'm sure I'll have a different perspective now but I'm also pretty sure taunting the monkeys will be as fun as it ever was.

John and I are going to go rock climbing sometime. He used to do it a lot and I have always been curious. I might be the greatest climber in Provo so it's important that I develop this skill. I know reading Tarzan books my whole childhood gives me an edge.

Things have been going much better lately. I have days that aren't so great, but for the most part I can tell I'm starting to heal up nicely. That might mean I'll blog less. I've noticed a positive correlation between overall life satisfaction and blogging. If you don't hear from me it's probably cause life is going well.

On that note my mission president once said that's the main difference between men and women. He said if you don't hear from a guy he's doing well, if you don't hear from a girl something is wrong. And conversely, if you're dealing with a guy and you don't say anything he assumes things are okay, but if you're dealing with a girl and you don't say something is okay, she assumes it's wrong (this is why you always have to compliment any change you notice on a girl).

Lately I've been working on a post I started about a year ago. One night Jason and I were walking home and we were talking about the different ways girls and guys view friendship. We started to discuss this issue as it is described in When Harry Met Sally (really that movie is the textbook for this discussion). I haven't been able to write anything substantial on the matter that I didn't think would alienate me from about 50 percent of the population...but I've been working on it steadily. When I'm done, I'm going to submit it to women's studies at BYU. I don't think it will get published...I only think it will be funny.

I've been fooling around with a new style of guitar playing. It's a lot like playing slap bass..but on the guitar. I saw Andy McKee do it and I thought I'd give it a try. The side of my thumb is sorta sore from all the playing...but the sound is cool. Most people don't realize what I'm doing , but I've learned to accept that most people don't appreciate what is going on when someone plays the guitar right. Oh well, to be gifted is to be misunderstood (kidding).

Well, I'm done writing. I better get back to....writing. Why am I still in school again?

Hope you're all doing super fabulous (in a straight way (but if not that's cool too)).

Funny Things That Were Said By a Person In the Last 24 Hours

I frequently see quotation walls in girl's apartments (hereafter referred to as QWs). Basically, these QWs are a collection of funny quotations on post it notes. The quotations usually come from funny things the girls have said to each other.

I've often wondered why guys don't also have QWs. After much contemplation my theory is this (and it's not very revolutionary): girls and guys just find different things funny...and the kinds of things girls think are funny are appropriate for a quotation wall...while the kinds of things guys think are funny just aren't.

Other reasons I've come up with for this strange phenomenon are:

1) guys just don't have the patience (and they're not organized enough) to collect the funny things that they say and put them on post-it notes.

2) Guys say funny things so often they don't see the point in documenting them.

3) The things guys think are funny should not be put on a wall (it would become evidence).

Anyway, back to my main theory...so now I'm sure you're thinking "well how do their senses of humor differ?" Well, I'm glad you asked! Here's the difference: girl's humor is extrinsic and guy's humor is intrinsic. Or in other words, girls think thing things are funny in the context of something else and guys thing things are funny for the thing itself.

This makes sense when you look at the different communication styles of men and women. In linguistics they say that men have vertical speech patterns while women have horizontal speech patterns...basically this just means that women try to feel included in the way they speak and men try to set themselves apart in how they speak (women tend to prefer the pronoun "we" while men prefer the pronoun "I") So, anyway, all I'm saying is that girl's humor is like their speech style, it is inclusive and tries to focus on outside factors (hence their jokes requiring a story)...while guy's humor is also like their speech style and stands alone (hence it doesn't require context to be funny).

So, guys don't have QWs cause the things they think are funny are quick and fast...too short to really document. While girl humor is based more on some huge scenario with tons of build up followed by a mediocre punchline. But that's not a problem for them because the punchline isn't the important part...the experience was. Girls love their QWs cause they can see a brief sentence on their wall and then be transported back to a pleasant time when they were all having a sleepover or something, and they were all sitting around and talking about whatever mysterious things girls talk about when they're together. While guys on the other hand, if they had a QW they'd just have a disjointed collection of funny statements...and if they read them they wouldn't have the cathartic experience women enjoy when they go back to the context of the punchline (which is, I think, the real reason women create QWs).

What evidence do I have for this theory? Well, all I got is that every time I've asked a girl why one of their quotations was funny they've told me some ridiculously long story (laughing the entire time) and then at the end of their story they've told me some strange punchline like "and then she said I have gummy bears up my nose!" Every time I've heard one of these anticlimactic punchlines I've made my "say what?" face...and then they've usually said something like "well, I guess you just had to have been there." So, for all you doubters of my theory...there's my evidence.

Well, now that I've shared my theory. I've decided to give everyone a rare glimpse into the dialogue of a guy's apartment. After all, it's not fair that all the things that girls say in the confines of their apartments are on their walls for the world to see (and occasionally mock), but the things that guys say remain behind closed doors.

So, here is a rare treat for you all. I hoe you appreciate what you're being offered (there are reasons why guys don't have QWs).

Now, if you intend to read on...if you feel you can handle this rare glimpse into a guy's apartment...please don't judge me harshly. This is the tough and gritty truth of what goes on in guy's apartments (or at least mine (but the dialogue in my apartment is probably not indicative of all (or even many) guy's apartments so I might not be offering you very much)).

Anyway, without further ado...here are some things that were said by a person in the last 24 hours.

side-note: I've included some things said by outside sources so that not all quotations can be traced back to my apartment (I can't be too careful, I need to protect the authors' privacy (and their social lives)).

1) Dude, you gotta strike while the iron is hot, cause if you don’t, when you finally get around to swinging that hammer ,the metal will be all cool and you’re gonna end up with a funky looking horseshoe…and I hope I don’t have to tell you this, but in this metaphor that funky looking horseshoe is your relationship.

2) I’m gay for myself.

3) Girls spend a lot of time analyzing, but they’re not very analytical. So they spend a lot of doing something they’re not very good at…which is probably why they do it in groups.

4) I have a natural and unconquerable aversion to that person.

5) Person 1: I practically gave that girl an instruction manual to my heart.
Person 2: When was the last time you met a girl that could follow an instruction manual?

6) Suicide is the most sincerest form of criticism that life gets.

7) Person 1: I think that someday I'd like to write jokes for candy rappers.
Person 2: Really? I didn't know you were into hip hop.
Person 1: Oh wow, didn't realize I used the wrong type of "rapper." Looks like I just fell pray to a homophone.

8) A man attacked his wife with a flashlight. Man charged with assault…flashlight charged with battery.

Once again, please don't judge the unknown authors of these quotations harshly. They are quite clever if I do say so myself.

Also, you might have noticed that many of these quotations made reference to women. I sincerely believe that guys are at their funniest when girls are involved (either for subject matter or just to give the guys a reason to be funny (after all word on the streets is girls find funny guys attractive (although this has yet to be verified in my own experience (but maybe I'm not that funny)))).

If you want to take a shot at guessing who said what feel free to do so in a comment.

Anyway, hope you're all doing well.

Movie Reviews

Due to my close attachment to many Twilight fans, I am aware that the sequel to the original film has a midnight showing tonight. In honor of this event, I am going to post a few of this film's best reviews. Enjoy!

"A juvenile, overly dramatic love story that takes the Romeo and Juliet theme, duct tapes it around a giant, cartoonish hammer, and slams it into your head for 130 minutes."

"It’s slow and not particularly fulfilling -- a half-an-hour or so of drama stretched out for about two. "

"The most surprising thing about New Moon, the second film in the Twilight series, is how much worse it is than the first."

'Parents: If I can (poorly) discipline a 16-year-old cat to not howl before sunrise, you can teach your kids to not emulate Bella Swan."

"Never has a man's shirtlessness been so essential to a character's development."

"Considering Lautner's acting improved so much sans shirt, I wonder if there might have been Oscar buzz had he taken off his pants"

"Watching Twilight Saga: New Moon is a bit like having your own real-life sulky teenager living under your roof . . ."

"Extreme moping by hollow actors makes the film feel like it stars robots stuck on their 'Emo' setting."

"Bella Cullen. Mrs. Edward Cullen. Mr. and Mrs. Edward Cullen. Ms. Bella Cullen. Mrs. Jacob Black. Jacob and Bella Black. Mrs. Bella Black. Ms. Bella Swan Black. Mrs. Bella Swan Cullen."

(I had to have this last one explained to me. As it turns out, women often think of what their name would sound like if they married the person they like/love. So they write out their name or say it out loud combined with the surname of their paramour. Sounds strange, but I'm not going to call my friend a liar.)

*****

So, for all you off to see it...Enjoy! And guys, if you are dragged kicking and screaming to see this movie you might want to take a Tamoxifen pill before you go (it's an estrogen blocker*).

*it is relatively safe for men to take estrogen blockers. Men produce about 1/10 the estrogen pre-menopausal women produce. Think how manly you'll be when you get rid of that estrogen. Also, by my calculations, on this pill you'll be about 1/10th better at parallel parking, getting ready fast, and formal logic (just kidding....sorta).

Happy Birthday Dad! (Updated Version: Emotions Included!)

Happy Birthday Dad!!!

Today is Dad Campbell's 58th birthday! That's the oldest he's ever been so we really need to applaud his accomplishment.

Here are some statistics just to give you all an idea of what he's done...

58 years is 21,185 days

58 years is 30,506,400 minutes

58 years is 508,440 hours

58 years is 3,026 weeks

And now since my dad loves math. Here is his birthday in different number bases.

58 years in base 4 is 322 years old

58 years in base 6 is 134 years old

58 years in base 8 is 72 years old

and now to be kind, 58 years in base 14 is only 42 years old.

So happy 42nd birthday in base 14 dad!

Okay, I better get back to reading...now I'm just procrastinating.

Thanks for everything Dad. I love you.

p.s. thanks for helping to make me. Depending on how you figure it I either owe you 50 percent credit for my being here...or I could owe you about 0.01526 percent credit* for being here.


*That second number is derived by assuming (incorrectly I'm sure) an exact 9 month pregnancy starting in September and ending in June (6,552 hours), and also assuming (completely arbitrarily and for ease in math) that you contributed 1 hour to my conception. That means you contributed 1 hour and mom contributed 6,553. One hour is 0.01526 percent of 6,553 hours. So, in the end, calculating credit for my being here in terms of time spent creating me, you get 0.01526 % credit for me being here and Mom gets 99.98474% credit for my being here. No wonder Mother's day gets way more airplay :)

p.p.s. I feel like I sorta missed the point of recognizing my dad's birthday...so I'm gonna fix that now. Perhaps a blog isn't the best place to write this, but everyone should know how great my dad is so I'm gonna post anyway...

What I wrote above was a fun exercise (numbers are fun!), but I am very certain that numbers are powerless to relate what you mean to me, dad. Although the time you spent in my conception wasn't very impressive, the time you've spent subsequently on my development has been very impressive--and beyond what any son has a right to expect. The person I am today (for better or for worse) is so closely interwoven with your consistent, strong, and loving interest that I doubt it's possible to measure or verbalize the effect you've had on my life. But where math and words fail, I'll just rely on the tried and true method everyone else uses to express this sort of thing: I love you Dad!

Disco Skating

Hey All,

Well, tonight I'm just gonna say what a cool night I had. First off we had stake conference and it was surprisingly good. Not only were two of the speakers good, but I also was able to sit down for a while and write out some ideas I've been working on regarding doubt and faith. I'll probably post those sometime in the future.

After conference a bunch of friends and I got dressed up like people from the 70s ( I ended up in bell-bottoms (sorta tight)) and a shirt with pearl buttons that looked like it belonged on a circa 70s pimp) and then we went skating at a place called "Classic Skating" in Orem. It was really fun. Lots of hijinks.

I have always enjoyed skating, but I've never really enjoyed dancing while skating...but tonight I found out that disco works for me...so I'm all about disco skating. There was a really cool black guy there who had a lot of soul, and he took me under his wing and taught me some fat dance moves. He said I moved pretty well for a white guy. I guess all along I just didn't know my style of music :)

So, he taught me how to dance to "The Carwash" and many other disco tunes that we all know and love. Now I can dance like a black man and I've never been so proud. I will have to return soon.

I also developed a cool maneuver. I have a friend who's 6'5" and he's tall enough for me to come up really fast behind him and baseball slide between his legs and land on my blades without breaking stride. It's a pretty cool move and I'm quite proud of it (I better be careful , this is starting to turn into a bragging post).

Oh, and one funny thing I noticed was that there was this guy there with a huge black afro who had an interesting way of meeting girls. This guy was a really good skater, but every time he got near a girl he got all awkward and forgot how to skate. After a while I noticed he only became awkward near a pretty girl. What this little innovator was doing was skating by girls, becoming awkward, accidentally running into them, then he'd hold their hand so they wouldn't fall, he would laugh and say "oops" and then he'd strike up a conversation. Pretty sneaky. I tried it out once (for science) and it actually works really well. I don't think it's ethical, and I doubt I'll ever do it again, but it's effective. When I tried out the little maneuver my friend Wills saw it, knew what I was doing, and shook his head in mock disapproval. So, if there are any unethical guys out there reading this blog who want an easy way of meeting girls, you can give that a try--and you can thank the creative genius with the black afro.

And finally, the last cool thing was I ran into an old friend. It was really great to see her again. We developed some cool couple moves. It's kinda like figure skating--but for straight people.

So, all in all it was a wonderful night. I think I'll make disco-skate-dancing a more regular activity.

Hope everyone is doing well!

Song

Hey Everyone,
I just got an email from my dad. As it turns out, the Munchkin (née Karynne) has written her first song. It's called "Don't Turn Back." Munchkin did all the singing/songwriting, and Dad played the instruments and did the recording (and there's a good chance he had a hand in all the arranging). Anyway, without further ado...here's the song:

Don't Turn Back

Since this is her first song, she could really use some feedback. I have provided a questionnaire to that end:

Quizzes by Quibblo.com

Thanks for helping out!

Hope everyone has a super-duper day! (Friday the 13th)

p.s. I just spoke with my roommate John who does a lot of work in psychology making questionnaires and all that to test crazy people. He just informed me that my quiz isn't long enough to give a proper sampling. So, sorry...it's not a very scientific questionnaire. However, since it's short, everyone should fill it out. It's anonymous (all we can do is see how many people take it) so you won't have to face Munchkin's wrath if you click anything mean.