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.

Some Pretty Fly Art

About a week ago my brother Tim sent me some really funny pictures made by a brilliant artist named Flychelangelo. I thought I'd share them here--they're pretty funny. (if you click on the images they get bigger (and they're funnier when they're bigger))





Isn't that one so sweet? Mommy and baby (although different species...)






And on the topic of bugs, two days ago I was lying on my bed reading a book on my laptop. I had my head propped up against the headboard, the laptop on my stomach, and I was just reading away. While I was in this peaceful state I noticed that there was a spider between me and my screen. The spider was slowly letting itself down from the ceiling right onto my chest. It really caught me by surprise. I broke the web and the spider just hung there from my hand. I tried to carry the little guy to the window and throw him out but he started to climb up the web toward my hand. I didn't wanna get bit so I dropped the little guy and stepped on him. That's when I realized it wasn't a little guy... it was a little girl cause cause it was a black widow--male black widows can't exist cause widows are girls (are male black widows called "black widowers"?).

So, that was a pretty close one. What was even weirder was the next day I was sitting at my desk and another spider (in my imagination it's the mate of the one I killed (so this was the black widower)) skittered across my desk heading straight for me. I think it was bent on revenge. Luckily I saw him in time and took him out with a well placed karate chop. So, so far it's me: 2 spiders: 0. I'm just gonna have to be careful when I go to sleep...and I'm gonna need to buy some anti-venom.

p.s. I just had another spider attack me. I believe I might have a feud going on with these spiders now. This spider also died from a well placed karate chop. However, this spider was not a black widow. It looks as if they're recruiting outside help. It was a brown spider...perhaps they're outsourcing.

Oh, and this next picture is completely unrelated to anything else in this post, but I thought it was funny (someone just asked me who that's a picture of... Charles Darwin).

In-N-Out

I just wanted to make a post about how much I love In-N-Out...and how excited I am that they're opening one in Orem on the 19th.

I had heard news of the In-N-Out but I always felt like it was too far away. I didn't even know where they were building it. But last night I went on a date to go see a play at UVU, and as I was driving home I looked to my right and I saw a beautiful golden arrow: the beautiful arrow that says delicious taste at an affordable price is nearby...the beautiful golden arrow that says "you're home." I almost cried. I felt like I was instantly transported to California. I drove up to the restaurant to get the details. Unfortunately, I didn't see any information posted, but just being around the place, seeing the familiar architecture, the outdoor dining umbrellas, the stone cut tables...it felt so good.

I decided to break the place in so I took my date to the nearest drive through and we both got shakes. We then drove back to the In-N-Out and had our shakes under the familiar In-N-Out umbrellas. I can honestly claim for the rest of my life that I was one of the first two people to eat a shake at the In-N-Out in Orem. I don't know anyone else who can make that sort of claim about any In-N-Out. Normally people wait for the grand opening and everyone gets a shake at roughly the same time. But not this In-N-Out. From now on when people talk of this restaurant I can say "yeah, I was the first person to take a date there, I was the first person to have a shake there"...and any other variation of saying "neener neener neener I was there first." (Now, I realize that it wasn't an In-N-Out shake, but who cares? I still can make the claim and I plan on it.)

It was kinda funny, they had a security guard at the place that was watching it 24/7. When we went up to the tables he drove up to us and told us that we had to leave (I kinda figured we weren't supposed to be there cause the area was taped off). The man was kind of hard at first, but after I bore my testimony to him of how much I love In-N-Out...after I told him how I would never deface that beautiful building, after I told him what In-N-Out means to me, and what it represents from my childhood, he told us (almost teary eyed) that we could stay for as long as we wanted.

As we sat down to have our shakes some people drove up to see what was going on. At first I felt a little guilty cause I thought the people were coming to the In-N-Out because it looked like we were customers and the place was open. The security guard swooped on them to chase them away. However, they turned out to be the the In-N-Out employees sent to the area to open up the new location. They were excited to meet us and they invited us to the grand opening.

So, that's my In-N-Out story. I doubt I'll make it to the grand opening cause I hate big crowds...but I was there for the real grand opening. Cause when two people are brought together under the magic of that golden arrow to unhealthily consume exquisite tasting, but nevertheless body destroying calories... well, that's what In-N-Out is all about.

Goodbye Mr. Chill

I just want to share a picture of Mr. Chill before I have to destroy him. As you can see, time hasn't been kind to him and his inward rottenness has spread throughout his face, causing receding gums and sunken eyes. Fortunately, at the last minute I was able to perform surgery on him--now he's a cyborg. You can tell he's a cyborg because of the "vision augmenter"I installed in his left eye. Mr. Chill can now see through walls.


Fig. 1 Mr. Chill in cyborg mode featuring vision augmenter.

I wish I could share a picture of the girlfriend I carved for him at a ward function. Only problem is she's disappeared (she started to smell pretty fast cause she was already an old pumpkin when I carved her). I think Mr. Chill might have had something to do with her disappearance... perhaps one of my roommates was in collusion with Mr. Chill.

And a strange thing about her death, it has had a surprising effect on Mr. Chill. I still think Mr. Chill killed her, but even though he killed her, he misses her. Just the other day I walked past him and I heard him mourning his lady. He said something like "Death lies on her like an untimely frost. Upon the sweetest flower of all the field." I'm not sure why he was quoting Romeo and Juliet, but then again, Mr. Chill was always an evil, but very literate pumpkin.

Anyway, tonight I will throw Mr. Chill off a bridge in a cathartic manner. I already have the perfect bridge in mind.

It is fitting that so violent a life have an equally violent death. He was born to this world under the knife, and he will leave this world thrust to the ground, a pulpy mess under the unrelenting force of gravity. I will miss our little war. He was a noble opponent. Farewell pumpkin!

Hope you all have a great day (at least a better day than Mr. Chill's).

Twilight Writing Contest

Hey Everyone,
Today at church someone came up to me and handed me a flyer for a writing contest and recommended that I enter. It's a contest done through BYU. Here's what the flyer said:

***
This contest, inspired by the upcoming release of Stephenie Myer's second movie, "New Moon," is an opportunity for BYU students to test their writing mettle against the standard set by Ms. Meyer. Write us a paragraph of purple prose, emulating as closely as possible Meyer's overearnest style, though it does not necessarily have to come from the "Twilight" storyline. Winners will receive valuable prizes. Rules for the contest are as simple as baseball apparently is to vampires.
***

Isn't that just delightful? I love how they describe her writing as "over-earnest." Oh, and for those of you who are wondering what "purple prose" is, here is the Wikipedia entry:

"Purple prose is a term of literary criticism used to describe passages, or sometimes entire literary works, written in prose so overly extravagant, ornate, or flowery as to break the flow and draw attention to itself. Purple prose is sensually evocative beyond the requirements of its context."

I think that's a really cool description of Stephenie Myers.

So, I decided to participate in this. At first I wasn't even gonna try. Since the contest said to "test your writing mettle against the standard of Stephenie Myers" I was just gonna send in my shopping list...I figured that would meet or exceed the "standard" set in her novels, but then I realized I never go shopping--so I decided to create something original.

Anyway, the contest rules were really simple. You can submit 3 entries. Each entry has to be 100 words or less. And it's due by November 5th....but I didn't need till November 5th. I wrote my entries in under 10 minutes...all 3 of them.

So, now, without further ado...here are my 3 Stephenie Myers imitations. I decided to focus on the three things I noticed from the few pages of the book I read (I borrowed a copy from Rachel...and I felt dirty taking it home with me). They were:

A) How she always makes Bella sound self-conscious and inferior.

2) How she describes beauty in such abstract ways.

iii) How love is forbidden and closely associated with loss (see Petrarchan love themes if you're interested in this trope).

(and yes I did just number those A, 2, and iii...my brain is still turned off from writing the three passages...also, I think it's funny to number things wrong...but I digress...)

Okay here is entry 1. This entry focuses on theme A.

Britney entered the room. I am sitting quietly by myself. I look up to see her walking toward me. I try to hunch down so she won’t see me. Being around her makes my head swim. Near her, everything sounds bad once it leaves my mouth. As she walks up to my table my heart skips a beat. I try to look her in the eye but I feel so awkward, so clumsy. Being so close to her, to her beauty—a goddess in form and grace—I feel like un-worked clay sitting beside the Winged Victory of Samothrace.

(99 words, just under the wire)

Here is entry 2. This entry focuses on theme 2.

Her hair was like a dark river cascading down her back. Her eyes were like sapphires. When she smiled at me it was as welcome and as warm as sunlight after a cold and bitter winter. She put her hand on my arm and spoke to me in a voice that was too light, too pure—too beautiful. I wished I could hold that voice, cling to it, for as it faded, I felt as if heaven faded with it, as if the world was now less, for such beauty can only end in loss.

(95 words)

Here is entry 3. This entry focuses on theme iii.

I reached my hand out and caressed her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes. I could get lost in those eyes. I could die in those eyes. Leaning forward I gently kissed her, her lips so soft against mine, but strangely cold. As I pulled away I felt as if I was separating from my very soul. She put her hand on my shoulder and the world stopped. Right then I had a painful and unrelenting vision. I knew, with all the certainty of a shard of ice through my heart: I would never see her again.

(98 words).

Anyway, that's my attempt at writing like Stephenie Myers. It was kinda fun...and pretty easy. And here's a pro:tip. If you really want to enjoy the paragraphs, read them out loud (and dramatically)...it really brings out how silly they are.

Anyway, hope you all have a great day.

p.s. if I win this contest I get a free dinner and 2 tickets to see "New Moon." If anyone in the Provo area wants those tickets let me know. I certainly have no use for them.