Dating while Christian
by V.E. on April 23rd, 2010
filed under ppp, spirituality
Tomorrow, I’m hosting a wedding shower for a childhood friend of mine. Actually, we haven’t spoken in a long time, but she’s getting married and it was my shower or nothing, so we’ve reconnected. It’s actually a lot more complicated than that, but the complications aren’t the point of this post.
She works for a group that advances the Christian faith on college campuses in the United States, so she pretty much wears her faith on her sleeve. Her upcoming wedding got me thinking: what’s it like, facing the dating world as a Christian? Are there any christian dating services that might help out a faithful believer? I was raised as a Protestant Christian, but I’ve pretty much abandoned its tenants, so I really am interested. I remember the saying, “A woman’s heart must be so lost in God that a man must seek Him to find her.” And, at the core of it, I think that’s true for Christians, though I think it should go both ways.
I hope to be able to talk to my friend more about this tomorrow. What do you think? Seriously, I want to start a discussion about this.
Earth Day 2010
by V.E. on April 22nd, 2010
filed under politics, thoughts
I’m celebrating Earth Day this year by doing homework and preparing for a meeting I have tomorrow with my poetry professor. And probably not showering, ostensibly to save water, but really just because I’m lazy and this is an excuse not to shower. (Hah—as if I really need an excuse for that.) That is, I’m not really celebrating. To those of you who care about the Earth, consider making changes everyday to make that obvious, instead of just signing up for an event or campaign worth one day of your time.
I care about the Earth because without it, there would be no life, even in the most basic sense of the word (assuming, of course, that there’s no life anywhere else in the universe, which, personally, I find unlikely just for the sheer size of the universe and possibilities it contains). That said, I don’t think we’re giving the Earth enough credit. We’re ruining what we know of it, sure, but it bounces back pretty easily when we leave it alone. That is, if we were wiped off the face of the planet, it wouldn’t be the planet crying huge tears of sorrow for our loss. It would be whatever was left of us.
I had a friend in college who couldn’t wait for the (Zombie) Apocalypse so that he could go out and use his KA-BAR and the skills he learned tying knots with ropes (or whatever) in Boy Scouts as an Eagle Scout. Seriously, he was chomping at the bit for the world as we know it to end so he could go out into wilderness and “live off the land”… (I sure can pick ‘em, right?) My question was, “Why don’t you just do that now, if you’re so raring to go?” Anyway, that hasn’t happened as yet, and he now works for Stantec as a “Geologic Project Specialist” (whatever the hell that is). 
(As a side note, he and I are no longer friends after an altercation in December 2006—though we are still Facebook friends, which shows you how lax my idea of a “Facebook friend” is. Anyway, I’ll write about that some other time.)
Later, another friend’s father said something that’s stuck with me. The man said something like (I’m quoting from memory, here, so it’s not exact), “We don’t give people enough credit, either. If the world ended, most people would die—including me, probably. But the people who were left would stick it out until the very last. Humans are nothing if not survivors when they’re faced with the worst of times.” I agree with that. I probably wouldn’t survive, either, as I have no real (Zombie) plan should the world come to an end, and I live in a highly populated area, so I’m more likely to be bombed or catch the disease immediately and die before the struggle really even begins. I’m okay with that (unless the dying takes a long time and is painful because I’m a wimp—just shoot me and be done with it, you know?).
I believe the Earth would do just fine without us, and if we screw it up so bad that we can’t even live here without mutating, then it’s our own damn fault. Still, if we grow extra limbs of something because we screwed up the Earth and don’t die off because of our mutations, then we’ll probably be just fine, too. At least, what’s left of us.
The Time Machine (1960)
by V.E. on April 19th, 2010
filed under entertainment, recap/review
George in The Time Machine
I just got through watching The Time Machine (wiki) with my family last night. My dad got this “sci-fi classics” DVD set for Christmas and we’ve been going through it at about one every couple of weeks. (We also watched Forbidden Planet and Soylent Green, the latter of which I did not review for this site.) This movie is based on the H.G. Wells’ novel of the same name about a man in Victorian England (named George in the movie) who builds a time machine and travels to the future, where he meets a woman named Weena and learns that humankind has divided into two “warring” species, Eloi and Morlock. (I use quotation marks for warring because the two species aren’t really warring; they’re just… interacting in the only way they’ve ever known how.)
The Rundown
The movie begins and ends on January 5, 1900, with Filby, one of the main character’s friends. He seems to be the most open-minded of the four friends who are regaled of George’s tales of the future, and the only one who even slightly believes him. First, on December 31, 1899, George shows the friends a working model of what he calls a “time machine” and, with them as witnesses, proceeds to turn it on and press the lever forward to the future. When the time machine disappears, the friends believe it’s a trick and leave for the night (to “celebrate the new century”), but not before George invites them to dinner the following Friday evening. Filby stays behind for a few moments to tell George that if the life-size version of his time machine can do what he thinks it can, he should destroy it.
George immediately goes into his laboratory and tests his life-size time machine with amazing results. He shoots forward in time to 1917, where he gets out and meets Filby’s son, James, who’s in a military uniform. George learns that Filby died in the war (World War I) but that, since he was the executor of George’s estate after George disappeared, he refused to change anything about his house or let anyone buy it lest the original owner someday return. James seems to think that idea is funny, but then gets around to asking who George actually is. George declines to tell him and runs back to the time machine to go further ahead in time. He stops briefly in 1940 to witness London being bombed from the sky and wonders how the war has lasted so long. Then, he thinks to himself, “This is a new war”—World War II.
Moving forward again, he stops in 1966 (six years, incidentally, after the movie was made) and discovers that his town is about to experience a nuclear attack and the air raid sirens (more here)—something he’s never heard before and is rightly concerned about—are warning residents to head for the underground shelter (conveniently located within a block of his time machine). He meets James Filby again, this time as an old man, and asks him what’s going on. James tell him that they have to get underground to wait for the “All Clear” before realising that he’s talking to the exact same man he met in 1917—right down to the same clothes he wore the first time. James seems to be more worried about the impending attack, however, and leaves George above ground for the safety of the shelter.
George rushes back to his time machine and presses the lever as far forward as it will go. In a voiceover, he explains to his friends (he’s been telling this story in retrospect the entire time so far) that Earth felt what the humans were doing to it and rebelled with volcanic eruptions. He and his time machine are trapped in solid rock for thousands and thousands of years before he is finally able to stop again in the far future, year 802701. He exits the time machine (this time taking the lever with him—”the only smart thing he did the entire movie,” my dad says) and discovers a world covered in fruit trees with no winter and no war. He finds a group of young people playing near and swimming in a river and is, at first, pleased to see the seeming lack of hardship. But, when one young woman begins to drown and no one else tries to save her, he dives into the water to pull her out, furious that no one else “even lifted a finger” to help her.
Notice the floor; I’ll mention it in a minute.
He goes with them to the ruins of an old building where the young woman asks him why he saved her since she doesn’t seem to care even about her own life. He learns her name, Weena, and that her people are called the Eloi. Inside the old building, the Eloi sit on pillows and eat various fruits from white porcelain plates and drink water(?) from white goblets. He tries to engage them in conversation, but they lack curiosity and/or discipline. He learns that they have no government, laws, or civilization to speak of but is excited when one of the young men agrees to show him their collection of books. When he finds the books covered in dust and mold-eaten, however, he’s outraged. He tells the Eloi angrily, “I’m going back to my own time. I won’t even bother to tell of the useless struggle for a hopeless future. But at least I can die among men!”
When he returns to his time machine, he finds that it’s been moved. He tries to get it back to no avail. Night begins to fall, and Weena comes after him to tell him that they should go inside or the Morlock will get them. True to her word, she’s attacked while he’s talking and he has to beat them back to save her. He builds a fire (something she’s never seen before) and discovers that the Morlock hate light. After Weena shows him the “talking rings” which explain more about the Eloi/Morlock history, he decides to go underground to get his time machine back but as he descends into the hole, he hears air raid sirens again and runs after Weena, who—along with the other Eloi—is entranced by the sound. They all begin walking towards the underground doors until the sirens stop, but not before the doors close—with Weena on the inside. George is angry at the Eloi for not trying to resist or otherwise stop the people from going underground, and he asks one of the young men why they stopped when the siren stopped. The man says, “There is nothing wrong. It is all clear.” Frustrated, George tries to explain that they don’t have to go underground anymore since the “flying machines” and bombings don’t exist anymore, but the Eloi seem uninterested.
After pleading unsuccessfully with the Eloi to at least try to save their comrades, George decides to save Weena himself and climbs down a hole (same one as before). Below, he discovers the Morlocks run machinery and have become (horror of horrors) cannibals. He lights his torch on fire and begins fighting the Morlocks off. One of the Morlocks gets him in a stranglehold and he nearly dies before one of the Eloi men realises his power and hits the Morlock away, saving George. They all escape safely and watch from a short distance as the ground caves in and (presumably) kills all the Morlocks. George is relieved, but sad that he has to stay in the future when he could’ve gone back and told his friends quite a tale or two. Weena sits with him while he reminiscences, gives him a flower (which he puts in his breast pocket), and then asks, “How do they wear their hair—the women of your time?” and then, “Would I be pretty?” They almost kiss but are interrupted when an Eloi man yells for them to “Look!”
They discover the time machine and George runs to it, urging Weena to come with him. She follows too slowly, however, and they realise it’s a trap too late. They’re separated and George must fend off the attacking Morlocks and get away. He presses the lever as far forward as it will go, realises he’s going “in the wrong direction” (into the future), and pushes it down so that he’s heading back to his time period. When he returns to January 5, 1900, he bursts into the dining room to his waiting friends and relates to them everything that has just happened. His friends don’t believe his “preposterous” story, even after he gives Filby the flower from his pocket and challenges him to identify it (something Filby is unable to do). The three unbelievers (of which Filby is not one) go out to a waiting coach and ask, “What do you think, Filby?” He answers, “One thing is certain: that flower couldn’t possibly have bloomed in the wintertime.”
Filby rushes back inside after George’s other friends have left, only to find George has once again left in his time machine—presumably back (forward, really) to Weena. Filby and the housekeeper look around the house for anything that might be missing and discover that George has taken three books with him. 
“Which three books?” Filby asks the housekeeper. “I don’t know,” she responds, “Is it important?” Filby answers, “Oh, I suppose not. Only… which three books would you have taken?”
Thoughts
A few things jumped out at me. First, the far-future is apparently extremely Aryan. Not only are there no dark-skinned people in the year 802701, there aren’t even any dark-haired people. Second, the science that relates to time travel is so convoluted and paradoxical that my father had a hard time even explaining to my mother and me how it’s supposed to work, much less what’s wrong with it—and he’s smart. (Though, he did mention that H.G. Wells was writing under the assumption of Newtonian physics, before Einstein figured out relativity and all that.) Even though this movie is “science fiction” it’s really more like fantasy because the science wasn’t really explained further than “Oh, time is the fourth dimension and with this device I can move backward and forward in time.” Third, I’ve come to understand that some things are pre-feminist (as opposed to anti-feminist) and, since this movie was produced in 1960, before the Second Wave, it can be considered pre-feminist. That said, when someone is asking about another person’s time period, as Weena did with George, is the first thing on her mind really what the women’s hair looked like back then? Really?
Also, as a side note, scroll back up for a minute to the picture of George and the Eloi eating. When he first enters the building, I noticed the floor and said to my dad, “That looks like a parking lot.” (You can see some of the painted lines in the picture above.) Afterward, I did some research for this entry and found out that
In the great hall whenever George is inside, you see parallel and perpendicular white lines painted on the floor. The table arrangements do not conform to any arrangement that fits these lines. This is because the set was constructed over a studio parking lot and they did not put down a floor covering. The revealing parking lines are simply ignored. This info came from a special effects veteran who was on the set during the filming of these scenes.
I read that aloud to my dad and said, “Remember I said it looked like a parking lot? That’s because it was a parking lot!” We all laughed. Dad also noted (with irritation) that the new century began January 1, 1901, not January 1, 1900, as George and his friends said it did, just like the new millennium didn’t begin on January 1, 2000.
Now I want to see The Journey Back (wiki). I’ve been advised to stay away from the 2002 film starring Guy Pearce, though one critic did mention that the 2002 version had a better motive for the main character to build the time machine in the first place. (In the 1960 film, George’s reason for building the it is “…if you want to know the truth: I don’t much care for the time I was born into…” Like I haven’t heard that before.)
The Past Week via Twitter: 2010-04-18
by V.E. on April 18th, 2010
filed under twitter
- @Dredgly they're just jealous that you got out and they don't have the courage to do the same. in reply to Dredgly #
- *Every* generation is a "selfish generation"… please, people, get off your high horses. #
- a recent Facebook update from a friend: "I am a Christian." I'm thinking to myself: "Yeah, and…?" #
- @donnatalarico @whoismisterjim wow, Jim has a new collection out? that's so awesome! I should really keep up with my #Wilkes people better. in reply to donnatalarico #
- @Jonathan_Rocks wow! great news, Rocks! hopefully you'll keep us informed about the goings on there. ^_^ in reply to Jonathan_Rocks #
- Today's a wash. #
- @donnatalarico me too! have a good time and hug everyone for me. ^_^ in reply to donnatalarico #
- thoughts on the #DayofSilence which is today! http://bit.ly/aqaYFg show your support by being silent. #
- also, in that vein… my #FF Follow Friday account today is @DayofSilence. #DayofSilence #
- uuuuuugh. sick to my stomach. #
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Day of Silence 2010
by V.E. on April 16th, 2010
filed under lgbt, politics, school
Today is the National Day of Silence. Though other blogs have written about it, too, I wanted to note something that’s bugged me for the past couple of years about the Day. Not the Day itself, I guess, but the way—in my experience—it’s been handled by members of the community supporting it. I don’t know if this is even appropriate, but I just have to write it to stop it from continuing to annoy me. And that is…
It really bothers me when someone says, “I’ll be participating in the Day of Silence, but I’ll be speaking in classes, of course, because I have to…” etc. The whole damn point of the Day of Silence is for people to realize how much they’re missing out on by not hearing other people’s voices (specifically, LGBT people’s voices).
The first year that my high school participated in the Day of Silence (in 2001), I was (supposed to be) the main coordinator. I was working with the GSA president (I was a sophomore and vice president at the time) to bring the Day to fruition. Unfortunately, after we went to the Associated Student Body (ASB, the students’ elected representatives) for support from them and from other groups on campus, ASB basically ran us both over and took over the project with a fervor I’ve never seen before or since from that group. Although everything still went through the president and me, in theory, we were leaders in name only. We were given sheets of paper to sign and told what was going to happen and that was about it for our involvement.
The first change ASB implemented was to make the Day of Silence about more than just LGBT people. On the Day, we were given different color ribbons depending on what group we supported (ie: people who are silenced because of racism, ableism, sexism, heterosexism, and so on.) The GSA president and I went along with this (even enthusiastically!) because we were warned that the school might not approve a Day of Silence “that’s only for the gays”…
The second—and, I think, more detrimental—change the ASB made was to “allow” for speaking in class “when required” because they couldn’t make the teachers change their curriculum for one day “on such short notice”. What if a teacher called on you to answer a question for the class? the ASB asked us. I’ve never been a teacher of high school students, so I don’t know how difficult it is to change one day’s worth of the curriculum to allow for students standing up for something in which they believe, but that’s beside the point because it seems half-assed to say (as a student, not a teacher) that you’ll participate in the Day and then talk when called upon anyway. Isn’t the whole point of the Day to show how bad for everyone silencing just one person can be? If participants are “allowed” to speak when called upon, they’re not really silent, now are they?
Honestly, though, my high school’s first Day of Silence was better than I expected it to be. I’m not saying it was all bad (as this journal entry may imply), and in subsequent years, after we showed the administration that we weren’t going to blow up a building or something, we were able to focus the Day more on LGBT people.
And I’m not saying that Day of Silence participants should be shunned or something for speaking in class, I just think they should really think about what they’re committing to and why… and truly commit to it, if they want to. Be silent, or don’t. You can still support the Day without being silent, as other bloggers have mentioned. But if you decide to be silent—be silent! Trust me, it makes for a more seriously-taken statement.
Family Guy
by V.E. on April 12th, 2010
filed under entertainment, recap/review
Over the past three or so weeks, I’ve watched every episode of Family Guy (wiki) that’s aired up to this point (all of seasons 1-7 and season 8 up through April in Quahog). That’s a total of 142 23-minute-long episodes. That’s more than fifty-four hours of Family Guy—time I can never get back.
Was it worth it? Not really, but I did it for the sake of completion. (I started watching it out of boredom and was forced to finish because I’m obsessive about the strangest things.) Was it funny? I can count on one hand how many times it was actually funny. So basically, no, it wasn’t. It was always insulting and at some time or other sexist, rape apologist, racist, ableist, misogynist, anti-Semitic, and heterosexist—and those are just the words I can think off the top of my head.
UPDATE 13 April 2010: I found an article that does a tiny bit of the deconstructing I talk about below. Oh, and this one.
I’d almost say that each episode deserves its own deconstruction, but then I realised that I’d have to actually care about the series to do that 142 times. (I can’t even do it thirteen times for CANAAN, as you may have noticed.) Family Guy relies heavily on allusion and cutaway gags. 
I can deal with the former as long as I know enough about the subject matter which is being alluded to (Ginsberg’s Howl is an example of something with allusions in every line that I just can’t stand because I don’t get the allusions and without that, I can’t understand the poem—but that rant is for another time), but the latter I can do without all together. I agree with other critics who say that the show relies too heavily on cutaways to the detriment of plot-driven humor.
Also, if you want to learn everything you never wanted to know about the show, just hit up the unofficial wiki or Freakin’ Sweet News; there’s really no need for someone like me, who only watched the series recently and who didn’t even like it, to put that much effort into taking each episode apart piece by piece. I would be interested, however, to read someone else’s deconstruction if they have the time and the will. It’d be like what Vampirely‘s done for the Twilight series. (Trust me, read her comments before you even think about reading the books for yourselves. If you’ve already read the books, just get over to her website and cleanse your mind.) That said, I have no desire to address each Family Guy episode on its own.
I’m just going to go with: Peter is a total jackass who has absolutely no redeeming qualities—if someone else can find any, let me know. Lois is okay sometimes, but she doesn’t really make an effort to help Peter change for the better, and she doesn’t ever leave him. They profess to love each other, and she actually may (though I can’t for the life of me see why), but I can’t think of one instance in which his “love” for her actually resembles real love or respect. Chris is an idiot, but he’s generally a nice guy (with a horrible father-figure); Meg is neglected, downtrodden, and otherwise abused in every episode. 
Brian drinks too much and, while his ideas are pretty sane, he still considers Peter his best friend, which makes him just a tad dumber in my book. Stewie, the baby, is naturally homicidal after all this dysfunction and it makes me want him to actually succeed in killing one (or more) of his family members just so that the viewing public will finally be put out of its misery.
Too bad it had(/has) such high ratings. I think Fox did the right thing by canceling the show after the third season in 2002. (It was renewed in 2005 after Fox noticed it had strong syndication and DVD sales.) Ugh; I need to metaphorically wash my mouth out with something… I don’t know… something good. Would I recommend the series to anyone? No, I wouldn’t. It’s stupid humor that’s more stupid than humorous. It teaches kids the wrong things about how to treat women (and everyone else who isn’t a cisgendered white man), and it doesn’t help that frat boys watch it either—they’re learning that they can be jackasses and still have a hot wife who never leaves them even though they’re unattractive and do nothing to help around the house, much less respect her or treat her as they would like to be treated. And did I mention that the humor is just really stupid? Because it is.
The Past Week via Twitter: 2010-04-11
by V.E. on April 11th, 2010
filed under twitter
- you know what? what the hell is wrong being emo? I don't know anyone who ISN'T *some*times. sheesh. get over yourself, people. #
- if I quit Twitter or Facebook or Formspring, I have to make a conscious decision to do it. #
- I've been using (some of) my friends as an excuse to fail. http://bit.ly/bNgl6X #
- which might not have been… diplomatic. But she's not a diplomat, she's a *writer*, which might be the exact opposite. http://bit.ly/bD245t #
- @estherium http://twitpic.com/1eh1el – wow, that's really cute! #
- I hope #Diplocon is going well. check it out today if you haven't already! http://edisk.fandm.edu/Diplocon/ #
- I'm also missing #WGI finals! love winterguard. (see @WGItweets for more info.) #
- @mkelleyy yeah, I miss colorguard/winterguard somethin' fierce. been trying to figure out how to get back into it even tho I'm too old, too. in reply to mkelleyy #
- @mkelleyy haha no problem. in reply to mkelleyy #
- @mkelleyy I marched in high school in Southern California. I would've in college, too, but my college didn't have a guard. *sadface* in reply to mkelleyy #
- Endeavor to cherish each other unequivocally. http://bit.ly/bJ2lwc #
