identity crisis #42

retitled again.  who am I?  why am I here?

 

what i did on my christmas vacation.

well, so far, i’ve read and eaten and shopped and, um, watched Prison Break. 

You see, my addictive personality dictates that when I begin watching a tv show on dvd, i must watch the entire series commercial free, in any spare time i have.  Case in point, Roswell (which I wound up buying, and have now watched the entire series twice), Firefly, the OC (hanging my head in shame–YES, the OC), Rome, and now Prison Break.  Holy crap.  I’m honestly not a vegetable (although does a potato really know its a potato?), I am just easily drawn into stories.

Let me ramble a minute about PB.  (Please excuse the “message board geek” style abbreviation that I just now used.  It just came out.)

I love the premise–a structural engineer robs a bank so that he can break his wrongly-convicted death-row inmate brother out of prison from the inside.  Before said bank robbery, Engineer has spent months orchestrating an impossibly intricate escape plan using the blueprints for the prison building (which he just happens to have access to at the firm where he works) and what can only be described as a buttload of research on every possible aspect of the prison, including the serial numbers of the screws in the bleachers in the “yard.”  So here’s the coolest part of the entire show, and the deal-breaker for me:  after trying in vain to memorize the complicated passages and tunnels and general plumbing of the prison, Engineer disguises the blue prints in an elaborate tattoo which covers his entire torso.  That was the moment when I exclaimed, “This show ROCKS!”  From this point on, he is known as Hot Engineer Genius.

So, well, the rest of the show can get pretty outlandish.  With enough near-misses and unplanned obstacles that you kind of giggle about it after a while (or sigh in exasperation as some other complication arises), the intensity factor of every episode takes over and I still find myself living on the edge of my seat.  So I’m officially addicted.  And waiting for the next discs to come in the mail is KILLING ME.

 

who the heck do i vote for now?

Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. 

-Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

 

sir francis said it best.

“Knowledge is power.”  Sir Francis Bacon, late 16th century.

 I posted this quotation on the wall of the my media center, along with James A. Garfields “Ideas control the world.”  This is why I became a teacher.

If I have learned anything over the past decade, it is that information changes the world.  The more you know, the more you change.  The more you change, the more others change.  Exponential change, person-by-person.  Society by society. 

Add to that that information has never been more accessible to the person on the street.  Technologies and media have enabled us to become the most informed society in the history of the world, and any person can find any information within a matter of seconds.  It’s not just for scientists and scholars anymore–now a grocery-store cashier can go home to find the latest information on climate change, genocide in Africa, or the plight of emperor penguins in Antarctica.  You cannot be exposed to the wonders, miracles, and tragedies of this world without being changed in some way.  Then what do you do?  You share it with others.  Send an email, put it on your blog, make posters, or hold a rally.

So I have created a new page here, websites of mass instruction, on which I have posted several websites I visit often in order to stay informed.  Take a look if you want.  Or don’t.  It’s up to you.  That’s the thing about education; no matter how easy it is, it still requires action to seek it out.

 

frikkin frak!

Pardon my french.  But now I hear I will have to wait until April 2008 for the new season of Battlestar Galactica.    You canNOT tell me that Col. Tigh is a cylon and then wait a YEAR before I get more??? And don’t try to “tide me over” with a measly two hour flash-back movie (not that I won’t be watching it intently anyway).  Okay, so I need to get a life.  A real one, anyway. 

Just a disclaimer here–I am not a Trekkie, nor have I ever been to or will probably ever go to a sci fi convention.  I am a reasonably normal person with friends and family.  I do leave my house on occasion and manage to hold down a socially acceptable job. I may even be your next door neighbor.  But this show is so intriguing and well-done, I am certifiably hooked. One season to go before I can kick my BSG habit.

 

childhood: they don’t make it like they used to.

Okay.  So I’m turning into my mother. 

Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy the humor of Shrek, Chicken Little, and Happy Feet.  It’s clever. 

But is it really necessary to have two heart-warming, endearing characters doing karoake to the Spice Girls “If you want to be my lover”?  Does the sweet heartsong of a penguin really have to include the words “I’ll make love to you like you want me to”?

I guess I just wish we didn’t rush our children to become acclimated to such concepts.  Movies that are marketed for children (even though adults enjoy them too, they ARE marketed for children–that’s what the happy meal toy is for) are becoming more and more “street” in an effort to reach children who are becoming more and more so, I suppose.  But who really cares which came first, the chicken or the egg?  The societal “development” or the marketing strategy?  The marketers are making conscious decisions to perpetuate the cycle.  Check out the Frontline documentary Merchants of Cool to get smacked in the face by the marketing world and it’s relentless manipulation of youth in the name of making a buck.  (By the way, you can watch this doc and many others at freedocumentaries.org)

When I was teaching third grade and began to notice the heavy makeup, short skirts (I don’t care if they’ve got shorts attached underneath…), and big hoop earrings dangling from the ears of 8 year olds, I began to look more closely at what they were watching and being influenced by.  Not that the makers of movies like Shrek are solely responsible, but they do offer enough evidence of the societal values that are changing children.  Thanks MTV.  Goodbye, Never-Never Land.  Cartoons aren’t for kids anymore. 

I hate that the innocence of childhood is nearly extinct nowdays.  Listen to a room of kids sing to themselves while they work intently… you’ll hear “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard” and “My lovely lady lumps” and “You can lick my lollipop”.  I’ve heard kids, kindergartners included, singing all these songs at some point in my teaching career.  Seriously.

Parents have never been more important than they are today.  Their competition is stronger and greedier than ever.

Now I’m going to return to my DVR and watch a documentary about eating disorders.  Wonder where THAT came from.

 

this one is about paul the phone salesman

I may be a little late on the bandwagon with this, but in case you haven’t seen it, take a minute to check out the newest vid on my vodpod–Paul sings opera.  It is such an amazing example of power, grace, and beauty that resides in every human being, regardless of how we feel about ourselves or are seen by others.  Tim’s blog, which I suggest you take a moment to read (go to Oct 25th post), puts flawless words to the significance of this performance.  And watch the audience closely… the effect that this man, this awkward seemingly-mediocre phone salesman, has on the people in the room.  Wow.  What a breathtaking materialization of what it means to be made in God’s image.

(by the way, thanks lil bro for sending it to me!)

 

retitled

Okay, so I renamed my blog, in reference to one of my favorite overheards (check my Overheard page).  I’m not sure why I love it so much; you kind of have to know  the student as I did.  It’s just so simple and truthful and matter of fact.  It makes me smile everytime I think of it.

Attic fan is on right now… I LOVE autumn!!!!!!

 

man FULLY alive…

 So I googled Joseph Arthur a while ago, trying to find out more about his music after hearing his sweet, simple “In the Sun.”  My google quest led me to a site called “A River Blue,” a project with which Arthur was involved, that brought the arts to Ugandan refugees in displacement camps.  The refugees, youth in particular, were provided with artistic materials and given the freedom and opportunity to create and express to their hearts’ content.  

My initial reaction to this was one of disdain.  It just seemed silly.  These people had been deprived of their homes, families, food, and basic quality-of-life necessities.  Many had been witnesses to or victims of unspeakable violence and horror.  And their friends from the west want them to paint pictures? 

It didn’t make sense to me, until I heard the song Arthur recorded with Ugandan children from the camp, and saw the art that had been created.  “The glory of God is man FULLY ALIVE.”  That quotation, which has been my anthem since reading Waking the Dead by John Eldridge several years ago, suddenly shook me again with a new realization.  FULLY ALIVE. 

Survival is important.  Food and shelter and safety is important.  But experiencing beauty and expressing creativity is the key to being FULLY ALIVE.  Art not only comes from the heart, but speaks directly to it. The heart is the “wellspring of life.”  So why should these refugees who have lost so much be deprived of the experience and healing that creativity can offer? 

A person is a spiritual being as well as a physical one.  All persons, victims of crises or not, should have the chance not only to live, but to be FULLY ALIVE.  And that’s why A River Blue isn’t silly.  It’s a quality-of-life necessity, too.

 

post script to previous post (aka “boo. hiss.”)

by the way, I have to add that in my obsession with Queen Esther I was super-excited to see the movie “One Night with the King.” 

American accents.  A mystical ring that illuminates a hidden symbol.  Please.  It was ridiculous.

Even James Callis (Baltar!) managed to butcher (not literally) Haman, even with his normally gorgeous british accent.  What the heck was up with the raspy voice? Somebody get him a Riccola.