On Correcting Your Children's Texts To You.

My friend Stacey noted that she regularly corrected her children's grammar and spelling when they texted with her. She then asked her Followers who were mothers whether they practiced the same actions. Here is my conversation with Stacey:

(My questions in red, her replies in blue)


I noticed on Twitter last night, you asked mothers Following you whether or not they corrected their kid's grammar when texting. What kind of responses did you get?

Yes, I do that and I was wondering if other mothers do it as well. All of the responses from mothers with children who are old enough to text said that no, they do not correct them. One homeschooling mom said she added any mistakes to her child's spelling/vocab list to learn the next week, which I thought was a pretty good idea.

Were you surprised at the negative responses?

Yes, I was. Apparently, I'm the only mother I know who corrects spelling and grammar errors by text.

What were the reasons these mothers gave for not correcting their children's texts?

No one gave me a reason, except for one responder who thought correcting by text would annoy the children into not texting with her anymore.

Just so we're clear, what exactly do you correct in your kid's texts? Realize they use a lot of slang and "word shortcuts".

I don't mind the slang and the usual text abbreviations such as how r u?, thx, ttyl, etc. Using numbers for words, those kinds of shortcuts are normal for texting and I know everyone does that. What I correct is when the child clearly is misspelling a word or uses bad grammar, such as "Me and my friend are going to the store." I'll correct that before responding.

How have your children reacted to this instruction?

They send me a corrected text, sometimes with a "Sorry, mom"

Have they always reacted this way? Do they think such correction is unnecessary?

I have taught them to react this way. They understand that to get a reply from me, they'll need to type properly. I'll give you another example. I was at the grocery a couple weeks ago and my 8yo texted me asking for "candee". I replied "Candee is not a word. Are you asking ME for candy?" He replied "Yes ma'am. Candy, please." I'm not sure if they feel the correction is unnecessary. I've never asked them how they feel about it. I feel it is necessary.

Do you have any thoughts about parents who do not correct their children's texting?

Not really. I believe each parent should do what they think is best for their child. Because I homeschool my children, and mainly unschool, I use every opportunity and teachable moment that presents itself.

I've noticed many adults on Twitter having the same problems with grammar and spelling many children have. And they do not take kindly to correction. Is it this type of action you are hoping to prevent by training, or should I say, educating, your kids that good grammar/spelling is essential no matter the medium?

Yes, absolutely. My oldest already has a facebook page and his spelling and grammar are on public display. I know a lot of people ignore mistakes on facebook, especially for kids, but I feel it is important for him to practice now so that he isn't continuing these kinds of things into adulthood. I know many mothers will disagree, but for me, I think ignoring my kids' errors says to them that it's ok. I treat spelling and grammar training just like any other training, like table manners or good behavior. If a child breaks a rule, such as slamming a door, I'd correct them the first time they did it, so it doesn't become a bad habit. Same with spelling rules.

Have you read Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua?

No, I don't believe so...

A conversation for another time. I personally agree with your position on this matter, wholeheartedly. I think spelling and grammar are increasingly important in the age of microblogging and text messages where we presume lax standards to be acceptable. And I thank you for a great interview. Thank you very much, Stacey.

Thank you, it was great talking with you as always, Rob.

The pits of Kendra and Felipe

Once upon a time an incredibly wounded soul named Kendra Supersad sighed. Oh, she sighed a lot, such was her life, so sigh-worthy. Kendra lived on an enchanted island called Down There. She had lived there her whole life and she had searched her whole life for someone to share her despair. Though large, her island could not provide her with someone to fill this role.

One day while searching the internet for black clothing, she found a website for people who enjoyed talking in very short spaces about unimportant things. It was called Pitter-Patter, or Pitter for short. On Pitter she could type incessantly about her sadness and dreary outlook on life! These “pits” were responded to with such nice people offering help and comfort. She weeded out these people immediately.

A somber young man named Felipe Easydoesit, much like Kendra, was living in a disconsolate world of his own making in a land called Over There. He sought happiness in pills, but doctors couldn’t ever come up with the right combination for poor Felipe. So he looked for solace in the wonderful little package of American goodness known as the hamburger. He loved them so much he would only work within an arm’s length of one. He also found Pitter and made much of the same pits that Kendra did.

One day they found one another on Pitter! And oh there was sadness and grieving and a general cheerlessness between the two that no one else could fathom or wish to become a part of! They made arrangements to meet and it was gloriously morose! Soulmates! They fought, they argued, they were so happy in their sadness together!
Sometimes they had to fight off misguided people who tried to show them that happiness and joy both within this world and into eternity was possible. They seethed at these naïve wishful thinkers. They took them on, one and all, eventually smiting them!! Mainly by clicking 2 buttons on their Pitter BUT THAT WAS ENOUGH. They could revel in their oppressive misery together, and they did. Until they broke up.

The End.

2010 in Review: Movies

By my informal count, there were 204 movies released in theaters in 2010. I have, as of this writing, seen 81 of them. By and large I was pleased with the films released in 2010, though not a great year, I was able to formulate a list of 10 of my favorite films of that year. Also, I have included top performances in 4 acting categories, in my opinion. A disclaimer is that since I have not seen every film released, and not even half, I will probably get into March and see something that should be on this list. An example of this would be The King's Speech. It looks very good and would probably end up in a few of my lists but I haven't seen it yet. That said, let's get deeper into some dream layers.

BEST PERFORMANCES OF 2010

My pick for absolute best in red

Best Actor

Jeff Bridges- True Grit
Leonardo di Caprio- Inception
Stephen Dorff- Somewhere
Robert Duvall- Get Low
James Franco- 127 Hours

Best Actress

Emma Bell- Frozen
Dakota Fanning- The Runaways
Greta Gerwig- Greenberg
Jennifer Lawrence- Winter's Bone
Emma Stone- Easy A

Best Supporting Actor

Christian Bale- The Fighter
Matt Damon- True Grit
Jonah Hill- Cyrus
Bill Murray- Get Low
Miles Teller- Rabbit Hole

Best Supporting Actress

Elle Fanning- Somewhere
Ann Guilbert- Please Give
Mila Kunis- Black Swan
Melissa Leo- The Fighter
Hailee Stenfeld- True Grit

Overrated Films of 2010

Though visually pleasing, I thought The Social Network was at heart a biography of a company and do not understand the hype. The Kids Are Alright has nothing new to offer and I am mystified at its heat. Black Swan was a confusing mess, though not bad. Simply overrated.

Underrated Films of 2010

Catfish, a wonderful juxtaposition of documentary and fiction, had me on the edge of my seat. It is a rare thing when you have NO idea where a movie is going. Even when it's done. Splice was more than just a horror film. A complex relationship film, it deserves more viewers. The Joneses, Leaves of Grass, Get Low, and The Human Centipede all may be looked at with fonder eyes years from now. Okay maybe not that last one.

My Favorite Films of 2010
in reverse order

10) Cyrus. What an odd gem of a movie. Curious performances wrapped around
a strange story of an adult son/mother relationship. Jonah Hill proves adept at acting so odd one is afraid he may go violent at any moment or that he may be very funny. John C. Reilly is his usual best in this semi Greek tragicomedy.




9) Paranormal Activity 2. A big fan of the original, I was afraid the sequel would mar my memory. It did not. Using even more cameras with, thankfully, only a fraction of the hand held footage, this movie delivered the scares. Add in a dog and a baby and you have a great sequel Now if they could only stop at this one.


8) Winter's Bone. The Ozarks are another character in this well-acted tale of poverty, gossip, family ties, ad methamphetamine. I felt as if I were with the lovely Jennifer Lawrence as she battled seemingly everyone in order to provide for her younger siblings. It is horrible, the life portrayed by these people and I found it unforgettable.




7) Catfish. If you are online much, if you have arrived at this blog post via Twitter, if you frequent online dating sites, you have probably at one time or another wondered just who the hell is typing to you. Is that person REALLY who they purport to be? Well Catfish takes such a concept to an end. What that end TRULY is, is up for interpretation, for so many people who have seen is STILL don't know if what one sees in Catfish is real. I think I know, but I want you to watch it and tell me your thoughts. Mesmerizing.



6) Get Low. Funny. Touching. Very well acted. This film about an old man who wants to be present at his own funeral showcases redemption, guilt, forgiveness, and letting go. Fabulous performances by Robert Duvall and Bill Murray as well as Sissy Spacek make this a great, great film.






5) True Grit. The Coen Brothers rarely do wrong in my eyes. True Grit is no exception. Incredible performances by newcomer Hailee Stenfeld as well as Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon make this a fun movie to watch. Far superior to the original, the repartee between the three main characters is great fun. My only qualm would be the ending. It should have ended perhaps 10 minutes sooner.







4) Toy Story 3. A very pleasant family film's third go round never gets stale. Woody and Buzz are thrust into new predicaments that they must overcome, along with the rest of the gang and in the end, we watch Andy play with them one last time. Moved me to tears.






3) The Karate Kid. A pleasant surprise was this remake by the People's Repubic of China and Will Smith. New life is brought into a beloved 80's movie and I loved how we saw into China's culture while being given a story that, like Toy Story 3, had me weeping at the end. Props to Jaden Smith for delivering the charisma necessary to make this a hit.

2) 127 Hours. I watche this film twice and enjoyed it equally, for different reasons, each time. What is thought to be a story of a single event where a man is pinned to a rock is made so much more by director Danny Boyle and terrifc acting by James Franco. Boyle's manic celebration of movement and life is so inspiring and an instant classic. Graphic, yes, but not what you've been told. Give it half a chance.

1) Inception. I saw this film twice as well and though my viewing companion brought up troubling logical problems, I enjoyed this inventive, razzle dazzle of a mind bending film. Like nothing I'd seen, perhaps since The Matrix, this film grabbed me and never let go. By the way, I had more fun discussing with my movie watching friend the work of gravity within dream levels than I can remember having with anyone else discussing films. I can't wait to watch more movies with her.

And that's it, the Year in Movies according to me. Great Directors like Boyle, Christopher Nolan, Darron Aronofsky, and the Coen Brothers made it a fun time to watch movies. I hope they all come back with new projects soon. So tell me, what's YOUR favorite movie?

On The Politicization of the Arizona Shooting

On the morning of Saturday, January 8, 2011, in Tucson, Arizona at a political gathering outside a grocery store, Sarah Palin shot and killed 6 people, and wounded 13 in a deadly shooting spree. In addition to Palin, several hundred thousand members of the Tea Party also pulled the trigger that critically injured Rep. Gabrielle Giffords, the Democratic congresswoman believed to be the target of the attack. One of the dead, a 9-year old girl named Christina Taylor Green, will likely spur legislation to revoke the 2nd Amendment to the Constitution, which, wrongly, gives citizens the right to bear arms. After the much needed ban on guns life will then be safe from crazed individuals like Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh and Conservative Tea Party members in general. After the precedent of the 2nd Amendment’s repeal, the 1st Amendment will be amended to ban offensive words and phrases, such as “I’ve got you in my cross-hairs”, “Targeted”, “Pray”, and “God”. The list of words and phrases will be long, updated daily, and result in stiff fines and/or jail time for repeat offenders. In this manner life for Americans and the rest of the world will be a virtual paradise. Especially after Conservatism is outlawed.

If you read that and found yourself nodding and smiling in agreement, then you are probably not going to be smiling and nodding when you reach the end of this post. One reason you may be happy with the previous paragraph is because I failed to mention the name of the ACTUAL killer, Jared Loughner. Perhaps you are eagerly awaiting any morsel of news that Mr. Laughner was spurred in some way by “Talk Radio”, or “The Tea Party Movement”, or some sort of religious leaning. It is in THIS way that you can then apply your own political views onto a situation that clearly does not have any. I know some of you have done this. I have read your words. On the social networking site Twitter, I have sought to engage you in debate. Mostly you ignore me. I wish I knew why. Here are some examples:

From @HiKris

“I wonder how Sarah Palin will sleep tonight? I'm sure a lot better than the parent's of the 9 year that was murdered.”

This was the first reference to Sarah Palin in my timeline, and one that made no sense whatsoever. I remarked on this to her:

@InkPanther

"Awesome! I have my first Dumbass Blame Sarah Palin Tweet! wtg @HiKris !!!”“

Her reply:

“@InkPanther You're welcome, always glad to help. I do wish you could have used a few more exclamation points.”

A deflection. Rather than explain her nonsense she sought to remark on my choice of punctuation.

The actress Jane Fonda weighed in:

@janefonda

“Progressive Arizona Rep Gabrielle Giffords is shot. In her ads, Sarah Palin had her targeted in a gun site. Inciting to violence.”

“@glenbeck guilty too. Shame. It must stop!”

“@SarahPalinUSA holds responsibility. As does the violence-provoking rhetoric of the Tea Party”

Ms. Fonda misspells Glenn Beck’s name, and calls Rep. Giffords a Progressive, though Rep. Giffords supported the rights of her constituents to bear arms.₁

Now I realize the text-message size space limitations of Twitter make a detailed rumination of ones thoughts impractical but one can string many tweets together or, better yet, make truthful statements rather than false ones. As David Limbaugh tweeted, regarding the “gun sights” advertisements on Palin’s website:

@DavidLimbaugh

“I honestly have 2 wonder whether ths leftist stampede 2 condemn SPalin springs frm projection. They cnt conceive her imagery was jst imagery”

By placing certain congress people in “gun sights” it is obvious to most rational people that she was NOT advocating the shooting of them. When did we go to this extreme in our thinking? It goes along with Mrs. Palin’s independent, frontier attitude of being a rugged individualist and her love of hunting, it is not an assertion that someone should LITERALLY shoot and kill certain congressmen. Ms. Fonda is simply choosing to avoid this obvious point to use this tragedy to attack Palin and Beck.

The crazy was increased later that same day.

@Medusa_Rantz:

“#Tea Party #tcot #2nd Civil War? : I hope, as American's, that we'll realize that #TeaParty members are HOME GROWN TERRORISTS. #BanTeaParty!”

“@GeorgiaElliott7 : I'll tell u what motivated that 22 yo #Gifford shooter: Gun loving, bible-thumping, all Americans. #TeaParty #Terrorists”

This Tweeter actually advocates the banning of a Movement! And the label “HOME GROWN TERRORISTS” is used without any supporting evidence! HOW, in God’s name are Tea Party Members terrorists!? Where is the proof? What is even more egregious is the fact that she HAS ASSIGNED A MOTIVE TO THIS HORRIBLE ACT! What special powers does she have that she can possibly KNOW this? This is perhaps the most irresponsible tweet I have ever witnessed.
Another person on Twitter refused to respond to me directly, only referring once to this blog in an indirect, and incorrect, manner.

@amys_bus_ticket

“@SarahPalinUSA hoping that you begin to take some responsibility for the rhetoric & pot-stirring you do & renounce violence very clearly ;("

“Dear Rush Limbaugh: Please begin to use your powers for the greater good instead of scum-sucking evil -- luv, ABT”

This person apparently read my tweets to her, yet refused to back up her opinions. I understand this desire to not engage me in debate. She realizes she has nothing with which to back up her rhetoric. Like many of the tweeters condemning the Tea Party Movement, Palin, et al, much retweeting was being done. These people only see a hateful tweet against these people and immediately, instinctually, slap their big paws on the RT button, thinking they are making a point. I would simply like some answers. Why take this tragedy and politicize it? Why shamelessly mischaracterize the views of those you dislike? Failure to do so will grant you the label, “fucktard”, as I rightly called Ms. Bus_Ticket.

“To the dude spewing his prolific skill set of hate-language on me tonight, liked your scintillating series expose' of tuna sandwiches”

I spewed no hate, I asked her questions. Anyone is free to look at my timeline and judge for his/herself. Oh, and my opinions on tuna sandwiches were explained. Even when the subject is, as she intimated, slight, I am still more deep and intellectual than she is.
In conclusion, let us all pray (oops, that will be a banned word shortly) for Rep. Giffords and her family, the family of 9 year old Christine Green, and all the others involved in this incident. Let’s also place blame on the gunman, Jared Loughner, the sole person responsible for this horror. The irony of those wishing to involve anyone other than this man in this situation and then condemning the political climate as being so hateful should be apparent and regarded as silly.

₁ http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2011/01/09/giffords-longtime-supporter-gun-rights/

Tuna Salad Sandwich Challenge #3: Local.

Today has each of us selecting a local place rumored to have very good tuna salad sandwiches. Tuna. Tuna Salad. Weird, just typing those words makes me feel full. Haha. Tuuuuna. Not something we should really be eating, I think. Poor things, living their lives in the freedom of the sea when BAM caught in a net and they gasp their last breath on the way to our restaurants where we GRIND them up and-

Stacey: I selected A Spot of Tea, a famous place located in Mobile and-

Rob: I'm getting to it. Gotta finish up the introduction after all. Tuna Salad. Tuuuna. There. I'm done. Let's eat tuna AGAIN! WOOOOOOHOOOOO! Brain food! I am psyched!!!

Stacey: Tuna Salad on a croissant with Country Style potatoes: 10.74 with tax. (7.99 sandwich only, 8.79 with tax)

Rob: Tuna Salad "sandwich" with Fries and a Coke: 6.39. 6.95 with tax.












Stacey: As you can see, A Spot Of Tea is a nice place. The atmosphere very pleasant and my guest-

Rob: Billy?

Stacey: I'm sorry. Who?

Rob: Just wondered if you took Free Soup Billy.

Stacey: No, I was accompanied by my lovely sister, known on Twitter as @1meanangel .

Rob: Neat.

Stacey: It was great! Took a while to get there and the sandwich is a bit overpriced for the taste of it, which was just okay. But the staff was friendly and our food arrived in minutes. And the potatoes they served were very good, I liked them better than the sandwich actually.

Rob: Can't wait to see the pics:

Rob: My turn? Okay. Well I went to an out of the way place near the Home Depot and Walmart called Wendy's Old Fashioned. Here is a pic:

Stacey: Wait a minute, that's Wendy's.

Rob: Which is what I said.

Stacey: No, the burger chain!

Rob: Clearly not. Look at the bag. They sell tuna salad sandwiches, not burgers.

Stacey: You had a burger!

Rob: Tuna. Anyway. The tuna was moist and very beefy, the bun fresh and the cheese and bacon a nice compliment to the tuna-ness of the whole burger. The Natural Cut Fries with Sea Salt-

Stacey: Yeah, I've seen the NATIONAL commercial for them.

Rob: I'm surprised our local Wendy's would advertise nationally, but anyway they were nothing special. I don't get the hype. Pics:

Stacey: You suck.

Rob: So what's next? Quiche?

Stacey: Something you don't get tired of eating after 2 days....I'll have to think about it.

Rob: Cool.

Taste

Stacey: 5

Rob: 7

Value

Stacey: 4

Rob: 7

Overall

Stacey: 6.5

Rob: 6.5

Tuna Sandwich Challenge #2: Quizno's.

Today is Quizno's turn. How does THIS national chain do tuna salad? Does their signature "Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm." mean anything? Do they fear Jared? I know I do.

Assisting me in the challenge once again is the infamous Stacey and Sons. They tried to ban her but you can't stop her, you can only hope to contain her. Stacey ordered a Large Tuna Salad on Italian Herb Bread. I got a Small on Rosemary Parmesan Bread. I also got a lil cup of banana peppers and another lil cup of horseradish sauce.

Stacey: 6.99 plus tax. 7.69 total.

Rob: 4.99 plus tax. 5.43 total. peppers and horseradish sauce .49 ea. Grand total: 6.48

Stacey: I don't think I had ever been in a Quizno's before. I liked it. Very nice people work there, especially the cute guy who made our sandwich.

Rob: Never been in a Quizno's? Weird. Then again...

Stacey: The Vegetarian thing, yeah. Never thought to go into a sub sandwich shop.

Rob: I get that. So you got the large and split it with your boys.

Stacey: Yes, and it was quite filling. Shared it with Son and both of us liked the sandwich. Son thought it "delicious" after a thoughtful pause. The bread was too toasted for our liking, some of it was blackened. The tuna salad was just okay. Pics:

Rob: It looks pretty good but you didn't mention the soup. I should add the cost into the-

Stacey: Oh the soup was free.

Rob: Free? No, they charge for it.

Stacey: Well Billy didn't charge us for-
Rob: Billy?

Stacey: That was the name on his nametag. He gave us a cup of chicken noodle soup with our sandwich.

Rob: Because?

Stacey: I don't know. I don't go there usually, don't you get soup for free? Like bread sticks at Olive Garden?

Rob: No. That isn't usual.

Stacey: Well B had some and deemed the soup a bit too salty.

Rob: Oh, well that was probably why good ole Billy-

Stacey: But J said it was delicious. Better than the soup one gets at a grocery store even.

Rob: Oh. Cool.

Stacey: We had an enjoyable time.

Rob: Super. Guess I'll go on about mine. The bread was good, Rosemary Parm is nice, the tuna was a bit dry though and, seriously? Free soup?

Stacey: Yes.

Rob: The tomato slices were better than Panera. Overall quite dry. Glad I had the not free horseradish sauce and peppers to moisten it up with since Isabel, the 67 year old who made my sandwich didn't bother to offer me free soup.

Stacey: I didn't eat it.

Rob: Yeah. Anyway, here are the photos of mine:

Taste:

Stacey: Bread alone; 8.5, tuna brought the whole thing down to 7.

Rob: Dry, 6.

Value:

Stacey: 7.5

Rob: 4. (No free soup)

Overall:

Stacey: 7.5

Rob: 5

Stacey: Another fun time, yes?

Rob: Yup.

Stacey: What's tomorrow?

Rob: Kinda sick of tuna salad.

Stacey: Ooh we should pick a local place!

Rob: Somewhere they put tuna on a burger maybe.

Stacey: HAHA!

Rob: :/

Tuna Salad Sandwich Challenge #1: Panera Bread

I am teaming up with a friend for a series of taste tests. This friend is Stacey and she lives in Southern Alabama. I live in Southern California. So how different would certain foods be two time zones apart? Would one region excel in something the other would not? What about chain eateries versus "mom and pop" places? Not to mention our own personal taste differences. We begin with a sandwich. Not any sandwich, but the tuna salad sandwich. How would Panera Bread prepare it for me in California and for her in Alabama?

Panera Bread Tuna Salad Sandwich

Cost: Stacey; 5.59 plus tax. 6.15 total. Rob; 6.19 total, no tax.

Rob: I was surprised that California, eager to tax virtually everything from water to air to thoughts, DIDN'T tax my sandwich.

Stacey: Weird. Mine was taxed.

Rob: Oh well. Turns out the cost was virtually the same. Let's show yours first.














































Stacey: I ordered the tomato basil bread and asked for extra lettuce. The bread was delicious, soft and fresh. I tasted the tomato and basil, yum, but the edges were tough and hard to chew. It might just be the type of bread, but tough edges are not to my liking. Other than that, the sandwich was excellent. Good tuna salad to bread ratio and lots of fresh lettuce, just as I wanted.
Stacey's son: I like the tough bread. The tough bread is to my liking.

Rob: Well it certainly looks hearty. The lettuce appears healthy and fresh.

Stacey: I asked that they leave out tomatoes. The tomato basil bread was delicious and there was really no need for tomatoes.

Rob: I like fresh tomato slices on my sammich.

Stacey: I gave the chips that came with it to my kids.

Stacey's son: They were crisp and good. The chips were good.

Stacey: I liked the big dll pickle spear they included with it.

Rob: Now let's take a look at mine.





























Rob: I went with their standard tuna sandwich, no alterations. This meant I got Honey Wheat bread and nothing extra. The bread was soft and fresh, the mayo and mustard perfect. I removed my lettuce as I don't eat it and I eventually had to remove the tomato slices as they were raw. The tuna salad I agree was on the sweet side.

Stacey: When I make it at home I don't make it that sweet, but it was fine.

Rob: I agree, though without the pepper yours had, it was still good and there was a lot of it. You get a lot for the money.

Stacey: I'd like your pickle spear.

Rob: You can't have it.

Stacey's son: Did you like the crust?

Rob: No. Not a fan of crusts.

Stacey's son: I enjoy tough bread.

Rob: So overall a good sandwich.

Stacey: Oh I agree. And I called it in, so there was no wait.

Rob: I didn't call ahead but the wait time was less than 4 minutes.

Taste (1-10)

Stacey: 8
Rob: 7.5

Value (1-10)

Stacey: 6
Rob: 6.5

Overall

Stacey: 8
Rob: 7

Final Thoughts:

Stacey: I was full after finishing it and it tasted very good. I think the next sandwich place had better be good in order to compare with this one.

Rob: 6 bucks for a tuna salad sandwich is a bit much but it WAS good and filling. The next place may be Quizno's. See you there.

Stacey: I'll be there!






Evolution

This Christmas has impressed upon me the need to realize that there is a "reason for the season" as the saying goes. It is about Family, Friends, and, yes, Christ. The following is something I wrote as a guest blog post this past February. I thought I'd let you in on some of my thoughts regarding this life and the one beyond. I enjoy discussions such as these so please engage me if you wish.

Darwinian evolution was an unguided, unplanned process of random variation and natural selection. However, evolution via random and gradual mutations can’t explain some very complex biological systems. Contrary to Darwinian evolution, it appears (and is widely accepted by scientists), that biology itself shows signs of a “designer.” This deduction is arrived at via design deduce of the physical structure of a system.

Aspects of biology strongly appear to be designed. Even Richard Dawkins says, “Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose.” (The Blind Watchmaker 1996, p.1) Dawkins doesn’t believe biological structures were a product of intelligent design, but he admits they “overwhelmingly impress with the appearance of design.”

There are structural obstacles to Darwinian evolution, coupled with physical reasons to think that Darwinian evolution can not do what its proponents claim for it. The structural reasons are “irreducible complexity.”

Irreducible complexity contradicts the premise that evolution could operate slowly and gradually one mutation at a time. An irreducibly complex structure cannot evolve that way, for this simple reason: you have some system and it has a number of parts and they act on each other and they are all necessary for the function to exist. You take away one or more of the parts and the function is no longer present.

Think of it this way, and by example, the mousetrap has various parts: a spring, a wire hammer, a catch, a board that holds it all together. Take away any part and you have a meaningless and purposeless collection of parts. There is no way that it could slowly evolve into that complexity.

Another example is a bacterial flagellum. The flagellum is a whip like propeller that a bacterium spins to move. Any part of the flagellum apparatus, without all the rest, is purposeless. Like a mousetrap without one of its necessary parts, this one would be broken as well.

Critics and militant atheist’s responses to irreducible complexity are wishful thinking. They argue that someday they will be able to explain them by random events and such will contradict the designer postulate. Nevertheless, they continue to make grand Darwinian claims as if this evidence already had been discovered. Such claims are urban legends.

Evolution can explain many things, but not everything.

I believe in multi-verses; worlds without number and without end, each of different degrees of glory and far more glorious than that in which we reside.

How utterly horrible would it be, to believe that Life begins, and has its ending, in this temporal sphere. I believe in an Intelligent Designer. One who has my best interest at heart, if only I have Faith. And yes, my faith has evolved. But that is a discussion for another time.

Guest Blog Post #5

This blog post is by my very good friend, Stacey. It is about chronic pain, something I know all too well and I thank her for sharing. Follow her on Twitter at @ALHSMommy please.

Sixteen years ago, a man driving a pickup truck ran a red light and changed my life. I had just eased out into the intersection, when he slammed into the driver’s side door of the car I was driving, totaling my sedan. He walked around my car and talked to me while the firemen worked to free me from the wreckage of my car. After the police gave him a ticket for running a red light, he drove his truck away from the scene of the accident, completely uninjured, and I never heard from him again. His name is Jay Pickle and what follows is what I’d like to say to him.

Mr. Pickle, your one moment of careless behavior completely changed the course of my life. Perhaps you never think of that little mistake you made all those years ago. Most of the time, I don’t think about that day, but I deal with the consequences of your action every hour of every day. In the mornings, I get out of bed in pain, barely able to lift my arms or turn my head. I spend the first hour of every day stretching and soaking my body in a tub of hot water to get to the point I can function as a mother. I have all sorts of neat tricks to get me through a day of taking care of my children, too, and I’m very good at multitasking. For example, I can use an ice pack or a TENS unit while reading to my kids. Sure, it takes me twice as long as other mothers to do every little task. Certainly, I have to stop to rest in the middle of chores or lessons, but I still do it all. You ruined my back, but I didn’t allow you to ruin my life.

Yes, I have children, Mr. Pickle. The doctors were able to repair and save my uterus after you damaged it slamming into my car at 40 mph. My first baby was only six months old at the time. I thank God I had just dropped him off with my sister, because the crash completely ruined his car seat. You would have killed my baby. Six hard years later, and after surgery I was able to have another baby. Two years after that, a miracle happened and I had a third child. The doctors never thought that would be possible, but I am strong and determined, and I did it. The third pregnancy stressed my uterus to the point it could no longer be saved and in 2001, I finally gave in and had a hysterectomy. I am happy and fulfilled with the three children I have, but sometimes I get a yearning to have another baby. That will never happen. You took that option away from me.

With each passing year, my spine gets weaker and more deformed. There is a surgical option, but the risks that it could cripple me are too great. I’m not willing to risk it. So, I live in pain, every minute of every day. I no longer remember what it feels like to not be in pain. I give thanks for days when the pain is relatively mild and I use those days to catch up from the ones I spend barely making it through.

I wonder where you are, Mr. Pickle, and what kind of life you have had. I wonder if I ever cross your mind. I wonder if I’ll ever really forgive you.

Guest Blog Post #4

Here is an insightful and funny piece from Denise Swank. Please enjoy it and you can find her Twitter handle and blog addy at the end of it:

Socially Savvy

Social media is revolutionizing the world. Facebook and Twitter are ways to reach out into the world and connect with target audiences. But what about reaching a closer audience? Like your children?


It's a well known fact teenagers are repulsed at the idea of having an actual conversation. You only have to observe two teens sitting side by side sending each other texts to know this is true. But having a conversation with their mother? Shudder. Yet, we parents need to stay in tuned with our kids, so what are we supposed to do? Tap into their preferred communication technique.


Text messaging.


Lucky for my children, I am social media savvy. (I really want to insert an evil laugh here, yet I will refrain.)


My teens have cell phones, but the rule is if they don’t answer my phone call or text, they better have a REALLY good reason. Like they were driving. Or they were attacked by killer bees. Or they were under general anesthesia donating a kidney to buy my birthday gift.


Last Friday, my 8th grade daughter, Julia, went to the high school football game with friends. I told her to text me when her friend’s mother was bringing them home. What followed was deeply moving, bonding experience between mother and daughter.*


Julia: We’re on our way home


Me: Did you win?


Julia: No, we lost. The other team kicked the ball thru some posts at the end


Me: A field goal?


Julia: You know what a field goal is? Did they have football when you were in school?


Me: Of course. Back in those days we used T Rex bladders for balls. The Brontos' bladders were too big.


Julia:???


Julia: Oh! Abby thought you were funny


Me: See??? I keep telling you I’m funny.


Julia: No, Mom. No


Abby (to me): Ms. Denise you were funny


Julia (to me): Stop you are embarrassing me


Me (to Julia): What about Muffy? All my readers thought she was funny. (flatulent dog from my novel)


Julia: No, Mom


Me: :-P”””


Julia: Huh?


Me: It’s a face! With a tongue hanging out, spitting.


Julia: ?


Me: It’s a VERY sad day when a mother teaches her 13 y/o daughter an emoticon.


Julia: Oh Mom


Abby (to me): that was funny


Julia (to me): MOM!


Me: X-(


Julia: I don’t get it


Me: It’s an angry face. Turn it sideways.


Abby (to me): I see it! That's cool!


Julia (to me): Mom, stop, my friends think you are funny


Me: Oh, the horror! Did you have fun?


Julia: Yeah


Me: Any cute boys?


Julia: MOM! STOP!


(Car pulls into driveway. Julia comes into the house.)


“Now you’ve done it. My friends think you’re cool.” Julia mumbled when she walked in the house.


“Is that a bad thing?”


She gave me a dramatic eye roll as she left the room.


Is there an emoticon for that?


*This text conversation may have been slightly exaggerated for entertainment purposes.

When not tormenting her children, Denise can be found on Twitter as @DeniseMSwank or on very rare occasions, lurking on her own blog http://www.theresalwaysroomforonemore.com

Guest Blog Post #3

I am honored to present a heart-felt post by @SuthernGeekette aka Amy. Follow her on Twitter and visit her at http://sutherngeekette.tumblr.com/

Pregnancy and infant loss awareness day was October 15th prompting me to write this about my own personal experiences.

I think about the children I've lost everyday. I've had two miscarriages. People who have never experienced it sometimes can't comprehend the pain you feel. It is the deepest heartbreak I've ever felt.

My first was over 13 years ago. It was my very first pregnancy. I was about 8 weeks along. I was at work. Without going into graphic detail, suffice it to say, my miscarriage started and I immediately went into denial. My co-workers had to convince me what was happening. I went to the hospital.

Hours later when the ER doctor finally checked me out, he got me in to see the ultrasound technician. She showed me on the screen where the baby had been. I began to cry and shake, coming to terms with what had happened.

She then said, "Wait, you hear that?" I said, "Hear what?" I couldn't hear over my own crying. I took a breath and calmed down. I heard a strange woosh-woosh sound. She smiled at me and said, "That is your OTHER baby's heartbeat." It was the most wonderful sound I had ever heard. In that one moment, I felt grief, love and joy all at the same time.

Seven months later my son was born. He was purple and they had to help him take his first breath but he was alive and healthy. It was a true blessing. And we just celebrated his 13th birthday last week.

The second child that I lost was a lot different. It happened almost nine years after the first. I had been very meticulous about going to the doctor. I had seen my baby on the ultrasound. Looked like a little bean on the screen. I heard that wonderful woosh-woosh sound. They said she had a strong heartbeat. They said she looked good. Everything was fine as far as they could tell. No, they didn't say the baby was a girl, but...I knew she was. I felt it. I was scheduled to come back at 12 weeks. By week 11, I was spotting. I got scared, fast. The doctors worked me in that same day. I went in to get the ultrasound and the technician wouldn't say anything except that she couldn't answer questions. That I would have to talk to my doctor.

Seemed like hours before I got through the rigamarole to finally see my doctor. He told me the baby had died at approximately 10 weeks. I started crying, uncontrollably. He was very patient. He calmed me down enough to talk to me. He explained that it hadn't been anything that I had done. Even though, for some reason, I felt I had. He further explained that sometimes babies just don't develop correctly and that it was probably a breakdown on a cellular level that caused the baby to die. He kept reiterating that it was nothing I had done and for me not to take the blame for something I had no control over. Because I have a bicornuate uterus, it would be too risky to my health to perform a DNC procedure to get the remains of my baby. I would have to let "nature take it's course".

Again, without going into graphic detail, I'll tell you this: that miscarriage took 3weeks to reach completion. Those were the worst 3 weeks of my life. I was motionless as much as possible. I was basically bedridden. My body was slow to finish the miscarriage and my heart broke constantly. Not a moment passed when I wasn't crying and mourning the child I had come to love. I had named her in my mind and in my heart.

She wasn't "just a pregnancy" as I've heard some callous people claim. She was my baby. My child. And I loved her. I still love her and mourn her every moment of every day. She was my Katherine and I miss her deeply.

Guest Blog Post #2

The economy continues to affect many of us negatively. The 2nd guest blogger to appear here this week has thoughts on this subject. You may know her as @Lissy_Kuri and she is one of the first people I Followed on Twitter. Please copy my action and Follow her. And help her with a job, if it's within your power.

The American worker is said to be the backbone of our nation. Yet today many go unemployed. Or overworked and underpaid. To say the least, I am one of these workers. Work long hours never get that "pat on the back" and suddenly after working with a company they let me go. No explanations, just goodbye. Is it my fault for having a lack of education, my middle class family told me from when I turned 16, "miha ( daughter ) you need to get a job." Then after graduation, 19, "miha, you need to go to college, but we can't pay for it." Yet I did it, for a little while anyway. Working 40 hours then going to school for 20 was hard. After a while it got expensive. Then my parents said, "miha you need to help with the bills." So there I was, 22, working full time,.going from one dead end job to another, with no end in sight.

This is the fate of many young people today, working at food chains, and other customer service jobs. Not that there is anything wrong with an honest day's work. But at some point your experience is higher than a college degree, then you be come typecast as only working in the retail industry. You find you have to fill out applications and work alongside teenagers. Then wonder how did I get to this point. What other choice do I have, go back to school and get high interest student loans then after I get my degree become part of another problem with having a large debt that I won't be able to be rid of until I'm in my 40's?

Guest Blog Post #1

This week's first guest blogger is @1BlondeWonder, as she is known on the Twitters. She has decided to post on a topic I gave to those who were wondering what to blog about; what does Twitter mean to you? She's a lot of fun and I recommend you Follow her immediately:

Twitter

Twitter means different things to different people. I joined twitter to help take my mind off of a breakup. I needed the distraction, it didn’t make me feel better but it sure kept me occupied. It was strange at first, figuring it all out but it didn’t take long to learn the rules, there really aren’t any. I was fascinated by all these people who were somewhere in the world conversing at the same place and at the same time.

My first twitter friend was April. Even over the internet waves I knew I liked her, cyber chemistry. It wasn’t long before other friends came along. How do you explain twitter to someone who’s never heard of it or ever tried it? It’s a way to connect even when you feel disconnected. They can’t understand how relationships can form, but they do. There are many people who I have met who I would love to meet in real life. I know of several people whose relationships have carried over into the real (outside) world. There’s someone for everyone on twitter, to agree or disagree.

How many celebrities have I talked to? It’s crazy! How else could that ever happen, communicating in real time talking to them about whatever? It doesn’t. It’s a whole new way to connect and you either get it or you don’t. It has opened up a whole new world for me, a place to go when you feel isolated, a place to chat, share ideas, and expand your views. Incredible.

Guest Blog Post Details

So you want to rent space here, huh? Got something to say? Want to vent over here, in the corner of the internet where the dustbunnies thrive? Well have at it! It's free of charge and oh so easy to do. Here are the details:

• Offer open to anyone who has something to say.
• No minimum or maximum word count.
• I ask that there be no excessive profanity or sexuality.
• You may have your post entered as "anonymous"
• Please have your post to me sometime within the week of October 18th..
• Submit your post to my email at robjohnson22@gmail.com
• The sooner the better!

That's it. I eagerly await your nimble and intriguing posts in my email box. Have fun!

Begging

The business where I spend my time serving humanity and collecting a huge paycheck has a large parking lot located near one of the main streets that run through my hometown. Hint: it's name is NOT Main St.!! During breaks and lunch periods I spend time in my truck in this very parking lot, listening to classical music, eating healthy salads and concocting snooty lies about the kinds of things I do in my truck during breaks and lunch periods. At least once a week I am approached by beggars. They walk up to the window, wait for me to roll it down and turn down the volume on the local rap station and ask for money, food, or money. Mainly money. Whatever I can spare. Please.

How do you deal with people who approach you asking for spare change? Do you have a no tolerance policy? Do you give every time you are asked? Do you gauge the character of the person asking you before deciding to help?

My truck has a section near the gear shift for change and I keep pennies, nickels, dimes, and, how did you guess? quarters there. I usually reach down and tell whoever that all I have is a quarter. Will this really help someone out? Or does it do more for me by assuaging any guilt over the unfairness of the situation? When I am on lunch and have some spare snack on the seat beside me available, I suppose I could offer it to the individual. "Here, have a Pringles Potato Crisp." doesn't seem like much of a solution. Perhaps keeping a deli sandwich in a cooler for such occassions would be far more fitting. Should I do that?

This blog post was inspired by an incident from yesterday morning that I cannot get to leave my head. At 5:55am a slightly haggard woman approached my truck. It was far too early for this, I thought, and pretended to suddenly find something on the roof of my truck extremely interesting. Through my peripheral vision, I spotted her raising something and, fearing a weapon, I decided to look at her. In her hand was a photo. The color photo showed a large Mexican male, bald, with a bushy mustache, dressed in a sleeveless white T-shirt and white cargo shorts. He was standing near a brick wall with an air of weariness about him. I rolled down my window.

The woman, in English with a slight Spanish accent explained, slowly and without hesitation, that the man in the photo was her husband. They had 4 children together all of whom she was caring for because he was taken to Mexico. She wanted anything I could spare in order to hire a "coyote" who would bring her husband across the border so he could help her feed her children.

Quite a story. I believed her. She appeared earnest. A potato chip probably wouldn't have helped. Nor a sandwich. A quarter then? Her plan seemed to entail quite a cost. Would a dollar be enough? 5 dollars? 10? Or... wait. We are talking illegal immigration here. She wanted me to support, with my money, an act of illegal immigration. But there were children involved, weren't there? This was now an issue of humanity, not law. Right? What would it take for you to walk parking lots before 6am, asking for spare change from whoever you came across? Would you do this without hesitation, for your husband? For your children?

I won't tell you what I did, how I responded. What would you have done?

But here is an odd thing. I am attaching relevance to it that may not be appropriate. Something happened today at lunch break. In my truck, reading the Wall Street Journal, I put the paper down and stared ahead, pondering, not focusing on anything. Motion on the ground outside my window attracted my attention. A small, chubby bird was looking at me. I don't know bird types at all, but let's say it was a wren, because "wren" is a great Scrabble word. This wren hopped closer looking AT me. Waiting.

The damned bird was begging. And not for a quarter or for help in getting her wren husband out of a zoo in Mexico either. I was pretty sure. I cracked the window enough to throw something out at the bird. She hopped away a little. Then looked at the busy street. Then back at me, as if letting me know the coast was clear and to toss out the bit of food or whatever I had to give her. I took a potato chip and tossed it out the window as hard as I could. It curved down to the ground and cracked in two. She looked at me. Hopped over. Looked around, then back at me. She picked up a half in her beak and chewed rather quickly, if it can even be described as chewing". She looked at me again, her little bird face tilted slightly, as if trying to memorize my face. She picked up the other, larger half of the chip and hopped a bit before flying away.

This would be where I tie the two events together. How we are all, man and beast, reliant on one another. How sometimes we need to beg for what we need. Hard times eventually grace us all and no man is an island. We are the world. I am my brother's keeper and all that. No one gets out of this world alone and people NEED people and so on and so forth. But I won't do that. That would be cheesy. If I was being taught something by Someone larger than myself, well, that's not for me to bore YOU with. You get to go through this life in your own skin. And you get to give or not give to beggars as you see fit. And when you are in need they are free to treat you the way they wish.

Maybe when I need help, someone will toss me a potato chip, I will memorize their face, and thank them in my own way.

Overturning Prop 8 is bad for everyone, even Gay Rights Supporters

On August 4th, U.S. District Judge Vaughn R. Walker declared California's ban on same-sex marriage unconstitutional based on federal constitutional grounds. California "has no interest in differentiating between same-sex and opposite-sex unions" he said in his 136-page ruling. Vaughn said the ban violated the federal constitutional guarantees of equal protection and of due process.

More facts:

Proposition 8

Yes 6,838,107 52.3%

No 6,246,463 47.7%

Total votes 13,084,570 100.00%
Voter turnout 79.42%

So here's where the cheers went up, the Gay Rights Supporters, who were crushed when Prop 8 was passed, were now jumping up and down with glee. Supporters of the Proposition were crushed, wondering what happened. Something simple happened. A self-serving creep in black robes decided he would decide what was right. HE would nullify the wishes of nearly 7 million voters by overturning this Proposition. HIS vote was more important than 7 million people. One man, one vote? Not to Judge Walker.

This issue is shrouded by the nature of the subject. Gay Marriage is a hot button issue and emotions tend to get in the way of intellect. Let's remove the issue at hand, or, better yet, reverse it. Say the Proposition was defeated and Gay Marriage was passed in 2008. Now, stick with me here, imagine a heterosexual judge (Judge Vaughn Walker is a homosexual) overturning the decree based on a constitutional something-or-other. NOW are the Gay Rights advocates cheering? Doubtful.

A Proposition goes through tests of constitutionality before it is placed on a ballot. Proposition 8 passed this test. A majority of voters agreed with the stated goals of Proposition 8. This majority voted for its approval yet one person, one judge, decided he would thwart the will of the people. Take the sensitive nature of the Proposition out of the equation. A majority of the populace voted for something and one judge took it upon himself to deny this vote. Is this not a dangerous precedent? Should we not be outraged that one activist judge believes he can alter the vote of nearly 7 million Californians instead of celebrating this particular initiative? What if next time a judge overturns something YOU and the majority of your area voted for fair and square based on some loophole. If you celebrate this single judge's decision then you will have no right to rail against the next judge who places him or herself above the voters.

You see, it doesn't matter what the subject is. My point is that a grave miscarriage of justice happened on August 4th and it is being lost within a debate about whether two men or two women should have a right to get married*. Next up will be a decision by California's 9th Circuit Court of Appeals, a liberal institution that will, likely, approve of Judge Walker's decision. From there the U.S. Supreme Court will take it on. My prediction is that they will overturn it by a vote of 5-4. This entire circus will have gone on far too long and proven dangerous to our democracy. Try to look past the Gay Rights/Support of Marriage aspect of this situaion. There is a larger point here. Please consider it.

*California is one of the few states in which gay partners are granted all the civil rights of a married couple by the way.

Can baseball be perfected? With my plan, yes it can.

"I just cost that kid a perfect game. I thought he beat the throw. I was convinced he beat the throw - until I saw the replay" -Jim Joyce

On June 2nd, in a baseball game between the Detroit Tigers and the Cleveland Indians, Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga had a Perfect Game going until the last out of the game when First Base Umpire Jim Joyce mistakenly called runner Jason Donald safe after Donald hit a grounder to First Base. Replays showed that Galarraga, covering at first, got the throw from Miguel Cabrera and touched the base a stride ahead of Donald, but Joyce inexplicably called Donald safe. Galarraga retired the next batter for a one-hitter that should have been perfect.

Both men handled the situation with class. The incident is a paragon for sportsmanship. However, let's face it, things need to be changed to make this sort of mistake impossible. I hereby give Major League Baseball permission to use any and all of the following ideas to "perfect" a game that is losing viewers faster than BP is losing market shares.

The human element in baseball is responsible for the blown calls and mistakes. Get rid of them. No more Umpires or Referees. Ditch them.

In their place, use technology. Infrared sensors can be calibrated so that Balls and Strikes can be called with incredible accuracy. Hey, they have it in tennis, right? Well, okay they don't, but they should. I will get around to fixing tennis next week.

In every ballpark install crazy lights on the foul poles. When a ball flies between the poles they light up in whatever team colors of the hitter who hit the home run. If the ball hits the pole and goes foul, no lights. Hit it and it goes fair, LIGHTS!

How about when a runner slides into a base and the ball reaches the mitt/glove of the player covering that base at what appears to be the same time? Sensors in the base and mitt/glove are instantaneously beamed to somewhere and computers do whatever they do and lights or sounds or something go off if the runner is either safe or out. I am an idea man, not a details man. Someone needs to figure out exactly what happens with this one, but you get the idea. SENSORS!

A questionable catch by an outfielder? Did he trap the ball or legitimately catch it? How about sensors in the glove and ball? Some tech company out there specializing in sensors will reap quite a large pile of money if my plan goes through.

I can't think of any other problem that can't be fixed by sensors. And you baseball purists out there; your sport is dying. Attendance is down, kids are watching football and basketball. The games take 3 days to finish. So don't get all huffy about my proposed changes. Your game is decided in ballparks in which the dimensions are not the same, the distances to Left, Right, and Center fields, etc. One league has a Designated Hitter, the other doesn't. The park in Seattle has a frigging HILL in the field, and you're gonna tell me this game is fair? Football and basketball games are played, universally, on fields and courts where the dimensions and rules are always the same. So embrace my sensors. EMBRACE MY SENSORS!

And give the kid, Galarraga, his perfect game. Don't let him be the only player in history to get 28 outs in a single game.

This post was inspired by a conversation I had on the Twitter with @twin2tim a great guy who helped me see the passion he has for the things he loves, baseball and human error being among them.

What Would Jesus Be Arrested For?

Much has been made of Arizona's State Law regarding illegal immigration, and its supposed racist undertones. I was amused to find a blog post, to use the loosest terms, regarding the thought that Jesus, were He to have occasion to walk around Arizona today, would find Himself in the back seat of a State Trooper's Cruiser. I thought this to be a piece of fluff however there are those who think this is some mighty deep commentary and cross their arms and sport a smug smile as if, ha HA, well now THAT has been settled, when, truth be told, their ignorant and misplaced analogy simply shows them to be silly at best, and stupid at worst. Below is the poster the blog post references:



The contention is that Jesus looks like an immigrant and would, therefore, be arrested. This is in direct opposition to the Law as written. Police may not pull over or contact any person for looking a certain way. Another violation must be suspected and then and only then may proper identification as a U.S. citizen be asked for.

Jesus would not break the law and would therefore have any papers necessary to be in the country legally. The U.S. border laws are necessary and anyone in the country illegally has committed a crime. Arizona's decision to actually enforce these laws is therefore practical and necessary. Those inserting Jesus Christ into the argument show their ignorance in both how the Son of God operates and how illegal immigration is crippling the economy of the U.S., border states especially.

The post also characterizes the law as "racist" yet no proof is given, in terms of numbers or raw data: typical of an author or authors who only seek to titillate and not educate. The site DOES, however, make yet another claim to scripture, providing a link to another "blog post" wherein Leviticus 19:33-34 is cited and again the smug countenance of the ignoramuses is implied. The verses state as follows:

When an alien lives with you in your land, do not mistreat him. The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt.

Typical of those who skim the Bible and interpret it to their own purposes, the verses quoted have a different meaning than the authors perhaps intended.

In this instance the word, "alien", or, stranger, is synonymous with the word "ger", which is a term for a non-Jewish person wishing to convert to Judaism. Therefore, from the start, an illegal immigrant being compared to a stranger (ger) is incorrect. A ger wishes to become converted, and when he comes to "live with you" he is taking upon him the laws of the land, unlike the illegal immigrant. A ger must not be mistreated and once converted "living with you" he is to be treated as one of you, as the Naturalization Process that immigrants who wish to abide here legally must do. So we see that the point being made by those who want the Laws regarding Immigration ignored has no basis in the scripture being quoted and, if you ask me, makes the opposite point.

Those concocting this abysmal failure of an analogy should not feel as if they have made a great point but rather that they have revealed their ignorance of both the Law as written and theology 101. I urge them to read the Law. It is not long. It makes sense. And it is far more fun to debate someone who has actually brought some intelligence to the table rather than toss off ineffective analogies that others can see through very easily.

Water Flows At Different Levels

A short story that occurred to me the other night when sleep alluded me. I can't say that I wish to explain any of it. Take it however you wish.

Water Flows At Different Levels

You go awhile not noticing it. A long while and you don’t see it until one day you become aware of some sort of dam that is now one entire side of your house. Maybe not a proper dam, but there’s something there and it is definitely holding something back. You don’t tell anyone about this, you don’t alert anyone to it and since no one else is noticing it, there’s nothing to tell, really, is there?

There’s definitely a pressure behind it. You sense this though it isn’t transparent. You feel it. And one day there is a leak. A small one. You press a finger to it and a clear, cool liquid appears. You taste it and it tastes very good. It makes you smile. Over time the trickle becomes a leak. Soon you are filling a cup with the liquid and it quenches a thirst you had. But it’s getting on the floor. You can clean it easily. No one notices the puddle.

Some days it leaks badly and you’re annoyed. Other times the trickle doesn’t seem adequate. So you take an ice pick to it one day and a lot of the cool water comes out. Too much. You need to stop it before the excess moves from room to room, staining everything. Soon it will be noticeable and the source will be discovered. It is almost too much to clean up. You plug the gap and clean it. Your panic soon leaves you and calmness settles in. No one will notice. And the leak has been taken care of.

Time passes.

Fingers caress the dam. Sweet water trickles again. You touch your lips to it, remembering. Smiling. Wishing you could swim in it. Immerse yourself within.

You are still the only one who senses the pressure there and it doesn’t seem likely to burst, ruining your home. You’re quite certain it won’t. And this comforts you and saddens you both at the same time. But you’re glad it’s there.

At least you think it’s there. After tending to other things you are surprised to find it has vanished. You had come to take the dam as a given, its presence always there to slake your thirst as you wished. Where would it go, after all? You search, fingers sliding over cabinets, appliances, and a wall, but there is nothing more. It is gone. As abruptly as it arrived, it has vanished. You stand there for awhile. Mystified.

Then you turn and walk towards the waterfall that occupies the den. Who needs a trickle when you have always had that waterfall to wash over you? After a time, the dam and its slow trickle is no match for the feelings the cascading water is giving you.

And you forget.

They Enter The Car

Here's a short story I wrote this past week, finishing it today. I am intrigued by spaces and how we occupy them and how they reoccur sometimes, over and over. Our car is one such space where we spend so much time, yet don't really focus on it. Comments, even anonymous, always appreciated.

They Enter The Car

They enter the car. They enter the car, a family now, he driving, she holding Son. They enter the car, beaming at new life. They enter the car, he smiling and driving, she making faces at the baby in the car seat. They enter the car, toys and trash and stains and crying and yelling. They enter the car, the toddler angry, always angry. They enter the car, he driving, Mother holding baby Daughter. They enter the car, Son being told not to be rough with his sister. They enter the car, a newer one, New Car Smell, two toddler smell. They enter the car, no longer new seeming. McDonald’s fries, hard and cold to the touch, between seats, a ketchup stain on the roof. They enter the car going to school. They enter the car, baseball gear in the back, parts of a Barbie Doll, Lego blocks, candy wrappers, chocolate shake stains on the floor. They enter the car without Son and Daughter, going out, alone. Relief and anticipation jockey for first place in the pantheon of this experience. They enter the car with a box of leftovers from the restaurant placed gently on the backseat. They enter the car, fresh from a play hosted by the local community college; a performer sits in the backseat, the one not occupied by the box of leftover linguini. She chatters on about her role in the play and they listen, eagerly, before they drop her off at her Stepfather’s house. Once alone, they kiss, Mother and Father, pretending it is High School again.
They enter the car for Son’s driving test; he is anxious, but confident. They enter the car, son and Driving Instructor, he obeying most of the traffic laws, and thereby passing. They enter the car, Mother and Son, the latter driving, the former pressing her foot into the bare floorboard, stomping on an imaginary brake pedal, though not at all conscious of her action. They enter the car, Father and Mother, angry at one another for no reason either could specify were they to have to. They enter the car, Son and date, each tingling with excitement as they drive to the party. They enter the car, slightly buzzed, driving a short distance away before parking and clumsily engaging in a sex act. Then, after, they walk along the edge of the woods, holding hands, in the moonlight.
They enter the car, Daughter and three friends; a shiny new laminated Driver’s License in her purse, cell phone in her hand. Girls shrieking, girls yelling, girls giggling, girls texting. Daughter drifts into the lane of oncoming traffic, overcorrects and, tires squealing, the car flips over several times, landing in a field. All girls are hurt, one critically. They enter the car, somberly, the family dressed in black, Daughter arm in splint, to go to Erin’s funeral, as the critical injuries proved fatal. No one has a cell phone in their hand.
They enter the car to see Son’s new place. They enter the car, loaded with Son’s items, to take to his new place. They enter the car to go to Daughter’s wedding. They enter the car to see Son’s new baby boy, their grandchild. They enter the car, with a newly installed car seat for Grandson to sit in. They enter the car with Grandson firmly placed in the car seat, Mother making faces at the baby in the car seat. They enter the car, three grandchildren now, raucous, loud, and pleasant to Mother and Father. They enter the car to take Grandchildren back to Son and Daughter’s respective places, relieved they don’t have to spend all day every day with them. They enter the car, Mother and Father dressed to attend Father’s Retirement Party. Music is low and Mother talks non-stop. Father stares straight ahead, driving, not talking; only thinking of the past.
They enter the car, Father helps Mother into the passenger side of the car, as she is still weak from the chemotherapy. Before the drive is through, the faint smell of vomit is detected and the bag the hospital gave them is half full. They enter the car, Son driving Father to see Mother at the Extended Care Facility, he and Daughter make small talk but Father is silent and solemn. He does not show any particular expression.
They enter a car, Son and his Family. They enter a car, Daughter and her Family. The two cars drive to the funeral parlor, to arrange their parent’s burials. Father passed away in his sleep almost one week after Mother died in the hospital. They enter the car, the long car, the long black car, made especially for one lying in repose, Mother and Father each get one, both followed, slowly, by many other cars, headlights on, though it is daylight. Their destination is the final one for Mother and Father.
The cars change color and form, as do the passengers and drivers, and they leave the cemetery to go to houses, restaurants, and stores, sometimes entire families sometimes alone, and sometimes distracted, they enter the cars.