Tagged: men
The Dumbest Sentence You Will Read This Week
Keep in mind, taking a moment to review this sentence isn’t an exercise in futility. Instead, try to think of it like a crossword puzzle, word search, or Word Jumble. Better yet, think of it like one of those mensa questions, “How many words can you make out of the letters in the name, ‘Peter Piper’?” As in, “How many inconsistencies can you find with the reasoning inherent to this sentence’s claim(s)?” And then divide that number by the number value your highest completed grade (ie 3 for 3rd grade, 16 for an ungrad degree completed in 4 years etc). Whoever has the highest number wins.
Here’s the doozy:
Experts estimate that nearly half of pregnancies are unintended, so limits to abortion access could affect the number of births.
Happy Hunting!
Flattery for Women. Like in This Post I Am Complimenting a Woman. Seriously.
Women don’t get “a pass” in my book. People who know me truly, know this about me truly.
The “compliment” that I read in a book and inspired this post is great (still included at the end), but in truth, “Women don’t get ‘a pass’ in my book,” (my hook for the post) is actually about the best compliment I could ever pay y’all.
You’re not weak; you’re not “special” in some “need extra allowances” sort of way. Dishes are dirty after you do them, same as men. You can figure out how to pull into a garage correctly, same as men. Wooden utensils still get ruined when left to soak absentmindedly in the sink for long periods of time. Some ice cream scoops are not dishwasher safe, for me and for you too. Kids don’t learn obedience only from fathers. Neither do they learn strength and steely character only from fathers. You do not get a pass, women. Hear me?
The following comes from Jack London’s short story, “The Wisdom of the Trail.” Sitka Charley is an injun, back when there were those. As for nearly all London tales, the setting is the great white Northlands. The only two words I would add is, “…land…sea…and air!”
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“Sitka Charley did not know this kind of woman. Five minutes before, he did not even dream of taking charge of the expedi-tion; but when she came to him with her wonderful smile and her straight clean English, and talked to the point, without pleading or persuading, he had incontinently yielded. Had there been a softness and appeal to mercy in the eyes, a tremble to the voice, a taking advantage of sex, he would have stiffened to steel; instead her clear-searching eyes and clear-ringing voice, her utter frankness and tacit assumption of equality, had robbed him of his reason. He felt, then, that this was a new breed of woman; and ere they had been trail mates for many days he knew why the sons of such women mastered the land and the sea, and why the sons of his own womankind could not prevail against them. Tender and soft! Day after day he watched her, muscle-weary, exhausted, indomitable, and the words beat in upon him in a perennial refrain. Tender and soft! He knew her feet had been born to easy paths and sunny lands, strangers to the moccasined pain of the North, unkissed by the chill lips of the frost, and he watched and marveled at them twinkling ever through the weary day.”
Some Days Are Dark
H- hasn’t spoken to me since boldly declaring to me on a random phone call (why don’t kids know how to use the phone?) that she wasn’t coming to Christmas and didn’t understand why I wasn’t “getting it”.
I don’t stop believing in Jesus on dark days. Yet I cannot deny that there is an appeal to giving up on god and all–that is part of the darkness.
But I will unashamedly confess that on dark days, days when I take inventory of my life only to realize more fully that there has been a general lack of support (social, financial, or emotional) from anyone ever remotely falling under the umbrella of “family”, I do conclude god is unknowable.
Defense of My Understanding of AI
And I quote, “In a wide-ranging interview on X Spaces that suffered multiple technology glitches, Musk also told Norway wealth fund CEO Nicolai Tangen that AI was constrained by the availability of electricity and that the next version of Grok, the AI chatoot from his XAl startup, was expected to be trained by May.”
Once more, same article, “But he added that while a shortage of chips were a big constraint for the development of AI, electricity supply will be crucial in the next year or two.”
Recall my definition, “AI is mankind’s ability to sense electricity—and nothing more.”
You can bicker with me, and quibble, but it changes nothing. AI is mankind’s ability to sense electricity—and nothing more.
But be afraid!!! Be very afraid!!! The bogeyman is on his way! AI is coming for your job! It’s coming for your wife! It will fight us in the next war! In fact, the war is already being waged!! Muhaahaha!
On Baptist Preachers Continuing the Invitation
Not because I can’t or wouldn’t or won’t share the gospel—including asking the question, “Have you decided to follow Jesus?” with my kids, but I really want my family to join me in attending a small-ish Baptist church which still sees the preacher invite the congregation to salvation before concluding the service. “Why?” you ask. “Why, Pete? Why go backwards? Everyone knows that denominations are dying/dead, and never to return. They are a failed experiment. It’s non-denominational, one-church-multiple-campuses-small-groups-for-those-interested-and-no-invitation-messages from here on out.”
I’ll tell you why. And this is close to the heart, so please go easy on me. I want my family to join me at the Baptist church because the invitation is my answer to the infamous “how do you know you’re saved?” zinger of a question.
Many, many Sundays of my childhood and youth, and nearly every time I heard the invitation ever since, Sunday after Sunday after Sunday (if I was in a Baptist church), I knew it was directed specifically to me. I knew I was the sinner. I knew I needed salvation. I knew Jesus was the way, the truth, and the life. Moreover, I knew I couldn’t hide behind anyone, nor did I want to hide. I wanted salvation. Who wouldn’t?
For most of my life, I have not treated this response as anything noteworthy or indicative of eternal spiritual matters. I had accepted Jesus Christ as my lord and savior at a young age and was baptized later on and the rest of these times I chalked up the feeling to “powerful preaching.”
As I have gotten older, as fewer people come forward, I have to say that it seems like most people don’t take the invitation as a literal invitation.
But as a father, I take my young daughter (A- this time, H- in times past) and the two of us sit there, and I imagine what H- and my step-son, both 14 and not present—would think during the invitation. Would they think, “My parents are good (believers), so I am too.” Or, “He’s not talking to me. This is just the end of the service.” Or maybe, “My phone, my phone, my phone, my phone…”?
I honestly cannot imagine them saying, “Uh, I am a sinner. I need Jesus. Dad, what do I do?” in any capacity. Mostly, that just seems in line with the more rare emotions, like achieving a lifelong goal, that I can’t imagine what it might look like. But we all talk such nonsense, so much of the time, that it feels fair for a kid to say, “Oh. You were serious about that? I thought that was just part of the ritual.”
Anyhow, we’ll see what the family decides to do. As for me, I am redeemed by the blood of the lamb, no turning back. So I’ll see you at the Baptist church.
The Interesting News I Want to Read About Trump 2024
No news articles, op/eds, or even letters to the editors about Trump 2024 satisfy.
The cycle has been on repeat since before 2016. Nobody has anything new to say. In sum, …just kidding. I wouldn’t be so cruel as to repeat it once again.
Instead, I would like to offer and record my fantasy. Unbelievable as it is, despite all the coverage of Trump since before I was born, I want more. Isn’t that crazy? Crazy, but true.
This fantasy of mine isn’t knowing the outcome of the election ahead of time. It isn’t knowing some more details about Jan 6 that keep exonerating him of any wrongdoing or learning about more indictments which he uniformly evades unscathed or hearing more locker room talk that is fairly tame compared to any group of sporting men I have ever been among.
My fantasy is that some professional writer or journalist will research and write a long-form article about why and how Trump has consistently caused the news itself to resort to lying. Why do they lie?
Whether democracy can recover is boring. Whether Trump becomes worse than Hitler is boring. Whether Trump commits adultery is boring. But, for me, how one man caused every single journalist to lie is endlessly fascinating. Isn’t it?
From his political opponents who maliciously lie, to the mainstream journalists who lie to protect us, to his fan base who inflate every assertion into coming-of-Christ evangelism, the entire industry is unable to report the truth. Why?
I don’t know for sure. But I’m interested to learn.
Euphemism vs. Metaphor, A Joint Review of Collateral by Michael Mann and Parasite by Bong Joon-ho
Parasite is the more timely film, that’s certain. It also is the more biblical film of the two—so much so that it is fairly difficult to understand how it was ever mentioned by a wealthy person, let alone the winner of Best Picture. Albert Schweitzer’s “Men simply don’t think” is probably behind its uncommon success.
I have been putting off re-watching Collateral because with TGM and MI:42, and recent viewings of some easy to watch other TC fav’s, I had to do something in order to stop short of total devotion to the man. But last night I could feel the mood for a movie ebbing my way and I do love Michael Mann. Suddenly, however, a voice from outside myself sounded.
“Can I watch with you?”
It was my 14yo step-son. And it was at his bedtime, the very reason we stopped reading. In other words, I was taken aback at this development. Come to find out, tomorrow was no school.
“Uh. I wasn’t planning to watch a kid’s movie. But I guess we can take a look and see if there’s a compromise on Prime.”
There wasn’t.
“Sorry, man. I just don’t want to sit through a bad movie and I had already set my heart on a rated-R film. We’ll watch something this weekend. So that’ll have to do.”
I was racking my brain to determine just what made villainous TC a film for adults only. The violence was elite, but not gory. And there wasn’t even that much of it. As far as I could recall I wasn’t even sure what I liked about the movie so much. The problem that I have in these situations (deciding whether a movie is appropriate for uninitiated folks ), though, is I have been very wrong in the past. So I trusted my experience over my memory and did not think twice about my decision as I pressed play.
Elite is the word I would use again to describe Collateral. I like the “clean” aspect of that euphemism to “the best”. Then I remembered that’s what I like so much about it. It is no unstable hand at the teller. Whoever made the film had a story to tell and the power to demand it be told with precision. Every scene says as much.
But there is also a depth to the story that elite does not capture. And this is the rated-R part that I am glad I did not share with my step-son.
While Parasite puts wealthy people on blast, that film doesn’t dive below the surface, below macro-level societal questions. Collateral, on the other hand, has a cab driver and an attorney believably find reason to relate about whether they enjoy their work.
“Do you like what you do?”
What a simple question. And what a terrible question.
Terrible because of what you feel as you read this now. Terrible because if you confess that you do not like what you do, you next are forced to admit just what that implies. Maybe you are lying and do like what you do? Maybe you love misery? Maybe you are hiding an addiction that prevents you from doing something you like? Maybe you are lying to yourself about moving on to something you would enjoy someday? We could go on. And that’s the point.
Parasite is a metaphor. But Collateral is a euphemism. Parasite must be kept from the children because of the blood and gore and other adult scenes. Collateral must be kept from the children because Santa Claus is real, because Machiavelli cannot win.
Parasite must have that name to be great. Collateral must have that name to be attempted. But it really should be called, ‘Every Day You Prove You Are Meaningless’.” And since that issue is still up for debate, (unlike, Parasite’s, “Do wealthy people view the rest of us as parasites?” (answer: sure do)), then euphemism and Michael Mann win this battle.
I Need Security: Harmless Stupid vs. Insecure Stupid
Everyone knows there is a distinction between “stupid” and “ignorant”. The main difference being “stupid people who mean well” are different than “stupid people”. And we call “stupid people who mean well” “ignorant”.
In my experience, I have come to see one other division of the general category of “stupid”. I see “harmless stupid” as most humor and silly assumptions that do not negatively affect life, even if they do hinder success. One example of this that comes to mind is misattributing cause and effect—not ignorantly—but harmlessly. Like when the regularly scheduled sprinkler system goes off during the outdoor church service and people attribute it to the devil doing devil things. They aren’t ignorant of the situation, they just are stupid.
Different from this kind of stupid is the kind which causes insecurity in life. One easy example of this would be alcoholic parents. They may be great parents most of the time, but the weekly or monthly instances of uncontrollable outbursts or whatever particular scenes unfold (kids trying to wake up passed-out parents etc.) leads to insecurity in life.
With me? Make sense?
Routine, even if for harmlessly stupid reasons, is still secure. “Every Monday after dinner my parents drove exactly the number of miles as the calendar date. I never understood why. Still don’t. But we got ice cream afterwords and it was fun overall.” That’s a bizarre and stupid routine, but it is not problematic.
Put another way, and to get to the point of this post, I value security over intelligence.
Moreover, I do not believe that stupidity is necessarily insecure.
What I am not certain about is if I am actually right. All I know today is that I need security.
My wife hails from one of the most uneducated regions, continents, and countries on the Earth. While dating, I noted many harmlessly stupid comments and observations. (This was/is not too different than any other day, or any other interaction with folks.)
Little anecdotes about “everyone there believes all Americans are rich” were cute to hear and even carried an air of “why would they believe otherwise if the only source was Hollywood films?” intentionally-sympathetic soundness. Couple this with the fact that no educated American wants to admit the reality that, “What you just said is completely without thought at a level that is beyond ignorance and evidences some mixture of mental laziness and legitimate inability to think”—especially if the conversant is BIPOC.
To be clear—I have witnessed first-hand many, many American friends hear my wife tell the same anecdotes and they all respond the same way, ie, no one calls out what each of us plainly hears. And why not?
I cannot answer for anyone but myself, and my no-call was because I believed there was harmless stupidity.
But the other kind, the stupidity which leads to insecurity, that is now something I am dealing with every day. And I don’t know how to right the ship. I don’t know how to course correct.
Readers might offer advice about the big things, like kindness, compassion, empathy. And I wanted to believe those exist, but have slowly been convinced that those are culturally-based postures and so the problem in this culture-clash-called-my-family is not resolved.
So far, my solution has been to try “let’s start with truth” and go from there. “Could we agree to say true things?” But the language barrier is such that even this seemingly simple request relies tremendously on ignoring reality and relying on hopeful intentions.
He said: “What did you buy?”
She said: “Groceries.”
So far so good.
He said: “What is this item?”
She said: “Oh, underwear.”
Setback.
He said: “In your culture is ‘underwear’ in the same category as ‘food and soap’ and other things that we use up?”
She said: “It’s wrong to buy underwear now?!!”
So even something as supposedly universal as “truth” seems out of reach.
Of course, the easy solution is to resign. To simply not care. To “let go and let God”. To choose a “non-fighting” version of “peace” as the higher ground in every moment of every day. But the problem with that is I tell the truth. I don’t tell it in a “I’m just keeping it one hundred” provocateur kinda way (mostly not at least). I just need my words to mean things, and I need my kids to mean the same things when they say the same words.
In other words, I need security.
Teacher Emails in 2024: Grandparents Don’t Know, But Now You Do
It was Facebook, yes? That was the first hegemonic message board of the internet? Some college kids using the latest radio to communicate—and it was free in the main sense?
Twenty-odd years later, college kids (now called teachers) use apps, like “ParentSquare” or “Gradelink” and there are others, I’m sure, to deliver messages to parents. Keep in mind, when we were kids, parents would hear directly from teachers a total of “near never”. Seriously. When did any of your teachers speak directly with your mom or dad? Parent teacher conferences offered an opportunity for the conversation to take place, but the parents had to show up. Some did, some did not. No big thing.
In 2024, teachers, at least two a day, post updates on these apps. Read that again. I’m telling you that on average two teachers each write messages to parents each and every day. The number of messages is staggering. By my thinking, the only parallel to draw is when someone that is lying talks on and on. Total time and energy spent creating and communicating the lie far outweighs whatever the lie is meant to conceal. But the words keep pouring out.
Let’s get to it. Here is the doozy that I received yesterday. (Nothing has been redacted—I wanted you to have the authentic experience.)
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Quality of Play for Upper Division – Please talk with your student
Good afternoon Families,
Upper Division Teachers are asking for parents to have conversations with students early in this week about PLAY. Research and observations supports the value in play for learning, growth, and development. Both structured play (like organizing teams to play a soccer game, or run a game like 4-square, or playing UNO) and unstructured play (students imagining scenarios and acting out stories of their making with peers) are incredibly valuable experinences in growth and development.
Teachers have noticed recently that some of the unstructured play students in which small groups of students are participating in at recess sometimes resemble their video gaming or media experiences. Some of the things we have observed recently involve pretend armies, weapons (swords, light sabers, guns), and while we understand that students may have different permissions and levels of supervision at home while playing these types of games, we are discouraging the expression of these games at school to ensure the actual safety and the protect the perception of safety of everyone in our school community.
Because we are an open campus and we are purposefully structuring our space and day for multi-age academic and social groupings, it is important that Upper Division students remember to code-switch, or filter their words and behaviors at school. We are an academic workplace where the focus is on learning. Quality play is necessary, but not sufficient, for learning.
As part of our focus on Leadership, we would ask that you remind your students that while we are mindful of their interests and want them to enjoy thier play times, we will ask them to modify or change their play if is seems inappropriate. We would like this discussion to continue, so please also talk to students about how to respond to adults who interrupt their play if it seems unsafe, disrespectful, or unkind for our K-8 school community. While they are encouraged to challenge the process and enable others to action, a positive tone of voice and body language that indicates respect is necessary for success when negotiating with adults about code-switching. Modifying their play to be appropriate for the place and space is a non-negotiable part of our Social Contract.
Our Upper Division students are charismatic leaders who make a difference in the lives of their peers and teachers. We are all so glad to get to work with them every day and we are grateful that you share them with us. Please let us know if you have questions or concerns. And thank you for your active partnership in raising them to be caring and thoughtful individuals.
Thanks!
Upper Division Team
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I have read and re-read this manifesto many times, too many times.
In an English 101 course I enrolled in around 2013 at UCDenver, I learned the term “Discourse Community”. That is what you can call places like Starbucks and their odd size names. (Grande etc). Discourse communities occur everywhere and for many reasons—nearly zero of the reasons being nefarious.
Again, like my Report Cards in 2024 post, the trouble here is the teachers clearly know better. The writer of this email cannot be incompetent. The grammar is fine (subject-verb disagreement in second sentence and only one misspelling “thier” after the bold para). The flow is also fine (though a bit unaware of itself to be “good”). And most importantly, the entire message is focused and captured by the subject line. In other words, no one hijacked anything. It wasn’t a passive-aggressive, “Read Here How Great Your Child Is”, when the content is really saying, “They’re horrible and it’s your fault—do something.” Nope, it is focused and singular. These are rarities in 2024.
The problems, instead, are fourteen-fold and listed below for clarity:
1. What is “Quality of Play”?
2. What is “Upper Division”?
3. Why is “PLAY” capitalized?
4. No sources are provided for “Research and Observations”.
5. Did you just define “structured” and “unstructured”?
6. By “small groups” do you mean A. Only a few bad apples or B. Every time a small group forms? Follow-up: If “A”, what does research and observation show regarding putting everyone on blast, instead of using a “praise in public, criticize in private” type posture?
7. Do you look at my student’s browser or device history? Are you monitoring what we watch together (or separately) in our home? How would you know what their media experiences include?
8. What is an “open campus”?
9. What does “code-switch” mean?
10. Is “filter their words and behaviors” any different than “think”? If not, isn’t that more your role than mine?
11. Is, “Quality play is necessary, but not sufficient,” a threat to take away recess? Sub-question, why is “play” here not capitalized?
12. What does, “challenge the process and enable others to action,” mean?
13. You wrote, “Our Upper Division students are charismatic leaders who make a difference in the lives of their peers and teachers.” Is that different from saying, “These kids attend school in America in 2024”?
14. Finally, how would you distinguish an “active partnership” from a “partnership”?
In the end, why is there a “discourse community” for the parent/teacher relationship? Why? I don’t want the relationship in the first place, because in the first place it hides the teacher’s (possible) failure—nothing more. And in the second place, I do not have the time for it. This post took over an hour. Who has that much time each day? Certainly not teachers. Definitely no one but me.
Let’s stop wasting time, no? Is there anyone against that?
A Woman in 1899, Another in 1920, and One from 2024
Self-satisfaction begins with reading a variety of books. This morning, already, I have read from F Scott Fitzgerald’s This Side of Paradise and Jack London’s short story “The White Silence.”
The necessary vital stats of these two giants for this post include London’s work preceding Fitzgerald’s by about 30 years; oh, and London wrote about life in the wild, whereas Fitzgerald wrote about life in, what later would be called, the concrete jungle—the city, specifically high society.
In writing about “life”, they also wrote about women. Women are everywhere, it seems. And not to be avoided.
In order of my reading today, here is a blurb from F Scott on women.
“I’ve got an adjective that just fits you.” This was one of his favorite starts—he seldom had a word in mind, but it was a curiosity provoker, and he could always produce something complimentary if he got in a tight corner.
“Oh—what?” Isabelle’s face was a study in enraptured curiosity.
And, now for the real test, from 30 years earlier and a world away, Jack London’s entry on women.
“Yes, Ruth,” continued her husband, having recourse to the macaronic jargon in which it was alone possible for them to understand each other; “wait until we clean up and pull for the Outside. We’ll take the White Man’s canoe and go to the Salt Water. Yes, bad water, rough water—great mountains dance up and down all the time. And so big, so far, so far away—you travel ten sleep, twenty sleep, forty sleep”—he graphically enumerated the days on his fingers—“all the time water, bad water. Then you come to great village, plenty people, just the same mosquitoes next summer. Wigwams oh, so high—ten, twenty pines. Hi-yu skookum!”
He paused impotently, cast an appealing glance at Malemute Kid, then laboriously placed twenty pines, end on end, by sign language. Malemute Kid smiled with cheery cynicism; but Ruth’s eyes were wide with wonder, and with pleasure; for she half believed he was joking, and such condescension pleased her poor woman’s heart.
“And then you step into a—a box, and pouf! up you go.” He tossed his empty cup in the air by way of illustration and. As he deftly caught it, cried: “And biff! down you come. Oh, great medicine men! You go Fort Yukon, I go Arctic City—twenty five sleep—big string, all the time—I catch him string—I say, ‘Hello, Ruth! How are ye?’—and you say, ‘Is that my good husband?’—and I say, ‘Yes’—and you say, ‘No can bake good bread, no more soda’—then I say, ‘Look in cache, under flour; good-by.’ You look and catch plenty soda. All the time you Fort Yukon, me Arctic City. Hi-yu medicine man!”
Ruth smiled so ingenuously at the fairy story that both men burst into laughter. A row among the dogs cut short the wonders of the Outside, and by the time the snarling combatants were separated, she had lashed the sleds and all was ready for the trail.
I know, I know. Way more from London. But it’s to serve a point, my point.
The earlier-dated passage from London required more words as the task before him included also announcing the different cultures.
But they both offer the same comment—and oh, how detestable the situation!
They both convey a man telling a fairy tale to their woman, and they both convey that women are beholden to men.
We are now one hundred years from F Scott and this question is, by my thinking, the pre-eminent question of our time. My generation has no other issue of more importance on the docket.
And for my part, I have determined resolution of the question. This will not shock regular readers.
I can put the matter in one of two ways, a kind of “glass is half-full” version and a kind of “glass is half-empty” version.
Half-empty: Women are no longer beholden to men. And without men, women are actively disintegrating civilization.
Half-full: Wise women would do well to choose to live as if beholden to men, regardless the true nature of their plight.
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For the record, Ruth is infinitely more attractive to me. According to the text, she displays taking “pleasure” and “ smiles ingenuously.” (Look it up, if you don’t know. I had to.) She also lashed the sleds.
What did Isabelle do? Nothing that an animal in heat couldn’t.
Captain’s Log 