Tagged: Writing

Fantasy Speech

I remember wondering if it was smart to skip seeing TDKR in Denver after the shooting in Aurora. Everyone I knew said we had to go. We went. We survived.

This time, I find myself wondering if I should go to church, and if I should take my kids to our church, a Black church, tomorrow. Why? Because obviously the crazies are out and about.

We’re going. And I would love the opportunity to speak.

So here’s what I would say if the pastor, who I don’t yet know well, pulled me aside and said, “We could use a word. I was hoping it wouldn’t be imposing to ask if you would say something.”

****

Let the church say, “Amen.”

Let the whole church say, “Amen.”

Pastor asked me to say a word. I was actually hoping he would. Here’s the truth. I almost didn’t come today. Then I decided that I would come for sure, but I almost didn’t bring my kids. Almost. What tipped the scales? The blood.

The blood.

Did you see the blood?

Seriously, I am curious. I want to know if you saw it.

The blood, did you see it?

I am a pilot. We take yearly checkrides. Mine was scheduled for that night and I needed to focus. So it was late at night before I saw the blood.

The blood, did you see it?

Seeing the blood was shocking, right? In my line of work, I often seen blood-soaked cloth. Or dried blood on a person. But blood like that? I can’t say I have seen that. Is that happening inside my body right now? If so, I don’t feel it, which is weird.

The blood, did you see it?

Is that what it takes to keep a human going? He was sitting. Is there a difference between sitting calmly and, say, running? Would there have been more pumping power if he had been running or just finished a set?

The blood, did you see it?

So despite some instincts which told me not to, I showed up today because of the blood. Do you get it?

The blood, did you see it?

Did you see the blood?

I did. And that’s why I came.

Pastor.

5 Course Corrections for Pro-Kirk Discussions/Reporting

I believe that it is exceedingly important to continually improve. Even and perhaps especially when the going is rough. That’s the reason for this post.

1. Until you saw the footage, you were safe to say he was shot and needs prayer. But once you saw the footage, it became very important to call it for what it was. He gave up the ghost on impact. We all saw it. Quit indirectly denying this. Your whole industry rests on the idea it is most important to be “first to report”, so don’t act like you wanted to wait to get the facts. You probably saw before us. He was gone immediately. Especially now that we all saw, adjust the description of what happened. Most importantly, please try to do better next time.

2. I fly sick or injured people around. They are lying there right next to me. When they have vomited (never due to my flying 😉) the backsplash has landed on my arm. Sad stuff. Do I get to cry while I do my job? No. Likewise, y’all need to stop the crying. Be a professional like me, or drop the act that you’re legitimate journalism.

3. There is a theme going around that Mr. Kirk was exemplary in his noble quest to have honest dialogue. That’s fine. But the adults in the room (aren’t you supposed to be one?) need to also say that Kirk brought talk to a gunfight. I don’t mean that we’re in a “hot war” or something. I don’t mean that he somehow caused anything. I mean that Tolstoy’s book title “War and Peace” is as simple as life gets. Life is continuously both. Don’t forget to highlight this truth. We all need to choose wisely and with the full knowledge that war is constant, just like peace. Will I send or support my kid going around the country on a public speaking tour on the topic of free speech? I’ll tell you the names of countries to where I wouldn’t send them to do it. And that there are these countries means that even you know that his choices weren’t as good as they could have been. There is a foolishness to them. Put short: noble does not encompass foolhardy. Remind us of this.

4. This brings me to another part of war talk that keeps sliding into the discussion. Pay attention all you civilian pukes. This is for you. Never submissively listen to a veteran describe that we’re in a war. Or that they know that war is coming soon. Certainly never act like veterans have some special insight or access to knowledge that leads to this conclusion. The veteran’s burden is that they can’t help but see that we’re in war. But we’re not. And more than that, us veterans need you non-veterans to call out what you see regarding how there is not a war. It is your own special burden. But it is real and you need to insist that the assassination doesn’t indicate that war is occurring or coming soon.

5. Finally, please, please, please stop believing that your words and reporting actually influences the longevity of your career/paycheck. No, ma’am. No, sir. You don’t actually help. We don’t actually care. In all likelihood, your profession is a detriment to people and society, vice. So just calm down and be yourself. We can tell when you apply pressure (for no reason) to yourself to react in a way which you think will boost ratings. It looks silly and unattractive. We watch or read because we’re bored and lack self-control. Not because we need you.

Two Updates on the Boy Child

First, during my attempt to get more of the cookie for myself, when I told him that the cookie was very big, J- innocently said, “My mouth is big!”

Second, we have this game Poop Tracks which is actually a pretty fantastic board game for little kids (if you care to have them turn into Tom Brown Jr.-like trackers). You spin a spinner and do what it says. The options are, “Draw 1 (or 2), Trade, Swipe, or Skip.” Naturally, I take it upon myself to teach my progeny the proper way to trade and swipe. And, naturally, the proper way to swipe is through distraction. So my kids now look forward to the spinner landing on “swipe” so they can say, “Look at that, Dad!” before proceeding to take one if my cards. Well, just now, as J- and I (A- is now in kindergarten 😦 ) were having a donut, he says, “Look out the window, Day-ad!” Obviously he was priming me for the take, but for what? I played along and then he swiped my napkin. What a guy!

On Higher Education

I read and I read and I read.

It’s lovely.

But even I have doubts as to what exactly to do with all the knowledge. I am not interested in being a college professor. There was a time when I could almost imagine working hard and becoming an Indiana Jones-style biblical archaeologist (yes, kids, there are archeologists and they really do have dangerous/exciting experiences depending on the types of finds).

But that mood passed.

I ate with an old professor and we briefly discussed the pros and cons of re-engaging formal education. I wasn’t sold that the pros outweighed the cons. Specifically, every part of actual biblical training and academics is losing ground to the soft skills of Christian counseling and other versions of underwater basket weaving. Why join a dying breed? There simply is no demand from the public for an educated pastor. So the degree has to be for teaching or research, and the field is near exhaustion.

This brings me to the catalyst for this post. Check this endnote out. It is from Fr. John P. Meier’s A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, Volume 5 Probing the Authenticity of the Parables”. I have been reading his Marginal Jew books since 2001 (24+ years). I think in the beginning I used them against Christianity as I questioned the Faith, but over time they actually have become some of my favorite books on Christianity-ish, outside of the inspired canon.

All of those listed titles, articles, books etc. are about just one (1) parable. I have been in churches for probably 25+ years and I don’t think I could list that many individuals who have commented (informedly or free-association style) on any one (1) parable. Fr. Meier, on the other hand, read three pages’ worth of scholarly commentary. (And in at least two languages.) Talk about putting me in my place.

I take it all back. I do not read. I do not read. I do not read. And I have no business ever lofting an opinion about anything into the air.

In the end, Fr. Meier and his impossible bibliographies (1) arms me for rhetorical battle with the loudmouth ‘educated’ nonbelievers that I sometimes run into and (2) keeps Christianity larger than life.

I think my favorite title from those listed is, “Excuses, Excuses: The Parable of the Banquet (Luke 14:15-24) within the Larger Context of Luke.” Funny guy.

Also, not that Meier loves its conclusions, but he did reference it enough that it sounded kinda like a definitive work so I did pickup a used copy of Snodgrass’s Stories With Intent—a 900+ page comprehensive look at the generally eloquent parables. I have to admit I haven’t been this excited to read such a book in many years. So add that to Meier’s effects: inspirational.

Re-Learning Biblical Hebrew While Keeping an Eye on Starship Flight 10

Seriously, could my life be more interesting?

Why learn Biblical Hebrew? Well, as the scholars put it 100 years ago, to avoid being a “helpless plaything” in the hands of biblical critics. The Bible is always under attack. If you don’t know how to work with the original languages, you are not on solid ground.

Why watch Starship Flight 10? Well, because it’s incomparably awesome and beautiful to watch and incomparably compelling and poignant to contemplate.

Attention School Teachers and Administrators: The Emails Have To Stop

For fun, this week I copied the text from all school emails over to a MSWord doc in order to learn a word count. (I have two kids in this school. H- is elsewhere and I did not add that school’s emails. I didn’t want to come across as extreme. Time will tell.)

The total—not including a PDF attachment late entry of today—was 1410 words.

For reference, Cat in the Hat is 1600ish and One Fish Two Fish… is 1300ish.

Depending on your speed of reading aloud, those books take somewhere over 10 minutes, but shy of 15 for sure. In your head, maybe 5 minutes.

What were the emails about?

  1. The need to comply with unnecessarily dynamic drop-off and pick-up procedures.
  2. Visit to nurse for complaint of splinter.
  3. Homework completion is required.
  4. A case of head lice was discovered.

29 words. 5.2 seconds. And I wasn’t trying. Trying would be:

  1. Don’t be a knucklehead in the car line.
  2. N/A
  3. N/A
  4. Check your kid for head lice.

14 words. 1.7 seconds.

Please keep in mind none of our parents ever communicated with the school while we were in school. Parents, in the 80s-90s (and I’m sure many ignore everything today), could literally never talk to anyone at school, not just for one week, but for the entire year. And the school didn’t care. And the parents didn’t care.

The emails have to stop.

I am happy to report that in recent reading about Vietnam, I came across the best concluding anecdote I could ever imagine.

From a 1971 NYT article regarding border crossing operations in Laos:

“The sign ‘Warning! No U.S. Personnel Beyond This Point’…On the back, facing Laos, is a faintly scrawled message to the North Vietnamese Army: ‘Warning! No N.V.A. Beyond This Point.’”

In short, there are limitations to what the written word can accomplish. One would like to think the educators would understand this best of all.

Pilots—Hope Embodied

I’m at work today and was chatting with the mechanic. It got me thinking.

Man, this job sure requires me to place a lot of trust in other people.

This led to me wondering What makes someone want to be an aircraft mechanic?

This led to I sure hope the answer is ‘not being as brave or good-looking’ as pilots.

But I backed off that and landed on Flying the aircraft requires more trust in other people than mechanics usually possess.

There are surely other measures of trust or, more broadly, hope. But what I mean to call attention to is the why behind the quality of the trait that pilots necessarily possess.

Once considered, I say one must conclude that it isn’t merely the mode of travel, but the fact of travel that betrays the pilot’s special embodiment of hope. From the functioning of the aircraft, to the people at the (planned or unplanned) destination not killing you upon arrival, the pilot embodies hope.

From another angle, consider that Mark Twain said, “Travel is fatal to prejuidce, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.”

That’s got all the right words, but it’s backwards. From where I sit, “Prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness are fatal to travel.”

But, of course, by travel I mean more than the movement of the body from one location to another. I count as travel learning—even via books. I count attending different cultures’ events (ie, Chinamen moving to Chinatown is not travel, but one religious Chinaman’s visiting of a different religion’s Chinaman family—all who live in the same apartment building is) as travel. There are probably other meanings I would count.

Or not.

So I only mean three things count as travel. (1) travel, (2) learning, and (3) dually (i) meeting people who look identical to yourself but are, in fact, not you and (ii) meeting people who look nothing like you and finding out they are, in fact, your identical twin. And the connection which binds these three is not travel, but hope.

Do you see?

A Lesson that Requires Pocket Change

My friend, an older, heavyset gentlemen, keeps his story going with, “It’s about listening. You gotta teach the kids how to listen.”

Here he pauses and apologizes as he needs a break. He often needs to take a break, but doesn’t seem too concerned with the underlying medical condition.

The cloudiness disappears and he resumes.

“I teach my grandkids how to listen by placing a penny on the palm of my hand right here-” here he holds out his left hand, palm facing me, and points to the spot where I have always assumed street magicians palm the coin.

He continues, “Then I place a nickel next to it and a quarter next to the nickel. Then I tell the kids, ‘Johnny’s mom had three kids. Penny, Nick, and ??’”

The man turns to me, and I open my eyes larger than normal, while raising my eyebrows. I mean to merely indicate that I am not ready for an interactive moment, but I also admit that I don’t yet understand anything from this listening lesson.

“It requires the coins. Who has some coins?”

I follow him to the table where some other men are sitting and my friend asks the leader and most responsible of us, “Jim, do you have any coins? I need a penny, a nickel and a quarter.”

Surprisingly, and as predicted, Jim pulls a 1986-sized fistful of pocket change out of his shorts’ pocket and finds the required coinage.

My friend then places the coins in his palm, penny, nickel, quarter. Jim is paying attention, but the previous conversation he was apart of continues to unfold as well.

“Johnny’s mom had three kids. Penny, Nick, and ??”

Wishing to show my language prowess, I forget about the spelling of ‘quarter’ and begin to contemplate every name that starts with the ‘kwart’ sound.

“Kwart? Kurt?” I guess.

Shaking his head in shame, my friend repeats, “Johnny’s-”

“JOHNNY!” I exclaim, joyfully. “Johnny,” I then repeat, with a pronounced note and loud look of playful disgust.

Jim knowingly smiles.

My friend says to him, “You’ve heard this one before, huh?”

A slow nod from Jim answers.

“You see, Pete, someone has to teach them how to listen.”

****

Here’s the catch, faithful reader. Anyone who gets the right answer already knows how to listen. The all important and usually lacking skill in the human, imho, that my friend taught his grandkids (and I) is humility.

The Less Committed Noah, A Review of “The Coming Wave” by Mustafa Suleyman

To recap, I admitted to myself some months ago that I knew nothing about AI. I also doubted that anyone uttering the sounds, “A-I” (“It’s an acronym”, taught Kamala), knew much more than me. This belief was bolstered and informed by my nearly-techie brother’s share that his bosses advocated the use of the phrase wherever possible during meetings with clients as it perked people up. In other words, AI is trending. (There is nothing new in this confession of mine.)

The first book I decided to read was Melanie Mitchell’s Artificial Intelligence: A Guide for Thinking Humans.

I then asked a friend for any recommendation he might have, and that is how I ended up reading Suleyman’s book.

To be clear: there is no need to read this book. It is not earth shattering. It will not change your life. It truly does not have much by way of content. A Toastmaster friend once told excitable me, in an effort to dissuade me from buying his book, that these days books are little different than business cards. That is about right for Coming Wave.

But I did read it and consider it and this is my blog so I am going to share my thoughts.

Maybe because I have been reading a bunch of ‘evolution of physics’ books, I read “wave” in the title and pictured (and was intrigued by) the wave in lightwave. Maybe it was because I have already asserted that AI is merely man’s newfound ability to sense electricity with greater refinement than ever before that I didn’t see “water” wave. Whatever the reason, I was totally taken aback by Suleyman’s opening alignment with Noah. It’s actually shocking. Seriously, consider it. There is a man, who by all accounts is ‘successful’, and he chose to warn the world of cataclysmic disaster.

What?

Perhaps it was my background in Biblical Studies that clouded my thinking. But the end of the Deluge account in Genesis includes the Rainbow and the promise to never flood “the world” again. This leaves two choices available to authors. First, believe the Bible story and live a peace-filled life. Second, totally miss the conclusion of the Bible story and with astounding boldness, still identify yourself with the main character in some bastardized version of the story.

But what do I know? I’m often told it is better to not throw the baby out with the bathwater.

So I read on.

Suleyman opens the book with a Glossary, much like post-graduate work requires. But unlike post-graduate work, no editors or friends told him that his definitions are nebulous. Take “Waves” for example.

“The global diffusion or proliferation of a generation of technology anchored in a new general-purpose technology.”

Global, generation of technology, anchored, and general-purpose technology all need to now be defined.

Another term (pessimism aversion) includes the word elites. What exactly is an elite? My best guess is the intro-extro couple from Susan Cain’s Quiet who can’t decide on how to seat guests at their parties. (Throw pillows and a bar with top chairs was the solution, if I recall.)

All this might seem too detailed and in the weeds, but I assure you of my earnestness. What exactly is the threat? Why don’t I feel it? How come when I hear “pessimism aversion” I think, “Does he mean hope?”

I’ve talked about how unappealing it is for politicians to constantly hedge their positions elsewhere on this blog. Well, Suleyman cannot but hedge. His warning, so laughable, is always immediately followed by, “But it is also possible that it only rains the exactly perfect amount.”

Fourteen chapters, two hundred eighty-eight pages worth of Noahic warning, immediately hedged.

Again, Noah didn’t hedge. This commitment is one major reason Noah is timeless. Suleyman, on the other hand, will not be remembered. His wave will not form—regardless of his book’s grand clarion call for containment (and central planning at a level red blooded Americans will never tolerate).

Moving on to “new to me”.

I have to admit that Suleyman did introduce a few topics that Mitchell left out of her more focused general audience primer. Synthetic Biology, according to Suleyman, is a hand-in-hand technological advancement. Think Arnold building Arnold.

Suleyman also introduces the concept that, running with the Terminator theme, Arnold won’t care about nation-state boundaries (which Suleyman defines, abhorrently, as “collective fiction resting on the belief of everyone concerned”). The example of this coming hellscape (the “warning” before the hedge) being, ta da, Hamas. Or, maybe a good analogy are the fringe groups in the NW part of America which seem to always be trying to separate statutorily from anyone who can say “sanctuary city” with a straight face.

Then again, it is possible that AI actually ushers in more rainbows and the first ever unicorns. You just never know.

To be honest, and this is the end, Suleyman’s main problem is he cannot (nor can anyone it seems) meaningfully define AI. Melanie Mitchell essentially teaches us how AI works, but Suleyman doesn’t mean that AI. His warning is about the coming AI. You know, the one that really is going to put an end to the Anthropocene and all the blood-pumping bipedal organisms with opposable thumbs and large frontal cortexes.

My final takeaway, the one I sent to the recommending friend, is: Either (A) AI programmers like Suleyman are trying to suggest the coming AI is concretely analogous to handing nuclear bombs to the homeless or (B) they don’t mean that.

If (A), then right now we must immediately issue a call to arms and begin a first of its kind unceasing kinetic war against them. If (B), then there is no coming wave.

One Friday Lunch Thought

Did anyone else notice how fast Crumbl pivoted? They storm into the nicest parts of town (or sides of the street) with some of the best cookies ever—but it turns out you have to take a lunch break while eating them. So now they have mini-cookies.

And these are cookie-sized.

New questions which are fascinating to consider include:

  1. How did they not know about the size issue?
  2. Did they have any data that suggested they would have been unsuccessful starting with normal size cookie?
  3. Would they change their initial strategy if they had to do it all over again?

Whatever the answers, I need to say: “Please don’t ever pivot on flavor! They’re wonderful!”