The reason for the not convicted Big Ben Roethlisberger's suspension was "conduct detrimental to the integrity of the league". Yeah no kidding. Still vague. What is the "integrity of the league" anyway? Apparently its whatever Roger Goodell says it is. Because a Brett Favre "sexting" incident that's well documented empirical evidence is not "conduct detrimental to the integrity of the league."
I'm just pointing out the hypocrisy. I don't disagree with the Roethlisberger decision. I wouldn't even have a problem with a no decision both ways. But you can't have a split decision. Roger Goodell has concocted an image of terse morality; a disciplinarian spring cleaner. Except Brett Favre has no accountability. I'm not resorting to throwing our conspiracy theories. I'm just saying, why the double standard?
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Giving Up Everything to Get Everything and More Back
Today I lived a hipsters' dream. I went to a coffee shop and in no particular order talked about beards with friends, wandered aimlessly on facebook, talked about the Christian's attitude towards capital punishment, and typed on my computer for about four hours. Then I went and got a chili-dog, went to Starbucks, wandered facebook some more, and read Kierkegaard. While I was at the coffee shop I ran into many folks that I knew and had varying degrees of interesting conversation with them. Now I'm at the same coffee shop drinking a yerba mate, listening to a local hipster kid sing John Prine, typing this blog post. If this was life all the time, I think I would be happy.
While I was struck by the perfection of my day, I was struck by the happiness of the chili dog place. If my day was the hipster's dream day, then Coney Island Lunch is the Scrantonite's dream spot. The owner is a connoisseur of baseball and a collector of classic baseball memorabilia with which the store is chock full. There are bobbleheads, pennants, and old newspaper clippings plastered on the walls. The employees are one of two kinds of people. They are either middle-aged men, or twenty-something girls. Everyone knows everyone that comes in the little shop and they all talk a little smack, a little sports, a little politics, and chops are being busted like plastic Christmas gifts. I feel like when Scranton was founded, that the little chili dog shop scene was exactly what the founders had in mind.
As it is, my hipster days are few and far between, and while the original vision for the city was that everyone would just own a storefront and bust each others' chops, this is not how it always is. Sometimes people flip you off. Sometimes they curse you out. Sometimes they fire you.
I think we all have our own visions of what life could or should be like. I think we all flock into groups that share our vision, and I think most of the visions are pure, albeit idealistic. And it's a shame that they're idealistic. It's a shame that despite their distinctive purity, that they are in competition with each other. We cannot all have our way.
I also think that most of us have never exactly thought through our vision. For many of us, it is undeveloped or sub-conscious. But either way we act on it, more often than not in ignorance of why we're really doing what we're doing; without any idea of what we're striving for. We call this the human condition.
The nice thing about religion is that it gives us the vision and the method outright. It does all the work of figuring out the meaning of life for us. We just have to do what it says.
So I'm a Christian. (If you're an old subscriber, you know this.) I don't believe in the hipster way. I believe in Jesus' way. But Jesus' way is hard to believe in. I read in Luke yesterday that Jesus' asks me to follow Him. And then I realized his destiny was the cross. Of course the hope is the resurrection, but the cross is inevitable. Jesus says I can only have life if I am willing to give up my own; if I am willing to lay down the hipster way of life. Some might think that this means that the ways we find to live in this world, whether it be "hipsteresque" or Scrantastic are by self-definition sinful. I wonder if when Jesus says if one is willing to lay down his life he will not fail to receive it back sevenfold when His kingdom comes, if he means that these pure but various ways of life which we choose to embrace will not be given back to us, but in a form in which they compliment each other instead of compete against each other. It makes sense to me that one must be willing to lose his life, to gain it. For God is not able entrust us with our own life while we live in the flesh. Our flesh is under the influence of our common ancestor, Adam. But the second Adam, Jesus, has by his own sacrifice, freed us through faith in Him to have our life without the hindrance of the flesh, but we must pass through the fire. We must actually be willing to stake no claim on our own life. We must entrust it to Him, and then we will be free, despite the fact that the decision of faith, that is the decision to entrust our life to Jesus, is a sacrifice. It is a sacrifice that returns freedom.
While I was struck by the perfection of my day, I was struck by the happiness of the chili dog place. If my day was the hipster's dream day, then Coney Island Lunch is the Scrantonite's dream spot. The owner is a connoisseur of baseball and a collector of classic baseball memorabilia with which the store is chock full. There are bobbleheads, pennants, and old newspaper clippings plastered on the walls. The employees are one of two kinds of people. They are either middle-aged men, or twenty-something girls. Everyone knows everyone that comes in the little shop and they all talk a little smack, a little sports, a little politics, and chops are being busted like plastic Christmas gifts. I feel like when Scranton was founded, that the little chili dog shop scene was exactly what the founders had in mind.
As it is, my hipster days are few and far between, and while the original vision for the city was that everyone would just own a storefront and bust each others' chops, this is not how it always is. Sometimes people flip you off. Sometimes they curse you out. Sometimes they fire you.
I think we all have our own visions of what life could or should be like. I think we all flock into groups that share our vision, and I think most of the visions are pure, albeit idealistic. And it's a shame that they're idealistic. It's a shame that despite their distinctive purity, that they are in competition with each other. We cannot all have our way.
I also think that most of us have never exactly thought through our vision. For many of us, it is undeveloped or sub-conscious. But either way we act on it, more often than not in ignorance of why we're really doing what we're doing; without any idea of what we're striving for. We call this the human condition.
The nice thing about religion is that it gives us the vision and the method outright. It does all the work of figuring out the meaning of life for us. We just have to do what it says.
So I'm a Christian. (If you're an old subscriber, you know this.) I don't believe in the hipster way. I believe in Jesus' way. But Jesus' way is hard to believe in. I read in Luke yesterday that Jesus' asks me to follow Him. And then I realized his destiny was the cross. Of course the hope is the resurrection, but the cross is inevitable. Jesus says I can only have life if I am willing to give up my own; if I am willing to lay down the hipster way of life. Some might think that this means that the ways we find to live in this world, whether it be "hipsteresque" or Scrantastic are by self-definition sinful. I wonder if when Jesus says if one is willing to lay down his life he will not fail to receive it back sevenfold when His kingdom comes, if he means that these pure but various ways of life which we choose to embrace will not be given back to us, but in a form in which they compliment each other instead of compete against each other. It makes sense to me that one must be willing to lose his life, to gain it. For God is not able entrust us with our own life while we live in the flesh. Our flesh is under the influence of our common ancestor, Adam. But the second Adam, Jesus, has by his own sacrifice, freed us through faith in Him to have our life without the hindrance of the flesh, but we must pass through the fire. We must actually be willing to stake no claim on our own life. We must entrust it to Him, and then we will be free, despite the fact that the decision of faith, that is the decision to entrust our life to Jesus, is a sacrifice. It is a sacrifice that returns freedom.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Brd, Trd, nd t f ds.
Dd ths nc bfr. wrt n ntr blg pst. Th prps ws t s f flks cld rd wtht th s f vwls. Ddn't trn t t rdbl lst tm. Bt hv nthng bttr t wrt bt. Lbrn Jms s a lsr. Th Brwns wll mk th plyffs nxt yr.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Lyrical Musings
Thoughtless Creeds
by Matthew Paul Miller
If dire straights are good
Then Nirvana is hell on earth
And the only thing that prayer is worth;
is knowledge of our pain
I don't know what I should
do in situations such as these
A reference to thoughtless creeds?
If to you it's just the same?
Give me a minute to figure out that I don't know what is wrong.
I could use the time to realize that what I thought was never right.
If intimacy's good
Then protection is a waste of time
Let's start believing that we'll all be fine;
until there comes a day
In a casket made of wood
They'll be viewing just a lifeless shell
Knowing that we didn't go to hell
'Cause for our sin to Jesus pay
Just give me a minute to figure out that I don't know what is wrong.
I could use the time to realize that what I thought was always right.
Do you know who you are to me?
Do you know who I ought to be?
If television helps;
we can watch a little matinee
Immobile in the middle of the day.
It's just a way of passing time
And all the feeling that we've felt
become invisible and float away
And when they ask us all about our day
we can say that it was fine
Just give me a minute to figure out that I don't know what is wrong.
I could use the time realize that what I thought was never right.
Do you know who you are to me?
Do you know who I ought to be?
I want to know who you are to me
and all other knowledge agnostic-ally.
by Matthew Paul Miller
If dire straights are good
Then Nirvana is hell on earth
And the only thing that prayer is worth;
is knowledge of our pain
I don't know what I should
do in situations such as these
A reference to thoughtless creeds?
If to you it's just the same?
Give me a minute to figure out that I don't know what is wrong.
I could use the time to realize that what I thought was never right.
If intimacy's good
Then protection is a waste of time
Let's start believing that we'll all be fine;
until there comes a day
In a casket made of wood
They'll be viewing just a lifeless shell
Knowing that we didn't go to hell
'Cause for our sin to Jesus pay
Just give me a minute to figure out that I don't know what is wrong.
I could use the time to realize that what I thought was always right.
Do you know who you are to me?
Do you know who I ought to be?
If television helps;
we can watch a little matinee
Immobile in the middle of the day.
It's just a way of passing time
And all the feeling that we've felt
become invisible and float away
And when they ask us all about our day
we can say that it was fine
Just give me a minute to figure out that I don't know what is wrong.
I could use the time realize that what I thought was never right.
Do you know who you are to me?
Do you know who I ought to be?
I want to know who you are to me
and all other knowledge agnostic-ally.
Ezekiel 32
Your foreskin is showing, exposed, and I don't have the patience to deal with;
the problem
And there's a sword about your waste
And blood on your hand
but its not your own
But it will be someday
It will be someday
And there are swords
lying in heaps upon the hordes
of the dead
sword bearing warriors
And we honor you today
for your success in the campaign
But we've got our own blood on our hands
And I'm inclined to say;
that if you changed your ways
and your style
you'd be better off today
But am I unjust?
in assessing your misdemeanor?
You ought to be ashamed of yourself
You killed somebody else.
the problem
And there's a sword about your waste
And blood on your hand
but its not your own
But it will be someday
It will be someday
And there are swords
lying in heaps upon the hordes
of the dead
sword bearing warriors
And we honor you today
for your success in the campaign
But we've got our own blood on our hands
And I'm inclined to say;
that if you changed your ways
and your style
you'd be better off today
But am I unjust?
in assessing your misdemeanor?
You ought to be ashamed of yourself
You killed somebody else.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Kierkegaard, Not Steinbeck
If you take the time to look at the info on my facebook, you'll notice that one of my favorite quotes is one from John Steinbeck. The book: The Grapes of Wrath. The quote: "Fear the time when the bombers stop bombing while the bombers live. For every bomb is proof that the spirit has not died", which is the climax of the chapter. The chapter, unfortunately, I do not have memorized. But the chapter is exactly what I wanted to share with you today. I do not own the book however. (I don't own many books) So I went ot Barnes & Noble to borrow The Grapes of Wrath, but lo, NO GRAPES OF WRATH! Every other Steinbeck novel, short story, and poem was there, but not the one I wanted.
The truth is I didn't feel like saying anything myself to today, but I felt like saying something. I have this Kierkegaard book in front of me, so I have decided to quote him. (Or should I say, I have decided to quote Climacus?)
"With regard to the dissenting conception of what it isto communicate, I sometimes wonder whether this matter of indirect communication could not be directly communicated. For example, I see that Socrates, who ordinarily held so strictly to asking and answering (which is an indirect method), because the long speech, the didactic discourse, and reciting by rote lead only to confusion, at times himself speaks at length and the states as the reason that the person with whom he is speaking needs and elucidation before the conversation can begin. This he does in Gorgias, for example. But this seems to me an inconsistency, an impatience that fears it will take too long before they come to a mutual understanding, because through the indirect method is must still be possible to achieve the same thing, only more slowly. But haste is utterly worthless in understanding when inwardness is the understanding. To me it seems better truly to come to a mutual understanding separately in inwardness, even though this occurs slowly. Yes, even if it never did happen because time went by and the communicator was forgotten without ever being understood by anyone, it seems to me to be more consistent on the part of the communicator not to have made the slightest adaptation in order to ahve someone understand him, and first and last to watch himself lest he become important in relation to others, which far from being inwardness, is external, noisy conduct. If he does that, he will have consolation in the judgment when the god judges that he has made no concession to himself in order to win anyone but to the upmost of his capability has worked in vain, leaving it to the god whether it should have any significance or not. And this will not doubt please the god more than if the go-getter were to say to him, 'I have gained ten thousand adherents for you'... That subjectivity is truth is my thesis, I have tried to show... which at its maximum is Christianity. That is is possible to exist with inwardness also outside Christianity, the Greeks among others have adequately shown, but in our day things seem actually to have gone so far that although we are all Christians and knowledgeable about Christianity, it is already a rarity to encounter a person who has even as much existing inwardness as a pagan philosopher. No wonder that people are so quickly finished with Christianity when they begin by putting themselves in a state in which receiving an ever so little impression of Christianity is entirely out of the question. One becomes objective, one wants to consider objectively--that the god was crucified--an event that, when it occurred, did not permit even the temple to be objective, for its curtain tore, did not even permit the dead to remain objective, for they rose up from their graves. Thus what is able to make even the inanimate and the dead subjective is now considered objectively by Messrs. Objective"
Good enough.
The truth is I didn't feel like saying anything myself to today, but I felt like saying something. I have this Kierkegaard book in front of me, so I have decided to quote him. (Or should I say, I have decided to quote Climacus?)
"With regard to the dissenting conception of what it isto communicate, I sometimes wonder whether this matter of indirect communication could not be directly communicated. For example, I see that Socrates, who ordinarily held so strictly to asking and answering (which is an indirect method), because the long speech, the didactic discourse, and reciting by rote lead only to confusion, at times himself speaks at length and the states as the reason that the person with whom he is speaking needs and elucidation before the conversation can begin. This he does in Gorgias, for example. But this seems to me an inconsistency, an impatience that fears it will take too long before they come to a mutual understanding, because through the indirect method is must still be possible to achieve the same thing, only more slowly. But haste is utterly worthless in understanding when inwardness is the understanding. To me it seems better truly to come to a mutual understanding separately in inwardness, even though this occurs slowly. Yes, even if it never did happen because time went by and the communicator was forgotten without ever being understood by anyone, it seems to me to be more consistent on the part of the communicator not to have made the slightest adaptation in order to ahve someone understand him, and first and last to watch himself lest he become important in relation to others, which far from being inwardness, is external, noisy conduct. If he does that, he will have consolation in the judgment when the god judges that he has made no concession to himself in order to win anyone but to the upmost of his capability has worked in vain, leaving it to the god whether it should have any significance or not. And this will not doubt please the god more than if the go-getter were to say to him, 'I have gained ten thousand adherents for you'... That subjectivity is truth is my thesis, I have tried to show... which at its maximum is Christianity. That is is possible to exist with inwardness also outside Christianity, the Greeks among others have adequately shown, but in our day things seem actually to have gone so far that although we are all Christians and knowledgeable about Christianity, it is already a rarity to encounter a person who has even as much existing inwardness as a pagan philosopher. No wonder that people are so quickly finished with Christianity when they begin by putting themselves in a state in which receiving an ever so little impression of Christianity is entirely out of the question. One becomes objective, one wants to consider objectively--that the god was crucified--an event that, when it occurred, did not permit even the temple to be objective, for its curtain tore, did not even permit the dead to remain objective, for they rose up from their graves. Thus what is able to make even the inanimate and the dead subjective is now considered objectively by Messrs. Objective"
Good enough.
Monday, December 6, 2010
It's Beginning To Feel a lot Like Christmas
I'm not usually associated with one who is bubbling with that vague moniker: "Christmas spirit". I walked out my door today, it was snowing. And I got that feeling. You know that feeling. That little warmness like hot cocoa, teeming in the knowledge of the approaching festivities, the lights, the tree, the wreaths, the smells, the sounds, and the briskness in the air, the feel on your cheeks after taking a walk and coming home putting on your sweater and wool socks and snuggling with your special someone with something sweet in your cup. (Is that Christmas spirit?) I actually thought, "You know it really is the most wonderful time of the year".
And then I had to get gas. As I stood outside for what seemed like 10 minutes, I noticed one, that the temperature was 30, but that also a crisp wind was blowing, so I would say that it felt like 20 on my face, and two I noticed that gas was $3.09 a gallon. And then I got back in my car which takes until I get where I'm going to heat up to a comfortable temperature, and braved the horrendous traffic of downtown Scranton. I finally settled and then walked a block to the cafe' in which this post is being written. The moment I left my house this morning, and noticed that it was snowing, and got that warm feeling in my belly, it was gone by the time I was pumping gas. And I remembered why Christmas exists; to distract us from the reality that December is the most horrible time of the year. The shortest day of the year is in December. I think that the most hipster slackers see is 20 minutes of daylight that day. It's cold. Cold is unpleasant. As unpleasant as hot can be. Cold is much more unpleasant. The first snow is nice and nostalgic, and even pretty, but it is not long until the dogs, the plows, and the children turn into various shades of colors only elsewhere seen in toilets. I do like the evenings of cuddling, but I can't do that in the summer? I can do that in a pool or a beach in the summer!
I will not go into the endless woes of Christmas time. I have already mentioned all that is possibly good about it, which melts away as soon as you pump gas, shovel snow, or scrape the ice off of your car as you become later and later for work. Still, without Christmas, December would be even worse. But we can at least be honest about it.
And then I had to get gas. As I stood outside for what seemed like 10 minutes, I noticed one, that the temperature was 30, but that also a crisp wind was blowing, so I would say that it felt like 20 on my face, and two I noticed that gas was $3.09 a gallon. And then I got back in my car which takes until I get where I'm going to heat up to a comfortable temperature, and braved the horrendous traffic of downtown Scranton. I finally settled and then walked a block to the cafe' in which this post is being written. The moment I left my house this morning, and noticed that it was snowing, and got that warm feeling in my belly, it was gone by the time I was pumping gas. And I remembered why Christmas exists; to distract us from the reality that December is the most horrible time of the year. The shortest day of the year is in December. I think that the most hipster slackers see is 20 minutes of daylight that day. It's cold. Cold is unpleasant. As unpleasant as hot can be. Cold is much more unpleasant. The first snow is nice and nostalgic, and even pretty, but it is not long until the dogs, the plows, and the children turn into various shades of colors only elsewhere seen in toilets. I do like the evenings of cuddling, but I can't do that in the summer? I can do that in a pool or a beach in the summer!
I will not go into the endless woes of Christmas time. I have already mentioned all that is possibly good about it, which melts away as soon as you pump gas, shovel snow, or scrape the ice off of your car as you become later and later for work. Still, without Christmas, December would be even worse. But we can at least be honest about it.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Movies
I'm not a movie critic. But so what if I was? I'm not an actor or a filmmaker. Just a simple viewer for whom most of these movies are made (thankfully not all) And thankfully I am an American and most likely so are you, so you have to believe I have a right to share my opinion, even if it may be incredible.
So here are my thoughts on some recent movies I've watched.
Doubt-
I wonder how much skill it really took to make a movie as open ended as this. There is a subtle difference between laziness and subtlety. If you're open-ended enough, and know the right philosophical questions you can make anything seem profound. But with a work of art, being different than philosophy, its profundity is found in a large number of things, and is admittedly, annoyingly subjective. However, no aspect of this movie is poor. But what makes it truly outstanding isn't its plot, or its ability to solicit different responses from different individuals, which interestingly, is only remarkable because the movie works on every other level, and the frustrating thing is that the movie's creators are pretentious enough to think that it is the open ended aspect which makes their movie, when really it is the superb acting which makes the open ended aspect really really fun.) The acting jobs take this from the most mediocre movie ever made, to one of my favorite. But give no credit to the director, who simply found good actors who know how to provoke interesting questions that the philosophers conjured up centuries ago.
American Beauty-
If you really want this to be a derivative satire on the American suburban life, you can hate this movie, but given all the other great elements of this movie, can you possibly believe than director Sam Mendes is that dumb? To me its not a satire at all. It doesn't attempt to be. I don't mind unoriginality because I think to a large extent originality is just like the American dream, a mirage. The movie is a simple coming of age tale, and the fulfillment and victory that Lester experiences is real. It's scored well; acted well. The cinematography is great. It's entertaining, it's meaningful, and it understands the human condition.
So here are my thoughts on some recent movies I've watched.
Doubt-
I wonder how much skill it really took to make a movie as open ended as this. There is a subtle difference between laziness and subtlety. If you're open-ended enough, and know the right philosophical questions you can make anything seem profound. But with a work of art, being different than philosophy, its profundity is found in a large number of things, and is admittedly, annoyingly subjective. However, no aspect of this movie is poor. But what makes it truly outstanding isn't its plot, or its ability to solicit different responses from different individuals, which interestingly, is only remarkable because the movie works on every other level, and the frustrating thing is that the movie's creators are pretentious enough to think that it is the open ended aspect which makes their movie, when really it is the superb acting which makes the open ended aspect really really fun.) The acting jobs take this from the most mediocre movie ever made, to one of my favorite. But give no credit to the director, who simply found good actors who know how to provoke interesting questions that the philosophers conjured up centuries ago.
American Beauty-
If you really want this to be a derivative satire on the American suburban life, you can hate this movie, but given all the other great elements of this movie, can you possibly believe than director Sam Mendes is that dumb? To me its not a satire at all. It doesn't attempt to be. I don't mind unoriginality because I think to a large extent originality is just like the American dream, a mirage. The movie is a simple coming of age tale, and the fulfillment and victory that Lester experiences is real. It's scored well; acted well. The cinematography is great. It's entertaining, it's meaningful, and it understands the human condition.
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