On coincidence, creation, and really pretty flowers

_{[Note: Please know that I'm not trying to disparage or put down anyone who does believe in a god or gods; I'm simply articulating my own viewpoint and why it appeals to me personally. Any friendly counter or debate is, as always, perfectly welcome.]}

When two old friends who haven't seen each other for years meet on a street corner because they agreed ahead of time to meet there and catch up, there is nothing particularly striking about it. However, when the same two friends randomly bump into one another on the same street corner, without any prior arrangement, it suddenly becomes remarkable — that's the potential stuff of romance novels or Hollywood movies.

In the same way, if you are working from the premise of an omniscient, omnipotent being who can just point a finger and go "BAM! Universe!" then in a way, everything about that creation loses some of its enchantment. Of course things are amazing — if you are an all-powerful being who can make things however you damn well please, why would you bother making anything lame?

On the other hand, when you start from a premise of more or less random chaos, and then look at the world we have now, it's quite frankly astounding. Think of all the processes that had to come together in exactly the right way at exactly the right time to create the trees and plants in a tropical rainforest, the adorable housepets we film and put on YouTube, the gorgeous array of stars in a clear night sky. Think of all the physical, chemical, and biological machinations going on for thousands and thousands of years that took us from being apes poking things with sticks to being modern humans with complex societies, brains capable of speech, extensive abstract thought, and unparalleled potential for creativity and innovation.

If your favorite flower exists because an omnipotent being said, "Hey, we need some more color up in this place — ZAP — new flower!" then of course it's lovely, because why would it be anything otherwise? An omnipotent being has no reason to create mediocrity. But if that flower exists because somewhere down the line, a dozen or so generations ago, two different random species happened to be growing next to one another and got cross-pollinated, creating that exact shape, shade, and scent that makes the flower so beautiful to you — isn't that amazing? The wind could just as easily have been blowing the other way, and then the flower wouldn't exist. Isn't that something to appreciate and be thankful for?

Laura Ingalls Wilder is rolling in her grave.

Somewhere along the line, this clown named T.L. Tedrow decided he should write stories about Laura Ingalls Wilder (of Little House on the Prairie fame) as a grownup. The series is called The Days of Laura Ingalls Wilder and it is, in short, a whole lot of garbage. I picked the first one up at the library on a whim, because I am a huge dork and absolutely love anything related to the Little House books, and was appalled at how terrible it was. This evening, I spent a not insignificant amount of time writing a review on Amazon of said book (which certainly doesn't deserve to have this much thought dedicated to it), and since this is my blog and I can do what I want, I will now post this review for your edification and entertainment.

My review of Missouri Homestead (The Days of Laura Ingalls Wilder, Book 1)

I picked this up at my local library expecting something like the other spin-offs of the Little House series (the Martha, Charlotte, Caroline, and Rose Years books). I grew up reading and loving the original series, and I'm also a fan of historical fiction in general. Coming from that background, I was sorely disappointed and even upset by the liberties Mr. Tedrow has taken with this material.

First off, while I understand that historical fiction is by necessity "fiction," this book completely disregards the things we *do* know about the characters. Almanzo calling Laura "Laury" instead of "Bess" is particularly jarring. Also pointless and irritating was the name change of their farm from "Rocky Ridge" to "Apple Hill." Worse yet, Tedrow seems to completely ignore nine books' worth of existing characterization and turns the thoughtful, determined yet caring Laura into a headstrong, domineering harpy. "Demanding" indoor plumbing, indeed! Almanzo is similarly flattened, being presented as little more than a dimwitted hillbilly. Their relationship is turned into a cheap sitcom caricaturization in which their interactions seem to consist entirely of bickering.

Tedrow's own characters, the "Youngun" children, are absolute fluff. The simple fact that they have rhyming names - Larry, Terry, and Sherry - should clue you in to the level of thought that went into these caricatures. (Also, "Youngun"? Not a name. Just sayin'.) He clearly added them to add easy appeal to younger children, but they end up being just the comic relief, and have no bearing on the main plot.

Even worse is the character of Maurice Springer. I'm not sure why he's there at all, honestly, as he does nothing to progress the plot. It's also problematic that, as the lone black character in the books (apart from his wife, Eula Mae, who is little more than a name on the page), he seems to exist primarily to aid and abet the Youngun children in their hijinks. Whatever that is, it's not progressive.

Speaking of the main plot, it's paper-thin. Laura is writing a column for the local newspaper (which, to Tedrow's credit, she actually did do) and gets tangled up in a plot by some unscrupulous lumbermen to make it look like a fungus is attacking trees in the area so that they can cut down more of them. The bad guys as characters have all the nuance and depth of Snidely Whiplash; even for a children's book, I was disappointed. It read more like a cheap Nancy Drew knockoff than a Little House book.

In short, if the author hadn't requisitioned the Laura Ingalls Wilder name, this book would be mediocre at best - a useless but mostly harmless piece of juvenile fluff. As it is, I honestly think it's an affront to Laura's name, and the author should be ashamed of himself for trying to ride someone else's coattails, instead of writing a story that's actually worth reading.

Are you misquoting the Bible, or just the Kennedys?

_{(Or were the Kennedys misquoting the Bible, and everyone else is just confused?)}

To business. I've seen three versions of the same quote today; I will reproduce them here:

"To those who have been given much, much will be expected."

"To those whom much is given, much is required."

"To whom much is given, much is expected."

There exists the same problem in all three sentences; do you see it? Rearrange the second one and it becomes clearer:

*Much is required to those whom much is given.

Still confused? Try replacing the noun phrase (which is incomplete, for the same reason the sentences are wrong, which I'll explain below) with a simple noun:

*Much is required to George.

Now you see it, don't you? You can't require something to someone. "Expect" and "require" don't take an indirect object like that. I can't expect you some money, or require my friend luck, or anything like that.

The problem here is that there are two different verbs which require two different prepositions. You give something to someone, but you expect (or require) something from them. In this case, "expect" has lost its own preposition ("from"), so it stole "given"'s preposition ("to"), leaving the noun phrase "those whom much is given" woefully incomplete.

A correct (if slightly wordier) paraphrase would be, "From those to whom much has been given, much is expected." Or, more straightforwardly (although less poetically), "Much is expected from those who have been given much."

Regarding the post title, I've seen this quote attributed to many people, most often various Kennedys, but it originally comes from the Bible, specifically, the second half of Luke 12:48. In the NIV, it's translated as, "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked." The KJV says it thus: "For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required: and to whom men have committed much, of him they will ask the more."

It's a good sentiment; it deserves to be expressed properly.

hot fudge pneumonia

So, the problem with ordering a milkshake that has hot fudge in it is that inevitably some hot fudge will get stuck in your straw. So then you suck on the straw to try and get the hot fudge out, but once there's room for air to get through, you've still got a bunch of hot fudge stuck to the sides that just won't come out. So now you have a straw full of hot fudge that you can't eat. This is a problem.

So now I'm sitting here sucking on my fudge-straw like it's full of crack or something, and I just know I'm going to end up inhaling a bunch of fudge. I will probably choke and die. Or, failing that, I will end up with hot fudge pneumonia. They will take x-rays and be like, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but your lungs look delicious. It will probably be fatal."

Damn you, Steak 'n' Shake!

BIIIIIIIIIIcycle!

Bike season is officially here! I took a nice little pleasure ride before dinner, and then after dinner I rode to Wal-mart to get a new inner tube for my back tire, which has had a slow leak for a while now (and has already been patched once). It was quite pleasant, except for a bit on the way back when I couldn't see!

I'll elaborate - it was already dark out, and the street lights on Seminary are rather far apart. I've got a red blinking light on the back of my bike, but my headlight met an untimely death a couple summers ago, so while traffic could see me from behind, I hit a couple bumps that were rather larger than I was expecting, due to my not being able to see properly. (I know I ought to replace the light, but I ride at night so rarely that I'm a bit hesitant to shell out the dough.) But I was only on Seminary as far as the first cross street, and on the other streets, traffic was much lighter, and I managed to arrive home unscathed.

I always forget, when I've been stuck indoors for too long, that real biking is rather more work than the stationary bikes at the gym - not only are my legs tired, but so are my arms and back! It's a good tired, though. If I'm not too achy in the morning, perhaps I'll bike to work. I want to get back into that habit, since I'm lucky enough to live so close that's a viable option. Yay bikes!

Also, on a related note, naked ladies:

H*ck Finn

In case you haven't heard, a "Twain scholar" named Alan Gribben, with the help of a small publishing company called NewSouth, is publishing an edited version of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn which removes all instances of the "n-word," replacing it with the word "slave." Huck is a regular on lists of banned books, generally due to its use of this word, and Gribben says he hopes that its removal will let the book reach a wider audience by removing the offensive content. A laudable intention, I'll grant, but bowdlerizing Twain is not the way to accomplish it.

Gribben says the inspiration for the project came from comments he heard from teachers: "After a number of talks, I was sought out by local teachers, and to a person they said we would love to teach [Tom Sawyer], and Huckleberry Finn, but we feel we can't do it anymore. In the new classroom, it's really not acceptable." I would argue that the fault here lies not with Twain's language, but rather with the teachers. I read Huck Finn in high school, and it was not a big deal. The teacher did not make a speech of any sort before we read the book, and offered no disclaimers or apologies for its content; instead, we had spirited class discussion about the book, including the language used, its meaning, Twain's intentions as a satirist, and the implications of various aspects of the text, both in the 19th century and today. If students cannot understand the concept of context, then it is the teacher's job to explain it to them. If the teacher is uncomfortable talking about difficult subjects with their students to the point where they simply refuse to do it, then that person is not qualified be a teacher. Rather than "less offensive" books, we need teachers who are willing and able to properly teach their students, which for English teachers includes helping them examine satire, providing proper context for literature, and not shying away from problematic parts of books.

(As far as number of people reading the book, it is also worth pointing out that there is a not-insignificant number of people, including teenagers, who set out to read books precisely because they have been banned, as promoted by the ALA's Banned Books Week, among others.)

Gribben also added a personal anecdote about his daughter's experience with the book: "My daughter went to a magnet school and one of her best friends was an African-American girl. She loathed the book, could barely read it." I don't doubt it. But that is the very point: satire makes people uncomfortable. It points out societal problems, in the hope that ridicule will make people think about what is going on and hopefully eradicate the problem. It's the same thing Jonathan Swift was doing when he advocated eating babies, and it's the same thing Jon Stewart did a couple weeks ago when he pointed out the hypocrisy of the Republicans who were blocking the 9/11 responders health care bill in Congress. The fact that the n-word still makes people uncomfortable only shows that racism still exists today, and far from being censored or banned, books like Huck Finn neet to be read as they are so that people continue to think about these issues that make them uncomfortable, and what they can do to stop them.

Another thing to take into account is Twain himself. He was on the record numerous times during his life as being absolutely opposed to people changing his work. Furthermore, at the beginning of Huck Finn, he puts the following note:

IN this book a number of dialects are used, to wit: the Missouri negro dialect; the extremest form of the backwoods Southwestern dialect; the ordinary "Pike County" dialect; and four modified varieties of this last. The shadings have not been done in a haphazard fashion, or by guesswork; but painstakingly, and with the trustworthy guidance and support of personal familiarity with these several forms of speech.

I make this explanation for the reason that without it many readers would suppose that all these characters were trying to talk alike and not succeeding.

It says right there that the language used in the book's dialogue was done "painstakingly" — Twain knew what he was doing and he did it on purpose. And this isn't a matter of something being lost due to language change, either; he meant exactly what it sounds like to us today. Some words were considered perfectly acceptable in the past, and no longer are; for example, in the past, black people could be described as "colored" in polite conversation, but today that would be a faux-pas, at best. The "n-word" is not one of those words. It has never been anything but an insult, an offensive term for people thought to be inferior. The difference is that modern society has, for the most part, accepted that people are not superior or inferior because of race, and so it is no longer considered acceptable to use that word.

Removing the "n-word" from Huck Finn is tantamount to whitewashing. Sure, the racism is still there, but it's not nearly as viscerally affecting to hear someone called a "slave" as it is to hear them called a "n----r." The satire is rendered toothless when the ugliness it's pointing at has been removed. Sure, people who wouldn't have read the book before might be a bit more likely to read it, but what's the point if it's not the same book?

plastic bags

So, if you've ever been grocery shopping with me, you've probably heard me gripe about inefficient baggers. It's a pet peeve of mine. You know what I'm talking about — the checkout person who uses a separate bag for every. single. item. you've got, or who double bags your milk, even though it's already got a handle on it and really doesn't need a bag to begin with. I like to consider myself at least interested in the welfare of the environment, and while I know plastic bags aren't the worst sin in the world, I like using as few of them as possible. Plus, I hate having them lying around my house. Lately, I've finally started remembering to take my reusable cloth shopping bags with me, and I love them dearly. I've got a large one, a medium-sized one, and two small ones, and those four bags are big enough for just about any shopping trip.

Anyway. I just got back from Wal-Mart, where I did my weekly grocery shopping. Since I'm only shopping for myself this week (the boyfriend is home with his parents for break), I just took the one large one, figuring it would be plenty big.

I ended up buying a little more than I expected, because the frozen dinners I take to work for lunch were on sale, but I still didn't think it would be too much for my bag. Apparently the checkout girl did not agree, because she put some things in my bag, and then proceeded to use three more of the plastic bags (into one of which she put only a small bag of chopped walnuts).

When I got to the front door, I stopped and stacked the frozen dinners more neatly in the reusable bag, and lo and behold, there was suddenly plenty of room for everything I'd bought, minus the 1/2 gallon of milk, which I had planned to carry anyway. Then I walked over and dropped the three extra bags in the bag recycling bins.

I feel like this is becoming more and more common. Granted, I don't have any evidence to back this up, but just in my own experience, I don't remember my mother coming home with zillions of plastic bags every time we went to the grocery. In fact, we usually asked for paper bags.* Of course, most stores don't even have those anymore. But anyway, assuming the overuse of plastic bags is indeed becoming more common, I think these recycling bins are the problem.

Now, don't get me wrong, I think it's great that we can recycle these bags instead of just throwing them away (since most curbside services won't accept them), but the problem is that a lot of people don't. They forget to take them back to the store, or they just don't bother. But the people working in the stores think that it doesn't matter how many of them they use, because they can be recycled.

The three R's are "reduce, reuse, & recycle," in that order. The very first step should be to reduce the amount of materials we use in the first place. If there's less of the stuff lying around taking up space, then there's less to worry about recycling, or being leftover and going to a landfill. Next is "reuse," which a lot of people do with plastic bags, at least to some extent — you can use them to line small wastebaskets, and you can carry stuff around in them. But ultimately, they are flimsy and cheap, and you can only use them for so many things before they get holes in them or get really gross and you can't use them anymore. "Recycle" is the final step, the last resort: if you can't use it for anything else, recycle it and turn it into something new (in the case of most plastic bags, that will be composite lumber). Recycling is definitely an important step, but people must make the effort to do it, and it must be complementary to the other steps; it cannot replace them wholesale.

Ideally, I think every store should just be like Aldi's — make you pay (a little bit, but something) for every bag you get. It's not enough to be cost prohibitive if you need a bag, but it's enough to make you think, "Oh, hey, I don't need a separate bag for every single item I've got."

Also, they should implement Aldi's cart system — it's just a quarter, but somehow you never ever see carts sitting around in their parking lots. But that's a rant for another day.

_{*Paper bags have their own environmental problems, of course, but I like them better because they are bigger, sturdier, and eligible for curbside recycling. Also, if all else fails, at least they are biodegradable.}