I need details before I buy this bill of goods

Posted on July 21, 2021 by Thom

My disdain for memes as social-political discourse is well documented. So I was surprised the other day to encounter one that I found to be fairly effective. At least on the first pass. Then my analytical mind kicked in, and I quickly found the meme was perfect–at helping me identify some of the problems I have with this particular topic. Here’s the text of the meme:

No one is asking you to apologize for being white. No one is asking you to apologize for the sins of your ancestors. What we are asking is that you help dismantle the oppressive systems they built, that you still benefit from.

Now, I realize–and often argue–that memes are entirely insufficient for communicating complex or nuanced ideas or positions. Anything that will fit in a meme cannot possess the depth necessary to rise above the level of cheerleading for their own side. Seldom is there enough detail, enough sophistication of thought to amount to more than a rhetorical finger in the eye of the opposition. No serious thinker can expect minds to be changed by a mere meme.

That said, there is more to unpack in this one than usual. Let’s start at the last sentence, what I see as the heart of the argument. “What we are asking is that you help dismantle the oppressive systems they built, that you still benefit from.”

First of all, who is “we“? This is important because of what follows. Someone is asking for my help, but without a clear definition of who it is, how should I respond. I know who we’re supposed to assume “we” is: minorities–blacks specifically, and Liberals perhaps, since I hear many of the sentiments expressed here coming from them most often. The generic “oppressed.”

Unfortunately, that is not good enough. While there are people in each of those groups whose lead I would willingly follow, I fail to find any cohesive, all-encompassing purpose and objective in any of those groups as defined. Which blacks would be calling the shots here? Which liberals? Which oppressed people? Who “we” is matters.

Why? Because of what they are asking us to join them in doing: dismantling systems. Not fixing, not evolving, not improving–dismantling. This Ambiguous We has decided that nothing can be saved, that these systems they have judged to be oppressive (at least I assume it’s the same We making that judgment–more on that later) must be destroyed. End of story. They’re bad. Tear them down.

I may or may not agree with them–I don’t know! The Ambiguous We don’t tell us which systems are oppressive. There is no published “List” out there I can turn to. I’ve seen a few articles that identify pieces of systems as oppressive and/or racist, but entire systems? Please. Give me some hard details here. What systems do you intend to destroy? What makes them not just oppressive (and I assume disproportionately oppressive, as any time you have a majority passing laws or electing leaders that will also impact a minority you technically have oppression) but irredeemably so to the point we must obliterate them?

The only clues we’re given as to why is in the final clause: “that you still benefit from.” Again, this is incredibly ambivalent. They leave it to the reader to convict themselves–“Oh, they must be talking about me! I’d better self-evaluate and provide my own list of things from which I benefit, as those are evidently bad and come from evil systems!”

There are so many things wrong with that. The assumption is that a) if it benefits me, it must be oppressive, b) it does not benefit anyone from any other group, c) it must have been intentionally designed that way centuries ago, and hence d) in order to be fair no one should gain those benefits.

Oh, wait. That last point may be erroneous extrapolation on my part, based on the fact that the Ambiguous We want to tear down these systems, and make no mention of replacing them with anything. If we take that at face value, (which we shouldn’t,) we could assume that they indeed just want to put an end to particular benefits being awarded by the system to a single, unworthy group–a leveling of the playing field, so to speak, so that no one is benefitted.

That, unfortunately, would be at best unsophisticated thinking, and at worse, dangerous. The assumption seems to be that any of these given systems exist only to provide benefits to a single group and meanwhile provides no benefit to any other group. Tearing down these systems would only bring the Privileged down equal to everyone else, with no possibility of the Unprivileged sinking as well–or it would perhaps be acceptable to make things worse for everyone, so long as those on top fall the farthest.

But there is another alternative that, depending on who you are, would be even worse–or much, much better. Though it’s not mentioned in the meme, it could be that the Ambiguous We are planning, with or without the help they seek from the rest of us, to build up new systems to replace the ones we tear down. But what can we assume about these new systems?

The optimistic view would be that the replacement systems will be fair to everyone, being completely free of unintended consequences (a fair requirement, as the inherent argument of this meme seems to be that those who built the current systems did so intentionally, and that all the consequences we experience today were foreseen and planned for). Ideally, these new systems would not just bring the Privileged down to the same level as the Unprivileged, but provide the same benefits to all, equally, across the board. Again, the assumption is that this is possible, and the failure of the initial system designers to do so was a deliberate act on their part.

A less optimistic view is that however devious and evil the original system designers may have been, at least some of the problems with our current systems were indeed unforeseen consequences, rising from a lack of foresight, lack of wisdom, or a lack of perspective, coupled with imperfect implementation or deliberate tampering by subsequent generations. It is therefore possible that even with the benefit of modern perspectives, sensibilities, and greater appreciation of the complexities of the world in which we live, our new system architects will also fail to produce a perfect system, free of unintended consequences and future tampering or general entropy. They may even be subject to, dare we say it, their own prejudices and blind-spots that may lead them to imbue their own systems with unconscious-but-deleterious flaws .

Or worse yet, what if it proves out that mankind is not more enlightened than our forefathers? What if, for all our experience, sophistication, and modern sensibilities, we are still subject to the same frailties and follies of the past, manifest in different ways? What if the Ambiguous We give in to their baser natures and intentionally create systems that still bestow limited, focused benefits, but on a different subset of society? What if they replace our current oppressive systems with new systems that oppress just as much, but with a change of target? What if the general whole might have been better had they simply destroyed and not replaced?

A grim view, to be sure, but what else are we to presume in the lack of actual details? All we are left to know at present is that we are invited to join with someone we don’t know to tear down systems they’ve not identified for reasons not explained, and replace them with we know not what. Fool that I am, I find this argument uncompelling at best, frightening at worst–and not just for what I, the presumed beneficiaries of the current, corrupt systems, might lose, but for what all might lose. I know the Ambiguous We are certain I shouldn’t care for anyone but my own “group,” but like it or not, I fear for what havoc this undefined movement may wreak on any ethnicity, religious persuasion, or any other identity classification you could name who suddenly find themselves excluded from the Ambiguous We they had thought themselves a part of.

That is the danger of this vague, undefined movement we’re being invited to join–we just don’t know anything about it. All we know is how they view the world–or more specifically, their enemies. Indeed, the one detail they do provide is that they are convinced white people have a great deal to apologize for. They are convinced white ancestors were sinful–perhaps even the sole source of sin in our society. But they aren’t asking for our apologies. We’re way beyond that. The only penance they are interested in is our facilitating the destruction of all systems defined as providing white people any benefit.

Now I know this is a lot to derive from a single, simple meme. But that in itself is an indicator of the problem. I hear the same sentiment expressed regularly and loudly and at greater length–but never with any more detail. No movement can achieve and maintain a clear, concise focus for long, but so far I’m not even hearing from anyone who is trying. What I mainly hear is general agitation, slowly turning up the heat, bearing all the marks of racism– except it’s not, we’re told, because only white people can be racist.

Now, I know that the definition of racism has changed quite a bit in recent years, but that in itself should be a warning flag when the definition that has been abandoned is the one that was truly inclusive, the one that accepted that any group could be subject to racist or bigoted ideas. Real inclusivity is as much about the idea of that no race, gender, or other identity group is intrinsically good as it is that no race, gender or other identity group is intrinsically bad. Real inclusivity is the understanding that we all have value, and that we all share the capacity for folly and evil. Real inclusivity is understanding that we’re all in this together and need one another.

That is why I don’t support much of the current push to teach identity-centered theories in school–something that is a far cry from merely teaching history and discussing social relations so many claim it is. What is being pushed is precisely what that meme advocates: assignation of blame and the acceptance that those blamed are redeemable only by willingly participating in the complete overthrow of the systems that define our society as hopelessly tainted and without value.

Any honest person should recognize that is wrong on its very face. There are a significant number of The Oppressed who do not support that viewpoint. They may see flaws in the system, both in its design and its implementation, but they see the value as well, and they are not willing to run the risk of merely changing oppressors by tearing it all down. They are willing to work with anyone and everyone willing to help mend, to build, and to correct rather than to search and destroy.

These are the people I extend my hand to and pledge to work along side with, not the “Ambiguous We” and their intentionally ambiguous future. As much as they may want us to think so, the Ambiguous are not the only the only ones offering a solution–if they indeed even have one to offer. We should all consider carefully all the options before us, who is proposing them, and what their solution will look like. There are many paths to the future, but not all of them lead somewhere we’ll like. Choose wisely–and not from memes.

Note: on a related note, I found this video insightful and well-considered, and it tackles many of the issues I attempted to address–and probably does it better. I expected a rather one-sided argument, but was given a great degree of nuance and moderation, which I generally find more convincing. Binary thinking should always be suspect. If you’ve made it this far you’ve already devoted a great deal of time, and this…is not short. But I feel it’s time well spent.

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Wonder and imagination and growing old

Posted on May 21, 2021 by Thom

It’s been a little strange. Lately I’ve been having flashes of wonder. I’ll be reading a book, or just pondering my usual random stuff and it’ll trigger a memory of vivid emotions experienced in the past, usually in response to something I read. For example, just last night I was listening to an audio book when they mentioned the name of a region in the world and the translation of its name. I was suddenly struck by images of a dense, green, misty forest and an underlying feeling of mystery and…wonder. Of excitement and adventure.

What bothers me is that those memories seem to be rather old. I remember experiencing those feelings when I first read Terry Brooks’ “The Sword of Shannara” or Tolkien’s “Fellowship of the Ring.” I remember having those feelings listening to Enya’s “The Longships” or Thomas bergersen’s “Merchant Prince.” I recall the thrill of following Luke Skywalker through the wretched hive of Mos Eisley, through the corridors of the Death Star, or down the trench in an X-wing.

Most of these memories are old. That distresses me.

Am I growing too old, too experienced, too jaded to experience true wonder anymore? Am I doomed to experience it second hand through my own memories? Is this a reason why I struggle so much with writing? Am I running out of imagination to fire?

I sure hope not! If anything I need wonder and imagination more than ever, even if I’m not actively trying to be a writer. Imagination, if could be argued, is at the core of life–how can we make our life better if we can’t imagine how it could be? Wonder is perhaps less essential, but it still adds spice and magic to life, and helps keep us humble–perhaps even young.

But then perhaps I’m thinking too much. If I still feel a sense of wonder, even if it’s second-hand, via memories, is that really so bad? Is it not still wonder? Or perhaps it’s the feeling of wonder sparking the memory, and not the other way around. Maybe I need to stop worrying and just enjoy what comes.

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Love isn’t all we need, but it’s the beginning

Posted on May 7, 2021 by Thom

I’m old enough to remember when “Love is the answer” and “Love trumps hate” were the slogans of the day. They went out of style all too quickly–probably because they were never intended to be more than slogans. Actual love was never really tried.

I want to say we live in an age of quick solutions, but I suppose to be honest, has there ever been an age where anyone set aside the easy, quick fixes and looked first for the slow solution? In any case, I think that’s one reason why Love, as the answer, fell quickly out of favor. Love works slowly, and it requires far more work from the person trying to love the change into being than from the one they are trying to change. Love runs the risk of never initiating true change in someone else, and certainly not until it has been truly and thoroughly modeled for them.

Perhaps no one really realized that love is a verb, not a noun. It’s not some magic talisman to ward off vampires and political polar opposites. (“They mentioned LOVE! Aaaa! I’m melting! Oh, my beautiful wickedness!”) It doesn’t suffice for a group to claim that they have love on their side–certainly not if they show only anger or hate toward the other side. Loving only the people who are most like you isn’t going to change the people who aren’t.

What’s more, even as a verb, love is most effective in concentrated form. The fewer you focus your love on, the more powerful it is. Compare the speaker who gets up in front of the crowd and declares “I love you all!” with the person who sees a person in need and stops to help them. Both may be full of love and entirely sincere, but the more personal the love, the more powerful. It’s as simple and as difficult as that.

I’m reminded of the old fable where the sun and the wind got into a debate of which of them was stronger. They opted for a challenge to settle their dispute, in which they would each try to get a traveler to remove his coat. The wind went first, blowing on the traveler as hard as he could, attempting to blow the man’s coat off. The man only clung more tightly to his outer garment than ever, and eventually the wind gave up.

The sun then took his turn and beamed warmth down on the traveler. At first nothing happened, but eventually the traveler began to fan himself with the lapels, and then finally removed the coat altogether, draping it over one shoulder.

Now, I always rather suspected the contest was rigged, and the sun won simply by tricking the wind into accepting objectives under which he couldn’t win. But the allegory works well to reinforce my point. You don’t get someone to give up something by force, especially if they feel that something is what protects them from something unpleasant. You succeed by helping them feel their proverbial coat is not only no longer necessary, but actually making things more difficult for them. Even then, they may hang on to their coat for quite some time afterward, just in case it’s needed. Only if they go long enough without needing it will they finally give it up entirely.

Love does indeed trump hate, but first and foremost it really does have to be love–real love, directed toward the person whose hate you’re trying to discourage. Real love will, slowly, convince them their hate is no longer necessary, and perhaps even making things difficult for them. They’ll start to let it go, and eventually, if they feel safe enough long enough, leave it behind.

But who has that long? Who is willing to love that relentlessly in the face of hate? It’s uncomfortable and, at least initially, rather thankless. Those on your own side may even mistake your intentions and motivations and forget to continue loving you.

Right now we are experiencing a social conflict that, intentionally or collaterally, is pulling everyone in different directions, out to the extremes. It’s easy to see why. It’s easier to avoid the slings and arrows of those who see things differently than you and your tribe if you keep your distance from them. In the middle is where we are most vulnerable. Those in the middle tend to want to stay quiet, lest they get noticed and targeted. It can be a very uncomfortable place.

But love, as I said, isn’t nearly so effective on wide dispersion. You’re not going to change the group of people hugging the wall on the opposite side of the room by telling them you love them. You’re going to have to show them, and that requires getting closer, coming together in the middle, and focusing on just one or a few at a time. Black entertainer Tyler Perry recently accepted a humanitarian award, dedicating it to “anyone who wants to stand in the middle. Because that’s where healing, where conversation, where change happens. It happens in the middle.” In the middle, and one at a time. That’s how love changes the world. It’s slow. It may appear inefficient compared to just coercing others into doing what you want, especially considering that it requires you to change as well.

But it’s also more effective, more real, and more long-lasting. Love is the answer. Love does trump hate. But it’s not a one-and-done hand grenade. It’s not “tough love,” which usually only includes the “tough” part. It takes effort–often painful–to remove the impediments to that love that exist in our own souls. I requires abandoning our smug reassurances that we are right, and therefore exempt from having to offer love before the other shows they deserve it.

Love is not the easy way out. It’s the only way out.

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Whatever lights your boiler

Posted on May 5, 2021 by Thom

When I was a teenager I became a writer. My 7th grade English teacher got me started by assigning our class to write a short story. I had just finished reading a book over Christmas vacation that fired my imagination, and the assignment couldn’t have come at a better time. A few days later she took me aside after class and told me she liked my story and wanted to enter it in a city-wide competition. I was flattered, and eagerly agreed.

The short story, more of a thinly-veiled summary than an original work, got me an invitation to a one-day writing workshop for junior and senior high schoolers where we got to listen to presentations from real writers, culminating in an award ceremony. I was blown away when I won second place city-wide for my grade. I was also hooked.

My writing was intermittent after that, but I always made sure I had a new short story ready for the annual competition–and not just because I got to take a day off from school. As the fifth of six kids, I grew up somewhat in the shadow of my older siblings, and to find my own thing to be good at was a real confidence booster.

But for the most part I set writing aside after high school. Oh, I still wrote here and there. I’m even a little embarrassed to say that as a missionary for my church, assigned for a six-month stint as a clerk in the mission headquarters, I wrote my first novel. But in my mind I was done with writing for anything but fun. I knew, knew that so very few people actually made a living as a writer. I had yet to meet anyone who had. I needed to find something else for a career, and satisfied my tale-spinning urges by playing our own version of an MMORPG with my sister back before there was any such thing (it was just the two of us, but we each played several dozen characters each, and it was all tabletop).

In my late twenties I finally got around to graduating from college, got married, started a family, went back to school for a masters degree, found a new RPG group, and generally became too busy to think much about writing other than some fan-fic for a gaming forum. Then we moved to Salt Lake City, Utah. My kids were getting older and requiring a little less attention, and I no longer had my game group. I had some free time again. I had heard of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) for years, and decided to give it a try on a lark.

The point of NaNoWriMo is to write 50,000 words, about the size of a novella, or half the size of an novel, in a month. I grabbed an old idea inspired by an even older Enya song, and set out to write, on average, 1,700 words per day. I did it. I enjoyed it. I was hooked. Again.

I never did NaNoWriMo again. I didn’t have to. Motivation was no longer the problem. I wrote four more novels. About four years ago I decided I should start getting more serious about it and applied for a three-day workshop put on by a local university that brought in writers and editors from the professional community. Names I’d even heard of! It was the most amazing three days of my writing career.

It also killed it. I have struggled to write ever since. I’ve started at least a handful of novels, some multiple times, and not finished a single one. It’s been a painful experience. Writing was my dream, and yet my dream is dead. I’m not sure what happened. Did the workshop teach me to expect too much of myself, and thereby kill the fun? Perhaps. Has it become harder to find a consistent time to write? Definitely. Have I just not had ideas interesting enough? Maybe.

Or perhaps I’ve lost the fire. I may be remembering incorrectly or nostalgically, but I recall a time when I cared so much about my story that I couldn’t wait to write more. Now I do so more out of a sense of duty than anything else, and I get discouraged easily. Where I used to write 1000 words in a lunch-hour, I feel good about hammering out 500 (and I do mean hammering). I don’t understand it, and it makes me sad–mostly because I feel like abandoning one’s dream is tantamount to self-betrayal. And there are the people who believe in me who I’ll be letting down, which is worse than letting myself down, because I never believed in me to begin with.

But I’ve had it. I’m tired. Writing isn’t easy, of course, but it shouldn’t be this hard, either. It should be at least a little enjoyable. I think it’s time I set it aside, if only for a time.

I’m sorry this is a depressing post. I prefer to be motivational or inspirational, but sometimes you just have to admit that life isn’t always sunshine and roses. There are far too many aspects of my life that have lost their joy–maybe this is a midlife crisis. I don’t know. It’s not like I have a sudden desire to buy a red sportscar, or a motorcycle, or change careers, or start coloring my gray (I actually kinda like my gray–I like to pretend it makes me look wise and distinguished).

Maybe it’s just time I rediscovered what I do enjoy and focus on that for a while, with no expectations, no goals, just enjoy doing and being. My youngest son is fond of saying, “Whatever lights your boiler, Dad.” Well, perhaps it’s time I found out what that is. I could use a new head of steam.

What are your thoughts? How do you rekindle the joy you once felt in something once the fire has gone out?

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Anger is the mind-killer

Posted on April 12, 2021 by Thom

I try to spend some time each day studying scripture. Last year, between the riots and the election (but I repeat myself), I decided to study anger as addressed in The Book of Mormon, one of the texts in my religion’s canon along with The Bible and several other works. In the course of my study I also added “fury” and “wrath” as synonymous to “anger/angry.” I can’t say that I was entirely surprised by what I learned, but if nothing else, it was beneficial to reach some formal conclusions. Here are a few of them.

God gets angry – God is often threatening wrath, fury, and anger if people don’t behave. That said, He’s usually quite slow to deliver on that threat. He really would rather people straighten themselves out so He doesn’t have to. Smiting doesn’t usually happen until the people have been given plenty of warning and a few salvos across the bow, so to speak.

Even then, God doesn’t spend His time angry. He pours out his wrath and then He’s done. He doesn’t keep smiting a few more times for good measure. He delivers justice grudgingly and mercy liberally.

People do stupid things when angry – The Book of Mormon is full of accounts of individuals who get angry. Most of the time it’s the wicked who are getting angry, but there are several examples of otherwise righteous people getting angry as well. One of them is Captain Moroni, a believer who is generally revered as an awesome dude in our church. We’re told, for example, that if everyone was like him, Satan would have no power over mankind.

And yet Moroni, I’ve come to realize, is something of a hot-head. Not unjustifiably, mind you, but there are plenty of other examples who manage a much higher degree of patience in the very same situations. Let me give you an example. Moroni is the leader of the Nephite army, tasked with protecting his country against the Lamanites, a people descended from the same ancestors but, due to a nasty split centuries earlier and a long-standing tradition of hatred, determined to subjugate or eradicate the Nephites.

At one point, while the Nephites are caught up in internal strife, the Lamanites invade and succeed in conquering large swaths of Nephite territory. Moroni and his sub-commanders (which includes the prophet and leader of the Christian church) are engaged in a prolonged struggle to fend off further Lamanite assaults and, if possible, regain their lost cities.

One day the Lamanite king sends Moroni a letter offering to exchange prisoners. Moroni decides this is a good opportunity, and sets out to secure an agreement wherein the Lamanites will exchange a Nephite man and his family for every Lamanite warrior. But he lets his anger get the best of him once he starts writing a reply:

5 Behold, Ammoron, I have written unto you somewhat concerning this war which ye have waged against my people, or rather which thy abrother hath waged against them, and which ye are still determined to carry on after his death.

6 Behold, I would tell you somewhat concerning the ajustice of God, and the sword of his almighty wrath, which doth hang over you except ye repent and withdraw your armies into your own lands, or the land of your possessions, which is the land of Nephi.

7 Yea, I would tell you these things if ye were capable of hearkening unto them; yea, I would tell you concerning that awful ahell that awaits to receive such bmurderers as thou and thy brother have been, except ye repent and withdraw your murderous purposes, and return with your armies to your own lands.

11 But behold, it supposeth me that I talk to you concerning these things in vain; or it supposeth me that thou art a achild of hell; therefore I will close my epistle by telling you that I will not exchange prisoners, save it be on conditions that ye will deliver up a man and his wife and his children, for one prisoner; if this be the case that ye will do it, I will exchange.

Alma 54: 5-7, 11

It goes on, but you get the idea. Their exchange of letters devolves into a flame war and nothing is accomplished. Ultimately Moroni refuses to exchange prisoners. Once he cools down he starts thinking of other ways to rescue the Nephite prisoners, and ultimately succeeds in capturing the city where they are being held without taking a single Lamanite life. He really can be a merciful guy when he’s not angry. We overlook his temper because he succeeds, but a thorough study of what are referred to as the “War Chapters” reveals that things might have gone better for the Nephites in the long run had he not let his anger get the better of him on several occasions.

Another example comes near the end of The Book of Mormon when two kings of opposing peoples are locked in a bitter war that has laid waste to the land and most of the people. The two sides are so locked into anger and hatred that they can no longer think rationally. One of the kings comes to his senses enough to see where things are headed and actually offers to surrender the kingdom and put a stop to the war. But at that point the other king is so blinded by anger that he refuses. They continue their fight until they are the last two left alive. The former kills the latter, and then there is nothing left.

People manipulate others through anger – For a large part of The Book of Mormon (in pages, not in years covered) the Nephites establish a democracy, and it works fairly well for them. But there are regularly some who, seeking power, try to overthrow that democracy by either getting the people to vote for changes to the law (bringing back kings) or by outright revolution–or both. When things go badly for them they and their followers usually defect to the Lamanites, who invariably think defectors are cool and give them a measure of power.

On several occasions these defectors get the Lamanites angry at the Nephites and fan that anger until they are willing to go to war. The defectors are hoping the Lamanites will conquer the Nephites and appoint them to rule over them, and they don’t care how many Lamanites die to pull this off.

At one point in time the Lamanites have recently suffered a terrible defeat in one such war and were only allowed to return home safely if they promise not to attack the Nephites again. A few years later some of these defectors show up and try to convince them to go to war with the Nephites again. The Lamanites refuse, as they don’t want to break their promise or, for that matter, die. But rather than give up, settle down and live peacefully among the Lamanites, these defectors start spreading propaganda and lies in an attempt to get the Lamanites angry at the Nephites. In time it works, and they finally get so angry they put together an army and invade the Nephites. Again. And get their butts kicked. Again.

They knew it would happen. But they allowed other people to get them angry, and at that point their better judgment failed them. This happens again and again. The example related above, in which Captain Moroni led the Nephites against the Lamanites, was another case of this. In this instance the war dragged on for years, long enough for many of the Lamanite soldiers to forget their anger and why they were fighting. Toward the end they had no heart for it any more, and would surrender en masse, begging to be allowed to live among the Nephites rather than go back home where they would likely be used for cannon fodder all over again in a few more years.

The righteous resist anger– It’s as simple as that. Oh, I know, it’s not that simple. Heaven knows it’s not that simple. But it’s something they continually work at. And through their belief in Christ, the Prince of Peace, they are granted the peace to overcome anger. Consider this meditation by Nephi (the original Nephite):

27 And why should I ayield to sin, because of my flesh? Yea, why should I give way to btemptations, that the evil one have place in my heart to destroy my cpeace and afflict my soul? Why am I dangry because of mine enemy?

28 Awake, my soul! No longer  adroop in sin. Rejoice, O my heart, and give place no more for the benemy of my soul.

29 Do not aanger again because of mine enemies. Do not slacken my strength because of mine afflictions.

30 Rejoice, O my aheart, and cry unto the Lord, and say: O Lord, I will praise thee forever; yea, my soul will rejoice in thee, my God, and the brock of my salvation.

31 O Lord, wilt thou aredeem my soul? Wilt thou deliver me out of the hands of mine enemies? Wilt thou make me that I may shake at the appearance of bsin?

2 Nephi 4: 27-31

Nephi’s “enemies” were his own brothers, seeking to kill him. He had lived with their anger for many years. They had tried on several previous occasions to kill him. He knew the power of anger, and he knew what it would do to him if he indulged in it. I’m sure he slipped from time to time. But he knew it was to be avoided.

Centuries later a prophet named Alma would be forced to watch as all the righteous women and children in a city were thrown into a fire by their wicked leaders. He and his companion, Amulek, were thrown into prison, beaten, stripped naked, and starved for days afterward. However they managed it, they didn’t get angry–at their captors, or at God. They left the anger to God who, through Alma and Amulek, had warned the city of its impending doom if they didn’t repent. When God’s anger came, it came with both pinpoint accuracy (destroying the prison and the wicked leaders come to torment them, while sparing them alive) and swift thoroughness (Lamanites attacked the city and destroyed everyone still there).

Decades after that a Nephite leader named Pahoran found himself on the receiving end of one of Captain Moroni’s angry rants when the military leader thought Pahoran was the reason why the armies weren’t getting the support they needed in the middle of the war. Pahoran refused to be angry and instead drew courage from the letter to do something had been reluctant to do–go to battle against a Nephite faction who had seized the capital and was sabotaging the war effort.

In Short – Only God is perfect enough to wield anger appropriately. For all of us, His children, anger is something to be avoided. Nothing positive comes from anger–certainly nothing that couldn’t be accomplished at least as well, if not better, with calm, rational effort. Anger may feel good in the moment, and the resulting power of intimidation may be heady, but any short term gains invariably undermine long-term success.

Furthermore, we should be aware and wary of attempts by others to get us angry. At best they are trying to get us into a state where we won’t think clearly. At worst they are trying to manipulate us into action that invariably benefits them–and usually only them. It can feel frighteningly good to be part of an angry crowd, but as the Lamanites found quite often, it goes wrong rather quickly, and it’s usually not those who are stirring you up to anger who pay the price.

Anger, however, doesn’t have to rule us. We can, by conscious effort, master our anger and free our minds from its tyranny. We can avoid falling prey to those who would use our anger for their own ends.

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One Year and Counting

Posted on April 9, 2021 by Thom

I know, everyone is looking back at the past year and lamenting about COVID-19 and all the other horrors visited upon us by 2020. Hopefully I won’t do that. And hopefully I won’t come off as humble-bragging, either. I can’t really take much credit for anything over the past year, good or bad.

It just seems strange to me that just over a year ago I was so optimistic about what was to come. Yes, I was a little concerned when they announced at work that we would all be working from home for the next couple of weeks while we flattened the curve. That didn’t seem overly traumatic. I didn’t particularly want to work from home, but I could make it work for a few weeks.

Now, over a year later, my state is finally getting our number of new cases back down around where it was this time last year. I remember back when 175 new cases in one day was a terrible development, not something to heave a sigh of relief over. But really, I’d have to say it’s all be merely inconvenient for my family and me. We’ve been quite fortunate, and I feel somewhat as though I should feel guilty about that.

None of us lost our jobs, not even my teenage son working at a restaurant. None of us got sick, though one son was quarantined twice. Our children were able to continue with school with some adjustment, but their educational path wasn’t interrupted or sidetracked for long. Our church adapted and, while I’ve missed seeing everyone, we still get our regular weekly worship. We survived the major shortages and continue to roll with the punches as the unexpected rolling shortages that have raised their occasional heads.

Some of our sons’ sports events were canceled, but not for long. My oldest son was even able to get his Senior Prom experience. Some of our travel plans were put on hold–and remain so. We’re fortunate enough to live in a state that was able to strike a reasonable balance between caution and function. That’s easy for me to say, of course, but then I never bought into the whole “if it saves one life” mentality that led some states to implement much stricter policies that don’t seem to have helped that much more.

And that leads us to the one thing that has made this past year seem at all difficult: the constant fighting. Thanks to the ubiquity of social media we were all in each other’s faces the entire year–probably a lot more than we would have otherwise. A presidential election didn’t help with that in the slightest. A lot of frustrations from the year boiled over, with a lot of people looking to take it out on one another. Once the dust settled and a new president took office there were the usual calls for unity and coming together, but as I feared, the promise to be the president of all Americans didn’t survive the next news cycle. It became clear that “unity” was just another word for “just stop resisting us.” For both sides. Nothing has changed politically. The moment of goodwill, if there was one, was squandered.

In spite of all that, I remain optimistic. The trick is to live where you are. Where I live my neighbors are all good people. People still engage in small kindnesses to one another and, to the best of my knowledge, don’t agonize over who their benefactor may have voted for. In fact, most people I talk to don’t even talk about politics. I don’t know why we are so different online, but in person people still seem to observe the old maxim of not discussing politics or religion (or the Great Pumpkin).

I’ve given up on life making sense at the national level. After all, we’re encouraged to get the vaccine (which I have, both rounds), and yet we’re told that the vaccinated still have to observe all the precautions as the unvaccinated. If nothing changes, why bother with the vaccine, I have to wonder. But that is neither here nor there. The more I define my life by what I don’t have, can’t do, or don’t approve of, the less happy I’m likely to be.

The truth we all live with, but try to ignore, is that everything could be taken from us in an instant. An unusually large rock that NASA didn’t spot in time could wipe us all out much more quickly than anyone’s politics could. We could survive the worst that COVID could throw at us and still die crossing the street. Just because the past year has emphasized the fragility of life doesn’t mean “normal” life hasn’t been nearly as tenuous all along. Heck, my cats have been trying to kill me for years. During the past year I underwent open heart surgery with a much higher chance of death than of my dying from COVID.

The point is there is plenty in life that will distract us from living if we let us. There’s plenty in politics that will divide us when we don’t need to be divided. There’s far more to worry about than we have time to worry over. Better to enjoy life–and each other–while we can. Better to stop waiting for the government to solve all our problems and just go out and do something to make someone’s life a little easier. Better to step outside, take a deep breath, and look around for some unexpected beauty. It’s there to be found.

We have no way of knowing what the next year will bring. Why wait to find out? Why let life just happen to us? Let’s go out and make life on our terms.

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20 Days, 20 Albums

Posted on June 14, 2020 by Thom

I was recently challenged on Facebook to post, over 20 days, 20 albums that have influenced me, but without any explanation. You know me better than that! To be passionate about something to voluntarily participate in a Facebook trend and not say anything about it?! Hah! You may as well tie me up and place one of my wife’s snowball cookies, warm from the oven, inches from my mouth but never let me have it!

#1 – Eye in the Sky – The Alan Parsons Project – I first heard this album in Rodney Chandler’s light blue Volkswagen beetle somewhere in the mid-1980’s. It was unlike anything I’d heard to that point, including my sisters’ “controversial” music like Bread and Bachman Turner Overdrive. This was introspective, almost introverted music compared to the pop music of the day, and sometimes with orchestral backup. I was astounded. I was hooked. I believe this may have been the very first album I loved enough–and dared to risk Mom’s displeasure over–to actually buy for myself. Up until then I’d gladly leeched off my older brother. And while many of their hits do go mainstream, they always seemed just enough outside the mainstream to be a bit edgy, a bit indie. I believe this was the very first step I took in defining my own musical tastes, and I own most every album the produced from the late ’70’s into the early ’90’s.

#2 – Moonlighting – The Rippingtons

I probably shouldn’t have discovered The Rippingtons. I first heard their music in Australia while I was a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Our mission president had somewhat lax rules on music, but I’m not sure if he would have agreed with Elder Frederick that the Rippingtons were spiritually uplifting. But he had several of their albums, we had a common interest in music, and we were in Cairns, gateway to the Great Barrier Reef. The Rippingtons, or at least this album, will always be connected in my mind to soft tropical evenings, drinking root beer or eating Frenzy Cones on the Cairns Esplanade. This was my first introduction to Jazz, and I was hooked. I branched out into some of the other artists on this album, like David Benoit, and my exploration has continued ever since.

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#3 – Gloria – John Rutter – I was a music major in college, mostly singing in choirs. We performed the Rutter “Gloria” once with the full orchestration. It’s a wonderful piece, and very fun to sing, but the middle movement, “Domine Deus” is a masterpiece; majestic, powerful and moving. It’s probably one of the reasons why I decided I couldn’t be a professional musician. I get too emotionally invested in the music and get all choked up. Not good when you’re expected to be making beautiful sounds.

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#4 – Chess: The Musical (Original London Soundtrack)- Benny Andersson, Tim Rice, Bjorn Ulvaeus – One of the greatest musicals I’ve never seen. Perhaps it’s still this way today and I just don’t notice, but the 1980’s seemed a golden age of Musicals getting airplay outside of London or New York. Or maybe I was just plugged into the musical scene back then. In any case, this musical hit while I was in my teens. It was totally cool: centered on chess players, the Russian was actually the good guy, the music was emotional and powerful, and it even got a song or two on the Top 40! It was also….very depressing. No one ended happily. I understand they changed it a lot when it actually came to Broadway and I’ve never bothered to listen to the “Americanized” version. For a long time, though, the London version was my go-to album for getting out of depression. I’d put it on my headphones, crank it, and wallow in the passion until I couldn’t stand it any more. Then I’d pick myself up, dust myself off, and get back to life.

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#5- Upright – Philip Aaberg – I first experienced Philip Aaberg as a school assignment. As a music major, I had to attend so many concerts per semester besides my own. He happened to be giving a free concert at the University, so I went. I soon wondered if I’d made a mistake. This was when New Age was hitting its peak, and all the yuppie intelligentsia were there. And then Mr. Aaberg came on stage in a black tux jacket airbrushed in pastels. But then he sat at the piano and began doing things to it I had no idea was possible for only two hands. He put his heart and soul into her performance, and the music was amazing. He was considered New Age but you really can’t pin him into a genre. His career as a studio and tour musician took him in all sorts of directions, and it shows. I bought and loved several of his albums, but then came “Upright” and blew them all away. Part Jazz, part boogie, part soul ballad, he continues to beat the snot out of a piano and make it wonderful. His solo piano version of his song “Slow Dance” was worth the cost alone.

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#6 – Fresh Aire III – Mannheim Steamroller – When my older sister was in college she discovered this odd new album in the Music Department’s listening library. She brought it home for the family to listen to, and before long someone had bought their own copy. I was a young punk at the time, and remember then being more excited about the up-beat, rock-like songs, but over time I grew to appreciate the slower, more nuanced pieces and the sweeping orchestral compositions. Today I have Fresh Aire I – VII. I didn’t continue past that, as by that time Chip Davis had gone solo, electronic, and commercial (something that started around VI and VII). There is still much to love in I – V, and I’ll get them out and dust them off every so often.

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# 7 – Nights from the Alhambra – Loreena McKennitt – I’ve been a fan of Loreena McKennitt from the moment her “Mummers Dance” first hit the radio in the late 1990’s. Her spin on old folk music and traditional songs are terrific, and her own compositions are very well done. She’s a true musician, and her vocal style is both unique and eloquent. I cheat a little with “Nights from the Alhambra,” though not entirely. This is a live concert album, which presents a cross-section of most of her albums so I don’t have to pick a favorite album. At the same time, being a live concert, musical moments happen here that don’t on some of her album cuts and songs I never cared that much for before gain a new power. For example, the live version of Caravanserai never excited me until I heard the live version, and now it’s my favorite song of hers.

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#8 – Revolutions – Jean-Michel Jarre – I stumbled across this album in Australia as well, probably on Elder Fredrick’s recommendation again, though I believe he only recommended Jarre in general. I just happened to find this one in a used music store and picked it up on the cheap. I love this album primarily for the Industrial Revolutions suite and the incredible mood it sets. Months later I was in an area with a laser tag arena where we could play unlimited games for two hours for $10, or something as ridiculously cheap. The proprietor would let us bring our own background music, and I’d get him to play this as often as I could. It fit so well. The piece is a wonderful example of the musicality of sampled noise, and how to heighten the drama by layering motifs and rhythms, instrumentation and pitch ranges. The rest of the album goes very much in a different direction, and didn’t excite me as much, but those first sixteen minutes of music remain some of my favorites.

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#9 – Happy Together – The Nylons – The Nylons burst on the scene in 1987 while I was in high school, and their hit “Kiss Him Goodbye” made them instant fans across the country, to say nothing of the choir room where I spent most of my time. But my best memory was when they came to Boise, Idaho during the Boise River Fest. For the cost of two tanks of gas I could sleep on my brother’s couch and see The Nylons for free! They most certainly did not disappoint. Of course a couple of long-time singers like my brother and me couldn’t resist, and on the shuttle bus ride back to his end of town we got an impromptu vocal concert of our own going–and enough other riders joined in no one dared toss us off the bus! I think that was the start of many happy trips to Boise for the River Fest.

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#10 – Ted Yoder – Ted Yoder – I was first introduced, musically and personally, to Ted Yoder in my brother’s front yard. Ted was on a tour of the West and had agreed to do a couple concerts in Utah, one of which being at my brother’s house. I’m sorry to say the crowd wasn’t as big we’d have liked, but this was before the Great Conjunction of hammered dulcimer, raccoon and Tears For Fears made Ted a viral, household name. Ted is about the nicest guy you’ll ever know, and a fine musician. His “Yoderized” covers are excellent, but his own compositions are possibly even better. He manages to get a lot of notes out of one instrument with two hammers (“And some of them are even correct!” he’d probably say), and his music manages to be upbeat and relaxing simultaneously. I was pleased to see him playing to much larger house last year when he came back through. The man deserves his success, and I hope it keeps coming.

#11 – Bretonne – Nolwenn Leroy – This is one of my first departures into foreign language artists. I discovered Ms. Leroy on YouTube. I believe she was a EuroVision Song Contest winner in younger days, but while her catchy pop tunes were…catchy…it was a couple videos from this album that really caught my attention. I took a bit of a risk and bought the entire album, and I wasn’t disappointed. She has an amazing, versatile voice, applied with artistry uncommon among pop singers. The gets the art of subtlety. Incidentally, I did a review of this album around eight years ago which, while not my most popular post, was as close as I’ve come to going viral. A Nolwenn Leroy fan site found it and linked, and for a few days I was very popular!

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#12 – Come On Over – Shania Twain – When my wife and I were courting she introduced me to Country music, starting with Shania Twain. I started broadening my horizons a bit and soon realized that there was even better stuff out there. Colin Raye, Terri Clark, Phil Vassar, Martina McBride, George Strait, Lonestar–for a while I was into Country in a big way. I still have some favorites I have to revisit now and then. Terhi kinda abandoned me after awhile, and I lost interest, as I always do when my need is fed by radio. They focus on the same songs over and over for months to where I get sick of hearing the same stuff all the time. Since then Country seems to have gone even farther afield, which is unfortunate. I haven’t listened to anything new in a long time.

#13 – Solar Echoes – Nigel Stanford – Like a lot of people, I was first introduced to Nigel Stanford by the Cymatics video on YouTube. I liked it enough I bought the album, and we took it with us on the family vacation to Grand Teton National Park. Though the album is space themed, it really fits well with driving through epic landscapes. It remains one of my go-to background music albums, and when Stanford released his second album (Automatica) I was all over it. That one proved to be more of a vocal album than I was expecting, and Solar Echoes is still may favorite.

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#14 – Áššogáttis – Sofia Jannok – A few years ago I became interested in joik, a traditional song style of the Sami people of Northern Scandinavia, and YouTube served up several interesting examples. Sofia Jannok was one of them. After sampling several of her songs I decided to buy an album. She’s got a fascinating mashup of styles; part joik, part pop, part Jazz. She’s also got a great, versatile voice. I haven’t picked up any other albums yet, but she’s on my list.

#15 – Wintergatan – Wintergatan – I imagine just about everyone has seen the Marble Machine video by now. That’s how I discovered Martin and his amazing talent for music and engineering. Then I discovered a few more of his songs. Marble Machine was not even his best stuff. So I bought the album. And I watched patiently as he began designing the Marble Machine X, the new-and-improved model that he planned to take on tour. It’s now 128 episodes of Wintergatan Wednesday later and the MMX is still not done, but Martin is also building a new studio, so one way or another we might get some new music soon. I’m getting impatient. The machine is cool–way cool!–but I want more music already!

#16 – She – Harry Connick, Jr. – I was first introduced to Harry Connick, Jr. in his big-band phase, with albums like “We Are In Love.” Then “She” came along, and I really had no words to categorize it. It’s eclectic, it’s funk-y, it’s poetic, it’s…”She.” I had no idea just how much lyricist Ramsey McLean contributed to that album until they had their artistic differences and went their separate ways after this album. The next ones just lacked something. I wish they could have worked it out and given us at least one more in the same vein, but…no. At least we got “She.”

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#17 – The Dream of the Blue Turtles – Sting – I had barely heard of The Police growing up, so I’m not sure what possessed me to pick up Sting’s solo debut. I suspect filling out my Columbia House record club initial purchase may have had something to do with it. In any case, though I don’t always follow him closely, that began a musical infatuation that has lasted 35 years. The man is a musical storyteller extraordinaire. Every song is alive with imagery and bursting with narrative. He can take Renaissance madrigals, insert himself into the period, and somehow sound more authentic than any other renditions I’ve heard. He takes old Police quasi-punk ballads and turns them into sensitive art pieces. He is equally at home with French rapper and old English folksongs. I hesitate to call anyone a musical genius, but he may well be one.

#18 – Invincible – Two Steps From Hell – I believe I have my friend Matt Martin to thank for this wonderful find. He introduced his daughter, who introduced my daughter, who introduced me, and that was it. I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise that people who write movie trailer music would suck me in. They specialize in setting emotions and moods with just a few notes, and they do it amazingly well. Thomas Bergersen, one of the two founding members, has begun breaking out into–I don’t want to say “solo” work for some reason, but that’s what it is. Anyway, he’s branching out into longer works, and has learned to paint with an emotional palate that I can’t get enough of. I probably own more albums by TSFH or Thomas Bergersen than any other group or artist–even Sting!

#19 – The Piano Guys – The Piano Guys – I was a little late to the “Piano Guys” party, but got fully on board once I found them. The quality of their videos on YouTube really helped sell me, but their music is also wonderful by itself. I love the cello, especially, and Steve Sharp Nelson gets the most wonderful sounds out of his quiver of instruments. He also looks like he’s having the time of his life in every video, which after an entire day shooting is no easy feat. Their arrangements are amazing, and I particularly enjoy their mashups. They’ve helped introduce me to other great artists like Lindsey Sterling, Alex Boye, and Lexi Walker. Perhaps of late they’ve become a little too famous and are starting to leave me behind a little, but I will always enjoy the heck out of the albums I have.

#20 – Star Wars – John Williams – Star Wars would not have been Star Wars without the John Williams score. Those opening bars still thrill me to this day. Thanks to Williams, I discovered the joy of movie soundtracks at an early age, and still check the credits of every movie to see who did the music. We have a new guard of top composers these days, but for quite a while any movie worth watching was scored by Williams or James Horner. I didn’t realize it at the time, but while feasting on Star Wars I was laying the groundwork for my love of classical music at the same time. In many ways, the Star Wars soundtrack was one of the first significant pieces of music in my life.

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7 days, 7 books (plus Bonus Content)

Posted on June 11, 2020 by Thom

I was recently challenged on Facebook to post, over 7 days, 7 books that have influenced me, but without any explanation. You know me better than that! To be passionate enough about something to voluntarily participate in a Facebook trend and not say anything about it?! Hah! I was also challenged simultaneously to do the same things with 20 albums if you want to check that post out when it comes later.

#1 – The Cardinal of the Kremlin – Tom Clancy – I read this in my teens. I had read at least one other book from a very different perspective than I was accustomed (ie. a Star Trek novel about a Klingon rather than the usual main characters), but this book was entirely different. This story was told from multiple perspectives, some American, some Russian, and often in direct conflict with one another. Nearly every single perspective was well-realized, relatable and completely sympathetic. In short, with very few exceptions, there were no bad guys in this book, just real people with different experiences, objectives, and viewpoints that were sometimes irreconcilable with one another. That blew me away and opened my eyes to what writing could be.

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#2 – Pattern Recognition – William Gibson – This is perhaps the most bizarre intersection in my literary life. I love precisely one book from William Gibson, and it happens to be the very first book I ever encountered by him. It’s difficult to explain what this book means to me and why. I’m not even sure if I would have enjoyed it so much if I hadn’t experienced it on audio. Shelly Frazier fully comprehends Gibson, and her delivery turns the book into this amazing mass of stark contrasts, heart-wrenching beauty, delicious discoveries, grief, mystery, shared obsessions, glimpses of wealth and power both alluring and frightening, and an ending simultaneously poignant, sad, anti-climactic, and satisfying. I’ve read and listened to other Gibson novels, including the other two books in this “trilogy,” and the lightning has left the bottle for good. They can be interesting, but they don’t touch me the way this one did.

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#3 – The Lord of the Rings – J.R.R. Tolkien – This probably doesn’t need much explanation. What fantasy/sci-fi writer hasn’t been influenced by Tolkien? I certainly know people who find him boring, and I’ll admit to having skimmed through some parts myself, but the man literally wrote the book on fantasy. Very few have come close to capturing that same sense of grandeur, of timelessness, of nobility in the face of certain defeat, of a world steeped in magic and lore. I’ve never set out to be the next Tolkien any more than I’d want to be the next Brandon Sanderson (though I wouldn’t mind at all being the next Michael J. Sullivan), but it was Tolkien who first opened my eyes to the possibilities inherent in storytelling.

#4 – John Adams – David McCullough – If you think politics is nasty today, this book may change your perspective. The idea of “fake news” got its start WELL before modern times. But I digress. John Adams is one of my favorite people, thanks to this biography. Landed gentry, lawyer, statesman, philosopher, and one of the more un-sung of the Founding Fathers, he and Abigail (they really were a team ahead of their day) practically dragged the United States of America into being by themselves. A man of deep integrity and fair-mindedness, he did what he believed was right, no matter the cost. His relationship with Thomas Jefferson is fascinating reading: Friends, to enemies, to friends in old age, eventually dying on the same Fourth of July. It’s a great read to help you realize just how much we take for granted today: America as we know it very nearly didn’t happen.

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#5 – Speaker for the Dead – Orson Scott Card – This remains my favorite Card book. I’ve enjoyed a lot of his other works, but this one impacted on my brain at the right time. The concept of Speaking, the xenobiology of Lusitania, the psychological tensions, Jane, religious belief in science fiction where they didn’t turn out to be the bad guys, and the whole big cathartic ending blew me away in my teen years, and continues to blow me away in my adult years. If Card has written anything else like it I’ve yet to read it, though his Ender’s Shadow series comes close at times. I’ve heard that this was the book Card wanted to write, but decided to develop his main character first through a short story called “Ender’s Game” that became a lot bigger than he anticipated. I’m glad for “Ender’s Game,” but this was on another plane entirely.

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#6 – Theft of Swords – Michael J. Sullivan – My brother bought me this book for Christmas one year. I think I may have procrastinated reading it–it was from a self-published author, so how good could it be? Well, I was wrong. Fourteen books later I am a devoted Sullifan, and as much a fan of Sullivan and his wife, Robin, as of his books. You see, Michael J. Sullivan engages with his readers better than anyone else I’ve seen. He writes the stories he wants to write (and Robin wants to read), but he cares deeply about his fans’ enjoyment. He’s also the King of the Fantasy Kickstarter, having successfully crowdfunded seven projects, most of which not only set Kickstarter records, but several have become New York Times Bestsellers. But most importantly to me, he is a personal inspiration. He wanted to be a published writer for a long time, but got frustrated and quit for at least ten years. He started writing again just for his daughter, but his wife saw what he produced and had other plans. His success has been slowly building ever since. If there is any writer out there I would like to be like, I think he is the most likely model to copy. I love his writing. I love the team he and Robin have become. I love seeing good people succeed and be rewarded for being good people.

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#7 – The Book of Mormon – trans. Joseph Smith – I suppose this could be something of a cheat, because in my mind this also includes The Holy Bible. I consider both books to be the word of God and fundamental to my religion and who I am. But in many ways The Book of Mormon manages a clarity that the Bible sometimes lacks, especially around who Jesus Christ is, what His mission was all about, and our relationship to Him. A spiritual history of a branch of Israel led out of Jerusalem around the time of King Zedekiah to the American continent, it serves as another testament of Jesus Christ and His dealings with His people.

This concluded the official challenge, but I decided to take it further and post bonus content! Because I’m just generous that way. And because it seemed unfair to books to continue doing 13 more albums when I probably own as many or more books than I do albums. So….

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Second Foundation – Isaac Asimov – I know I read the Foundation Trilogy when I was a teenager, and I remember enjoying them thoroughly, but this is the novel I most remember. And no, not just because I developed a minor crush on Arkady as depicted by Michael Whelan, and probably not just because I could relate to her character as a teenager. I recall the novel being a lot of fun, and the plot twist at the end being especially delightful. I read “Prelude to Foundation” years later and recall that one was a great read, too. My in-laws gave me a special edition of the Foundation Trilogy as well, which I keep among my most treasured books.

The Sword of Shannara – Terry Brooks – My brother-in-law Scott, who was, is, and always will be the coolest of guys, gave me this book for Christmas on year, and I had it finished–perhaps for the second time-before the break was over. I remember reading almost constantly, at any rate, because I couldn’t put it down. And at 726 pages, it was probably the largest book I’d read to that point. Within a year or two when I reached seventh grade I would steal horribly from it when I wrote my very first story for the school district’s Young Authors Conference competition, where I won second place in my grade–and would proceed to place on average second place for every subsequent year through my senior year. I read the next couple books in the series, and then tried his first Landover novel and pretty much departed for other paths at that point, but it’s the book I most credit with starting me on the path of writing.

Han Solo at Stars’ End – Brian Daley – I was nine when this came out, and I’m pretty sure I read it that year–it was a Christmas present. At that age I couldn’t get enough of anything Star Wars, though I recall “Splinter of the Mind’s Eye” was just weird and, while a good story, never quite felt right. This, however, was very much Han Solo to me. This was probably about the point I discovered the world of tie-in novels, and while Star Trek got there first and most prodigiously, this one of the first and most-beloved. And short. That helped a lot at that age.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe – C.S. Lewis – This is probably the first book I ever owned, and at least some of the series I bought with my own money. My best friend in second grade, Doug Maxfield, introduced me to them, and suddenly we had something in common besides Star Wars. I absolutely adored these books and have reread them all many times. I’m a little disappointed they didn’t catch on with my kids so much, but…well, you can’t have everything, I suppose.

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The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn – Mark Twain – Yes, that’s right, I read The Book. In high school, no less. Oddly enough, I was able to tell, even at that young, impressionable age that Twain was making a strong statement against slavery and racism even while cloaking it all in the conventions of his time. It was a subversive novel, and I can’t help but think all the modern critics are being intentionally blind. In any case, I thoroughly enjoyed it–so much, in fact, that I gave up trying to finish it on my teacher’s timeline and instead took my time–and still hadn’t finished it by the time we had the test on it. I got a B anyway.

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The Way of Kings – Brandon Sanderson – Sanderson is know first and foremost for his magic systems, but only slightly less so for his world-building. “The Way of Kings,” first book in his “Stormlight Archive” epic is a completely immersive experience I’ve not experienced since Frank Herbert’s “Dune.” But most importantly he got me to care about the characters. I love that these are more or less normal people caught up in circumstances way beyond their ability to comprehend and are forced to rise to the occasion. At 1200+ pages per book it’s not for the faint of heart, but the stories are immensely satisfying.

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The Final Reflection – John M. Ford – As a middle-grade and YA reader I really enjoyed the Star Trek novels. I think I read most of the ones the library had at the time, though eventually I got behind. I even enjoyed the ones that barely even mentioned the “main characters,” which is probably one reason why I got so heavily into the Star Trek RPG a few years later. But to this day this one stands out above the rest. At the time it was mind-blowing: an entire novel about a non-main character, and a Klingon to boot! A Klingon that played chess and actually cared about peace! Ford really stood my expectations on end and pulled off a great read in the process.

I Am Not a Serial Killer – Dan Wells – This is one of those books I bought because I liked the author. That happens frequently around here. There are a lot of authors in Utah. Anyway, YA Suspense/Horror probably isn’t my bag, but daaaaaaang! Dan Wells knocks it out of the park with this debut. He takes a sociopathic main character and gets you inside his head to where you feel the emotions he’s incapable of feeling. I haven’t been this tense reading a novel since childhood. Wells winds you up, lets out some pressure, winds you up tighter, let’s out some… well, you get the idea. I’ve read the rest of the series, which is good, but it’s really hard to follow this one up with…anything.

Dandelion Wine – Ray Bradbury – This was given me by a good friend in college. I’d read Bradbury before, but this was something…more. This book encapsulated childhood so well I practically lived through the eyes of Douglas Spaulding, and mourned along with him at the dying of the magic in the world. I think it just hits me harder and harder the older I get. Children never really appreciate what they’re leaving behind–they’re in a big hurry to become grown-ups–and may not even realize it’s gone until it’s far too late. Oh how I wish Greentown existed and that I had the portal to get there. But then I remember the the Happiness Machine, and Colonel Freeleigh, and realize that this book is as close as I’ll ever get. And that’s good enough.

Word Puppets – Mary Robinette Kowal – I love Mary Robinette Kowal’s writing (I’m rather fond of Mary Robinette as a person, too, from my brief associations with her). I even got to read her novel “Valour and Vanity” practically as it fell from her word processor. I’m consuming her “Lady Astronaut” series as fast as she can put them out (and she does an incredible job with reading the audiobooks). But her short story collection “Word Puppets” blew me away. She’s a master of short stories, and her ideas range from the ridiculous to the sublime with equal care and precision. I find short story collections harder to read in general, but even more so when they concentrate so much into a small form and give such powerful closure so soon that I have to step away for a while, just like I do after finishing a novel. Mary Robinette’s work is so good I don’t think I could read any of them back to back. As someone who started with short stories and moved to novels, and now find it hard to move back, I can say it’s no easy feat.

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The wind boisterous

Posted on June 9, 2020 by Thom

Notice: If you object to religion or the discussion thereof, you may wish to try back another day. This blog post might not be for you.

The past few weeks have have been difficult for most Americans. It would be difficult not to feel something about what has been going on in Minneapolis and across the country. As it is, emotions have been running high, to say the least.

I’m not a person who deals with emotion well. You could say I’m not emotionally independent. I tend to absorb the energy around me, whether positive or negative, and allow it to replace my own. I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve yet to figure out how not to. I actually did pretty well initially. I was able to stay objective, sample some of the dialogue, learn a few things, adjust my thinking, and join with those in search of positive change.

But as the week wore on and the energy changed to more contentious and divisive I lost my objectivity and began to feel attacked. People were trying to force me into polarized camps, and I don’t do “reactionary” well. I usually just end up resenting both sides.

It all came to a head over the weekend. All that negative energy overwhelmed me and moved inward. Now it wasn’t just that the world was a terrible place, I was a terrible. My life was terrible. There was no real hope for things ever getting better, either.

Needless to say, when I started getting those feelings they quickly become a self-fulfilling prophecy, which just makes it that much harder to break out. I don’t know, and I’ve never sought professional advice, but I suspect it may be some form of mental illness.

It’s also a spiritual illness. I am a believing, practicing (or at least trying) Christian who finds a great deal of comfort, support and solace in Jesus Christ. And yet at times like this weekend I can feel like He has left me and doesn’t care for me anymore. I don’t want to believe that’s true, but it’s hard to ignore that doubt. I mean, nothing has changed. I still pray, study scriptures, and do the other things I’m supposed to do, and yet I feel…nothing.

As always, the light did shine again. Though Sunday began with me still feeling rather dark–in no small part because of the gloomy, stormy day outside–the light came on, slowly. Here and there little hints, little signs, little clues kept appearing, reminding me that the Lord knows me and was still there for me. By afternoon I was feeling okay again, and by the end of the day I was feeling pretty good. Yesterday was pretty good, too, with more of those little signs–what I have come to call “tender mercies”–scattered throughout the day.

This morning during my scripture study a section from the New Testament came unbidden to my mind (I was studying somewhere else entirely) where Christ is walking on the water to reach the boat where the apostles were, and Peter asks the Lord to command him to walk to Him on the water:

28 And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.
29 And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus.
30 But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.
31 And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?
32 And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased.

Matthew 14:28-32, KJV

The connection was clear. I was Peter, and while I had still been praying and reading my scriptures through the past several weeks, my focus hadn’t been on Christ. I had turned away and was focused on the turmoil in the world. Having lost my concentration, I began to doubt. I began to sink.

I did call for Him to save me. He caught me. He’s got my hand again, and we’re headed for the boat. The wind is still boisterous, but that’s no longer where my focus is. At least for now. It must be really frustrating for the Lord sometimes when we’re walking along together and we’re like the dogs in “Up!” Squirrel! Or like little children.

I remember many years ago my father took me to work with him one day. I went everywhere he went, including in the big, scary freight elevator. You could see the walls going by, and there were big gaps in the corners by the door where something might fall through and be lost forever in the abyss. I was wearing cowboy boots that day, and I was petrified with the thought that my boots might suddenly fly off and fall down those gaps. I think part of me knew I was being irrational, but I couldn’t help it.

I think this past weekend was just like that:

“Lord, I’m frightened by what I’m seeing out there.”
Then look at me.
“No, I mean it’s really scary right now.”
Then look at me.
“Why aren’t you helping me, Lord?”
Look at me, please.
“Oh, there you are!”
(Smiling, but shaking His head)
(Walking along together for a few minutes)
“But….the world is still a scary place–“
Focus…

Whether we’re religious or not, spiritual or not, there is something central in our lives that gives us focus and strength. During times like these it’s easy to lose that focus, that centered-ness as we struggle to deal with what we see and experience. It’s not that we need to turn our backs or ignore what’s going on around us. On the contrary, if we’re going to be part of any positive change we have to be aware of our surroundings.

But at the same time we need to stay connected to our source of strength, our core, that inner divinity that tells us we can be so much more than what we are. Clearly, it can be very hard. Sometimes we have to admit that we’re not as strong as we want to think and we really need help, really need to step back for a bit and refocus ourselves. We need to rediscover who we are.

The “wind boisterous” will always be there. It’s not that we shouldn’t care. It just shouldn’t be where we focus.

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The Theory of Sting

Posted on June 8, 2020 by Thom

I found this video today explaining why Sting is beyond duplication. I’ve always suspected there are layers of layers of complexity is Sting’s music, and this video only scratches the surface. There simply is no musician/songwriter like Sting, and while I don’t always like his songs, I have a great deal of respect for his abilities. He’s always out there pushing the envelope, but not to be avant garde, not to show off. He simply wants to set his music in the most effective way possible.

Take for example, his song Seven Days. It’s set in 5/4 meter, but it’s syncopated in a playful, off-balance manner that enhances the story of a man in a love triangle trying to figure out what to do about his rival. His life is completely unbalanced, he knows he needs to act, but doesn’t know how. He’s feeling helpless, and while he is proud of his intellect, he’s going to think himself into total inaction and lose. It’s a very non-heroic song, and yet smacks to true to life (at least for people like me). It’s absolutely brilliant–and that’s without even looking at his chord structures, his word choice, his melodic structures, choice of instruments, or the anything else.

I haven’t checked to see what he’s up to lately in his collaboration with Shaggy, whomever that is. But it’s been a fascinating trip thus far watching how Sting has evolved into an ageless musician. He appeals to no particular age group or style, and yet his appeal is vast. You can’t contain him in any particular genre. His Songs From the Labyrinth on Deutsche Grammophon is proof of that. They’re a “serious” music label, reserved for classical music and musicians, and yet Sting’s treatment of John Dowland’s music is a serious labor of love and dedication.

In some ways he reminds me of Loreena McKennitt in his dedication to exploring the vast world of music and stories, and yet their approaches are distinct. I’d love to see a collaboration between them someday.

In the mean time I’m grateful to have discovered Sting within the necessarily limited scope of my lifetime.

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