ThomStratton.com

I’ve been seeing a lot of jokes and headlines lately at the expense of vegans. I keep telling myself not to be offended. After all, there are some aggressive, even militant, vegans out there that give us all a bad name. But let’s face it. That’s a lousy excuse that no one would tolerate for any other group. We’re not allowed to blame all Muslims for extremist terrorists, after all. I don’t hear Emma Watson apologizing for the militant feminists–nor should she have to. And just because a lot of vegans are quiet about it and don’t shove it down people’s throats doesn’t excuse people thinking all vegans are like the bad ones.

I know veganism runs contrary to popular culture. I know veganism makes people uncomfortable. I get it. And yes, we can be a weird bunch. But choose any other “weird” bunch and you’ll find carnivores at the center of it. So what does that tell us? Nothing at all, except that people have a tendency to be weird.

So why do we have to single out vegans? Why do we have headlines like one in the Washington Post recently: “Woman trying to prove ‘vegans can do anything’ among four dead on Mount Everest”? As I can see from reactions on Facebook, people are taking that headline as a sign that vegans are stupid enough to try stuff they shouldn’t. Clearly, however, they don’t read farther. Nor do they look beyond the obvious in the headline–wait a second, three other non-vegans also died. Does that mean that a carnivorous lifestyle makes you three times as likely to die on Everest? Of course not. But even though hundreds of people have died on Everest, we’re more than happy to assume the vegan was the stupid one.

The actual article tells a different story:

First of all, Maria Strydom was married. Her husband, also vegan, survived. Both were very experienced climbers, who far along in their goal to climb the highest peak on each of the seven continents. They had yet to tackle Everest, especially after two earthquakes in the past several years have stalled other expeditions. According to the article, “That gave the couple time to train vigorously. In the intervening years, they proved that their diet would not keep them from mountain-climbing by scaling Denali in Alaska, Mount Ararat in Turkey and Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, among others.”

The article goes on about the risks of climbing Everest:

“On Everest, death is not necessarily a sign of failure so much as one of a particularly sad inevitability. Much like many places humans have ventured in our boundless curiosity — from the ocean depths to outer space — it cannot sustain life, and it often takes it. Shrestha told the BBC that altitude sickness and fatigue, along with natural factors such as blizzards and avalanches, kill a few climbers each year. It’s a potential outcome known to its climbers and gruesomely illustrated along the way by the almost 200 bodies that have frozen on or near the peak.”

And that’s just the climbers. Sherpas also die on the mountain in high numbers. And while it’s true that as many as 4000 people have successfully climbed the mountain since 1953, a 5% death rate is not easily dismissed. One in twenty climbers will die on Everest. (Also, the “4000” statistic is the number who have made it to the summit. It doesn’t say they all made it back down safely. Nor does it talk about which side they attempted it from–there is a difference.)

It should also be noted that within the same few days two other climbers have gone missing, and as many as 30 other climbers have suffered from altitude sickness or frostbite or both. Clearly they were not experiencing ideal climbing conditions. Around 330 other climbers have made it this year. Sometimes the weather does not cooperate. And it changes very quickly up there.

In any case, what killed Strydom was not unusual:

Everest, though, proved unscalable for them. The couple reached Camp 4, the final camp, at 3,000 feet below the summit, before both suffered from altitude sickness. It caused fluid to build up in Strydom’s brain, which killed her Saturday. Gropel, alive but fighting a fluid buildup in his lungs, had to be taken down the mountain by sled, the Sydney Morning Herald reported. He was taken to a hospital in Kathmandu, Nepal.

There is nothing in the article to indicate that veganism caused or contributed to their altitude sickness. Yet people feel a need to point out–and make fun of–the fact that Strydom was vegan who hoped to prove that vegans can do anything. Wow, how stupid to try to fight stereotypes and misinformation. When a blind man scaled Everest we were all inspired–wow, look at that! He overcame difficult odds! Sure, he had no choice in his blindness, while Strydom had a choice to be vegan. But then just as Erik Weihenmayer could employ compensating factors, so could Strydom. And she had successfully climbed other difficult mountains.

What if Erik Weihenmayer had died on Everest? Would we all be clucking our tongues and shaking our heads at the stupidity of a blind man trying to do more than he should have? No, we would still have admired his courage and consoled ourselves that he died following his dream. It’s only stupid when a vegan dies, evidently. And trust me, we’re clearly aware that people are just looking for things to mock us for. The potential for negative exposure was very much on the mind of Kuntal Joisher, another vegan climber who attempted Everest in 2015:

But there was one item he could not replace with vegan-friendly material —the full-body, down-filled suit that mountaineers wear on summit day on Mount Everest. He wrote frantic Facebook messages to six companies who manufacture mountain suits. Four replied saying they do not have any plan to make a synthetic substitute. He wrote to dozens of influential vegans in the West and asked them to weigh in.

“Imagine if you summited holding a vegan flag, wearing a down-filled suit,” he said. He even thought of tearing up his synthetic sleeping bag and wearing it on summit day as a body suit. “But what if I died on Mount Everest wearing it. That would be such a bad publicity for the vegan cause,” Joisher said.

Sad, but true. Few bother to go looking for examples of vegans who excel in their various sports. They’re only interest in the failures, it seems.

Heavyweight boxing champion David Haye is a vegan, and I would love anyone to question him about his protein intake. The best female tennis player in the world, Serena Williams, is a vegan, as is her sister, Venus. Marathon runner Fiona Oakes and Ironman triathlete Brendan Brazier also abstain from meat and dairy products. There are lots more, but you get the picture.

It’s also a little bizarre how people find veganism so difficult to accept, and yet have no trouble at all if it’s for the “right” reasons:

Joisher spent a lot of time briefing the Nepalese kitchen staff who travelled with him in the expedition, and cut out cream from soup, milk from oatmeal, cheese from pasta and butter from cinnamon rolls. He got so tired of explaining the ills of factory farming to the Sherpa cooks that he just told them he had an allergy that could impede his climb. They got it immediately, he said.

It’s funny. When I tell people I’m vegan (usually because they asked, not because I volunteer the information) I’m usually subjected to a lengthy explanation (sometimes more diatribe) why they could never be vegan, and usually with a tone that implies that I’m of questionable sanity. Except I never even suggested they should try it. I only told them what I am. Clearly what I am is very threatening.

I regularly have to deal with the department admin who gets offended if I offer to bring my own food to company functions rather than not participate, and yet she complains constantly about the inconvenience of having to find other options for me and the other vegetarians in the department. I didn’t ask her to go out of her way, and I don’t expect her to. I know my diet is odd, and I’m prepared to make it easier on everyone. But no. I’m a burden. It’s tempting to, like Joisher, just tell people I’ve got a food allergy. That would make it all okay. No one would bat an eye then. But it would be lying.

To be fair, not everyone is this way. I had a good conversation with another father at our recent church campout when he noticed our cooking separately from the group. He asked sincere questions, and I tried to answer politely and non-judgmentally. He thought it was kinda cool, and we left it at that. In fact, oddly enough, considering how everyone is so convinced that religious people are bigots, I’ve found more acceptance from my local congregation than I have from pretty much any other group. They will sometimes include vegan options at potlucks and dinners, and they don’t seem to be bothered if we bring our own. I certainly don’t want to fall into the trap of only seeing and recognizing the “bad apples” out there. It’s difficult to be vegan in public, but not everyone is out to make it even harder, and quite a few try to make it easier.

Still, I have to wonder how vegans became one of the few groups left that it’s okay to pick on. Is it because so few actually know one? Is it because they equate vegans with groups like PETA, who kinda ask for it (don’t get me started on PETA–they do more harm than good)? Is it because the only time they notice vegans is when it’s one of the annoying ones? I don’t know–and I don’t know how to combat it. It seems like a catch-22. Be quiet about it and no one notices, and therefore no one realizes there are “good vegans” out there. Speak up about it and suddenly you’re one of those “bad vegans” that can’t keep quiet about it and are shoving it in everyone’s faces–even if we never say a word advocating veganism for everyone.

Chances are in even posting this, in which I decide I’ve had enough of sitting quietly and taking it, I’m going to offend and alienate people–including some that see nothing wrong with mocking me and my choices. Well, I guess that’s a risk I will take. Clearly veganism doesn’t grant infinite patience.

Kiruna, Sweden sits atop one of the richest iron deposits in the world, which is its blessing and its curse and its blessing. The ground beneath part of the town of 18,000 is in danger of sinking. But the company that operates the mine is willing to invest over a billion dollars to relocate a large portion of the town two kilometers away. For some buildings, like the famous Kiruna church, this means figuring out how to move an entire building. For most of the residential and commercial properties, they’re simply buying them out or building them a new building in the new part of town.

The whole situation and the chosen solution are oddly compelling. As is this video:

I’m continually blown away by the depth, variety and vividness of Brandon Mull’s imagination. It also occurred to me in thinking about this book after finishing it that I should also be more impressed by his writing ability, but he writes so well it’s practically invisible. Very seldom does his writing call attention to itself. The more I think about it the more he ranks right up there with my favorite authors. I don’t care if he writes “kids books”. They’re still better than many of the adult books I read.

Death Weavers continues the story of Cole, a teenager who, along with his friends and many of his schoolmates, gets kidnapped and pulled into The Outskirts, a separate world where magic not only exists, but is segregated out into five kingdoms, each with it’s own variety of “shaping.” Initially on a quest to find his friends and return to Earth, Cole soon finds himself neck-deep in events in The Outskirts as he helps a princess reclaim her stolen powers and fight against her tyrant father.

Along the way Cole discovers that he, too, has shaping ability, but soon loses it when evil shapers mangle it so that he can no longer access it. But he and his friends, both new and old, push onward, hoping to find and rescue all four of the princesses in order to overthrow the king and restore freedom to The Five Kingdoms–and perhaps even get home again to a world that has forgotten he ever existed.

In Death Weavers Cole and company head for Necronum, where shaping gives a person access to the realm of spirits, known as the Echolands, and also where Nazeem, a powerful and ancient evil, is imprisoned. But Nazeem is growing closer to escaping, and the shaping in Necronum involves subtlety and cunning that Cole finds dangerous and hard to avoid. Things are starting to look pretty grim for our adventurers.

If there’s one thing that ties this series together it’s the creativity and sheer wonder of Mull’s settings. I’m regularly reading along and thinking, “Dude, that is so cool! He thinks it all through, and establishes rules that readers can rely on to try and think their way out of things on Cole’s behalf. And perhaps one of the most cool elements in this installment is the ability to bring in “guest appearances” by some of our favorite characters from other series. It was fun to see some beloved characters get to take another bow.

Where Mull really excels in this book, however, is in his ability to seamlessly work in moral dilemmas and concepts. Cole is really run through the wringer in this book; given several opportunities to do what’s best for him and ultimately decide matters most in the face of overwhelming opposition and certain death. And yet it never feels preachy, even while dealing with such weighty topics as the purpose of life and the nature of faith. Instead he sets up situations where such questions come out naturally. Heavy stuff, and in a kids book, no less!

The one frustration is that it’ll be late next year before the final book comes out. And it’ll be early next year before his new Dragon Watch series begins. But let’s face it, no good writer ever writes fast enough to satisfy us.

On my way to the break room at work yesterday I passed through another section of our department. I saw unexpected movement out of the corner of my eye and noticed the top of someone’s head protruding from their cubicle doorway, rising and falling. This was so unusual for the workplace I admit I stopped can gawked. In hindsight that might have been a bad idea.

It turns out that particular group gets together several times during the day to do some group exercises. This particular person had been on the phone during their most recent round of push-ups, and so she was catching up on her own later. She dared me to join them. I demurred.

Last night at home we had a bit of an incident when my wife tried to remind one of our boys to do his daily exercises for his Physical Fitness merit badge program. He doesn’t like being reminded. It’s not that he doesn’t like exercise; it’s just that there’s always other things more interesting to do. So, thinking back on my encounter at work, I decided to set an example and informed my family at breakfast this morning that I would be joining in with that group at work.

What this group didn’t tell me was that they don’t just do pushups. Today is Plank Day. This is a plank:

You assume this position and then hold it–no sagging at the midsection! (Oh, and this picture is most definitely me!)

This group is up to two minutes as their starting duration, and they raise it by thirty seconds each subsequent rotation, though they do make accommodations for newbies (ie. me). After the first minute I was thinking this wasn’t so bad. By a minute and a half my back and abs were quivering and burning, and I was tempted to take the “newbie out”. I pressed on, and made it to two minutes with everyone else, but that was from sheer stubbornness. I’m pretty sure I’ll be toast during the noon session. And three minutes at 3:00 pm? Not a chance.

But I’m going to try to stick with this and see how it goes. It’s time I shook things up a little in my slacker routine.

(Oh, my apologies to anyone who came here this thinking I’d be discussing the “Bathroom Wars”. Sorry. I tend to think in song or movie lines, and I’m old enough to remember “Smokin’ In the Boys’ Room” from long ago.)

I hear a lot lately that I should check my privilege. So I did, and found this:

Now, perhaps the list is cherry-picked, but to hear most feminists go on, you’d think that men had all the advantages across the board. Perhaps that was true once, but if you seriously look at this list, it’s not looking as good for my boys as for my daughter. And if she wishes to marry, perhaps not even so good for her, either.

“Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.” – Westley, “The Princess Bride”

Last week President Obama issued the equivalent of a stick (as opposed to a carrot) to bypass the debate on gender identity and privacy and coerce schools to allow children to use bathroom, locker room, and shower facilities based on their self-identification, supposedly with the goal of ensuring safety and respect for all students.

It makes me wonder if Mr. Obama has ever been to school. Schools have been failing at ensuring both safety and respect among children since…the invention of schools. We’ve been hearing about numerous anti-bullying campaigns and training for years now. And just how successful have they been? If anything it sounds like bullying is a worse problem than when I was a kid, only now the bullied are not even allowed to resolve the problem themselves. When has “I’ll tell the teacher!” ever worked?

As for respect? That’s laughable. Kids have never been particularly good at showing respect to one another. They’re still learning what that means! And unfortunately the lessons they are (maybe) taught by parents and (sometimes) from media are vastly outweighed by a society that no longer respects anyone or anything.

But the President believes we can fix all that by simply letting the transgendered into the bath- and shower-rooms of their choice. And, for some inexplicable reason he believes that our K-12 schools is the best place to start. Not the White House, not government agencies, not even public spaces, but schools–where staff are already extremely restricted in what they are allowed to do to assist students and where it’s usually best to avoid being in any of those spaces with kids for fear of legal issues.

The idea is ludicrous: “Hey, I know. Let’s foster safety and respect by taking biological boys and girls and placing them together in a space where teachers fear to go. Viola! Instant Nirvana!” That’ll work about as well as all that racial healing we were promised.

But not to worry, we’ve provided an incentive! Any schools who fail to do this may lose Federal funds. Here in Utah we stand to lose over 10% of our state education budget if we fail to comply, plus the cost of any lawsuits the Federal government may file. It might be one thing if this directive had been the result of any open and transparent process in which Obama called in experts and representatives of all sides of the issue and worked out a best path scenario, but we’ve seen no indication that this is so. At best this seems to be yet another “I’m smarter than you, so sit down and shut up” measure by an arrogant man whose own daughters will more than likely be completely unaffected by this move. At worst, this seems like a hissy-fit by a brat of a President who didn’t like it when North Carolina recently told his administration to take a hike.

“For The Children!” has long been a mantra by anyone who wants change, but clearly this is more a matter of “For a small percentage of the children–damn the rest of them!” But more importantly, this is a naïve and intentionally oblivious ignoring of the facts: you can’t ensure safety or respect. Period. Not even among adults, let alone children who are still figuring out the world and are far from emotionally or mentally mature (to say nothing of teenagers who are going through physical and hormonal changes that make them entirely irrational at times). This is also a deliberate ignoring of actual science–something liberals claim to adore–which indicates that transgenderism is a psychological issue akin to anorexia and other “body issue” disorders. There certainly has not been any significant research into whether forcing children into bathrooms or showers together will actually help in matters of “safety and respect.”

So now we have President Obama telling us he can deliver a pain-free childhood for our children when decades of liberal management of our schools have continually failed, if not increased the problem. I suspect our dear Westley was right: he’s selling something. The question is what, and to whom–and what the ultimate price will be. In this case it’s not just our firstborns, but all our children. To extend the Princess Bride metaphor, we’re being led by President Vizzini, who is brilliant in all the wrong ways. To him, the idea that this could possibly go wrong is “completely and in all other ways inconceivable.” And we know how that turned out.

But at least Obama will be able to feel good about himself, and that’s all that matters. Because that’s why we elect presidents–to help them with their self-esteem.

Stop and think about it for a moment. There are six months left before the Presidential Election. Six. Months.

Do we have to keep yammering on about Trumbernillary as if the election was tomorrow and this is our LAST CHANCE TO SAVE THE WORLD?! Seriously, is there anything all that new to be said about any of them? Do we really think that with all the posts that have gone before it really all comes down to this one more post that crosses your feed, and if you don’t share it the evil blasterds will win?

Six. Months.

I promise you that if you unplug for the next five and not start paying attention again until October you won’t really miss anything. There will still be time to evaluate if everything you think you know about them has changed at all. There will still be more debates to watch. There will still be plenty of commentary, editorializing, and perhaps even some actual journalism to dig through in case you actually do want to know the facts.

About the only important thing likely to happen within the next five months is either Sanders or Hillary will have been forced to concede. Is that really worth paying so close attention between now and then? Most of us are long past having our say in the primaries/caucuses. Do we need to fill up our feed (and everyone else’s) with more political quackery? Let me summarize everything you’re likely to see between now and then:

• Politicians lie.
• So-n-so is the most vile human being to ever defile the earth.
• What Candidate X did really wasn’t so bad.
• This statement, when taken out of context, sounds really, really bad.
• People who support Candidate Y are total amoral loons without redeeming quality.
• If Candidate Q wins the world will destroy itself from the inside out within seconds.
• Celebrity B will move to Canada if Candidate J wins. (There will be no coverage whatsoever of how many celebrities threatened that last time but failed to follow through.)
• Why does everyone think what so-n-so did/said is such a big deal?
• Everyone who disagrees with me lacks perspective/honesty/integrity/intelligence.

Did I miss anything? I just saved you six months effort. You’re welcome.

I never thought I’d say this, but could we please see more pictures/videos of cats for a while? Or anything else that might actually remind us that life will somehow go on–at least until after the first Tuesday in November?

Seriously, folks. Six months. Save it for October. Please!

I’ve lived pretty much all of my life in either Idaho or Utah. Evidently I’ve really been missing out. According to AreaVibes.com, those are the top two most boring states in America. As measured by what, you may ask?

Using AreaVibes and U.S. Census data, we measured each city on the following criteria:

• % of Population Over 65 (higher is more boring)
• % of Households With Kids (higher is more boring)
• % of Married Households (higher is more boring)
• Population density

Then, our algorithm ranks each state for each of the criteria, takes an average of the individual ranking, and identifies the state that scores as most boring across the board.

And considering that I have kids, am married, and am not very dense, I guess I’m a major contributor to that. And I’m just fine with that. And I’m more than happy if the other states don’t try to export their excitement here, thank you. And stay off my lawn, unless you intend to mow it.

Besides, here in Utah we’re also in the top three areas for mansions, so I suppose that’s consolation.

People wonder how Donald Trump could possibly become the nominee for president. Well, one hint may be in his recent admission that although his tax plan called for a tax cut for the wealthiest earners in America, the reality of the situation may require they get a tax hike. It wasn’t that his plan had changed like the media and many commentators rushed to suggest. He was simply discussing what was likely to happen when it came to the actual task of getting people to vote for his tax plan.

In short he was admitting that he would likely need to make some compromises to get something passed. Quelle horreur! A politician willing to compromise?! Isn’t that what we always claim we want instead of an ideologue who would rather see nothing happen rather than give an inch on what he claims is best for the country? Granted, there are times when nothing would be the best outcome, but it used to be that politics was about finding a third option we can all accept? When did politics become this all-or-nothing zero-sum game?

Now granted, I’m not a fan of Donald Trump–at least not as a presidential candidate. I did enjoy watching The Apprentice for a while. And there are aspects of having someone who has actually run a business as president that appeals to me. And I hold no illusions that our current political class don’t say things just as nasty or worse than what Trump has said. The difference is they keep it (mostly) behind closed doors so we don’t have to see it. I’m not proud of it, but I’ll admit I say things privately I would never say publicly. I suspect most of us do. But Trump blurts it all out there without apology or, seemingly, forethought. I don’t care much for that approach, and think it rather unbecoming a President of the United States of America.

So with Trump we’re left wondering: is he just being honest and saying what he really thinks, which while crass, could be its own brand of refreshing, or does this mean what he says in private is even worse? Or would we find he’s not even saying what he really believes at all, and only what he calculates as the thing to say to get votes?

This is what I don’t like about politics: can we really be sure of what we’re getting? Politicians are renowned for saying what they think we want to hear, and so we can usually only go by their actions. The trouble there is that we tend to look for ideological purity when we examine actions. Politicians purposely mix together all sorts of strange bills–education spending in a war funding bill, or hiding funding for an unpopular program in a tax cut bill–in an effort to lay traps for one another (and to sneak things past voters). They love it when they can pull that out at a later date and say, “See, you voted FOR {insert nasty undesirable here}! You’re a traitor to your party!” when in reality their vote was the result of a compromise that got them something they wanted as a concession.

Holding our politicians accountable for what they really do in comparison to what they really think is hard work. There isn’t a candidate out there who hasn’t done something unpopular in order to get something they thought was more important. And there isn’t a group out there who won’t purposely overlook that in an effort to beat up that candidate. Sorting it all out is difficult and far too often requires swimming through the septic tank of politics.

Recently I got an email from my precinct’s party chair and a fellow county delegate expressing his opposition to a particular candidate for governor. I will admit I didn’t read much of the email. For one, it was long. Also what little I read sounded more passionate than I’m generally comfortable with. I like this guy as a person and have had very positive interactions with him in other capacities.

But in politics he comes across as someone with an ax to grind. He openly admitted he only came to the last caucus to try and get elected as a delegate so he could vote against an incumbent state representative he felt had blown him off. He got elected as a delegate, and also as the precinct chair, only to find the candidate he opposed was running unopposed. I didn’t see him at the county convention, nor did I hear of any efforts by him to send a replacement, which was his duty as chair. I’m just petty enough to hold a bit of a grudge when I sacrifice my time for something that other people just blow off. As a result I’m disinclined to listen to this person’s political opinions.

The point here, however, is to point out how complex politics can be, and how things are seldom as cut and dried as they are made to appear. It may be that this person has completely valid points to make against that candidate. But often we have to evaluate the candidate’s critics as much as we do the candidate. My experience with the same representative he didn’t like was quite opposite of his. I found this representative to be sincere, approachable, and someone who takes his position seriously and looks for input from constituents. This also didn’t help my opinion of the precinct chair’s political opinions. I find myself, for several reasons, disinclined to want to read this person’s email. In my other areas of contact with this person he has my unquestioned support. He is excellent at other things he does.

I’ll admit I’m pretty disheartened by the current Presidential field (and dismayed by the current President’s unwillingness to remain above and outside the current cycle). There is no candidate I can feel good about.  There are a lot of reasons to vote against Trump–or Hillary–or Bernie. However, I’m not sure a recognition that compromises will need to be made in order to get things done is one of them.

A lot of work went into the making of this video to explain entropy and entropic time while showing how things don’t happen. And it uses Billy Joel’s “For the Longest Time”, which is all kinds of awesome. And I can’t seem to think of much to blog about lately, so you get to watch it!

In case you’re curious, this is how he made it: