Zero Mostel Was Right

There’s something to be said for tradition. In this case I am not speaking of Christmas trees and Easter eggs, but of the abstract concept of tradition. Take the Catholic Church, for example. The Church is an organization that has thrived for millennia, and shows no signs of letting up in the present age. One of the guiding forces of the Church is none other than our word of the day, Tradition (in the Church, we like it so much that we capitalize it). Tradition, as the preserved wisdom and practice of our predecessors on this ancient globe, provides generally reliable insight on how to address current problems. In fact, consulting tradition in this way almost allows those past men and women to return to the realm of the living, if only momentarily, to sound off on what must be done. G.K. Chesterton puts the idea forward quite beautifully in his book Orthodoxy:

Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead.

Do not worry, dear reader (if, in fact, you exist): I am not going to bore you with a long treatise on Church Tradition. I am far too uninformed on the subject to do that. Instead, I wish to apply the concept of tradition to the wonderful practice of self-reflection.

I was looking over my inaugural posts in this blog today (in other words, consulting tradition to inform current action), and I couldn’t help but realize that it has changed a bit over the past year, perhaps a bit too much. The writing in the initial posts seems more lucid, more straightforward, than more recent endeavors. The content, too, seemed deeper and more insightful.

Does this reflect a deeper change in me, myself? Have I fallen off the spiritual wagon, or at least grown (metaphorically) fat and lazy so as to slow the wagon’s pace? I certainly hope not. However, I do sometimes find myself wondering at how a past version of myself would approach my present circumstances:

“Would Senior-Year-of-High-School-Joe have handled this situation better? If this had happened to me last year, would I have dealt with it more gracefully? Could my Kindergarten-self have addressed this problem more efficiently?”

As you can see, I sometimes go too far with this activity. Yet it is beneficial to look back on past problems, if only to recall the tools it took to solve them. I am the sum total of my life experiences. Everything I have overcome as an individual (granted: in my case, not a whole lot) required the cultivation and practice of a certain virtue or grace, which, though it may fall into disuse during easier times, remains in my soul. In other words, all capability and all wisdom which I have known in the past are still at my beck and call. The choice is simply whether or not to tap into them. I am my past selves; they live on long past their expiration date, and into the present moment. So the next time I find myself wondering what Senior-Year-of-High-School-Joe would have done if he were here, perhaps I ought to walk over to the mirror and ask him to his face.

Presently yours,
Joezilla

The LONER.

The LONER

I am The LONER: my solemn crusade
Relies on the valor of one man alone—
MYSELF!—and solely to me is it known;
I fight my battles with no ally’s aid.

I am the Loner, my problems unique—
It’s doubtful that anyone now or whenever
Could grasp the import of my current endeavor—
Thus, I am silent (my comfort is bleak).

I am the Loner—locked up from inside,
I certainly don’t want a listening ear,
A comforting comment, or sympathy’s tear…
Though I grow tired of this liar’s hide!

I am a Loner, but don’t you see why?
Too scared to reveal what I feel in my heart,
With care I conceal it through misleading art.
Pardon my cowardice; pardon my lie.

I am the Loner, but you say you, too,
Bear burdens concealed from every man’s seeing,
And somehow my burdens bear less on my being,
Knowing that similar worries haunt you.

I am the Loner: if absent, not missed—
Yet with my humanity thusly uncovered—
Surprised and elated with what I’ve discovered:
Since all souls are Loners, I do not exist.

Gratia Vitae

Gratia Vitae

When consequence is shirked again,

the future is ignored,

adversity sets in and then

temptation sends its horde.

Life and death are set before us—

choices clearly riven—

and here in culture’s vacuum lies

the gift of Life, ungiven.

Death does not become a land

so chivalrous and free,

so give us love and understanding:

as Thou art, so we.

And spare us, Lord, the tragic pain

of mother and child riven,

and will that nevermore we hold

the gift of Life ungiven.

to those whom culture sold its lie,

direct our hands and heart;

and to the souls whose choice is nigh,

Your wisdom please impart.

And spare Us, Lord, the tragic pain

of Mother and child riven,

and welcome us into Your heart,

where gifts of Life are given.

Someday peace will march through town

to songs of drum and fife…

and joyful shall the call ring out:

Give thanks to God for Life!

A Well of Verse

First off, take a gander at that picture. Isn’t it wonderful? It appears to be a robot that just might be the Iron Giant, putting together a snowman. That, my friends, is what Christmas is all about. Okay, not really…but it’s still a cool picture!

Now, on to the main event:

These little guys came to me while learning and studying Anthropology. They are not particularly Anthropology-related, but Anthropology nonetheless helped cause them to be written—that is to say, I was so bored with Anthropology that I passed the time by writing poetry! I hope you enjoy them.

Three Observations
Branching out
to do Your Will
induces doubt
in me until
I realize
that You know best
and will advise
me on my quest.

Self-addiction
doesn’t ease
the deep affliction
and disease
of heart and mind
that fills the earth
and robs of kind
and guiltless mirth.

Since You dared
to count on me,
I haven’t fared
amazingly,
but since Your Love
came without strings,
We’ll rise above
on eagle’s wings.

Easy As [James] 1 2 3
I’ve always liked the windy days best,
the ones that hit you hard,
and tear through like a pest,
and blow the garbage cans across the yard.

Those days force the lazy into action.
Whether chasing trash cans
or true satisfaction,
their choices must be quick, like the brash man’s.

There’s something beneficial in these days,
blowing hard against us,
forcing us through the maze
and over walls that formerly fenced us.

So if the breeze is stronger than you’d like,
don’t cower from the fight!
Just grin and love the hike—
your yoke will get easy, your burden light.

God Bless, and enjoy December,
Joezilla

Christmasology

I am a student of Christmas, what you might call a Christmasologist. If that word has never before been used, I coin it now:

Christmasology—The study of Christmas and its effect on people, particularly oneself; also, the study of Christmas spirit, how to attain it, how to nurture it, and how to spread it.

It's pretty fun being a Christmasologist. I began my study back in high school. I started a file in a little box I keep under my bed, saving quotes and other odds and ends which might help further spell out the true meaning of Christmas, and inspire in me that beautiful thing that we call Christmas Spirit. I've begun reading A Christmas Carol every year, as that little story is one of the greatest founts of Christmas Spirit that I've found. As I said, I've been at my study for several years now, and although I still have much to learn, I've come upon several important ideas.

The first is the idea of a gift. I realized a couple of years ago (probably way later than most anyone else who has ever given this holiday any thought) how the idea of a Christmas present is related to the original Christmas story. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son…" Jesus was truly the greatest gift ever given, because his life and death gave us freedom—freedom to learn from him and follow him and ultimately be saved by him. I know that this is sort of an elementary idea about Christmas, but I just realized it a few years ago. Needless to say, I was very happy to discover this. God gave us Jesus, the greatest Gift of all, on the very first Christmas. Even a brand-new Lexus can't quite measure up to that.

Here is the second concentration in my area of study, and it's one of my favorites: Santa Claus. Oh, how many pages I could write about Santa Claus! Such a wonderful figure, a wonderful image, a wonderful person! We've all seen him. Perhaps we've even been lucky enough to speak to him. One item in my file speaks volumes about Santa Claus to me: it's a little comic from the Chicago Tribune showing a young 20-something and an adolescent preparing a cooler-full of steaming hot chocolate, and hiking around the snowy city to visit all the Salvation Army charity Santas, giving each one a hot mug of cocoa to warm them up. They see fat Santas and thin Santas, short Santas and tall Santas, realistic Santas and sloppy Santas, a black Santa and a clean-shaven Santa, and after sharing a little bit of Christmas warmth with each one of them, the adolescent says something to the 20-something that cuts right to the heart of the whole idea of Santa Claus.

He says: "I always thought that there was only one Santa, and that it was his job to give presents to me. And I also thought that learning otherwise would be much more painful than it is."

A quote from a man named Stephen Leacock sums up the idea of Santa Claus rather well:
"Now, the essence, the very spirit of Christmas, is that we first make believe a thing is so, and lo, it presently turns out to be so!"

That's what's so wonderful about Santa Claus: he actually does exist. It's not just a story. He doesn't just live within our hearts. He's a living breathing person. It's just that there are a whole bunch of him walking around, and that we, too, can become him anytime we want.
It goes back to the famous quote from 2 Corinthians 9:7, which says in such simple and inspiring words: "God loves a cheerful giver." That's who Santa Claus is, and that is the true Spirit of Christmas: cheerful giving. If you can be Santa Claus for any other person each December, even just one, than you have carried on the Joy of Christmas. Congratulations.

There are so many wonderful ideas that come into play at Christmas and deserve treatises of their own—like the importance of yearly traditions, the significance of special Christmas music, the blessing of a loving family gathered around Christmas Dinner, the effect Christmas has on kids, and, of course, the mission to "make it last all year," as the Ghost of Christmas Present sings in A Muppet Christmas Carol.

But today I can only touch on one more idea here, and it is a bit difficult to explain, but I will do my best. For several years now, I've reflected each Christmas on the whole idea of this holiday, how it might have started, and who might have started it. It must have been a very wise group of people. Here you have this yearly festival, full of great music and family gatherings, bountiful tables and warm feasts, traditions and expectations and true love showing through everything. You have this wonderful idea of Santa Claus, nurtured in the young from an early age, playing off of all of their potential for wonder and excitement, and bringing it to life perhaps more than any other time of year. You have secret gifts being given and anonymous undercover sacrifices occurring in so many households across the world, as parents break their backs to make Christmas special for their children. Beautiful memories are made in so many households, even ones that perhaps don't see too much happiness through the rest of the year. These memories stick with people as they grow, and are brought back more potently than most any others when those Christmas carols start playing again, year after year, and people get some of that old almost-forgotten Joy back into their hearts, and they do things that they might not do any other time of year. It's a holiday that can change the world. Who thought of all this? I'd like to shake their hands. Or perhaps have a snowball fight with them…

Merry Christmas, and "God Bless Us, Every One!"
Cheerfully yours,
Joezilla

Flying High

Isn't it amazing how fickle human emotions are? Although I'm sure we could all notice examples of this fact in other people's behavior, we need look no further than ourselves. How many times can we remember being on top of the world for a day or two, and then suddenly falling off the wagon just as quickly as we realized we were on it?

It seems that this is the general way of human nature, unless one is depressed (in which case you're pretty much always off the wagon) or enlightened (in which case you've got a ticket to ride the wagon indefinitely). Since most would agree that being on the wagon is more enjoyable than being off of it, I would like to offer a choice suggestion for getting back on if you find yourself having fallen off.

G.K. Chesterton once said that "Angels can fly because they can take themselves lightly." He's so right—those angelic moments in our life, when we feel about ready to fly on up to Heaven and leave our business unfinished down here, those are the times when we take ourselves lightly, and what wonderful times they are! We don't attach such heavy values to the things that happen to us, and even, I daresay, the things we do. We shun the force of our emotions, which tell us to worry about things, to dwell on things, to ruminate until our minds are burned out and our dispositions are rotten.

See how self-destructive it can be to listen only to emotions? When we let our emotions control our thoughts, it becomes impossible to think for ourselves. We are constantly influenced by our anger and our desire, and there's no chance for compassion to get through. Emotions are essentially self-centered phenomena—and if we let them drive, we'll get nowhere but nowhere in no time. We should not deny our emotions; but neither should we allow them to control our course.

I'm not saying that we should abdicate our responsibilities. On the contrary, when we take the focus off of ourselves by lowering the volume on our emotions, we begin to "take ourselves lightly" again—and, in turn, we become infinitely more effective in our respective missions.
So if you're feeling blue, perhaps you need a perspective shift. I suggest listening to Relient K's "High of 75," which inspired me to write this little bit. After listening to that song, take a little time to be "thankful for being alive," and perhaps your eyes will open a little wider, and you'll discover that the sun is out there, after all.

See ya!
Joezilla

The Amazing Everyman

He was born just like any other child, but after reaching adulthood, he grew and gained extraordinary abilities, towering over his former self. He can move with surprising speed and agility for a being so large. Further, his strength is great enough to lift heavy objects that many are unable to budge. For short periods of time, he can energize his system to allow himself heightened speed, strength, and reflexes, albeit with a short period of recovery afterward. His mind’s capacity and capability have increased exponentially since childhood, and he is now able to commit substantial chunks of information to memory and recall them, verbatim, at will. Every time he repeats an action, he becomes more proficient at it, resulting in potential perfection with practice. His only weakness is that he is not invulnerable, but his other abilities render this weakness moot in all but the most harrowing of circumstances.

He is the average grown man, and he vastly discounts his physical capabilities.

This is one reason why we love superhero movies. Every good superhero origin story has a scene where the hero first tests out his powers, and we always marvel at the seemingly limitless potential of our hero’s newfound abilities. Tobey Maguire’s Peter Parker hoots with joy as he leaps and bounds across the rooftops of New York, pushing his abilities to their limit—and realizing there may not be one. Robert Downey Jr.’s Tony Stark takes his newly-built Iron Man suit for a late-night spin through the skies and hits supersonic speeds without breaking a sweat. Despite a few close calls, he demonstrates the amazing potential of his new technology, and leaves us wondering if anything on the planet would be capable of taking him down.

The point here is that these scenes remind us of what it feels like to run through a field at full speed, or to swing a baseball bat with all our might—and see the ball go sailing toward the horizon. We ourselves possess superhuman powers, in a sense—can you remember marveling at your Dad’s seemingly limitless strength (he could open soda bottles with his bare hands!), and wondering how grown-ups could be so tall? Now you are that strong, you are that tall. Isn’t that awesome? We are all superheroes, in a sense, traversing our own perilous journeys, discovering our extraordinary powers, fighting our harrowing battles, nursing our weaknesses, and protecting whatever it is we hold closest to our hearts.

So go and do your duty, and remember—“With great power comes great responsibility.” Thanks, Uncle Ben!

A Random Idea That Awkwardly Popped Into My Head

Among the annals of recent linguistic trends, two of the most emphatically sudden additions to the American vocabulary are the popular usage of "random" and "awkward." Unless my social barometer is completely whacky, "random" describes unexpectedly felicitous events, as well as strange or unsolicited remarks or actions that have no rational precursor in a given interaction.
If you stopped reading that midway through, I don't blame you. I should be saving that kind of inflated verbiage for where I really need it, which is to say in academic papers. I don't know how much of it I have in me. Let's move on to the second word, which is the one I wish to focus on here.

"Awkward," like "random," possessed a clear and common definition before its recent induction into the cult of popular slang. The new definition now calls up negative, somewhat shameful connotations having to do with uncomfortable silences and accidental interruptions, as when two people begin speaking simultaneously. Since certain people are more prone to producing these situations, they sometimes earn the title of an "awkward" person. There was some phenomenon a few years ago titled "the awkward turtle," which even had a hand gesture to go along with it, but I never cared to learn what that was, so we will not go into it here. The point right now is to drive home the current sense of the word "awkward." Why I am even doing this, I don't know—because we all understand what it means anyway. Let's say it's for posterity. Anyway, I'm sure that even the posterity which may or may not read this understands now. So let's move on.

What makes a person awkward? Why is it that some people are awkward and some aren't? I was inspired with the answer earlier today. Partly because I have been both the recipient and the cause of awkwardness, the reason became clear: awkwardness is caused by people waiting too long to say what they want to say. This itself is caused by a lack of confidence to speak on the part of the awkward person. Think about it; suppose I am speaking to someone and a joke occurs to me regarding something they just finished saying. There is a momentary cadence in the conversation, the perfect opportunity for me to utter my humorous gem—and I let it pass by, because I'm still humming and hawing over whether the person will get the joke or not. If I were confident enough in myself to just say it and hope for the best, then there would be no problem. But as it is, I've waited too long by the time I decide to say it, and just as I begin to speak, so does the other person. Dang it! So awkward! What is one to do?

Suck it up, and next time just talk when you feel like it. People should never neglect their natural intuitive senses. This sort of intuition is fascinatingly apparent in any human conversation, and the people who communicate best are the ones who understand how to listen (and how to prioritize listening) and when to speak. I am not saying that I'm a master of this art (few people really are), but we've all had our moments. Good luck to you in your future conversations; may your awkwardness be rare and laugh-inducing, and may your dinners be always tasty. Wow, that was random.

The Conversions

The Christian booted up his mind
for an epic mental duel,
surrounded by three thinkers, blind
to the wisdom of the fool.

The first he was a rationalist,
in logic did he trust.
But his metaphoric rational fist
left the Christian’s hair unmussed.

The crusader brought up five deductions
penned in the Middle Ages.
Thus logic found its long-lost functions—
arming faithful sages.

“All things are caused, and all things cause,”
he stated without pausing,
“but if existence bears out logic’s laws,
Someone must have caused the causing!”

With one foe silenced, deep in thought,
the second now stepped in:
a psychologist, her affect taut,
her brain engaged to win.

“Religion has been made by man
to ease the pain of being;
so knowing, I say ‘yes we can’
to humanism—freeing!”

“Is science not all man-made, too?”
Our Christian missed no beat.
“If I’ve been fooled, then how ‘bout you?
The ground shakes ‘neath your feet.”

The second, silenced by the claim
that one cannot claim truth,
submitted to the third, who aimed
to outmode the Christian youth.

Relativism was his game,
and he played it rather well.
He did away with sin and blame,
was skeptical of Hell.

“Your God’s for you, and that’s okay,
as far as you’re concerned.
But me and he and her can stay
our course and not be spurned.”

“Spurn I won’t, but teach I must.”
—the disciple would not fall.
“If truth has not a trademark thrust,
then there’s no truth at all!”

And as the three sat thinking
The Supernatural did occur.
A flash that left them blinking
at a brilliant, man-shaped blur.

And at that moment the worldview
of the doubters broke like clay.
In front of them, and unfurled new,
was their Life, and Truth, and Way.

“Like Thomas come before you,
you believe now, for you see.
Now the world may deplore you,
but no matter—Follow Me.”

The Christian sat, self-satisfied;
a smile crept o’er his lips.
On his own he’d turned the tide,
retrieved three wayward ships!

Our Lord, Who looked I know not how,
said then, in teaching voice:
“You think you caused all this just now?
Their salvation was your choice?

“You defended me quite bravely, child,
and for that you are commended.
But since your ego now runs wild;
it so must be suspended:

“Where were you when I lit the sun,
set clouds afloat the air?
If you know more than anyone,
please tell me—weren’t you there?

“My dear son, you’ve neglected
the essential truth to bide:
All ignorance collected’s
venial compared to pride.

Angel of America

Kerri Walsh inspires me. No, it’s not her delicate and (far too) trim figure, nor her radiant face (although that is a necessary part of this deduction), nor even her mastery of her craft. In fact, it is her sheer radiation of what we call joy, pure 100% Joy, that gets my higher sense in gear; that is what inspires me.

The joyful—and that truly is the best word for it—display that she and her partner Misty put on after winning a gold medal for America stirred a surprising phenomenon inside me that lies somewhere between thought and emotion—Emought, or perhaps Thotion? No matter.

You see, I began to wonder if Kerri Walsh might be an angel. If that sounds strange and sort of “out of left field” to you (and it most definitely will to the mass of sane mortals), I suggest you watch the celebration and interview footage from the Beijing victory broadcast. PERHAPS you will then understand my inclination. And no, I won’t provide a link to this video—Google it. I’m sure it exists.

So let us continue—

Joy is one of the raw materials with which Heaven is built. This may sound like mere inspirational mumbo-jumbo, but like most things that sound that way, it is a true and thoughtful statement. Would any everlasting kingdom founded without Joy as a primary building block have any hope of ever lasting? No—Joy is one of the most enlivening and inspiring elements of human existence; it keeps all of its practitioners young. One might say it makes all things new.

Thus, the ability to wield this weapon (for Joy is also an ultimate weapon in the fight against evil) so purely and so beautifully (and I mean that in the spiritual sense) would almost definitely indicate a supernatural being. Am I being unreasonable?

Such unadulterated Joy is a rare occurrence; one sees it in babies and young children; in some of our number who are mentally handicapped; and, blessedly, in the occasional Aged who has lost the ability to speak, or perhaps walk, or perhaps think straight. But to see this beautiful energy in a fully-grown human being, particularly one so heavily publicized and televised as Walsh, is a vision that rarely graces our lives. To use one of my brothers’ superb phrases, it is “a joy to behold.”

It’s funny how that works, isn’t it? Joy causes Joy. Like all good things, even like cellular life at its most basic level, Joy is a multiplicative phenomenon—it creates fellows. As Confucius once put it, in a quote that—much like Kerri Walsh—inspires me:

“Virtue is not left to stand alone. He who practices it will have neighbors.”

True Joy attracts life and Love. It is one of the keys to blessedness. Angels, I hear tell, seem to have the whole blessedness thing down pretty well. When you look at it that way, Kerri Walsh just might be an angel.

Iron Will

I recall doing something recently that I immediately regretted, and thinking disappointedly “If I had perfect self-control, I wouldn’t have done that.” But what came next was a stunning realization: over every conscious decision I make, I have total control.

But this is a contradiction with my prior thought: “IF I had perfect self-control…” Clearly, I was wrong in thinking this. It is undeniable fact that every conscious decision I’ve ever made was initiated and guided by me. So, in reality, I do have perfect self-control, and so do you.

You see, this is sin’s evil little secret—it has no real power unless we give it power. The devil, as it has been said, can only enter your house if you let him in. Once we truly understand this fact, sin’s danger is lessened because its mystery is lessened. We are able to peer into the inner workings of this nefarious machine and observe—if only for a fleeting moment, like a lightning flash—the deceptive smoke and mirrors it relies on.

But we can’t do it alone. Here’s where we delve into some theology. We can only capitalize on this realization if we ask God to work inside us. Only He possesses the power to master and dispel sin’s power, because He is the source of all creation, including our free will, our “perfect self-control.” We can put our trust in Him, or we can go it alone and accept eternal failure.

Full comprehension of this idea puts a refreshing coat of appreciation on the Catholic Prayer of Contrition:

“Oh my God, I am sorry for my sins.
In choosing to do wrong, and failing to do good,
I have sinned against You, Whom I should love above all things.
I firmly intend, with Your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin.”

(Yes, I added the bolds; I don't believe those are present in the official Roman documents)

“This is the thrilling romance of Orthodoxy. People have fallen into a foolish habit of speaking of orthodoxy as something heavy, humdrum, and safe. There never was anything so perilous or so exciting as orthodoxy.”
—G.K. Chesterton

Sweeping The Nation…into the dumpster

As time presses on in its sometimes wonderful, other times rather confounding way, man’s philosophy continues to advance in an inspiring pattern of upward evolution…right?

Actually, no. The things that work for us right now, the philosophies of life that really satisfy the heart and improve the world (what more could we ask for than those two ideals?), have been with us for a very long time, indeed. No one is going to dream up the meaning of life today. If one believes he has, he most likely not birthed a revolutionary new worldview, but instead merely realized for himself some particular aspect of the same great ideas that have satisfied the heart and improved the world throughout history.

So hold on a minute. Does that mean that the new philosophy of “Freeganism” breaks no ground in the area of ethical principles?

Well, let’s talk about what Freeganism is, and you can decide for yourself.

Freeganism, as described on Oprah, --

Wait. Did I just say that? Allow me to explain.

I was mugged yesterday, and when I woke up I was tied to a chair in a Chicago warehouse and forced to either watch Oprah or undergo intense psychological abuse (What's the difference? Ha-ha-ha-ha!!!). After ten minutes of quiet introspection and deliberation, I chose Oprah.

There, that’s better.

So they had this woman on Oprah who described herself as a “Freegan.” Basically, the Freegans are people who are fed up with the current economic system in America. To manifest this frustration with the system, they simply choose to withdraw from it. They abstain from buying food from any business or individual. Instead, they opt to forage through dumpsters and garbage bins, essentially living off the waste of their fellow citizens.

Jesus said that those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted (Matthew 23:12). Evidently, the Freegans choose to sidestep this dilemma, and instead attempt to exalt themselves and humble themselves.

I see two problems with that.

First of all, they’re exalting themselves. By showing off their alternative lifestyle to Oprah and anyone else who will listen, they are not, as they might contend, living out a life of principle. They are acting out in order to get attention. They are the logical maturity of the child in our 1st grade class who ate food off of the floor, to rounds of raucous laughter and applause, or (as the case might have been) general bewilderment and distaste. The Freegans are not living out their principles. If they were, they could emigrate from America and its unjust free markets.

To the Freegans, I have this to say: I hear that the summers are to die for in China.

Wow, they cleared out pretty quick after that. The point is that no sane human being would ever leave America's economy in order to support a Communist economy. Say as much as one wants about cooperation and equality and universal healthcare, no Communist system has ever really panned out as well in practice as it did on paper. America is the country that offers the best odds of success, from a purely practical standpoint. And, incidentally, America is also the country that allows people to dig through trash to make their livelihood.

It is not principle that drives these people, because they choose to remain in America rather than move elsewhere. It is attention, perhaps with some scorn thrown in (scorn being one sentiment that always makes one feel righteous and justified, even when that’s not the case), that they seek.

So the Freegans are not as self-sacrificing as they might present themselves. In fact, upon close observation, we see that they are more self-centered than anything else.

That brings us to the next point. If you’re going to be self-centered, do it right! More seriously put, I mean to say that no human being should eat another’s garbage. If the Freegan sees this action as a gesture of humility, he should perhaps study up on what true humility is. Ebenezer Scrooge was the epitome of self-centeredness; but all it took was three Spirits to cure him. To cure a Freegan, one would need a generous mess of Spirits and several cognitive psychologists.

No, I’m not saying I have all of the answers about being humble (Although I do have one! See below…). I’m just saying that the Freegans have none of the answers. And in another sense, they show us what one of the answers isn’t.

So that’s about it.

Have a great one, and if you get hungry, please approach the front of the restaurant, rather than the back.

Signing off,
Joezilla

An Unurgent Directive to Be Less Urgent

Here is something I wrote a few months ago after a sudden feeling of inspiration one day. It felt good to write it.

AN UNURGENT DIRECTIVE TO BE LESS URGENT.

Today I was walking along a beautifully tree-lined pathway on the Northwestern campus, reading about the numbing effect that the daily grind of work and study can have on people the world over. If you are numbed right now, you might not have understood the first sentence. Read it again, and deeply take in the meaning. Are you with us again? Excellent—let us proceed.

Struck with sudden inspiration in the middle of my readwalk, I gradually drifted off the blacktop and toward a tree that stood next to the path. Leaning against this tree, I observed the events taking place around me. The leaves had turned color (it is the midst of fall as I write this directive), a chill was in the air, and people of all sizes and philosophies scurried, strolled, or staggered to their respective destinations. I had momentarily withdrawn from my transit in order to observe, and thus I had withdrawn from the action of this world. While the advancing course of my day had come to a fleeting pause, everyone else’s nonetheless continued. People went about their business seemingly unaware that one of their fellows had briefly surrendered to inaction.

During this break, a startling shot of insight came into my mind. I saw the world (from where I stood) as being like a colony of ants, particularly like one of those kits that are sold for children, where one can view the progress of the ants’ civilization through clear sheets of plastic or glass. I saw that over the thousands of years of our civilizations’ development, our species had come far. We had transcended the capabilities of the ants long ago. What made this transcendence possible, or in other words, what differentiated our civilization and its capabilities from those of the ants? Our size is one factor which cannot be denied. This may sound simplistic, but it is deeper than you may realize. We are capable of doing greater tasks than ants, yes. But we are also incapable of doing as insignificant tasks as ants are able to do. Our size is a double-edged sword. But I am digressing.

Another factor is intelligence. By our standards, we are able to think greater ideas, communicate clearer thoughts, and thus accomplish greater tasks due to our painstakingly developed minds.

But the most important factor is our very humanity. We are conscious, we are able to reason and feel, to intuit and create. Though our civilization and attitudes have developed and changed dramatically over the years, our fundamental humanity has changed very little. Physically, emotionally, and mentally, we are essentially the same types of beings as could be found on this planet two thousand years ago. Any reading of ancient prose or poetry will quickly reveal this fact.

All of the facts of our current sophistication are so; and yet, we are still ants in the cosmic scheme. We are all minuscule creatures living out our roles in this society, this kit that God has built and watches over every day. He has a plan. He always has.


I look around sometimes and wonder what is happening to society. I see troublesome forces, forces of selfishness, pride, and anger, threatening the safety and development of the young generations. I see people and ideologies so repulsive to what I believe to be the just and righteous and sane society, that I feel I must fight them to the last man. I feel like I must take every possible action to speak out against the evils of the world, to proclaim my common sense any time there is an opportunity for it, to divide between “us” and “them,” and to struggle to the point of exhaustion. I have the weight of the world on my shoulders! It is up to me to save it! Such are the thoughts that often went through my mind when I saw evidence of evil in society, a common sight nowadays.

I know what you are thinking: “How do you know what is evil and what is good? Who says you’re right?” Well, simply put, I say I am right, and that is enough for me. As G.K. Chesterton said, “If I say that it may be wrong, I say that is not my opinion.” I truly believe that my most passionate beliefs are in accordance with God’s will. That is not as crazy as it sounds when you think about it. I believe in and worship God. Why would I believe something I take to be contrary to His desires? So that settles the matter of why I believe so strongly in what I believe, if that makes sense.

But am I right to take up Atlas’ position and strain my back with the weight of the globe? No, and that is exactly what my brief respite taught me. God is the Master of the ant colony; He set it up, and He is letting it progress as He sees fit. If something is going wrong, it is so that everything may eventually go right, for He who created us has planned it that way. My limited human vision only sees the here and now; it ignores the vast past that led up to this point in history, and it likewise ignores the unfathomable future which continually hurtles toward us as the present moment, and shows no signs of stopping.

The ultimate point is that it is all in His hands—everything! This does not exempt us from doing our duty and speaking our truths. Instead, it informs us that we are given opportunities for such words and deeds, and we will know when these opportunities arise. There is no need to force a battle in the war against a decaying society. Like all conflicts of the past, the outcome was decided long before the first blow was struck, and the affair, no matter how ugly, was still being overseen by a loving Creator.

Living as a loving Christian here and now, setting an example to all that you meet, is in the vast majority of situations the far more effective converter of hearts. “They will know we are Christians by our love,” not by our sound arguments and reasoned opinions. So relax more, worry less. Listen more, speak less. And when the time comes, gently step up to the microphone, say what must be said, and never forget just Who you are living for.

Read Things Worth Reading

Well, I must say I was flattered by the friendly plug I received from my colleague’s blog (here’s the URL, because I don’t yet know how to make the text a direct link, and, quite honestly, don’t yet care either: http://writethingsworthreading.blogspot.com/).

I assure you it is more than mere obligation that drives me to urge you to visit the above blog. Why? Well, in all honesty, as the sidebar on the right says somewhat wishy-washily, if you like this column then you will love Matt’s.

Believe me when I say that this is true. Matt’s blog is, on the whole, far more interesting and far more interactive than this one. Whereas this blog is hardly even a blog (its contents could easily be hammered out on an antique typewriter and retain the same general effect that they have here on your screen), being made of mere text, that is, Matt’s is unequivocally a high-tech marvel of a website, chock full all sorts of novel links and curiosities.

You should consider yourself lucky if you get to see a new picture of Donkey Kong posted up here every few months or so. If you ever see just a picture of Donkey Kong on Matt’s blog, and not at the very least a live video of him, if not a hologram, you should write Matt an angry letter (or e-mail, perhaps, would be more appropriate).

With every new blog post from Matt, you can expect to see a video from the deepest darkest corners of the Web retrieved by space-age sorcery, a link to some newfangled website that serves some bizarre yet appealing purpose, or even just a really good picture corresponding to what he wrote. Because, yes, in addition to what I’ve just gone on and on about, he writes. And he writes jolly well! In short, what he writes, is worth reading.

So that’s that, folks. Go to http://writethingsworthreading.blogspot.com/. Go there now.

And if you actually found here through there, keep going there – but from now on always come here first!

That’s right, Matthew. My plugs only go so far. They will not get past the locked doors that exist in my own mercenary heart.

Have a great one!

It’s been real,
nice.

That was a sentence. It’s been real nice. Did you think I was saying “It’s been real”? I wasn’t; I’m no fan of that expression for the precise reason I just illustrated: It can be misleading. It sounds unresolved. Which reminds me of a great book called Blue Like Jazz. But that’s a whole ‘nother story.

It’s been real nice,
Joezilla

Rational Security

“It is always the secure who are humble.”

G.K. Chesterton’s words always require a complex routine of mental gymnastics to decipher fully, and the above quote is no exception.

I take it to mean that in order to be a truly humble person, one first must achieve a level of self-confidence that could be called being “secure.” This, of course, would be the opposite of “insecure.” But can we ever really, completely stop being insecure?

In our best moments, yes, I say we can. When the circumstances are right, and we feel that irresistible Force pushing us to be at our best (because we all have times like that, don’t we?), we can completely transcend the immature boundaries that our society has conditioned us to have:

“Oh, no, I’ve got to walk up the aisle of this auditorium full of people, everyone’s going to look at me! Are my shoes tied? Is my fly open? Is there a booger hanging out of my nose?”

We’ve probably all had moments like that. Or maybe not. Anyway…

I think that the only way we stop feeling insecure is to stop acting insecure. Even if we feel completely self-conscious walking up the aisle in that crowded auditorium, we still have the choice, it is still completely within our realm of capability, to put our shoulders back and walk up confidently. We all have a right to be here, and there is never a reason to feel ashamed, unsure, or even just a little awkward. You know what you’re doing, even if no one else does. And in the end, no one really cares anyway. They’re not even going to be looking at your nostrils, trust me.
So let’s move on to humility. Doesn’t humility mean stepping out of the spotlight, shrugging off compliments, and ascribing your successes to other people, events, or to God? Well, yes, I think so, but that’s not all of it. You see, I recently had an experience where I was playing music in front of a group. But it wasn’t a performance, really, at all.

I was at church. The whole idea was to be in the background, to add to the atmosphere, not absorb it into my spotlight. So you see, I had a lot of power in my hands. I could play for the right reasons, to add to the spiritual experiences of everyone at church, or I could take steps to highlight my own playing, my own skills. I could dwell on what people were thinking of me as I played my heart out in front of them all.

Well, luckily for me, I knew that I would be a pathetic and arrogant failure in the humility department if I practiced the latter. I’ve never really been an overtly egotistical person (unless I’m blind to it, in which case I could be right now!). That kind of thing doesn’t work for me.

But the most dangerous wolf is the one in sheep’s clothing; he can get close to the herd, make friends with the other sheep, before going for their throat. Likewise, the most insidious of vices are the ones that paint themselves as virtues or harmless pleasures, or that make us think they're not really there. Those are the ones that can really get us. And that’s where I fell a little short that day. You see, I was concentrating so much on being humble, that I wasn’t practicing real humility, the ultimate humility that we strive for. I was overthinking it.

But wait. Can you really overthink being humble? You know, if you think more about it, you’ll just get more and more humble. Is that a bad thing?

Well, yes it is, if it takes our mind off our priorities. I was being so humble that day at church that I was mentally patting myself on the back for it:

“Yeah, Joe, that was a pretty humble job. I loved the way you humbly deflected that compliment back at that guy. Well done.”

Yeah, that’s almost word for word.

Now I shouldn’t forget that what matters is that I was humble during the Mass. I didn’t let the demons of ego take control. But the next step, then, is to really jump into the cold water and stop worrying about being humble.

So real humility, I think, is being supremely humble, and not thinking about it.

If we have faith, we don’t need to consciously practice humility. If we go into everything with the right attitude, then all the pieces fall into place. Humility becomes a part of our character. And that’s about it.

Now the real question is, should I even publish this essay here on the blog, or would it be more humble to keep it offline?

There I go again!

Securely but humbly,
Joezilla

The Power of One (sounds cool, has no actual bearing on the text)

"Train up a fig tree in the way it should go, and when you are old sit under the shade of it."

A wonderful quote from Charles Dickens, fitting for the day I find myself in. It is also fitting that I should begin this blog with a quote, as quotes are one of my favorite forms of wisdom. Like bars of candy, the quote or aphorism gives a “Fun Size” bit of wisdom that can often come at just the right time. But enough about candy. Let’s get on to the meat and potatoes.
This, as you most likely know, is a blog. That is a funny word, and though I am usually partial to funny words there is something inherently repulsive in this particular one. I much prefer sasquatch or blubber, but I did not invent the idea, so I claim no right to naming it. Onward!
Why am I doing this? My reasons for writing this blog are threefold: Firstly, it is a wonderful way to pass the time when I have exhausted other more pressing or inviting options. In other words, I have a lot of time to spend and I need a somewhat constructive way in which to spend it. Also, I need an alternative to homework in case that ever becomes too boring. Secondly, writing about something I am interested in, or about nothing in particular, as I am right now, in addition to being a tremendously enjoyable experience, keeps my mental faculties sharpened. This will no doubt be a blessing to me as I sojourn further into the land of Huge Essays and eventually stumble blearily into the territory of the dreaded Double Digit Paper Beast. I have heard that certain specimens of these can reach lengths of 20 or more pages. Though I still shudder at the thought of facing such fiendish brutes, I am quite sure that keeping my rhetorical wits about me by writing this blog will only serve to help me in my encounters with them. Thirdly, I hope to share some small glimmer of happiness, insight, or entertainment with you, my dear reader (even if I am talking only to myself). There is much to be said for the sharing of deeper thoughts, as well as lighter ones, and this blog will serve as a resource for both.
I am not, as one might expect, writing this blog in order to share bits and pieces of my humanity with an audience of readers. I have nothing to prove; I know I am a human, and I assume most everyone else does, as well. If anyone doubts my humanity, either they are crazy or they know something that I don’t. If the latter is true, please do not alert me—ignorance is bliss, at least in this case. Further, I am not writing this blog as a replacement for a journal; I already keep a journal (albeit rather sporadically), right next to my bedside, and said journal is for personal thoughts and ideas that are not to be shared in this essentially public forum. Thus, you are not reading my innermost thoughts and feelings, you are reading the thoughts and feelings that I felt would best contribute to an effective blog entry (if, in fact, you are reading this at all).
All right! With that out of the way, I can actually get to the business of this inaugural entry, which will not be extremely lengthy. Let us return to the aforementioned Charles Dickens quote. “Train up a fig tree in the way it should go, and when you are old sit under the shade of it.” This is, of course, a takeoff on the popular Bible verse “Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it” (Proverbs 22:6). That said, it is easy to see the meaning behind both sayings. They speak of the rewards of patient diligence focused toward a specific goal. Great deeds are often accomplished by Herculean effort over a short period of time; Wikipedia tells me the Empire State Building was built in just over a year, from excavation to ribbon-cutting. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Empire_State_building However, there is something to be said for a comparatively minimal effort over a great period of time. I’ve seen the benefit a small amount of daily practice does for my saxophonic abilities. And a daily donation of just $1 will help to support that wonderful programming you’ve come to expect from PBS (and at the end of the year, you’ll realize they’ve conned you into making a $365 donation—luckily, I’m not speaking from experience).
Why am I saying this? Well, Dickens’ wonderful adaptation of Proverbs came to my mind this morning as I brushed my teeth. You see, through the sheer Providence of God, complemented—or perhaps implemented!—by clever scheduling, I managed to procure for the Winter term a Friday completely free of classes. It occurred to me that I could assign myself the duty of self-improvement on this weekly free day. I could commit to a specific exercise regimen for that specific day, different from the other days’ exercise. I could choose a specific jazz chord progression to practice improvising over. I could implement any number of edifying activities that would produce a more quality product (and by that I mean person) by the spring. All day I thought on these things.
It is now 9:39, and I have neither practiced nor exercised. I have, in fact, spent the day playing video games, watching movies, and eating. Perhaps the next entry should center around human nature and how to control it.
All in all, though, it’s been a great day, and it’s not over yet. I can still practice and exercise. Maybe the next entry should instead focus on the process of how to have one’s cake, and eat it too.

With confidence,
Joezilla