20081012

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!

20081009

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.

20081002

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.