I'm reading this new book by Rod Dreher about the organic, natural, alfalfa conservatives and why some elements of what we'd consider flaky left-wing philosophy - environmentalism, small-town farming, expensive organic produce - are really conservative ideals in nature, and how the modern conservative movement when taken to the extreme seems strangely isolated from Christian ideals.
A very interesting read, and I find myself agreeing with a lot of what he says. For instance, it's considered fashionable in conservative circles to sneer at the excesses of the environmental movement and put down the validity of global warming claims, etc. But there's nothing Christian about adopting an arrogant contempt for the environment, in mere snide reaction to the dangerous philosophies that would over-glorify it. And I for one agree with his point: I have very little patience with those people who seem to delight in antagonising the opposing cause with such bumper stickers as I love spotted owls - fried, because the fact of the matter is, some degree of responsibility is called for. That's what taking dominion is all about.
But, as it's the negatives that jump out at me and demand my attention and disagreement the loudest, I'll point them out here.
On page 46, he recounts his shock upon learning that a family he knows had been featured in the local paper, facing hard times because their business has been suffering. Unbeknownst to him, in their financial straits they had been relying on the state's Children's Health Insurance Program, a government subsidy of low-income families. The Republican legislature had led to cutbacks in the program, forcing the family to choose, as the author put it, between 'filling their children's teeth or their bellies.' His wife called up the family and offered to help financially, but the family graciously refused, saying that they would manage by having the mom go to work to help support the family. The author denounced the Republicans who pushed through the cuts, pointing out that they were sacrificing family values and undermining the institution most necessary for society to conserve, on the altar of efficiency.
Now, I agree that capitalism can be brutal, and that as Christians we should not be intent first and foremost on efficiency and saving money. We are warned in Scripture about setting our heart upon riches, and cautioned not to love money. But I can't agree with the author's scathing rebuke of the policy that would deny government subsidies to (even well-deserving) poor families. He is confusing individual virtues (charity, self-denial, forgiveness) with institutional requirements (honesty, integrity, responsibility). This is a common enough mistake, but it can be very dangerous when Christians try to apply individual Christian virtues to the government. We as Christians are called to be forgiving, but we as officials are called to be just. It's not up to the courts to forgive offenders; it's their job to punish wrong-doers.
This is a hard situation, and this struggling family certainly has my sympathy, but look at the situation. Even their friends didn't know the financial struggles they were going through. Why hadn't they made their needs known to the church? As pointed out, the friends offered to help them out, but they turned them down, choosing instead to have the mom go to work (which is a tough decision) rather than to take 'charity.' But they were already taking charity from the government! Why was it okay for the government to pay for their kids but not the church family? The author rips into the Republican government for not acting like a compassionate church family should do, when the family denied their church family the opportunity to demonstrate generosity and love to them by turning to the government to meet their needs first.
Second, the author lauds the whole organic, natural, non-processed food movement, and explains how they bought their food at farmer's markets, first in New York and then in Dallas. He explains how horrible the commercial mass-produced food market is (granted, hot dogs are nasty things), and encourages everyone to make the sacrifice to shop organic and natural:
To be sure, this costs more money. I wince when I have to pay almost twice the price for a roasting hen from Texas Supernatural Meats as I do for the same chicken from the supermarket. But that price difference is about the cost of a single venti latte from Starbucks. If you do an inventory of where the family's food budget goes, it's not hard to find ways you can save by cutting out unnecessary and even unhealthful food (chips and soda, for example), and apply that money toward buying ethically and nutritionally superior food. And there are ways to save money in other areas of the household economy - the entertainment budget, for example - to free up funds to purchase healthier food. It's all a matter of priority.
'If anyone says that being crunchy is fine for those who can afford it, you have my guarantee that they have no idea what they are talking about....'
Well, excuse me, but I know exactly what I am talking about when I say that being crunchy is fine for those who can afford it. Now before I go off ranting and raving, let me remind myself that this author is addressing the majority of Americans who are living in mainstream culture, complete with 'McMansions,' SUVs, and an addiction to eating out, in hopes of persuading them of adopting a more sensible lifestyle. All well and good. But that being noted, I shall continue with my rant. Now then! I've already done careful inventory of our family food budget, and I know exactly where the money goes! The fact is that we don't have the wiggle room to pay twice as much for our chickens, because we're not already in the habit of splurging for venti lattes from Starbucks. We've already cut our expenses pretty much to the bone, and I guarantee you that there's not the price of an organic chicken coming out of our entertainment budget. Chips and soda? Ha! Of course it's a matter of priority, and my priority is to have the money to pay for groceries at all, on one income, considering that we're not bestselling authors and columnists.
Sorry, that was a little snide, but my point is that you can never tell someone what is best for him, because you can never assume that you know all the facts about his situation. It's all well and good to say what worked for you, and to enthuse on the benefits that came to you from cutting out your Starbucks habit and putting that money into organic chickens, but don't go around assuming that everyone else is as irresponsible as you were before your eyes were opened.
But other than those two irritations, it's a very good book so far. Back to reading it.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
And a good time was had by all
This weekend we had an impossibly long to-do list. We had a significant amount of fencing (garden, not rapiers) to run, a garage-door opener to install, a lawn to mow and spread chemicals on, and various odds and ends which had crept up on us. So when Ron and Catherine called us up to see if we wanted to spend the day in Helen, we immediately said 'Yes!' Why not seize the day?
Alpine Helen is a little Bavarian town about an hour north of here, very quaint and full of cute shops and delicious fudge. We spent the afternoon wandering around, poking into the shops, admiring the scenery, eating free samples of fudge, and taking pictures of the babies who played together so nicely.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Books and blinders
This last weekend we finally attacked the daunting project of moving books and shelves around. We'd been avoiding it for long enough, on the reasoning that before we did any major furniture moving we wanted to buy a carpet cleaner and clean the carpets thoroughly, since we need to do that anyway and it makes sense to do it before any moving so as not to move heavy stuff twice. We still intend to purchase a carpet cleaner when a good enough deal comes up. But we cannot let that be an excuse for avoiding necessary work any longer.
So we moved the two bookshelves in the office up to the bonus room, and moved two bookshelves from the nursery into our bedroom and another two into the office. Now the nursery actually has wall space, allowing us to move the crib out from in front of the window (my nightmares about shattering glass falling over sleeping Baby as clumsy burglars trip over her in the middle of the night are now over) and making the room safe for Jane to crawl around in without everything being a no-no.
The first half of the job took far longer than it had to because we kept stopping and flipping though books. Eventually we learned better and strictly charged ourselves to concentrate on getting the job done, deciding what to keep later. But I read quite a bit of interesting stuff, including an extract from a political science textbook from one of Michael's old classes. Because of the subject matter I was sure it would be controversial, but as I read it it actually made a good bit of sense.
Basically, it presumed a hypothetical race where a white runner and a black runner are competing, only the authorities make the black runner run with weights. Naturally, he falls behind. Eventually, the authorities decide that this is unfair, and take the weights away, but the black runner is still behind. What should they do? Would it be fair to let the black runner catch up? That might reduce the inequity of the overall race, but would that be fair to the white runner, who after all didn't make the rules in the first place? Maybe the white runner really was faster, anyway.
Of course, it was presenting some of the dilemmas of affirmative action, which I still don't believe is a good solution. History is full of inequality, and there is no way any 'authorities' can even things out by changing the rules around to let anyone 'catch up' to anyone else at any given time. The best thing to do is to make sure that the rules are as fair as possible, right now, and let things take their natural course. However, the little analogy did help me to understand some of the reasoning behind some people's philosophy, and to resolve more than ever not to be so wrapped in my 'right' way of thinking that I miss out on the opportunity to hear what the other person is saying. I likely won't change my mind, but I might learn something about the other side, and I certainly wouldn't get anywhere with smug self-confidence or antagonising patronage.
However, this in turn made me question how far to go in any sort of open-mindedness. Obviously I want to be teachable where there is room for error. But I don't want to be tossed about by every wind of doctrine, susceptible to the least convincing. At some point I must keep my blinders resolutely on and not even consider veering from the path of truth. How tightly these discernment blinders must be kept is a puzzling question.
So we moved the two bookshelves in the office up to the bonus room, and moved two bookshelves from the nursery into our bedroom and another two into the office. Now the nursery actually has wall space, allowing us to move the crib out from in front of the window (my nightmares about shattering glass falling over sleeping Baby as clumsy burglars trip over her in the middle of the night are now over) and making the room safe for Jane to crawl around in without everything being a no-no.
The first half of the job took far longer than it had to because we kept stopping and flipping though books. Eventually we learned better and strictly charged ourselves to concentrate on getting the job done, deciding what to keep later. But I read quite a bit of interesting stuff, including an extract from a political science textbook from one of Michael's old classes. Because of the subject matter I was sure it would be controversial, but as I read it it actually made a good bit of sense.
Basically, it presumed a hypothetical race where a white runner and a black runner are competing, only the authorities make the black runner run with weights. Naturally, he falls behind. Eventually, the authorities decide that this is unfair, and take the weights away, but the black runner is still behind. What should they do? Would it be fair to let the black runner catch up? That might reduce the inequity of the overall race, but would that be fair to the white runner, who after all didn't make the rules in the first place? Maybe the white runner really was faster, anyway.
Of course, it was presenting some of the dilemmas of affirmative action, which I still don't believe is a good solution. History is full of inequality, and there is no way any 'authorities' can even things out by changing the rules around to let anyone 'catch up' to anyone else at any given time. The best thing to do is to make sure that the rules are as fair as possible, right now, and let things take their natural course. However, the little analogy did help me to understand some of the reasoning behind some people's philosophy, and to resolve more than ever not to be so wrapped in my 'right' way of thinking that I miss out on the opportunity to hear what the other person is saying. I likely won't change my mind, but I might learn something about the other side, and I certainly wouldn't get anywhere with smug self-confidence or antagonising patronage.
However, this in turn made me question how far to go in any sort of open-mindedness. Obviously I want to be teachable where there is room for error. But I don't want to be tossed about by every wind of doctrine, susceptible to the least convincing. At some point I must keep my blinders resolutely on and not even consider veering from the path of truth. How tightly these discernment blinders must be kept is a puzzling question.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Let me count the ways
Last week Michael called me from work to say that he loved me. It was very sweet, sincere, and much appreciated, and indeed was the sole purpose of the call. But it reminded me of another conversation I overheard once, when I worked next door to a person whom I'll call Mr. H, which conversation I overheard because Mr. H was fond of using speakerphone:
Mrs. H: Hello?
Mr. H: (pause) I just wanted to call you and tell you that I love you.
Mrs. H: Riiiiiiiight. You hit me by accident on speed dial, didn't you?
Mr. H: That too, but also I love you.
Mrs. H: Hello?
Mr. H: (pause) I just wanted to call you and tell you that I love you.
Mrs. H: Riiiiiiiight. You hit me by accident on speed dial, didn't you?
Mr. H: That too, but also I love you.
Not for the faint of heart
This may be the worst thing I have ever heard of. It's worse than the Black Death.
You really should not click on the link. But if you do, don't read the article.
Ever since I read it, I've been experiencing some of the symptoms. So far, just the itchiness.
You really should not click on the link. But if you do, don't read the article.
Ever since I read it, I've been experiencing some of the symptoms. So far, just the itchiness.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Short stuff
- Something is chomping its way through the green beans. I went out and bought a powerful insecticide today, in case it's bugs, and I'm dreading having to buy finer fencing should it turn out to be rabbits. Michael thought I was being overly dramatic when I told him how perturbed I was that wild animals are devouring our food supply. Ha! I'll fight them to the death (theirs, at least) over this matter of property rights.
- It seems impossible to find properly fitting sheets for a deep mattress. We have only one set that works, which was a wedding present, and I jolly well wish we'd snapped up a few more sets of the same kind. I have bought several sheet sets over the past couple of years, only to be disappointed in the size of the flat sheet. Sure, they make the fitted sheet big enough to fit over the deeper pocket, but forget to lengthen the flat sheet accordingly, so that there is never enough overhang to tuck it in. Very frustrating. If any of you happen to spot a queen sheet set boasting a flat sheet with dimensions of 105 inches in length, let me know and I'll buy it.
- I'm reading through Anna Karenina right now. Bleah. It's very depressing. Is anyone going to end up happily ever after? Probably not.
- But the dreary, complicated, fatalistic Russian philosophy is nicely counterbalanced by the sarcastic and comical Tristam Shandy, of which I've read only a few pages but which already had me laughing out loud at the author's account of his certainty on the date of his conception:
"My father, you must know...was, I believe, one of the most regular men in every thing he did, whether 'twas matter of business, or matter of amusement, that ever lived. As a small specimen of this extreme exactness of his, to which he was in truth a slave, -- he had made it a rule for many years of his life, -- on the first Sunday night of every month through-out the whole year, -- as certain as ever the Sunday night came, ---- to wind up a large house-clock which we had standing upon the back-stairs head, with his own hands: -- And being somewhere between fifty and sixty years of age, at the time I have been speaking of,-- he had likewise gradually brought some other little family concernments to the same period, in order, as he would often say to my uncle Toby, to get them all out of the way at one time, and be no more plagued and pester'd with them the rest of the month."
- It seems impossible to find properly fitting sheets for a deep mattress. We have only one set that works, which was a wedding present, and I jolly well wish we'd snapped up a few more sets of the same kind. I have bought several sheet sets over the past couple of years, only to be disappointed in the size of the flat sheet. Sure, they make the fitted sheet big enough to fit over the deeper pocket, but forget to lengthen the flat sheet accordingly, so that there is never enough overhang to tuck it in. Very frustrating. If any of you happen to spot a queen sheet set boasting a flat sheet with dimensions of 105 inches in length, let me know and I'll buy it.
- I'm reading through Anna Karenina right now. Bleah. It's very depressing. Is anyone going to end up happily ever after? Probably not.
- But the dreary, complicated, fatalistic Russian philosophy is nicely counterbalanced by the sarcastic and comical Tristam Shandy, of which I've read only a few pages but which already had me laughing out loud at the author's account of his certainty on the date of his conception:
"My father, you must know...was, I believe, one of the most regular men in every thing he did, whether 'twas matter of business, or matter of amusement, that ever lived. As a small specimen of this extreme exactness of his, to which he was in truth a slave, -- he had made it a rule for many years of his life, -- on the first Sunday night of every month through-out the whole year, -- as certain as ever the Sunday night came, ---- to wind up a large house-clock which we had standing upon the back-stairs head, with his own hands: -- And being somewhere between fifty and sixty years of age, at the time I have been speaking of,-- he had likewise gradually brought some other little family concernments to the same period, in order, as he would often say to my uncle Toby, to get them all out of the way at one time, and be no more plagued and pester'd with them the rest of the month."
Friday, May 05, 2006
The May Tea Party
To celebrate Jane's first birthday, we had a tea party consisting of luncheon, tea, and parlour games. It was a splendid success, and though the guest of honour didn't quite catch the drift, she very much enjoyed the guests and all the attention. We dressed up in hats and gloves, and then ate delicacies aplenty, and after feasting retired to the drawing room to play the Poem Game, and then we gave our guests their gifts (because we want to start a tradition of holding birthday parties in the hobbit style, where the guest of honour gives gifts to the guests), and then we ate cake. It was all very pleasant and jolly.
A mouse has cut the wire. Goodbye!
Oh, how I hate doing without the small comforts of civilisation to which I have grown accustomed! A terrific thunderstorm came through on Tuesday night and knocked out - not our electricity, but something almost as bad: our cable connection, which encompasses our phone and internet. Thus I was stranded and isolated all day, on a day on which of all days I most sorely needed a computer, to print off the free ice cream coupons for Jane's birthday, to renew my nearly-overdue books at the library, and to cancel our free trial subscription to Netflix before it stopped being free. Many frantic cell phone calls were made to Michael at work, who went on in to the office anyway because he couldn't do anything until the cable company came out to fix it.
Meanwhile I discovered all sorts of other random things that the power surge had fried:
- The dishwasher. Now we're back to handwashing dishes. I used to do this all the time until I got pregnant and became too tired to keep up, at which Michael took over and used the dishwasher, and I found it so convenient not to have a drainboard and dripping dishes on the counter at all times that I fell into the habit. Of course the dishwasher was full up of dirty dishes when this was discovered, so I had a huge backlog to catch up on. Now it should be easier to keep up.
- The garage door remotes. The opener still works from the button on the wall, which means I can open it before setting off and then, after backing the car out, push the button and make a mad dash while ducking under the falling door. This is rather exciting at first, but it's not so exciting to get back in again, which requires turning off the car to free up the front door key, opening the front door, going around and opening the garage door, and pulling the car in. I would personally be inclined not to bother and simply park the cars in the driveway until the door is fixed, but it's getting to be hot season now, and Michael will not have this.
- The sound card on our downstairs computer, and pretty much everything on the upstairs computer. My grasp of all this is a bit more vague, but since I never use the upstairs computer and all our stuff is stored on the downstairs computer, it's not an insurmountable tragedy.
All of these things will be fixed or replace in good time. Meanwhile I'm just grateful to have phone and internet again. I can see clearly now!
Meanwhile I discovered all sorts of other random things that the power surge had fried:
- The dishwasher. Now we're back to handwashing dishes. I used to do this all the time until I got pregnant and became too tired to keep up, at which Michael took over and used the dishwasher, and I found it so convenient not to have a drainboard and dripping dishes on the counter at all times that I fell into the habit. Of course the dishwasher was full up of dirty dishes when this was discovered, so I had a huge backlog to catch up on. Now it should be easier to keep up.
- The garage door remotes. The opener still works from the button on the wall, which means I can open it before setting off and then, after backing the car out, push the button and make a mad dash while ducking under the falling door. This is rather exciting at first, but it's not so exciting to get back in again, which requires turning off the car to free up the front door key, opening the front door, going around and opening the garage door, and pulling the car in. I would personally be inclined not to bother and simply park the cars in the driveway until the door is fixed, but it's getting to be hot season now, and Michael will not have this.
- The sound card on our downstairs computer, and pretty much everything on the upstairs computer. My grasp of all this is a bit more vague, but since I never use the upstairs computer and all our stuff is stored on the downstairs computer, it's not an insurmountable tragedy.
All of these things will be fixed or replace in good time. Meanwhile I'm just grateful to have phone and internet again. I can see clearly now!
Monday, May 01, 2006
Mayday
Today should be a day of sunshine and flowers, of cupcakes and lemonade. But it's grey and chilly weather, and I'm forced to wear long sleeves and socks instead of the traditional flowered prints, short sleeves, and sandals. Blah.
Yesterday we went to an air show at Dobbins Air Force Base. We got there just in time to see the grand finale, the Blue Angels. I think I've seen them perform once before (a long time ago, in Oregon, we went to air shows fairly frequently), but if so, I wasn't sufficiently impressed. They are spectacular and breathtaking. I wish we hadn't forgotten to take our camera, because there were so many photogenic formations! I shall just have to go online and order a poster of them. To my surprise, it turns out that they are military planes, which is why the air shows in which they perform are generally free.
While we were there, we wandered around looking at various other birds on display, climbing inside the cockpits of some and admiring others from a distance. I did not know this, but apparently there is ongoing friendly rivalry between fixed-wing pilots (airplanes, etc.) and swing-wing pilots (helicopters), sort of like between the Army and the Navy (there is also apparently some rivalry between the Navy and the Marines, but that's not official, because technically the Marines are a branch of the Navy). Michael exchanged a bit of good-natured chaff with one of the helicopter pilots, who said he had heard them all but still laughed and told us a few.
Q: How do helicopters stay up?
A: Well, you might think it's the propeller, but actually they're so ugly that the earth's gravity naturally repels them.
Yesterday we went to an air show at Dobbins Air Force Base. We got there just in time to see the grand finale, the Blue Angels. I think I've seen them perform once before (a long time ago, in Oregon, we went to air shows fairly frequently), but if so, I wasn't sufficiently impressed. They are spectacular and breathtaking. I wish we hadn't forgotten to take our camera, because there were so many photogenic formations! I shall just have to go online and order a poster of them. To my surprise, it turns out that they are military planes, which is why the air shows in which they perform are generally free.
While we were there, we wandered around looking at various other birds on display, climbing inside the cockpits of some and admiring others from a distance. I did not know this, but apparently there is ongoing friendly rivalry between fixed-wing pilots (airplanes, etc.) and swing-wing pilots (helicopters), sort of like between the Army and the Navy (there is also apparently some rivalry between the Navy and the Marines, but that's not official, because technically the Marines are a branch of the Navy). Michael exchanged a bit of good-natured chaff with one of the helicopter pilots, who said he had heard them all but still laughed and told us a few.
Q: How do helicopters stay up?
A: Well, you might think it's the propeller, but actually they're so ugly that the earth's gravity naturally repels them.
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