Remember Calvin and Hobbes, the comic strip from about ten years ago (or maybe fifteen. I lose track of these things) -- the bratty little kid with his maybe-imaginary-maybe-not pet tiger? He's been making a reappearance at my house lately. Boogaloo discovered him on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in Mommy and Daddy's bedroom and has been dragging him all over the house. Homicidal Psycho Jungle Cat is downstairs by the printer while The Essential Calvin and Hobbes is peeking out from under our dresser. Revenge of the Babysat occupies a permanent place in the diaper bag. There are enough pictures in it to get a cranky Boogaloo halfway through the grocery store.
So I've been refamiliarizing myself with the antics of this spiky-haired six-year-old. He's such a devilish little manipulator with such a huge imagination. I was a little like that as a child. The real world wasn't half as exciting to me as my imaginary worlds, and I would gladly have kept a pet tiger if my stuffed animal collection had afforded it (I did have a baby seal and a stuffed unicorn. They were exciting). The scary thing is that I can really see bits of him in Boogaloo. Not that I'm worried about Boogaloo picking up on any of his behaviors, but some of them might be there already.
It's such a treat to see my daughter picking up something I love and enjoying it on her level. Granted, she's three. She doesn't even read yet. She has to rely on the pictures and the facial expressions for her entertainment, but that's more than enough. Bill Watterson is such a talented illustrator that even a three-year-old can get something out of his pictures. She reads the books so studiously too. She doesn't laugh or comment. She just raptly turns the pages. I hope she isn't mistaking Calvin's world for reality. In a couple of years, she might be asking us for a tiger.
But the reason I'm thinking about Calvin tonight is that when I'm not picking up Calvin and Hobbes, I've been glancing through Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion ( the former is named after the latter, you know). The Institutes makes a good break from Augustine and The City of God, and sometimes they even play off each other. I was just reflecting on Augustine's studied abhorrence of the pagan gods that were set up as rivals to Christ. Then I turned to Calvin and pick up his analysis of the Ten Commandments. It was a completely random justaposition. That's just where I happened to be. Calvin goes the same way. Anything is to be done rather than to set up a rival to God. As Calvin points out, everything we do is done in front of God's face, so setting something up in God's stead is like a wife cheating on her husband with him in the room.
Instead, Calvin encourages us to simply give God the credit for everything. His is a simple formula:
1. Adoration -- Recognize everything that God is, does, and had done. This includes obedience and submission of conscience because obviously, God being God, he's right.
2. Trust -- I like the way he phrased this one. "Trust, is secure resting in him under a recognition of his perfections, when, ascribing to him all power, wisdom, justice, goodness, and truth, we consider ourselves happy in having been brought into intercourse with him."
3. Invocation -- "the retaking of ourselves to his promised aid as the only resource in every case of need."
4. Thanksgiving -- because everything comes from Him, all of our gratitute goes to Him.
Calvin presents this formula with a "duh" sort of attitude that would have done his namesake credit. You can tell that the majesty of God and the following submission, trust, invocation, and thanksgiving, are all very obvious to Him. He understands that some people don't accept what he's saying, but that doesn't stop him relying on it. And yet his world was no less complicated than mine. Gosh, it was a good deal moreso. He had the reformation of a whole city, a whole continent, and the analysis and expression of the whole truth of the Word to worry about. I'm just trying to be a wife and mother. The winds of thought and whisper don't shake him; why do they wobble me?
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Reading Augustine.
I've started reading Augustine's City of God. Two things have struck me. One, what he says is pertinent for our attitudes even today. In his day, the pagan citizens of Rome were blaming Christianity for the fall of Roman prosperity and security. Today, "sophisticated" society blames religion for the world's ills. Augustine's reply was, in sum, "What have your gods ever given you but a bad example and the demand that you follow it?" Perhaps our reply should be, "What would you rather have direct men instead?"
Secondly, Augustine really hated the theatre. Of course, the theatres in Ancient Rome were instruments of adoration and emulation for the pagan gods, but Augustine places them above the games in a list of degradations. He seriously thought that the games (and people died in teh arenas) were less corrupting than the theatre. He spoke disparagingly of tragedies and comedies because they were only human stories, but he abominated the stories of the gods and approved of banishing poets, who took creative liberties with serious matters and perpetuated licentiousness in the population by telling the shameful stories of the gods, as suggested by Plato.
He really takes my breath away sometimes. He's not very reformed, if I may say it, at least not in the modern sense. He doesn't seem to believe in coopting something of this world to use if for Christ. Of course, he might have felt differently about mystery and morality plays if they had existed at that point.
Secondly, Augustine really hated the theatre. Of course, the theatres in Ancient Rome were instruments of adoration and emulation for the pagan gods, but Augustine places them above the games in a list of degradations. He seriously thought that the games (and people died in teh arenas) were less corrupting than the theatre. He spoke disparagingly of tragedies and comedies because they were only human stories, but he abominated the stories of the gods and approved of banishing poets, who took creative liberties with serious matters and perpetuated licentiousness in the population by telling the shameful stories of the gods, as suggested by Plato.
He really takes my breath away sometimes. He's not very reformed, if I may say it, at least not in the modern sense. He doesn't seem to believe in coopting something of this world to use if for Christ. Of course, he might have felt differently about mystery and morality plays if they had existed at that point.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Boogaloo at the Beach.
We decided to take advantage of the long weekend and the decent weather to take Boogaloo to Seaside, OR and let her get a taste of the beach. After a month of work and housework, we were pretty keen to get out of Hillsboro and do some exploring.
The first thing that we discovered is that Seaside is a little farther away than we expected. This charming picture was taken on the way there, not the way back as might be imagined.
Once we got there, we had a late lunch on the boardwalk. Boogaloo was more interested in the sights("Seagull, Mommy. Seagull, Daddy."), but she did actually look at the camera.
This is Boogaloo before Mommy foolishly coaxed her out into the tidal area.
This is Boogaloo after a roller surprised us both and took her off her feet. The terrified look on her face as she lay on her back in the surf was funnier, but really, if I had taken that picture, what kind of a mommy would I be? She was seriously scared that she would be swept away, and not even mommy's death grip on the front of her jacket reassured her. As soon as we got her on dry land, she looked at me with a pout and said, "Wet." Yep, that pretty much sums it up.
Daddy shows Boogaloo the seals at the Seaside Aquarium, one of the oldest aquariums on the West Coast. Unlike other aquariums, Seaside actually encourages you to buy fish and feed the seals.
Their seals are all bred in captivity, and they sit up and beg for treats. They can be quite insistent.
On the way back, we stopped at a roadside shop that boasted 18 types of jerky, including alligator and yak. We didn't buy alligator or yak, but we did get some wild boar ("made from the meat of a feral pig." appetizing!) and buffalo. Expensive, but good.
Confuscation
Have you ever watched something and watched it and watched it and thought, "Something's just not right"? That's how I've been feeling for the past week whenever I think about the latest Muppet movie. We've been looking forward to it for quite a while. We all love the Muppets, Boogaloo especially. She's been running around the house yelling "Frog on d'pay" from their football ad all week. But when we went to see the movie on Wednesday, something just wasn't right. Boogaloo enjoyed herself. She watched the whole movie raptly. She sang along with the theme song and ran down the aisle shouting "Muppet show, muppet show." (The theatre was pretty empty, and most of the chuckles were appreciative, so I didn't worry about it.). Seth and I weren't as satisfied. Seth looked at me over dinner and asked, "Is it bad that I thought the previews were funnier than the movie?"
I felt the same way, and it bugged me, bugged me to the point of keeping me up at night. Well, actually, I've been sleeping poorly lately, but while I was lying awake, I was analyzing The Muppets, and I think I've figured it out. It sends a conflicting message. The main idea is that the Muppets represent a return to innocence no longer represented by American entertainment or corporate interests. They need each other, and we need and want them. It says, "We want you to like us, but you're really a dork for doing so." Why else would they have their main proponents be such losers?
"Hey, wait a second," you say. "I've seen the movie, and I thought Gary and Walter were good guys." Yeah, sure, they're good guys, and their devotion to each other is touching, but it's the only outstanding or redeeming character about them. By the time they're adults, waking up in matching pajamas in the same bedroom, presumably in their parents' house, and marching down the street in matching pale blue leisure suits (not practical for the bus, I can tell you that!), I started to feel that something was amiss. Gary has to be at least twenty-eight, with Walter not far behind, and yet neither of them appear to have a job, a degree, or even a commercially useful skill. Gary has been dating his lovely, intelligent, employed (and unsatisfied) girlfriend for 10 years, and he doesn't even have a desire to separate that relationship from his relationship with his brother. I mean really, talk about failure to launch. It kind of proves the cynics right.
So I guess I never really bonded with the main characters. Kermit was the first person that made my heart leap, and by that point, I was already off. They had set up the wrong atmosphere: a pathetic atmosphere that begs us to like them out of pity, not on their obvious merits. They had apologized for something that wasn't readily evident, and that never helps solidify your case. It only makes people wonder what's wrong with you and doubt you more. By the time the wheels really started rolling, and the Muppets were doing their inimitable thing,they had already implied that you couldn't be a fully realized person and like what they do, and that was kind of insulting.
After all, I like the Muppets, and I like to think of myself as mature and responsible. I like to think I would have tried to save their theatre too. Furthermore, they've never fallen out of the spotlight. Are we really supposed to believe that the frog who taught us that "It's not easy being green," can't get an audience with any network executive he wants. And the Muppets may seem like good clean fun compared to some of our reality tv, but they're really not all that innocent. "The Muppet Show" was not a kids' show. They blew up cute little birdies and ballerinas. They had their go at great art. They had their go for women's lib and animal rights. The antics of Miss Piggy backstage (and Gonzo occasionally) were PG-rated at least. The Muppets were snide in all their silliness with a dose of hippie idealism and skepticism to mellow it out. They delighted to give you what you didn't expect, and there is a little bit of that in the movie, but by the time we see it, we've been set up to believe that it's not entertaining. So the whole time, we watch with conflicted feelings, half ashamed of liking the antics on the screen.
I felt the same way, and it bugged me, bugged me to the point of keeping me up at night. Well, actually, I've been sleeping poorly lately, but while I was lying awake, I was analyzing The Muppets, and I think I've figured it out. It sends a conflicting message. The main idea is that the Muppets represent a return to innocence no longer represented by American entertainment or corporate interests. They need each other, and we need and want them. It says, "We want you to like us, but you're really a dork for doing so." Why else would they have their main proponents be such losers?
"Hey, wait a second," you say. "I've seen the movie, and I thought Gary and Walter were good guys." Yeah, sure, they're good guys, and their devotion to each other is touching, but it's the only outstanding or redeeming character about them. By the time they're adults, waking up in matching pajamas in the same bedroom, presumably in their parents' house, and marching down the street in matching pale blue leisure suits (not practical for the bus, I can tell you that!), I started to feel that something was amiss. Gary has to be at least twenty-eight, with Walter not far behind, and yet neither of them appear to have a job, a degree, or even a commercially useful skill. Gary has been dating his lovely, intelligent, employed (and unsatisfied) girlfriend for 10 years, and he doesn't even have a desire to separate that relationship from his relationship with his brother. I mean really, talk about failure to launch. It kind of proves the cynics right.
So I guess I never really bonded with the main characters. Kermit was the first person that made my heart leap, and by that point, I was already off. They had set up the wrong atmosphere: a pathetic atmosphere that begs us to like them out of pity, not on their obvious merits. They had apologized for something that wasn't readily evident, and that never helps solidify your case. It only makes people wonder what's wrong with you and doubt you more. By the time the wheels really started rolling, and the Muppets were doing their inimitable thing,they had already implied that you couldn't be a fully realized person and like what they do, and that was kind of insulting.
After all, I like the Muppets, and I like to think of myself as mature and responsible. I like to think I would have tried to save their theatre too. Furthermore, they've never fallen out of the spotlight. Are we really supposed to believe that the frog who taught us that "It's not easy being green," can't get an audience with any network executive he wants. And the Muppets may seem like good clean fun compared to some of our reality tv, but they're really not all that innocent. "The Muppet Show" was not a kids' show. They blew up cute little birdies and ballerinas. They had their go at great art. They had their go for women's lib and animal rights. The antics of Miss Piggy backstage (and Gonzo occasionally) were PG-rated at least. The Muppets were snide in all their silliness with a dose of hippie idealism and skepticism to mellow it out. They delighted to give you what you didn't expect, and there is a little bit of that in the movie, but by the time we see it, we've been set up to believe that it's not entertaining. So the whole time, we watch with conflicted feelings, half ashamed of liking the antics on the screen.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
My husband should be a professional football analyst.
Turning from the Kardashians to a more wholesome controversy, my husband and I are Denver Broncos fans (he by choice and I by osmosis), and we have been eagerly following the development of Tim Tebow into an NFL quarterback. Following this "discussion" that's happening among sports commentators, I find it hard not to be in awe of my husband.
From the beginning, the commentators have all been split on the matter of Tim Tebow. He was a college phenomenon, a national championship winner, a Heisman trophy winner, and a celebrity before he hit the NFL. But he doesn't play typical football, and he's a hard match for professional offenses to work with. The Broncos have been faced with the challenge of changing their offense to match their quarterback instead of having a quarterback who steps into their offense. But he's winning.
I am a confessed Tebowist. (See Tebowist defined: http://espn.go.com/espn/page2/story/_/id/7250435/tim-tebow-inspires-dj-gallo-proclaim-tebowist) He's a Christian and he's outspokenly pro-life. I would cheer for him even if he didn't play for my husband's favorite team. If I didn't have a more objective football fan in the house, I would totally become one of those Tebow jersey buying, coach squabbling, "every knock against Tebow is a knock against evangelical Christians"-griping type of people. Of course, if I didn't have a more objective football fan in the house, I might not even know who Tim Tebow is, so take that for what it's worth.
So I asked my objective football fan what he thought of Tim Tebow when Tebow became the Broncos's starting QB, and he told me this:
"Love, a lot of people think football is just about the numbers. Tebow has something different. He's not an NFL level quarterback, but he has these intangibles that make him a winner. Now, you look at Kyle Orton. He is a good quarterback. He completes more passes in a game than Tebow does in three. But the Broncos weren't winning under Orton. They wouldn't get fired up under Orton. They get fired up under Tebow. That is an intangible, and it gets them victories. Is he a great player? No, but he inspires other players to greatness."
"Oh," I said, "kind of like George Washington." It's a recognised historical opinion that Washington was the charasmatic glue that held greater geniuses like Nathanael Green and Henry Knox together in a team. Seth holds to the opinion that Washington was brilliant in his own right, so he ignored this. Maybe he didn't hear me.
This past week, after a stunning victory over the Jets (you should listen to the commentators. They really are stunned.), Seth called me over to the computer and showed me a clip of the second-to-last play of the game. D. Thomas catches a long pass and delivers a tremendous stiff arm to his would-be-tackler. "That's the Tebow effect. The offense is rising to his enthusiasm.
"And the defense too. You know, the Broncos haven't really had a defense for the past few years, not since the Orange Crush, actually. It's just not something the Broncos are known for. But tonight, the defense totally rose to the challenge. They held Mark Sanchez, who is recognised as a good quarterback, to 13 points. That is Tebow's influence."
So I read a few articles and listen to the commentators after Thursday's game (Seth was playing them pretty non-stop Friday night.), and guess what they're saying. "You know, I'm starting to believe that Tebow can lead this team." "His intangibles really make the difference." "The defense knows that if they can hold the other team to a low score, somehow Tebow can do something special in the fourth quarter to win." "His team believes in him, and they go out there and make things happen."
And I thought, "These guys sound like my husband. Wow. I married a really smart guy. He ought to analyze football for a living."
From the beginning, the commentators have all been split on the matter of Tim Tebow. He was a college phenomenon, a national championship winner, a Heisman trophy winner, and a celebrity before he hit the NFL. But he doesn't play typical football, and he's a hard match for professional offenses to work with. The Broncos have been faced with the challenge of changing their offense to match their quarterback instead of having a quarterback who steps into their offense. But he's winning.
I am a confessed Tebowist. (See Tebowist defined: http://espn.go.com/espn/page2/story/_/id/7250435/tim-tebow-inspires-dj-gallo-proclaim-tebowist) He's a Christian and he's outspokenly pro-life. I would cheer for him even if he didn't play for my husband's favorite team. If I didn't have a more objective football fan in the house, I would totally become one of those Tebow jersey buying, coach squabbling, "every knock against Tebow is a knock against evangelical Christians"-griping type of people. Of course, if I didn't have a more objective football fan in the house, I might not even know who Tim Tebow is, so take that for what it's worth.
So I asked my objective football fan what he thought of Tim Tebow when Tebow became the Broncos's starting QB, and he told me this:
"Love, a lot of people think football is just about the numbers. Tebow has something different. He's not an NFL level quarterback, but he has these intangibles that make him a winner. Now, you look at Kyle Orton. He is a good quarterback. He completes more passes in a game than Tebow does in three. But the Broncos weren't winning under Orton. They wouldn't get fired up under Orton. They get fired up under Tebow. That is an intangible, and it gets them victories. Is he a great player? No, but he inspires other players to greatness."
"Oh," I said, "kind of like George Washington." It's a recognised historical opinion that Washington was the charasmatic glue that held greater geniuses like Nathanael Green and Henry Knox together in a team. Seth holds to the opinion that Washington was brilliant in his own right, so he ignored this. Maybe he didn't hear me.
This past week, after a stunning victory over the Jets (you should listen to the commentators. They really are stunned.), Seth called me over to the computer and showed me a clip of the second-to-last play of the game. D. Thomas catches a long pass and delivers a tremendous stiff arm to his would-be-tackler. "That's the Tebow effect. The offense is rising to his enthusiasm.
"And the defense too. You know, the Broncos haven't really had a defense for the past few years, not since the Orange Crush, actually. It's just not something the Broncos are known for. But tonight, the defense totally rose to the challenge. They held Mark Sanchez, who is recognised as a good quarterback, to 13 points. That is Tebow's influence."
So I read a few articles and listen to the commentators after Thursday's game (Seth was playing them pretty non-stop Friday night.), and guess what they're saying. "You know, I'm starting to believe that Tebow can lead this team." "His intangibles really make the difference." "The defense knows that if they can hold the other team to a low score, somehow Tebow can do something special in the fourth quarter to win." "His team believes in him, and they go out there and make things happen."
And I thought, "These guys sound like my husband. Wow. I married a really smart guy. He ought to analyze football for a living."
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