Under the Banner of Heaven: A Review that turned into a reflection

“Your just gotta have faith” is what the old George Michale song tells us. Faith has always been a positive value within society. Within religious communities persons whose faith is the strongest are venerated and looked to as an example. The community essentially has faith in the person’s faith, trusting all along that the venerated speak words of truth and wisdom and that their connections with God are authentic. But what happens when faith is perverted—when one’s belief becomes an unmovable force and the voice of “god” ostensibly whispers in their ear to commit atrocious, violent actions in "his" name.

John Krakauer’s Under the Banner of Heaven is a mesmerizing and tantalizing read. By putting Mormon Fundamentalism under the microscope Krakauer launches a full-blown exploration into the dark fanatical underbelly of religion. Krakauer uses the violent murder of a mother and her child committed by Dan Lafferty as a launch pad for his exploration. Lafferty, a member of a fundamentalist Mormon sect, still believes to this day, some 20 years since the incident, that he was d0ing gods bidding when he slit the throats of his own brother's wife and her baby daughter.

This is disconcerting to say the least, especially for one who holds to a christian belief system; a system that allows for one to communicate directly with God. As a Christian it is not uncommon for me to hear a fellow believer say something to the extent of "I feel that God is telling me to do this or do that." I too have used this line myself, I hope with sincerity, to justify my actions--but so did the zealot/murderer Dan Lafferty who, incidentally, is not insane.

I believe most assuredly that the voice Lafferty was listening to was not God, however, Lafferty would vehemently disagree. Yes, he subscribes to a cookey brand of fundamentalism that places him narcissisticly as a central figure in Christ's second coming, but the question still must be asked, How do we know we are listening to the voice of God? I feel like all the indicators for what is and is not the voice of God are entirely subjective. The Holy Spirit? Theology? Both these things can be tweaked by listeners and hearers alike to line up with the voice. Problematic? Yes. Do I have any answers? NO.

All I can offer myself at this juncture is that I have to have faith in faith. I must believe in belief. One bad apple does not ruin the bunch right?

Anyway, the book is a quick read and is definitely worth a looksey

My Attitude Sucks Today

Today Blows. My apathetic self is back--if it was a living thing I would shoot it after I slit its throat and spit in its face. But it is not, so I can't--I kowtow to that SOB inside me every time. Today I am a failure--maybe tomorrow I will be the victor. I feel better any how after typing the above. 

Oatmeal: Yes it is Good!

Lately I have been hooked on breakfast sandwiches made with egg, cheddar cheese and tomato on an english muffin, they are delicious but I have been looking for something else to add to my breakfast repetuare. I found what I was looking for in old school Quaker Oats. Now, as most of you may agree, oatmeal by itself is gross and reminds me of Oliver Twist and the phrase "Please Sir . . . I'd like some more" comes to mind right after I gag on bland mush. 

Linz and I have discovered that if you want to enjoy oatmeal you got to dress it up a little. Here are some of our recent creations. 

But first some standard operations:

Never Cook in Microwave--always on the stove top!

Put the oats in with the cold milk before you start heating. Doing this gives good texture with out the oatmeal getting to goopy. Also at this point it is standard procedure for me to add a few drops of vanilla extract. I feel this rounds out the flavor and their is also the added benefit of the pleasant aroma when cooking.

Banana Oats

After oats are done cooking add sliced bananas, slivered almonds, cranberries, and brown sugar. 

Apple Oats

Throw in diced apple with cold milk and oats

While heating add nutmeg and cranberries 

When done stir in brown sugar (not to much or you will drown out the apple) and garnish with a dash cinnamon. 

Give it a try and tell me what you think.

Light

Is it just me, or does everything taste better this time of year. Coffee tastes better, wine tastes better, cookies taste better, kisses from my wife (these always feel magical, but none the less they feel extra good), all of it. My theory is that Christmas is magical. Duh--we all know this right, and if you don't think it is magical anymore . . . well, then perhaps you're heart has shrunk. I believe that Christmas owes a lot of it's magical feel to lights. Lights are a big deal, for they stir within the human nervous system a hypersensitivity to everything our little synapses can handle. It is so fitting that light should lead the charge in holiday spirit. Fitting because Christ was light to the world. Light in literature is always symbolic with hope, rejuvenation and life. This is true outside the realm of literature, not just in film and art, but in real life too. Light brings clarity, perspective, and most important, life (ask anyone who suffers from seasonal depression). Christ is light and Christ is life. 

My dad, when talking of his life before he was a Christian, says that Christmas always housed, for him, an inordinate amount of hope. Hope for what I am not sure, perhaps just hope for hopes sake, but none the less there is this intrinsic quality about Christmas--even with all the commercialization. It is a season that is shot through with a magical air of light, life, and hope. 

I should also mention that yesterday I saw, right around mile 13 of my 18 mile rain run, a vary large Bald Eagle perched high up in a tree over the river trail. It was massive, and majestic--it was a Christmas miracle. 

Anne of Avonlea

Ever since I have become a dad weird things have moved me at odd times. Particularly scenes in film. I have always been a sap when it comes to cinema, a sap because I have the unique ability to buy into most films 100 percent. My father also shares this quality but to a much greater degree then even I. The film becomes all to real and for us the mark of a good film is one that we literally live for at least three days after viewing. Not that we go around pretending to be some character (though I may have done this after seeing my first Jim Cary movie) but the film and its images are burned so deeply in our minds eye that they flash and replay over and over again. I don't know about my father, but I often dream the film. Dramas usually have the greatest impact. Thrust upon me is a whole gamut of human emotion. When I was younger it was almost unbearable.

Forest Gump, for example, was one of these films. I saw it in the theater when I was ten and from the war scene on bawled my eyes out. When lieutenant Dan was cursing God during the storm I walked out. I had never heard anyone talk to God that way and to my naive eyes and ears this was utter blasphemy. I returned to the theater and finished the film. When the feather floats out of the book at the end I lost it. I sobbed and sobbed, heaved for air, and sobbed some more. I sobbed violently for an hour.  

Bridge To Terabithia is another film. Both Linz and I found ourselves on a plane from California to Connecticut blubbering like babies to the best in-flight movie of all time. 

And now, to Anne of Avonlea. I did not sob like I had in the past, but I was moved at an unlikely scene. Catching only the last 30 minutes, I saw the part when Anne befriends Katharine, a firm Liberian type woman with a very large stick shoved way up her tukis, an unpleasant character. When Anne invites her to her house for the holidays Katherine, realizing she is loved by someone, is freed from her staunch self. Anne had the power to see potential and did not let anyone get away with wasting life. I shed a single tear but was holding back a river. Weird. 

Weekend at Lake Almanor

Linz and I went down to Lake Almanor for Thanksgiving as the in-laws rented a house there for the weekend. It was great to be in the mountains on a holiday. Cold weather and a wood stove amp up the holiday spirit like few other things. I miss the cold and the smell of damp leaves on the ground--two things present in the mountains  but rarely found in Redding. Thanksgiving food has never really been my favorite food. I loath cranberry sauce and turkey is . . . well no matter how you dress it is kind of bland. My wife also makes this green bean casserole and I wish I could say how much I love it, but that would be a lie, a lie because I think it is, to put it politely, not so good. All her family loves it and it is a staple of the feast. I wish I did like it, honest!

Food aside, I like the way Linz family does Thanksgiving, everyone brings something to the meal and the feast is a group effort. Next year I will bring something to the meal and then the feast will be great for me too. 

To end on a good note, Mom Endeman makes these Alabama biscuits that are to die for. I had like six or seven smothered in butter and jam. 

Enjoy these pics from a great weekend

Oh yeah, Carter got Carsick on HW 36 and spewed bananas and carrots all over his little self. Apparently my driving blows chunks. 

Sweet 16 and I am Committed . . . we will see

I have been toying with the idea of doing the Redding Marathon. It is by no means a big marathon participant wise (only 107 people ran it last year), but the course looks great and the running community here is a fantastic bunch of people. The Sweat Running Club puts on great races and I would expect nothing less of the marathon. 

I tested the waters yesterday and ran 16 miles. I could not have made it if my good friend Ben didn't join me on the last 8 as he was a huge lift and a magnanimous encourager. I completed with fairly decent splits and only a 4 minute differential between my two sets of 8. My pace averaged  7:50 a mile. I would like to see that drop to a 7:30 which would put my finishing time for the marathon around 3 hours and 15 minutes.  I believe this to be an achievable goal but I would really be happy with anything under 3 hours and 30 minutes. I have not handed in my paper work for the race thus making me uncommitted at the moment . . . but we shall see. In all, great run. Being disciplined and testing the limits of my body has garnered minor, but significant transformations in my daily life. Having a baby makes you do crazy things. If Carter was not here I doubt I would be making such efforts. Speaking of Cater . . . 

Carter tells us about his day and explains to Linz and I why he has trouble sleeping though the night. In this photo Carter is in mid-lecture, "I gonna cry till you feed me. I got the stamina to do it and I think I proved that last night when I screamed for 60 minutes strait. You caved in the end as I suspected you would. You are weak and my lungs and desire for milk are strong. Frankly I don't care what What to Expect the First Year says I know what I want and I smart enough to get it. You see mom and dad, It is all in my master plan . . . And don't get so down, strength and perseverance are good qualities, you should be happy I got em."

Carter, the Christmas Baby, looks retrospectively at his sleep performance as of late before making the journey to the Kooy's house for some delicious ribs.
One more picture for you grandma GiGi!

French Press

Linz got me a French Press for my birthday a while back. Best gift ever! It creates the most amazing, silky, velvety, sensational coffee on the face of the planet and maybe even the entire universe. Angels visit me regularly and ask me for a cup. It pairs nicely with all the dark roasts from Sue's. So don't delay, go on and throw out those old, clunky, counter hogging machines and embrace this old style brewing as your way of the future. 

It is tremendous 

Could these pictures be any cooler? . . . I submit that they could not!

A comment about the weekend that ends in a huge comment/question about Salvation

Great Weekend. Though it is odd and somewhat disappointing that 80 degree weather strike the north-state mid November, I would be kidding myself if I said I haven't enjoyed this present Indian summer. I got several great runs in over the weekend in which my splits were low, solid and consistent. In these runs I was not intentionally trying to burn up asphalt, I think my cruising pace has just quickened and that is exciting for me. Everybody should run because it is seemingly absurd, and life is seemingly filled with absurdity. But the more you run, the less absurd it becomes--kind of like life. Running is a healer, an educator, and life clarifier. I think Jesus would have been a runner if he wasn't the savior.

But alas, to more important things--Linz is on this understanding Mormonism kick. We watched a PBS documentary and now she is reading Under the Banner of Heaven by John Krakauer, a book that is more about fundamentalism and religious extremism than Mormonism. But in all, we have had some interesting discussions. Let me preface this observation/comment/question by drawing your attention to a few facts. As of 2005, according to the World Christian Database, Christianity is the fifth fastest growing religion behind Islam, Bahai Faith, Sikhism and Hinduism. However, Krakauer claims in his book (copy-write 2003) "At present in the United States there are more Mormons that Presbyterians or Episcopalians. On the planet as a whole, there are now more Mormons that Jews. Mormonism is considered in some sober academic circles to be well on its way to becoming a major world religion--the first of such faith to emerge since Islam." All this to say that these religions of the world are overwhelmingly attractive to those seeking a devout spiritual life style. But Why?

Salvation in Christianity, as defined by Wikipedia, is a "gift that comes to an individual by God's grace, sometimes defined as "unmerited favor", on the basis of one's personal belief in and dependence on the substitutionary death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Salvation in this sense refers to God's activities in bringing humans into right relationship with God and with one another through faith in Jesus Christ." So their is nothing that we humans do but accept the gift. We do nothing, God gets the credit and we get eternal salvation in return. Pretty good deal right? One could say that salvation in other religions of the world is not dependent on God's grace, but rather is dependent on mans ability to do good works. Adherents to Islam follow a strict code of ritual and conduct to attain salvation. Mormons, though they say that their salvation is found in Christ further research reveals that eternal salvation is not granted on an individual level, but is dependent on the salvation of one's entire family. Salvation through works is a staple in every other religion. 

My question to you all is this: What is so appealing about shouldering the responsibility of one's own salvation. The fact that war and injustice riddle the world is a testament to mans imperfection. How could we think for a second that we have within us the ability to get it right by ourselves? Why is the free gift so hard to unwrap? 

Revolution and Propaganda

So, incase you haven't noticed Obama's face has been plastered everywhere. This alone does not concern me, prominent celebrity and political faces are seen all over the place. What concerns me is how Obama's face is being plastered.  But first, let me draw your attention to these eye catching images that I found on google. The one below is of the Russian Bolshevik leaders. It is painted on the side of a large building somewhere in Russia. Note the bold use of color and the commanding black and white contrast in their faces. Impressive, forbidding, and moving 

Next is this Russian propaganda poster of Lenin. I don't know the translation of the Russian, maybe Joel can tell us, but look at the simplicity, again the bold chiseled lines--Iconic!
This poster of Che shares similar attributes in the depiction of his face to those above. Simple, and easily recognizable. Again the use of chromatic negative-film type color (I am sure there is a professional pop art term to for this, if someone knows please tell me) 
What would be a line up of revolutionary posters without Mr. Castro of Cuba. Now, I am no pop art scholar or a history of revolutions guru, but I do have eyes and I did take several world history classes through out my academic career,
and what is pictured below, the face of our new president depicted in pop art, revolution fashion, is for me, a little freighting. It is my belief that this pop art poster is no naive accident. It bares to close a resemblance to its forerunners to be innocent "get out the vote" propaganda. I am not inferring in any way that Obama is the antichrist or that America is soon to become a socialist regime (as those ideas are unwarranted, outlandish fear based assumptions), but I just feel that we should be aware and critical of the sensationalism surrounding our new President.  
Note, just as in all the other propaganda posters, the pop art style and simplicity, the bold lines, the use of color. Why now at this juncture in American history? Just some observations, let me know what you think. 

Pee-eew Human Poo

Two things have happened since we started feeding Carter substances that resemble big kid food: he has found his boy parts; and second, his poop now wreaks like the underworld if everybody in the fourth circle of hell moved their bowls at the same time. To the non-parent these two developments are seemingly unrelated, but think for just a second. Babies wear diapers all the time. The only time their diapers are off is when they are in the bath or being changed. As a result, the only time Carter can explore his new found toy (his penis) is when we are changing his diaper, the very diaper that is filled with the stench of the underworld and some thick gooey man poop to match. The kicker is that because of the new food Carter only poops like every other day (do not fear, this is not uncommon as some babies will go a week) the result is an epic blowout that covers every inch of his size three Huggies, including his little nuts. Congratulations to me, my son now has poop all over his hands and their headed straight for his mouth! 

                            Carter plays the bongo at the Gerzyinskie's house on Halloween 
Peas are a staple in the new diet and a main culprit in the creation of foul oder 

Asserting my Authority

I am a fairly passive person, or rather, I am a very passive person who avoids confrontation at all costs. If I get a whiff of simmering trouble to come I take evasive, self protective measures which include the following: hinting at and alluding to problems rather than addressing them head on; kindly agreeing with whom I am speaking with even though I strongly disagree; and finally, I run away (I have never done this, but I could see myself doing it). Now, it should be noted that within the confines of the protective nest that is academia (which include in class discussions and other mediated group settings) I have been known to throw caution to the wind and state my opinions. But, when outside the nest or one-on-one with people I am a push over. Yeah, I will talk a big game behind their back, but when it's time to deliver my rebuke it takes all the courage I can muster for me to willingly create an awkward and unwanted conversation. In the rare instances when confrontation is unavoidable, as it often is when it pops up out of no where, I walk away from the incident discombobulated and shaking, which is similar to how one feels after a car crash. 

Over the years I have gotten better at asserting and maintaining my position, but winning arguments and successfully ending confrontation favorably for myself is something I have yet to accomplish. I owe my losses to one thing in particular--my inability to deliver quick witted, zinging, discussion ending comments. I am incapable of closing the deal, I just do not have the tenacity. 

Alas, there is a hope on the horizon.  As of late I have been substitute teaching for the Shasta Union High School district, where I am met with confrontation every day. 

"Mr. Tyler, can I go to the bathroom?" 

"No"

"What, are you serious?"

"You just had eight minutes of passing, you don't see me running out of the class room every period to go to the bathroom. Stay in your seat, do your work!" 

Every day I play the part of the bastard sub who follows the rules, and I enjoy it. Sure, sometimes I lapse into past people-pleasing ruts, but for the most part the daily adversity is making me a stronger person. Like yesterday, I gave out my first referral to a student which garnered an in-house suspension for the kid. It went something like this.

"Folks, this is SSR, silent sustained reading, I should not hear any talking"

The class hushes for a few seconds then resumes unnecessary cross-room banter

I raised the tone of my voice "Hey! I said no talking, the next person who talks will receive a referral!"

Kid in front row blurts "Are you serious, that's dumb"

"Try me, I guarantee you won't like the result," I shot back.

I look down at my book and hear an intentional disruptive noise, here I am stuck because I don't know who did it. 

"I herd that" I said, "I'm serious" 

Then it happened,

"blah blah blah," I can't even remember what the kid said, some dumb comment about how the class was gay no doubt, but the important thing is how I responded.

"Ding, Ding, congratulations! You got it, the referral, march yourself right up to that office, I'm calling to let them know you are on your way." 

I picked up the phone and dialed the office feeling not like I just walked away from a car crash, but rather a mild close call instead. Almost, one day, one day I will get it. 

W. I Think it's to Soon

Remember when that movie about 9/11 came out staring Nicholas Cage and every one said, "What? this is way to soon." Well if you don't remember, 9/11 happened in 2001 and this movie, the one entitled World Trade Center, was released in 2006. That is five years after the incident. Jump to present, where good old George W is still in office, yeah he is on his way out, but he really doesn't leave till January. The poor guy is not even out of the White House and a movie is released that passes judgement on him and his two terms spent as president. Oliver Stone, who incidentally directed World Trade Center, is also the director of W. Now, it should be said that I have not yet seen the film, but COME ON! does it not seem ridiculous that this film is out already? I am aware that the man was no Abraham Lincoln, but I think that it is safe to say that the proverbial dust that he has created, be it positive or negative, has not even begun to settle. How his time spent in office will effect the future of the U.S. has yet to be determined, as we must live it first before a final judgment can be passed.  To soon, to soon

   

The First Supper

For the past month or so Linz has been dying to feed carter something other than special milk from those special places. We let him suck on pieces of watermelon and cantaloupe fairly early. This may have been a mistake because ever since he has tasted these delicacies he has been really into food. If we are eating he is watching us eat, staring longingly at our steaming plates with a look that says "Whats the deal pops, hook me up with some of that delicious big kid grub." If only we could.

But alas, there is a science to feeding a five month old, a needed progression of carefully thought out substances.  As the critically acclaimed book What to Expect the First Year states, "Before the gastronomic world can be a baby's oyster (or filet or lasagna) the land of bland must be conquered" And boy is it bland. We start Carter out on single grain rice cereal with Vitablocks (a nutrient blend for Baby's growth and development--hooray!) This stuff looks and tastes like cream of wheat without the flavor. "But Scott" you say, "cream of wheat has no flavor to begin with" exactly! Now imagine cream of wheat without those extra grains and that is precisely how bland Single grain rice cereal is. 

Carter: "Oh boy, my first bite of real food, yippee!"

Mom: "Well I would not call this real food Carter, but it's where we gotta start, you are so cute right now--- are you ready, hear we go"

Carter: "Alright, not to bad, sweet on the front end. Subtitle, mellow, ahhgg what is this . . . this texture . . . what the . . . "
Carter: "Blaaahh! What a let down. Oharggag bu bub bu yucky-- I'm not sure I can take it any more"

Mom: "Oh honey, aren't those Vitablocks so yummy. You want some more? I think you d0! Scott, are you taking pictures?"

Dad: "Yes tons"

Mom: "now take a video, make sure you get a video!"

Dad:"I got it, I got it. I'm totally gonna post this on my blog"
Carter: "Yah I'll give it another shot, maybe this time it will taste better. After all you guys look like you enjoy your food . . . uhh man, Is this an acquired taste?"

Needless to say, feeding Carter the first time was tons of fun. Liz and I were nearly rolling on the floor. If you don't have a kid go out and get one today as they are so fun!

I am in the Club

the sick club that is--Freaking Awesome. Compounded by the fact that I was out of town this past weekend doing some electrical work in the San Jose area. In all it was a great trip and I made some good money, but it was not fun being away from Carter and Linz for four nights. Linz would put the phone up to Carter's ear so I could talk to him. She said his eyes would light up and he would look around for me (he doesn't get the concept of a phone yet). I got in late last night, so this morning was the fist time he saw me. I picked him up out of bed to change him, he looked up and I watched his mind register the fact that it was me. He smiled really big as his whole body gesticulated in baby excitement. It was like he was saying "Dad, your home, I really missed you!" 

Real Baby Toys

Carter is five months old now. Every day he does something new and amazing, not like multiple flips or juggling fire, but amazing baby stuff like exploring his world, rolling over, putting everything in his mouth, and belly laughing at our funny faces and noises. In all, he is more of a little person than he was three months ago, not that he was never a person or anything but you know . . . he's no longer a pooping blob,  he is a smiling, laughing, pooping person.

What I have noticed is that babies are smart. Carter knows that his toys are fundamentally different from the stuff that I interact with such as food, magazines, food, cell phones and food. Carter will play with his colorful, noisemaking, specialized baby toys for maybe five minutes before he gets board. But, give him a "real" object and the kid is entertained for a solid ten minutes. The following is a  photo documentary of specific "real" object interactions:

First My Tie--10 minutes of play time:

Then latter that same day my watch:

And finally, with the In and Out bag, of which he was really jazzed about. He was throwing that thing around like crazy and then would suck the fry grease of his hands. It was awesome. Linz and I were rolling on ground with laughter. Carter was in real toy heaven!

I think I am going to start a company that manufactures toys for babies. I would just take real objects and sanitize them and then sell them. 

I going out of town for a few days to work. I am really going to miss the little guy. 

Bad Bailout

I think it is safe to say that I am not alone when it comes to being confused about the current economic climate. How the passing of the bailout bill directly effects the stock market's rise and fall is beyond me. However, I do know that it does not directly effect me either. I believe that whatever those crazed lunatics in Washington decide to do has no effect on my economic standing. The only person that is responsible for that is me--the government does not exist to put Band-Aids on my boo boos--having the opportunity to make my own decisions and take responsibility for my own life is what makes America so great. If I manage my money correctly, without greed, and think before I invest I should be OK. Regardless I am the one who pulls the trigger, not the government.   To believe that Washington can do something for you, that they will take care of you, is one of the most dangerous myths you can buy into, because the moment you believe that horse poo you begin a debilitating downward slide into the land of identity-stealing fear. The media wants you to be frightened--don't be! For more on this check out this amazing article by Dave Ramsey, it will make you smile.

A final unrelated thought: debt is bad right? So why then is the government using debt to fix debt? That is fundamentally retarded--come on. This country is not in a credit crisis, it is in a debt crisis. This is part of a cyclical market and we are in a purging cycle. Anyone who can't hang on should fall off. Do you agree, or am I totally off my rocker.

Jogging, I believe the j is silent though, right?

 

So as of late, I have endeavored on what many would consider an absurd pastime, running. It probably has something to do with the olympics this year, and also my need as a new father to establish a lasting habit that will usher me into manhood. My belief is that if I have the discipline to push myself though miles of trails and pavement than I will have the discipline to be a better father and a better husband. 

Further, I recently realized that at the tender age of 23 I am now entering the prime of my life--mature enough to think responsibly (or at least I hope), and young enough to demand massive amounts of energy from my body. I thought, why waste such an extraordinary period in my life? I've got old personal records from high school to shatter and bigger and better goals to achieve.

The last reason was an as assistant coaching position. A good friend of mine is the head coach of the Simpson University Cross-Country team. Knowing I ran on a championship team in high school (and were we champions! read the second paragraph in this wikipedia article) I was offered the job and took it. I never thought I would enjoy making runners puke so much. Watching people achieve their goals and push their body to the limits is one of the most exhilarating things I have ever been a part of. To be precise, it comes in a distant third behind the birth of my son and my wedding day.