ThomStratton.com

There is a writer I’ve come to know over the past few years, and thought him to be a good guy. I even liked the novel of his I read, though I haven’t gotten around to reading more yet. But whenever he speaks at conference and other writing-related forums he’s always full of good advice and thoughtful input.

Then I found his blog. To say we don’t see eye to eye on how the world works would be an understatement. I keep hoping against hope we’ll find sufficient common ground, but it just doesn’t happen. He clearly despises most of what I believe in, and feels obligated to remind me of it regularly. As much as I try to be open-minded–I do like his writing, after all, and didn’t pick up on any of this underlying frothing there–I find it coloring my perceptions of his work as well. I’m not sure I can bring myself to read another of his books. Being despised does that to me, and I’m not big enough to rise above it.

I’m not saying he shouldn’t blog. Quite the contrary. He should be allowed to speak his mind as much as he likes. But my experience being on the receiving end of that makes me question what I’m doing. I’m not an author of note by any means, but I’d like to be some day. I like to think that eventually thomstratton.com will be getting regular visits from scores of people who enjoy my novels.

What do I want them to find when they get here?

Do I want them to be turned off by my politics? For some it wouldn’t take much, I grant. The merest whiff of my beliefs would be sufficient for them to vow never to read my books again, and perhaps even start slamming Amazon with negative reviews. I can’t say I’d miss them. But is there enough on my blog to turn off even the fair-minded? Do I write about other things often enough that they don’t feel like I’m punching them in the face with my politics at every opportunity? Hard to say. Offense is in the eye of the beholder.

I know another author who is very, very careful about his “branding”. The only stand he takes on his blog is to defend the type of stories he writes (and it’s sad that an author has to defend not writing “dark and gritty, anti-hero stories”). You’d really have to dig to get even the slightest clue as to his politics. I’m not sure I could be that guy, either.

In some ways I suppose my difficulty with the first author is because it’s such a contrast. In some ways I think it borders on hypocrisy. The number of his books in the local libraries suggests the local culture is much more tolerant and supportive of him than he is of it. But had I had some inkling of his political vehemence prior to encountering his website perhaps I wouldn’t have been as turned off. His image at conferences is one thing. His image on his site is another. The dissonance is jarring.

On the other hand, if I were to meet the latter author in person and find him very opinionated and vocal, perhaps I might experience the same difficulty. Or I might find that he is consistent across the board. It could be that this author is just not that opinionated.

I guess I have to just hope there is a happy medium in there somewhere. I don’t think I can not write about what matters to me. But hopefully I can do so infrequently and/or with enough modesty that those who disagree with me can at least respect me and not feel threatened or insulted. And hopefully I can find enough other things to write about that people can forgive the occasional rant. If my blog ever becomes “all rant, all the time” I hope someone takes me aside and smacks me around (and I’m sure I’d have no problem finding volunteers, even now).

But I still find myself frequently wondering: If I make it big all of a sudden, would I be tempted to go back through my blog files and do some heavy weeding?

I accidentally left my mp3 player home today. Suddenly I’m aware of just how much I rely on it. Music, besides providing some ambient sound, is my caffeine, my mood enhancer, my brain cleanser.

Today I needed it to be my caffeine. I’m really sleepy this morning–I blame the cat that decided it needed to throw up at 4:55 am, depriving me of those precious 25 minutes of solid sleep before I had to wake up. Now I have little alternative but to hit the munchies in our department admin’s office. Chewing on something helps keep me awake, too, but in addition to threatening my efforts to drop a few pounds, it’ll likely trigger my time release niacin and make me flush.

First World problems, I know. It’s not as if I’m camped out atop a mountain in northern Iraq waiting to see if I die from starvation or torture. The greatest threat to my country, according to my president, is the opposition party.

Perhaps we both could use a little perspective.

A Facebook friend of mine regularly laments how society is continually critical of women who don’t fit the ideals of appearance, weight, fashion, etc. At the same time, this same friend’s posts of late have increasingly employed profanity and vulgarity, and have glorified sex.

Now, I admit that I’m one of those “prudes” whose outdated sense of morality still leads me to believe that sex should be private and respectful, and that there is never a need for profanity. And yes, I do think less of those who disagree, because both demonstrate a lack of self control, no consideration for others, and a slide toward the animal rather than elevation of the species. I think we can and should be more than animals.

But that’s beside the point. As a society we can’t seem to make up our mind about society. Is society good or bad? Does it bestow moral authority, or undermine it? Does it define standards of acceptability or is it impossible to satisfy?

We can’t have it both ways. The “wisdom of crowds” must be valid or not valid, we can’t pick and choose when to place our faith in society. After all, the same society that tells us it’s okay–no, expected–to have sex as often as possible with as many people as possible with no thought for consequences (unless we actually do experience some, at which point we will bend heaven and earth and the Federal Government to eliminate those consequences as much as is possible (unless you’re a straight male, then you’re on your own)), also tells us that women have to be skinny, blond, and dress in designer clothing that shows as much skin as possible, and must be mocked if they don’t measure up. It’s also the same society that tells us a woman who terminates her pregnancy is to be applauded, but a woman who chooses to have a baby and stay home to raise it is a horrible disappointment and a traitor to her gender.

We’re expected to believe that the same society that gets it so wrong when it comes to women’s body image is right beyond question when it comes to sexuality?

Excuse me, but I have a hard time accepting that. Society tells us that sex is a biological need right up there with–if not exceeding–food. If you’re not having sex every night there is something wrong with you, and it’s okay to ignore all other aspects of your life in the pursuit of meeting that need. Granted, in marketing at least, they’re also telling us the same thing about food. The difference is that society believes it is acceptable to ban or limit the amount of unhealthy food you may consume–to make your dietary choices for you–while even suggesting that we should limit or be responsible in our sexual choices is heresy. Expecting the public to pay for diet programs and all the medical expenses resulting from unhealthy eating is going too far, but making everyone pay for others’ birth control and abortions is “the right thing to do.”

Here’s a news flash: Sex is not mandatory. It is not essential for life. It can actually be detrimental to your health. It is designed for, and therefore leads to, achieving pregnancy. Society is not only wrong about sex, they’re irresponsible.

I can only imagine what we would be seeing out there if Russian Roulette was considered pleasurable.

Even I, prude that I am, accept that society is not about to change its views on sex. If the AIDS scare didn’t do that, nothing will. But is it too much to ask that if we must worship sex, that we do so respectfully? It’s as if, having thrown the government out of our bedrooms, we moved the party to the front yard. I cringe to see my aforementioned friend posting about sex–not just because it’s about sex, but because it is describing it in horridly vulgar terms. This same person who wants women to be respected and not judged, turns around and uses language that sends the message that, when it comes to sex, it’s okay to treat her like a piece of meat and describe the experience in vulgar, disrespectful language for everyone to see.

I could never describe intimacy with someone I care about in such a way. In fact, I don’t believe in discussing it with anyone else, period. Yes, I know, I’m a prude. But I’m a respectful prude, and I try to be unselfish. When I encounter euphemisms for semi-violent, lustful sex I can’t help but wonder if there’s even another person involved. No matter what the original intention of the post might have been–in one recent case it was to insinuate that quiet, tender affection is a good thing–it quickly becomes all about Me Me Me when the euphemisms and vulgarity fly. The supposedly loved and respected partner disappears or becomes no more than an object, and sex becomes a sport for self-gratification, with the other person merely equipment.

For all of society’s new-found openness about sex, all they really seem to have accomplished is to establish the baseline at the junior high school locker room. Losing our inhibitions over sex has not elevated mankind, it’s stuck us permanently in the “nudge-nudge-snicker-hey-look-at-this!” of adolescence. It’s not really progressed us very far in the direction of more frank, open discussions about sexuality, gender roles, and societal expectation, but it’s certainly broadened our vocabulary of crass, profane, and vulgar descriptions of what is supposed to be the pinnacle of human experience. In what world does this make sense? We don’t accelerate our progress toward the next plateau of human development by racing one another deeper into the gutter.

But while society may be wrong, it’s also clear that society just doesn’t care. Yet we continue onward, day by day, acting as if society is the highest authority on all human behavior when in reality everything society wants should be immediately suspect. Society wants us all to be more tolerant and loving, and yet society is neither. Society wants us to eliminate hate, but absolutely hates anyone it sees as hateful or aberrant. Society thinks we should take better care of the planet, but society is also harrassing my children because they don’t have the latest, greatest smartphones, iPads, and laptops (sending last month’s models to the landfill). Society wants my children to be highly educated, motivated, and socially conscious, and yet they’re picked on because they aren’t wasting hours a day on the latest fad game.

In short, I don’t trust society to be right about…well, pretty much anything. Even when society, broken-clock-like, gets it right about what the goal is, they often fail so miserably in devising the means to that end that it would have been better had they not tried in the first place.

So to my friend I would say this: You’ve already picked up on the idea that society is terribly wrong about some things. Take a more careful look at everything else society is telling you. Chances are it’s wrong about many other things, as well. You are right to suspect that society is not your friend. Question. Compare. Question some more. Chances are, when someone is telling you to trust society, they’re trying to sell you something. And chances are you shouldn’t be buying.

A friend of mine recently posted a link to an article about how historians are trying to rework the curriculum to catch up with the times, so to speak. This is causing a great deal of concern and criticism by those who disagree with some of the events being removed to make room for more current events.

A friend of my friend, however, commented to criticize the critics, stating in essence that it’s a sad thing that people with only cursory history education feel they can question or criticize those who have made history their profession.

While he does have a point, for the most part I feel he entirely misses the real point here. It’s not that people are arguing with experts over history (never mind historians frequently disagree with one another amongst themselves), it’s that people disagree with the public policy being advanced by these historians. Most lay men will not argue with historians. I don’t think anyone is saying, “Hey, I don’t think Vietnam happened.” Where the disagreement lays, I suspect, is in what aspects of our history are important to who we are and who we aspire to be as a country, and which are not.

Or, to put it more succinctly, one man’s history is another man’s propaganda.

When it comes to knowing and understanding history I’m quite certain I would trust a historian over my own memory. But when it comes to measuring the effect of the teaching of history on the public psyche and its ultimate influence on culture I’m not so sure that historians know any more than I do. More importantly, I can’t be certain they would want the same effect that I do. Historians, like any other profession, do not exist in a vacuum. They are as susceptible to differening perspectives coloring their views as anyone else.

In short, while the facts are the facts, which facts you reveal and which you conceal will influence someone’s perception of what those facts mean. I doubt any historian would disagree with me. Few historians have the benefit of working with a complete set of facts, even in modern history, and it only gets worse the farther back you go. Deducing entire historical accounts from a few pot shards and re-re-re-retranslated records from a single perspective is risky work.

But of course the problem of when to accept authority and when to question it is hardly limited to history. Pretty much every field of endeavor is open to the same problem. At what point does a person’s expertise in a field give them license to set policy that impacts so many other areas without any questions or criticism by those whose knowledge is less complete? Should we seriously consider putting Stephen Hawking, for example, in charge of the VA? Or even NASA? Sure, why not? But should we be expected to put him in charge and then never question or criticize his actions simply because he is one of the most brilliant physicists in the world?

I don’t think so. I don’t care who you are, or how smart you are, or how many degrees you have. If you are in a position of setting public policy or policy that impacts taxpayer funding you should never be above question or criticism. And, frankly, no one can be so brilliant or experienced as to be infallible in setting policy that they should be equally considered the unquestioned authority in every single area that policy can impact.

Never mind the fact that the country is continually divided on which direction we should be trying to go. Your policy can be entirely sound and somehow consider every possible consequence, but nearly half the country can still be expected to question whether that really is the direction we want to be heading. And they have every right to question.

No one is questioning whether historians know history better than the average person. What people are rightfully questioning is whether their interpretation of what aspects of history are most important and should be taught to our children. That’s a different matter entirely.

Or, too reframe my friend’s friend’s argument a different way, theologians know more about religion than most any of us. By his thinking we should not question when they insist that the curriculum include the teaching of Creationism and daily prayer. They’re the experts. Who are we to question?

Au contraire. America is a democracy. We have a right to vote our own mind, not cede our voice to so-called experts. We have a right to question, and question anyone. One could even say we have a duty to question. Anyone who would lead us, but whose ideas cannot bear question or criticism, is not fit to lead. Anyone who believes their ideas should be imposed on the whole, yet should not have to take the time to explain their reasoning and be cross-examined, does not believe in democracy.

If you’re going to set policy, be prepared to be questioned. Period. To insist that anyone with power over others should be above question is naive, even dangerous. Let the experts recommend, but let us all question.

Next week marks the third anniversary of our move to Sandy from Boise.

Time is a strange thing; it’s relative, warped by our own perceptions. The time we’ve lived here seems both incredibly short and incredibly long. It’s short because, well, three years isn’t that long compared to my lifespan thus far, or the time period in which we’ve had kids. We’ve had every one of our current pets longer than that.

But it’s long, also, because of everything we’ve packed into that time. Multiple school years, summer vacations, sports practices and games, scout meetings, volunteer work, hikes, yard projects, visitors, church assignments, work projects, family reunions, and a myriad of other events and activities that seem to far exceed the time in which we crammed them.

It’s also been a time of significant change within our family. Our daughter has entered teenager-dom, and the older son is knocking on the door. We’ve gone from having three kids in elementary school to two in middle school. All three kids have matured considerably–three years at their ages is a considerable leap in maturity and size. They’ve all encountered opportunities that have helped them define who they are. It’s been amazing to watch the transformation.

I recall observing in past reminiscences that while my family seems to have found their place here I still felt detached. In some ways that remains true. I still have no close friends here. Thanks to technology I’m able to have even more fun with my close friends in Boise, and while I’m not at all complaining, I do wonder if that makes it easier to not make friends here. Why go out and seek what you do not lack? Especially when I’m finding my children are increasingly becoming my good friends.

But I do think I feel more settled. I belong here, even if I’m still not entirely comfortable with it. I know that sounds contradictory, but settled doesn’t necessarily mean comfortable. If nothing else, I have a hard time being comfortable simply because, no matter what I’m doing, I tend to feel like there’s something else I’m forgetting, that’s being neglected, or could be a better use of time. I’m not to the point of feeling like butter spread over too much bread like old Bilbo Baggins, but I’m often aware that every choice I make with my time comes at the cost of something else. I had time aplenty when I was young. That particular well is no longer infinite–it never was, but it’s finite-ness is becoming harder to ignore.

Don’t get me wrong; I like my life. I think things are going quite well much of the time. I have little to really complain about, and much to be grateful for. It’s said that the unexamined life is not worth living. If so, then these little introspective posts are a small price to pay for a life that is very much worth living.

I’m multi-tasking to write this post. It’s actually the night before this gets posted, and I’m working from home, waiting for a multi-step process to get to my step so I can “work my magic” and tell everyone everything went fine. But while I’m waiting, I’ll write a quick post.

It’s raining tonight. I’m usually happy to see rain–comes from living in the high deserts in the Rocky Mountain rainshadows for most of my life,  I suppose. But it was a long, hot, dry July, and a good gully-washer is especially welcome just now. While I was sitting here my wife and youngest came home from his tennis lesson and declared a storm was coming and everyone had better get out there fast if they still wanted to get in a bike-ride tonight. So my wife and the older two kids (the youngest is strongly anti-bike) took off to try and beat the storm.

They failed. The looked a little drowned when they got back.

But now we’re all safe and sound inside listening to the rain fall, the raingutter downspouts gurgling, and the thunder rumbling. It’s a fine moment, to be sure.

Since it’s plum season, we’ve got a plum crisp waiting for just before bedtime, and my wife experimented with plum preserves today. She gave me a sample. I’m quickly becoming a plum fan–which is fortunate, considering we’ve now had a plum pie, plum crisp, and a batch of plum preserves and only wiped out a third of what I picked on Saturday. There’s still about that same amount still on the tree, too. Perhaps within another week or two we’ll be “plum tired of plums.”

Oh, I crack myself up.

And I bore you spitless with my sentimental stream of consciousness, no doubt. But it’s only fair. I’m bored sitting here waiting for databases to get backed up and scripts to run. But if I’m lucky I’ll get to walk with my dog and my sweetheart in the fresh-soaked neighborhood later on. This is a somewhat mature neighborhood with lots of trees and grass. It’s going to smell pretty darn good.

Good night, everyone. Catch you on the flip-side.

I want to post. I really do! But everything I want to say takes time to write–time I just don’t seem to have right now. Okay, I’ll amend that. It takes time I’m not willing to give up for it right now. When I do have free time I’d rather spend it with my family. My kids are on final approach to a new school year, and they’d like to have some family fun before “the end cometh.” And what time I don’t spend with them I’ve got far too many other things lining up for attention. I haven’t even written on my novel in a week and a half. Work is taking up my lunch hours and a considerable chunk of my weekends lately.

I want to post. But it might not be for a while yet.

There’s a robot attempting to hitchhike its way across Canada.

Professors at McMaster University and Ryerson University developed HitchBot as a collaborative art project. “Usually, we are concerned whether we can trust robots,” they said in a statement. “But this project takes it the other way and asks: Can robots trust human beings?”

I suspect it’ll make it because it’s so novel. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be surprised if the publicity this is getting will come back to bite them in the long run. I wouldn’t be surprised if HitchBot sees South America long before it sees British Columbia.

I’m as cynical as the next guy over corporate-speak, and have done my share of mocking the concept of “We don’t have problems, we have opportunities.” But that’s largely because in most cases I’ve ever heard that phrase used it’s without any further explanation, as if it’s self-evident, and with no actual change in corporate culture to indicate the phrase means anything at all.

But when put this way, it’s actually hard to by cynical.

Everything was riding on that robot. When the test bombed, I was devastated. But while I moped about, Eric immediately started looking for solutions. He pulled the brushless motors off. “Must be a short here somewhere,” he said. He was right—and he went on to develop a new process for waterproofing the motors. That was good engineering, but for me the breakthrough was Eric’s approach to the situation. Where I saw defeat, he saw a chance to learn something new.

The fact that there is a problem doesn’t mitigate or magically transform the fact that you indeed have a problem that causes other problems. But there is also a chance to learn, to innovate, to move things in a better direction. If I were to reword the catch-phrase to be a little more meaningful and less trite (note I’m not saying “make it cynicism-proof”), I’d change it to say, “Yes, we have a problem, but we also have an opportunity.”

Looking back, many problems in my life have also provided opportunities that led to something better because I learned something from overcoming the problem. That didn’t make the problem any more fun to deal with at the time, but in the long term many of those problems fade in comparison to the benefits that came from learning to solve that problem.

Don’t get me wrong–I hate problems. I’d rather get things right the first time. But if there must be problems, I may as well learn from them.