Monday, May 30, 2016

X-men: Apocalypse


X-men: Apocalypse is the latest in a long line of X-men offerings, but the third in the 'First Class' series, following First Class and Days of Future Past.  Set ten years after the latter, an ancient being- one who can transfer his essence to others to both live forever and absorb their mutant powers- is roused from his millenia-long slumber in Egypt.  Taking in the modern world, he sees nothing but weakness, and wants to restore the Earth to the rule of the strong.  As he's done in the past, he recruits four 'horsemen' to protect and aid him as he seeks domination.  As this being- called Apocalypse- begins reshaping the planet, the X-men may be the only ones who can stand in his way.  But is this powerful foe too great even for them?

This was a good movie.  The humor was pretty good, and (of course) action superb.  But the real value is in the message: it explored the idea of power and its purpose.  Characters on both sides of the conflict have power, and both want a better world.  Apocalypse sees power as a means to dominate, and strengthen the Earth through elimination of the weak.  Professor X, on the other hand, sees those gifted with power in a very different light- they should protect those without, and work with the weak to bring the world to its potential . . . together.  Meanwhile, man's illusion of strength is shattered, as we're rendered helpless when our weapons are easily nullified by those stronger than we.  Man will have no hand in this battle- the strong will decide our fate; may those with mercy win.

Certainly worthy of contemplation, I enjoyed this exploration of power.  In this vein, we also see mutants struggling to harness and understand their power.  Some messages in the film may be suspect- when one mutant tells another to 'unleash their power' and show no restraint, it could be interpreted as "being who you are" and accepting your gifts (which is good) . . . or using your gifts without thought to consequences (which is bad), so there's a line there that needs to be drawn.  Overall, this is a strong offering.

Rating: A-



Saturday, May 28, 2016

From Homer to Harry Potter (Dickerson & O'Hara)


For years, I've loved fantasy and disliked science fiction- and I had no idea why until I read From Homer to Harry Potter.  Here, the authors first define myth, and then provide a guide to fantasy literature, suggesting a few principles for how to approach the genre (in the form of questions to ask to get at messages and underlying worldviews communicated in the medium). They look at pervasive themes and common influences (like the Bible, Greek & Roman mythology, and JRR Tolkien).  They conclude by discussing elements of myth found in individual works (like the Bible, Iliad, Odyssey, Beowulf, Grimm's Fairy Tales, etc.) and from selected authors (to include JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis, Ursula Le Guin, Philip Pullman, Walter Wangerin Jr., and JK Rowling).

So what is myth?

The authors define the genre by incorporating a quote from JRR Tolkien:
The literature of Faƫrie is any literature that presents these three faces:"The mystical toward the supernatural; the magical toward nature; and the mirror of scorn and pity toward man."
It covers a spectrum, from myth (global, over years or eons, significant in scope), to fantasy/heroic romance (like King Arthur), to fairy tale (local, over a few hours or days, more localized in scope).  Said another way, "the myths are about the gods; heroic fantasy is about heroes (larger than life, but not gods); while fairy tales are about the simpleton, the tailor, the younger brother, the good-hearted and virtuous peasant who accomplishes some great task despite a lack of heroic strength."

This genre takes place 'at the borders'- in both our world and another.  TS Eliot, speaking about Charles Williams' fantasy writings, speaks for the style when he says that in fantasy, there is "no frontier between the material and the spiritual world . . . the supernatural was perfectly natural, and the natural was also supernatural."  It covers "events on the border between the celestial and the mundane."  Contrast this with science fiction, which tends to focus more on the naturalistic.

In modern times, we view myth as being 'fiction.'  The authors disagree, arguing that "myth and history are not at odds, nor are myth and truth."  So, for example, when they talk about elements of the Bible being myth, they don't necessarily mean fiction- though "even a fictionalized account can communicate truth"- they mean that the Bible tells the story of God and man, the supernatural and the natural.

How did it come about?

For 'recent' fantasy (the past 150 years), the authors contend that "the nineteenth-century romantic movement that brought about the resurgence of fairy tale was in many ways a response to (or reaction against) the Enlightenment . . . it succeeded, in part, on the notion that there are things that must be known through the imagination and not merely through deductive arguments or empirical science."

They aren't saying that science is wrong or bad . . . just that it cannot account for everything:
... while Enlightenment rationalism denied the epistemological importance of imagination and fantasy, imagination and fantasy do not deny the validity of the rational or scientific; they only deny that these are the only ways of knowing.
This isn't a new concept.  The origin of the word myth communicates the same: muthos (the original root) means "through story," while logos means "through reason or proposition."  In ancient times, both were considered necessary.

Why is it so valued?

Because we need wisdom, and storytelling is an effective way to communicate that.  "Fairy tales are a repository of wisdom, though not necessarily of knowledge.  And while science and rational inquiry are wonderful tools for the acquisition of knowledge, on their own they provide little in the way of wisdom.  But knowledge without wisdom is not only bankrupt; it is dangerous."  Therefore, "myth and fantasy and rich and important elements in our literary lives and moral imaginations, and offer profound insights into truth."

The hope or intended aim isn't just wisdom- it's about being aware and awake to the world.  CS Lewis said the making of myth "produces works which give us . . . much delight and . . . much wisdom and strength . . . and in general shocks us more fully awake than we are for most of our lives."  As fantasy deals with the natural and supernatural, "we are reminded that the world is shot through with significance, that we ourselves are significant, no matter who we are."  In brings us into the whole- the individual and the global together.  "Myth, at its best, is both a distant view into the whole and a close mirror of the personal."

Thoughts

I really liked most of this book, because it helped me understand and articulate (as I explain above) why I so enjoy this genre.  It gave me a different perspective on how to view knowledge, wisdom, and the value of storytelling.  In addition, I learned that sometimes tales have no explicit message.  "The message, we might say, is the story itself."  It's about showing something rather than saying something.  That's helpful to me, as I often focus on words or obvious symbolism when consuming books or movies.  I'll try to adjust my thinking in the future.  I found the discussion on topics like monsters and magic helpful (their argument for the latter: it's not inherently bad, as some Christians believe, to have magic in books.  It's all about the intent, how it's used, where it comes from, etc.).

I said I liked most of this book.  The section critiquing different authors (like Le Guin, Pullman, and Rowling) seemed overly detailed and repetitive, and at times overly critical (even if I agreed with the assessment).  The authors general point was that some works don't convey Biblical truths, and should thus be avoided.  By "Biblical truths," I don't mean overt reference- they loved the Harry Potter books, for example- I mean they convey worldviews or relativistic viewpoints that are at odds with the Biblical description of the world.  I agree that we need to look at meaning and underlying messages/worldviews, and not all works convey a healthy or correct perspective, but the authors could have made that section much shorter (and, I believe, there can be wisdom found in specific instances even if the work as a whole is coming from the wrong perspective).  In addition, they seemed to compare most modern works to Tolkien and Lewis, as if their works were the be-all, end-all.  I love both Lord of the Rings and Narnia, but . . . it seemed overly deferential.  Finally, they discussed at great length the influence of earlier works on the later, and believed the linkages non-negotiable.  Not inherently bad, but I'd argue similarity does not necessarily imply imitation or influence.

I conclude on a positive note.  Why do I love fantasy and myth?  Because "it challenges that which is phony, unnecessary, false, and trivial.  It challenges us to move past our comfortable lives and to engage in a significant battle.  Myth, fantasy, and fairy at its best always do that.  They challenge us to live lives governed by the transcendent, eternal, moral, and unseen realities, and not by the mundane, temporal things that seem so real and physical and commonplace."

Rating: B+

Friday, May 27, 2016

The Benefits of Observation & Trial

Today's stream-of-consciousness post is brought to you by my most recent failed Magic: the Gathering deck construction attempt.

Collectible Card Games (CCGs) require a good amount of pre-game planning, as you must construct a 60-card deck from scratch before squaring off against an opponent.  In Magic, the 'generic' victory condition is reducing your opponent to zero life before he/she does the same to you.  There are several 'gimmick' cards, however, that present alternate victory conditions- one such is below, called Near-Death Experience.


A few years ago, I decided to make a deck based around this victory condition.  I decided to go with white/black for my colors, as they (especially black) had a number of cards (examples below) that enabled me to lose  life (which normally is a bad thing, but here was desired) while doing something cool, or profited from me having low life (Death's Shadow, for example).



So far, so good.  I needed some more ways to lose life, and certain lands helped:


I was well on my way.  But I needed a way to get down to 1 life without getting to 0.  Here's where these two cards were key- I'll call them my 'lifelines':


With these in mind, I made my deck.  The lifelines plus the victory condition were a pretty cool combo; if I could use the other cards to decrement my life total, I figured I had a good shot.  I was excited to try it today . . . and got destroyed, twice, because I failed to heed the wording on my lifelines.

In any game, failure to comprehend the nuances of the rules can be catastrophic.  In this case, I neglected to realize that losing life and taking damage are not inherently the same thing.  From the comprehensive rules (found here):
  • 118.2. Damage dealt to a player normally causes that player to lose that much life. See rule 119.3.
  • 118.3. If an effect causes a player to gain life or lose life, that player’s life total is adjusted accordingly.
If you look at my non-land cards above, their effects say 'lose X life' and not 'take X damage.'  But if you look at Angel's Grace and Worship, they say "damage that would reduce your life total to less than 1 reduces it to 1 instead."  Damage causes loss of life (rule 118.2), but loss of life is not necessarily caused by damage- you just adjust the life total (rule 118.3).  My entire deck was based upon a misunderstanding.  My cards worked well in the early game, but once I got down to a few life, there were cards I couldn't play without destroying myself.  Sheesh.  General life lessons:
  • the details matter.
  • trials/play-testing are necessary to determine the quality of a design.
I did a similarly foolish thing in 2008 at a Star Wars Miniatures tournament in Germany.  I had misunderstood the targeting rules, and my friends shared my confusion.  We were summarily destroyed as a result.  Pay attention, folks!  And test, test, test.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

The Story of Science (Susan Wise Bauer)


The Story of Science, in author Susan Wise Bauer's own words, "is not a history of science."  Rather, "it traces the development of great science writing- the essays and books that have most directly affected and changed the course of scientific investigation."  She covers from ancient to modern times in her survey; each chapter provides some background and context to a given work, and she then lists recommended editions (some of which are e-books available for free on her website) for further reading.

Bauer writes well . . . but this wasn't what I was looking for (my fault, not hers).  It's a good resource/reference for those interested in learning more about (or reading) foundational science texts, but you'll get no formulas or equations here (more in line with my interests).  I read a third and decided to move on.

Rating: B+

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Life's Too Short to Pretend You're Not Religious (David Dark)


We should cease and desist from referring to others as religious as if they’re participants in games we ourselves aren’t playing, as if they’re somehow weirdly and hopelessly enmeshed in cultures of which we’re always only detached observers. - David Dark
Life's Too Short to Pretend You're Not Religious gets to the core of our existence.  Author David Dark argues that everyone is religious- and everything we do is an act of worshiping something.  But I'm getting ahead of myself- a synopsis is below, with ample quotes from the book.


What is religion?  

"Religion is perhaps most helpfully conceived of as the question of what tales and traditions our lives embody. Everybody embodies something, after all. We’re never not embodying."  It is "the question of how we dispose our energies, how we see fit to organize our own lives and, in many cases, the lives of others."  In other words, "the question of religion is the question of who and what we’re bound to, how it is we find ourselves tied up and what our biggest big ideas actually are, the ideas to which we find ourselves helplessly, unknowingly or even gratefully attached."


Everyone is religious.  All the time.

"If what we believe is what we see is what we do is who we are, there’s no getting away from religion."  We adhere to different belief systems, organized or personal or whatever- but we can't claim we're not religious.  After all, "a religion is a controlling story, and there are at least as many as there are people. Stories change but the fact of story doesn’t."  Therefore, "you can’t bring your values—your faith or your supposed non-faith—suddenly into play. That program is already in progress. It was always already there, being voiced. Sometimes louder and sometimes clearer than you intended."  "We can’t get past religion any more than we can live without communal ties, societies, stories or symbols. It’s what we’re up to. It is, in so many ways, the human subject."

Because this is so important, I'll reiterate: "we’re never not speaking and acting upon our religion. We’re never not involved in everyday worship."  "Our real sense of what’s really sacred is regularly on display."  "All day long, nonstop, we value and devalue people, places, things and the possibility of arable land and potable water for the babies to come. “What shall we value today?” we get to ask ourselves each morning."  There's no escaping it:
Your obsession with Game of Thrones? Religious. Your determination to hold on to that plastic bottle till you’ve found a recycling receptacle? Religious. The song you sing when you’re alone? Religious. Your response to your fellow pilgrim who just cut you off in traffic? Religious. The bad ideas you’re leaving behind and the new ones you’re trying on: Religious.

Failing to acknowledge this leads to isolation and hate.
We are of course welcome to find one another’s fervently held ideas about life and how to live it, the world, and God or no god perfectly ridiculous, but we need to remain in a conversation to have one. “Well, I’m not religious, so . . .” gets played like a trump card. If the word applies to thee but never to me, I’ve made a distinction that is an ultimately isolating move. I stand on the higher ground of reasoned detachment while you’re inevitably awash in folklore and craziness yet again. Am I permitted to feel isolated and disconnected from your strange convictions? Absolutely. But I’m putting on a front (frontin’, as the parlance of hip-hop has it) if I presume there’s nothing strange about my own, that I see clearly where others only see confusedly. I’m forsaking the possibility of fellowship, of seeing myself as one avid pilgrim among others, as I resort to the intellectual laziness of snobbery, that refuge of the shallow. It’s a dead end.

So do we know what we truly believe?

Just because we're religious doesn't mean we know what we believe.  We think we know, of course.  But . . ."our witness isn’t what we say we believe or even what we think we believe."  "The surest evidence of what we believe is what we do. Faith without works is . . . not actually your faith, as it turns out. We do what we believe—maybe it’s a relief to even say it aloud—and we don’t do what we don’t."  We do this all the time.  We disregard our stated beliefs out of perceived necessity.  We use phrases like 'necessary evils,' and do all sorts of unthinkable things- and sanction unthinkable actions.  But "by drawing a line between our supposed convictions and our actual practices, we hold and exercise power without taking responsibility for it. But what we believe is what we do."  "Our policies and our liturgies are one and the same."


We need, therefore, to live an examined life. 

This isn't easy.  "We can hardly see past what’s been normalized for each of us in our lifetimes of cultural immersion."  Yet "an unexamined religion is not worth having."  So "why not take a look at what we’re into, those patterns of behavior we’re often immersed in so thoroughly and hypnotically that we have to fight for the right to even think about them?"  It's important- in fact, "a self-conscious grappling over what actually animates us might be the most essential, sacred task any of us can take on."  In effect, the author is saying we should all "be a practitioner of simple self-awareness, [and have] a way of wondering at ourselves and all the strange things we put up with, sustain and perpetuate, a way of bringing it all to consciousness."


What is the end result of an examined life?
We'll work towards a better society; a truer existence.  "If religion names the ordering of our priorities, what miracles might come when we begin to pay attention to ourselves?"  We'll find that "a mind on alert won’t accept that the way things are is the way things have to be."  In fact, "at any moment, I can change the story I’m telling myself."

We'll stop labeling and disregarding others.  "I want very badly to challenge the ease with which we succumb to the false divide of labels, that moment in which our empathy gives out and we refuse to respond openhandedly or even curiously to people with whom we differ. As I see it, to refuse the possibility of finding another person interesting, complex and as complicated as oneself is a form of violence."  In fact, 
When I label people, I no longer have to deal with them thoughtfully. I no longer have to feel overwhelmed by their complexity, the lives they live, the dreams they have. I know exactly where they are inside—or forever outside—my field of care, because they’ve been taken care of. The mystery of their existence has been solved and filed away before I’ve had a chance to be moved by them or even begun to catch a glimpse of who they might be. They’ve been neutralized. There’s hardly any action quite so undemanding, so utterly unimaginative, as the affixing of a label. It’s the costliest of mental shortcuts . . . This is why it often seems to me that calling someone liberal, conservative, fundamentalist, atheist or extremist is to largely deal in curse words. It puts a person in what we take to be their place, but it only speaks in shorthand. When I go no further in my consideration of my fellow human, I betray my preference for caricature over perception, a shrug as opposed to a vision of the lived fact of somebody in a body. In the face of a perhaps beautifully complicated life, I’ve opted for oversimplification.
We'll be in better relationship with each other.  "When we really admit to the fact of our own context, we’re less prone to deny others the complications of their own and empathy becomes a living possibility."
Numbering ourselves among those who conduct their lives according to strange ideas about the world, acting out one form of devotion after another, whether inspired or ill-conceived, means refusing to keep ourselves aloof from the rest of humanity and accepting a place among our fellow pilgrims also searching for meaning, also trying to make sense of their own lives, and also living with the difficult and pressing question of what to do in light of what we know. We begin to take up the task of empathy when we’re susceptible to the sense that the inner lives of others might be as real and as realistic as our own.
And it's all about relationship.  "Our inescapable network of mutuality—our common existence—is a living fact that can’t be reasonably denied."  "Our life is one long process of mutual aid, and what a relief it is when people act on this knowledge."  And so
understanding ourselves to be just as religious as any and everyone else might afford us time, space and vision with which to see ourselves more clearly and honestly, the better to grasp or begin to grasp—it’s a life’s work after all—the deepest implications of what we’re doing to ourselves and others.

Review

You've probably gathered that I thought this a phenomenal book.  The fact that I highlighted 106 passages in a 200-page book validates that.  This is one of those must-reads.  For everyone.

Rating: A+

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Captain America: Civil War


After the events of Captain America: Winter Soldier and Avengers: Age of Ultron, the world is starting to view the Avengers in a different light.  Yes, they provide essential assistance against the greatest threats . . . but the collateral damage is huge, they answer to no official authority, and some believe there may be causality between this team of superheroes and the skyrocketing quantity (and magnitude) of enemies coming out of the woodwork.  Some think they need to be put in check.

To that end, the US and over 100 other countries have proposed "the Sokovia Accords," whereby the Avengers come under control of (essentially) the United Nations, and only the UN can tell them where and when to intervene.  Some of the team- like Iron Man, Vision, and Black Widow- think the accords are a necessary compromise and will sign it.  Others- like Captain America, Falcon, and Scarlet Witch- cannot in good conscience allow someone else to tell them what's important and what's not.  They have to act according to their beliefs.  The stage is set for conflict, and when the Cap's old friend Bucky, AKA the Winter Soldier, bombs the next UN gathering, things erupt into all-out civil war between the superheroes.  Is this the end for Earth's mightiest heroes?

This is a good movie.  It felt more like Avengers 3 due to the number of heroes in this one, and that's not a bad thing.  While some development felt rushed, overall the humor and action were good, and it's important to think on three main points:
1) How do we treat the reality of collateral damage?  Innocents (and non-belligerents) die in every conflict.  How should that govern how we handle things?
2) What do you do when a major disagreement divides a team?  Do you fight for unity of thought, dissolve the team, or simply duke it out to the end?  We deal with such conflicts constantly in our lives, and we (or at least I) seldom deal with them well.  Though the movie didn't really answer the question, I suspect it's because there is no easy, all-encompassing answer to it; each situation is different and may warrant a different approach.  And . . . maybe both sides are right.  What do you do then?  Which leads to the last point . . .
3) Who has authority in or over our lives?  Should we listen only to ourselves?  Or can/should another hold sway over us?  If so, who should that be?  And what do we do when we disagree with that authority?

Rating: A-

Saturday, May 14, 2016

The Black Death (Philip Ziegler)


From 1347-50, about one-third of Europeans were killed by that infamous plague, the Black Death.  Its origins, nature, and consequences (economic, social, religious, and other) are discussed in a book of the same name by Philip Ziegler.  He also covers its spread through Europe and how certain regions (Italy, France, Germany, and Britain) were specifically afflicted.  He includes a historical fiction example of how it would have played out in a typical Medieval English village, and includes brief coverage discussing the toll in lives and ramifications to education, agriculture, and architecture.  By his own admission, "this book contains no original research.  It is an attempt to synthesise in a single readable but reasonably comprehensive volume the records of the contemporary chroniclers and the work of later historian, in particular the great flood of PhD theses . . ."

A summary of the Black Death: This wasn't the first time a plague of this variety hit mankind- in fact, we know about three such pandemics.  The first recorded instance occurred in 542.  This book deals with the second- starting around 1347- which is certainly the best known.  Once it hit in force, it came and went periodically (every few years, or decades, or even centuries) until it petered out around the great London plague of 1665 (see my book review here for coverage on that event).  In fact, for the Black Death,
The high mortality of its initial impact is followed by a long period in which it lies endemic, a period interspersed with occasional epidemics which gradually die away in frequency and violence.  Finally, perhaps several hundred years after the original outbreak, the plague vanished.
There was a third outbreak that began around 1892, and lingered into even the 1970s, where it could be found "in the Azores and parts of South America."  In this most recent run, about six million were killed in India alone.

Three kinds of plague collectively made up the Black Death:
- bubonic plague (largely lethal (60-90%?), it would kill in 4-7 days)
- pneumonic or pulmonary plague (nearly 100% lethal, it would kill in <2 days)
- septicaemic plague (rarest; also nearly 100% lethal and killed in <2 days)

This 1348 epidemic may have begun 10 years prior in central Asia, and was carried to the Mediterranean ports (where the effects were often felt earliest and hardest).  It was mostly transmitted by fleas living on rats, though in rare cases (with the pulmonary variants) it could be airborne.  The overall death estimate is approximated at 33%, though of course it could vary widely by region and its consequences were similarly varied.  Some villages never recovered; others were back to some semblance of 'normal' within a few years.  Regardless of local impact, on a broader scale society would never be the same again.  Drop the population by a third and large-scale changes are inevitable.  Some have gone so far to say that the Plague was ultimately responsible for the Renaissance and Reformation.

The overall spread of the plague is shown in the map below.
A map of the Plague's progress (source: pinterest)
This book was okay.  The author did a good job researching and presenting multiple viewpoints and theories- a necessary approach when handling such a poorly documented era.  His prose is good- in places excellent- and was mostly enjoyable to read.  I knew about the social impacts (higher worker wages and mobility, for example), but learned a good deal about other effects- like the loss of the educated class and how that affected education, religious instruction, and craftsmanship, for example.

Where it breaks down is the repetition and qualifications.  For repetition, as he covers each country and then zooms in on Britain (about a third focuses on just this country), its the same story over and over again, making me wonder if so many examples were necessary.  Yes, there were minor regional variations, but by and large, few areas escaped the plague, and each was affected in largely similar fashion.  One city may have lost 23% of its population, and another 45%, but the bottom line was that lots of people suffered, and he takes a long time to get to that point.

For qualifications, those got annoying quickly, as there were qualifications within qualifications.  I'll paraphrase a typical argument as an example: "some say the Black Death was the sole cause of the era that advanced the rights of labor.  But others say it had little effect.  It probably played a large role, but not as large as some state, but not as little as others state.  But an important role nevertheless.  But not the sole motivator."  etc. etc.  Over and over and over again.  Yes, I get that generalization is dangerous, and qualifications are necessary.  Ultimately, the author concludes where he could have started: the Black Death was a major factor in societal change and accelerated- but did not create- advances in many areas, to include labor and religion.  There- done.  This combined with the aforementioned repetition made the book unnecessarily long.

In the end, this was a decent read, but not as compelling as I hoped.  I think Barbara Tuchman's 25-page treatment of the topic in A Distant Mirror (review) may convey the same essence in 10% of the space.

Rating: B

Monday, May 9, 2016

The God Who is There (Francis A. Schaeffer)


It's funny what you stumble across when combing through old PC files.  In 2007, five years before I started this blog, I created a document to review books I read.  I used it only once, for the subject of today's review.  The below words are reprinted without modification; interesting how my writing has changed over the years.
---------
“The God who is There” by Francis Schaeffer deals with the main theme of the 20th century secular philosophy and how, by following the thoughts presented therein to their conclusion, man is in despair.  Schaeffer puts forward that there are two ways unbelievers look at life:
  1. the rational and logical; no higher meaning, no point to life, etc.
  2. the non-rational and non-logical; existentialism, leaps of faith to believe in something
He argues that modern thought is either “contentless faith (no rationality) or rationality (no meaning).”  To further clarify, he contrasts them as “a blind optimistic hope of meaning, based on a non-rational leap of faith” vs. “the rational and logical which gives no meaning.”  He begins by showing how these ideas showed up in art, music, literature, theology, etc.  He gives examples of different artists, and he shows how, as a whole, society has drifted away from any absolutes.  This drift has forced us into a bind- if there really are no absolutes, then there must be no meaning or point to life.  However, rather than accept this, we as humans make (Schaeffer contends) a non-rational leap of faith, hoping for meaning, yet finding none when we look rationally at things.  Essentially, we as humans live with both of these ideas, rational/logical vs. meaning.  These two ideas are at constant odds with each other- one cannot have one and the other, yet this is what society does.   It is in fact forced into this position, because we know as humans that there must be meaning somewhere.  Yet, we reject absolutes, and thus are left with a dilemma.  Schaeffer illustrates throughout his book that non-Christians are somewhere on a line between these two contrasting ideas, and that our job as believers is to lead them to the logical conclusion of their worldview.  In so doing, the hope is that they would see that only Christianity can adequately satisfy both the rational/logical side of life and the inner personality and meaning we as humans know we have.  To illustrate this, Schaeffer claims the Church needs to reflect the truth of Christianity both in personal righteousness and community healing.  The fall separates us; Christ brings us back together.  In this life, we should see substantial healing and relationship.  Not perfect, but substantial.  “They do not expect perfection, but they do expect reality;”  how true.  We need to be honest with nonbelievers about our struggles to attain this ideal, but our own failures cannot sway us from the fact that there is an ideal, and we need to live as such.

In short, Schaeffer shows that Christianity is the sole worldview that is based in history and is provable, and in addition gives real meaning to man.  It’s a good book, but his prose is frequently hard to understand; use of seldom-used words and unfamiliar philosophical terminology makes the book at times arduous, yet in the end, rewarding.

Rating: A

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Daddy-Daughter Dance


On Friday night, I was blessed to experience my first-ever 'daddy-daughter dance' with my 6-year-old, "Penny."  Put on by her brownie troop, I was looking forward to an evening of quality time with my little one.  Undoubtedly, it would be filled with priceless moments as we gazed at each other adoringly, shared quality conversation, and I taught her the basic ballroom dance steps.  The evening would strengthen our bond and guarantee stress-free teen years followed (much later) by her choosing a paradisiacal locale for me to spend my earthly twilight*.  This was going to be an evening to remember.

My dreams were dashed the moment we entered the ballroom**.  A professional DJ was playing upbeat, fast-paced modern dance and hip-hop tunes.  My face turned ashen as I quickly grasped what was to be expected that evening.  I was supposed exhibit suave, funky, and hip dance moves.  If you fail to understand my plight, let me be clear: I have a large amount of Germanic heritage in me.  Ingrained in my genetic code is the mandate to display little (positive) emotion and no 'funkiness' of any kind.  In the motherland, such joyful acts are considered misdemeanors.  My enthusiasm paled as my goal for the evening quickly shifted from 'enjoyment' to 'survival.'

My fears were, initially, somewhat alleviated by the appearance of other dads present.  Not only did the majority look uncomfortable in a suit, some appeared to be work-from-home programmers who had little experience wearing clothing of any kind.  The overall 'frumpiness' of the group, however, amused and distracted me for but a moment.  Then my plight returned to the fore as the DJ started a new song and commanded us to rush the dance floor.  I was thus abandoned to my fate; an undoubtedly ignominious end was forthcoming.

I focused on keeping the beat by swaying in time to the music.  I can't dance, but at least I'd show them I had rhythm, darn it.  I expertly shifted my weight from one foot to the other, at times even lifting my feet a few inches off the floor to show I could be cool and hip. My daughter, thankfully, didn't detect my deficiencies.  She did, however, demand that we get in the very center of the floor and that I spin her around.  I complied, being grateful for an opportunity, however fleeting, to drop all pretenses of dancing ability and focus on her.  But in my haste, I didn't think it all the way through.  As I spun her, the other dads cleared away.  When we stopped, I gasped as I realized that we were not only in the center of the floor, we were now the ONLY people in a 5-foot radius of the center of the floor.  And people were watching.  Oh good.  The evening was progressing nicely.

A few songs later, the DJ made us line up in two parallel lines on either side of the dance floor.  She then asked that we, one couple at a time, dance down the middle of the floor for all to see.  And guess who happened to be first in line?  That's right.  Penny and I got to show our complete lack of ability right in front of everyone.  It was around that moment, when all appeared lost, that I mercifully came to a realization: my buffoonery was not unique.  Nobody else could dance, either.  To the outsider, we all appeared to suffer from mild seizures or medical conditions prohibiting fluid movement.  In fact, the group of mothers in the back serving food were openly delighting in our collective discomfort.  Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.  Then, my daughter bolted.

Penny had spotted her friend, "Isabel," and happily scampered off with her.  Isabel's dad and I were in close pursuit, but (I think) we were both secretly relieved to be free of the aforementioned expectations.  We watched them from a few feet away as they did what (I suspect) most young girls do in such atmospheres: exhibit bizarre behavior and giggle constantly.  Just as I relaxed, though, the girls pulled us into the fray.

Isabel asked her dad to slide her between his legs, then pull her out and throw her in the air.  Penny, seeing this, demanded I do the same.  This continued for what felt like hours, the sole respite being her occasional requests to spin her in a circle, before resuming the 'slide and throw' technique.  I was exhausted, caked in sweat, and despairing of life when Penny finally took a break and got some food.  She ate about half of her selected portion, then gave me the remainder to hold until such time as she required the rest.  It was then that I realized my true role for the evening: I was to serve as both a jungle gym and personal servant, but little else.

There's not much left to say.  Things continued in such fashion until Isabel had to leave.  Penny, apparently incapable of going on without her, demanded we do the same; I was delighted to comply.

As we headed into the night, Penny thanked me for the evening.  She liked spinning and sliding, the cookies, and seeing her friends.  Though I didn't warrant a mention in the list of the evening's highlights, as I looked at my beautiful little one I realized something profound: I hope next time is a hike or something.

In all seriousness, my daughter is amazing, and I love spending time with her.  Though the evening didn't go the way I expected- or wanted- it was still time with her.  She'll move out some day, and likely forget all about this particular experience.  But I won't- public embarrassment has a way of sticking in the mind.

*never forget that your children pick your retirement home.  Ignore me at your peril.
**her elementary school's gym.

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Dreamin' Big

image from here
What would you do if time and money were no object?  If you had no daily responsibilities that tied you to an area, career, or routine?  If you could do nothing all day but pursue your dreams . . . what would you do?  I can think of several things:

Write a book
My biggest dream is to write a book- or several.  I'd want to be a combination of Dave Barry, CS Lewis, and Charles Dickens.  I'd produce works of fantasy, theology, history, and comedy- maybe all in one volume.  I have a list of ideas (and even book titles) from over the years . . .
image from here
Design and publish a game
I'd love to design and publish a stand-alone, fast-playing (in under 30 minutes) card game.  Preferably Star Wars starship-themed, with capital ships (represented on cards) engaged in tactical combat for galactic mastery.  I have several concepts in mind . . .
image from here
See the world
I've been blessed to see 30+ countries already, but there are a few more on my bucket list.  Specifically:

New Zealand: for the natural beauty . . .and Lord of the Rings sites
Peru: Machu Picchu would be amazing to see
France: Carcassonne . . . love those Medieval cities
Slovenia: heard it's nice . . . and I love eastern Europe
Croatia: Dubrovnik . . . again, love those Medieval cities
Romania: Castle Bran . . . Dracula, anyone?
Turkey: Istanbul . . . because it was Constantinople.
Israel: Jerusalem . . . and surrounding religious sites
Egypts: the great Pyramids and other ancient sites
Russia: Moscow & St. Petersburg  . . . I'd love to wear a Captain America shirt and do the capitalism dance in Red Square
My top remaining travel desires; drawn using google maps

Drive across the USA
With three young children, this is ill-advised.  But some day . . .
one idea for a route; image from here
Learn archery
Oh yeah.  Robin Hood, watch out.  There's a new ginger in the forest, and he ain't happy.
image from here
Learn the bo staff
Something about fighting with a stick has always appealed to me.  Seems so handy . . . you can find sticks anywhere, right?  Donatello, stand aside.
this is not me, promise . . . image from here
Give a Joplin concert
I have this strange idea in my head: give a 2-hour concert with ~15 Joplin rags interspersed with historical and cultural commentary to provide context.  It will never happen; though I love public speaking, I freeze in front of audiences when I'm at the piano.
image from here

Lecture around the country
About what?  I have no idea.  Star Wars?  King Arthur?  Robin Hood?  Engineering?  Tabletop gaming?  I love teaching people in a classroom setting, but in a one-time kind of way.  That's why I love giving things like TEDtalks.
This could be me . . . I'm sure I would have that condescending look, too.  Image from here
Make fantasy maps
I have no experience or skill in this area . . . but love the art in general, and in particular would like to create actual country maps in this fantasy map setting.
image from here
Conclusion
A man can dream, can't he?  A man can dream . . .

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Tides of Time


Happy May!  Let's start the month off with a game review; today, I look at Tides of Time.

Overview

Tides of Time is a quick-playing (20-minute) game for two players only.  The game is played over three rounds; players earn Victory Points (VPs) in each round based on the kingdom they build (e.g. cards they play), and the VPs for each round are tallied at the end to determine the overall winner.

There are just 18 cards in Tides of Time, shown below.  Most cards have a suit and an ability.  The suits are palace, library, garden, temple, and stronghold.  The abilities are (normally) a scoring objective that provides VPs for certain conditions.  Most abilities give you VPs for other cards you have.  For example, one ability says "for each temple gain 3 VPs," but the card which has that ability is a stronghold card- so you get no points for that card unless your other cards are temples.


Simplified Gameplay

At the beginning of the game, all 18 cards are shuffled and placed face-down between the players.  Both are dealt 5 cards from the deck, and Round 1 begins.  Each player chooses a card, reveals it at the same time, then gives their remaining hand (now 4 cards) to the other player.  Cards are chosen again, revealed, then the 3-card hands are passed again.  Continue in this fashion until all cards have been chosen and are displayed in front of the players.  Going card by card, determine and record the victory points that specific card gives to your kingdom.  Round 1 is complete.

For a scoring example, let's say you have the below 5 cards in front of you at the end of Round 1.


Your VPs are determined going card by card.  The first card (top left) says if you have one of each suit, gain 13 VPs.  You do not have a stronghold card, so you get 0 VPs for that.  Moving clockwise, the next says for a majority of palaces, gain 7 VPs.  You have one palace card; let's say (for example) your opponent has one, too.  That means you do not have a majority of palaces, so you get 0 VPs for that.  The next card says for each library, gain 3 VPs.  You have one library, so you get 3 VPs.  The next says for each garden, gain 3 VPs.  You have two gardens, so you get 6 VPs.  The final card says for a majority of gardens, gain 7 VPs.  You have a majority (there are only three garden cards in the game, and you have two), so you get 7 VPs.  Adding these totals, for this round you get 0+0+3+6+7=16 VPs.

Now Round 2 begins.  Pick up your cards (you now have a hand of 5); choose one to keep (it will remain on your side for the rest of the game) and place it in front of you with a token indicating its permanence.  Choose another one to discard (nobody will get to use it for the rest of the game), and draw two.  Now your hand is back to 5, with one card on the table.  Now you choose one from your hand, reveal it, and pass your hand to the other player as in Round 1.  Play proceeds as before until all cards are on the table; note that each player will now have 6 cards total to score.  Score your VPs and go to Round 3.

In Round 3, pick up your cards (except for your permanent card).  Again, choose one to keep and place it in front of you with another token indicating permanence.  Choose another one to discard, draw two, and continue as you did for the other two rounds.  At the end of the round this time, each player will have 7 cards total to score.  Score your VPs, tally up all 3 Rounds for each player, and the winner is determined.

Review

I like this game.  It's short and simple, but interactive and interesting.  The hand passing mechanic means you have to choose between furthering your own strategy or denying your opponent key cards.  Injecting permanent cards and discards into each round helps the landscape shift a bit, but allows you to keep at least a small part of your 'kingdom' intact.  And finally, the artwork is breathtaking.  Overall, this is a solid game to play when you have only a few minutes to spare.

A 'how to play' video is shown here, and rules are here.

Rating: A-