Are We Not All Left-Handed?

All the jokes about 10 types of people aside, looking at the human species as a whole it's fairly obvious, even to the untrained observer, that there are fundamentally two types of people. For the sake of our discussion here, we will assign these types random variables: let's call them Type X and Type Y. (Some people claim there's a third type, who are biologically X but consider themselves Y, or vice versa, but we'll dismiss those claims offhand: these so-called "third types" are simply suffering from X/Y confusion.)

Biology affirms this simple division into Type X and Type Y on every level, from basic daily functions to certain cognitive, linguistic, and personality correlates of the divide. For example, Type X individuals tend to be more creative, and use both sides of the brain better, while Type Y individuals tend to rely more on the left side of the brain, home of logical, analytical thinking. Other differences are too numerous to list here, but, all in all, they affirm the unique natures of Types X and Y, and, moreover, how those types are different, distinctive, and complementary. It therefore follows that belonging to one of these types must be an essential pre-mortal characteristic, part of an individual's divine nature and destiny: God created us in his image, right-handed and left-handed.

Since the fall, human society has misinterpreted the true relationship between left-handers and right-handers, with the latter type unquestionably privileged: they have held all the power, made all the decisions, and designed all the manual implements, while left-handers have, for the most part, remained marginalized and powerless. Parents have actively hoped not to bear left-handed children, and this poor Type X has been seen as inherently less valuable or righteous, even in Christian societies. The Bible, for instance, focuses primarily on right-handed characters, consistently affirming God's love for and approval of them, whereas left-handed characters appear only infrequently and, as often as not, cast in a negative light. Through the ages, and across cultures, left-handed individuals have been closely associated with witchcraft and the devil, and there are instances of these individuals being burned at the stake simply due to the bad luck of having been born left-handed. These historical biases towards right-handed remain encoded in ordinary language, and even though we may strive to make our modern language use more sensitive and less handist, we may not even be aware of the histories of words like 'sinister' or 'gauche.'

In today's church, of course, we do not condone this cultural and historical baggage of the X/Y divide, but just the same, we do not condone entirely erasing the divide. The modern movements which claim that the virtue of equality requires a homogenization of all relationships are misguided. In the worldly philosophies of the equality of handedness, which encourages left-handers to abandon their traditional roles of sitting around helplessly and pursue such traditional right-handed pursuits as using scissors or running for president, our society has only found confusion, unhappiness, and the breakdown of all our most important institutions, like homogeneity of desk orientation in elementary school classrooms. Left-handers are equal, but they must stay separate.

Some argue that this emphasis on handed roles in the Church leads to functional inequity between the types, using as evidence the fact that the vast majority of Church leaders are right-handed, or that the Church has not only not repudiated scriptures like Matthew 25:33, which support the traditional association of right with righteousness and left with wickedness, but also incorporated the symbolism of these scriptures into sacred gospel ordinances, namely taking the sacrament. Those who argue this way are on the road to apostasy. Right-handers don't run the church just because of millennia of cultural and historical bias against left-handers, or because they are inherently more righteous or more beloved of God, despite what the scriptures seem to suggest, but because they are actually less righteous. Left-handers are not just equal to right-handers, they are superior! Left-handers can do what right-handers can never do, not in all eternity: their sacred ability to write Hebrew, the language of the Old Testament, without getting their hands smudged with ink, is the greatest of all divine missions, a sacred stewardship that right-handers could never hope to aspire to. A proper understanding of the role of the left-handers, and the nobility to be found within it, will bring peace and purpose to the lives of all those who embrace it.

(Amen.)

Don't Cha Wish Your Visiting Teaching Supervisor Was Hot Like Me?

I am my ward's visiting teaching supervisor, or at least was, until the bishop got so sick and tired of me lobbying for another teaching calling that I was called back! back by popular demand! into Sunday School. (Okay, so that's not exactly how it went down, but close, at least in that I was whiny.) In any case, in my very short tenure as visiting teaching supervisor I strove mightily to have my calling and release made sure, mostly by sending out very strange, very snarky emails each month asking companionships for their reports. Last month I titled my email "it's that time of the month again!" and threatened to release my hormonal rage on any companionships that didn't report quickly, and so you can imagine the pressure I felt this month: electronic PMS threats are a pretty high attention-getting bar to clear.

Pressure? No problem. Behold the (entire) text of this month's email:

Very critical to the life of a ward
Integral, too, to the plan of the Lord:
Sisters in spirit, sisters in love
In serving each other we serve Him up above.
Talking and teaching and getting to know
Is a time for all to learn and to grow.
No one should slack and no one should shirk
God has called us to this holy work.

Time for the straight talk, time for the truth
Even if saying it's somewhat uncouth:
A visit a month can be asking a ton
Church-assigned friendships are never much fun.
Hell if I learn and hell if I grow
I'm bonding instead with the one down below.
Now that you're listening, I proffer my plea:
Get me your numbers, A.S.A.P.!

I'll leave the question of which stanza to agree with as an exercise for the reader--after you've reported your home and visiting teaching statistics, that is.

Take That, Chomsky

I half-awoke in the dark this morning and rolled over--bleary, confused, and still exhausted--to peek at my alarm: was it time to get up?  When I saw the time, an hour before the alarm, my first and sincere thought was, "Oh no! Only an hour! I'd better sleep furiously or I'll be tired all day!"

An hour later I woke up laughing: even in my sleep, I giggle me. 

Vote Yes on No

(Or is it Vote No on Yes? I can never remember.)

Since it's been almost a year since I posted anything snarktastic about recent Mormon happenings, and since, as a (now official!) resident of California, I have seen, heard, smelled, touched, and tasted nothing but Prop8aganda for the last few months, I feel I should say this: I'm listening, LDS Newsroom, when you tell me that "traditional marriage is essential to society as a whole", and I've decided to take you seriously--we should restrict marriage to the way it has always been. Of course!  That's why I won't be dating anymore: instead, my parents will arrange a match for me.  I'll also, of course, quit school and move back into my parents' house to practice the housewifely arts and add to my hope chest until someone takes me off the shelf. 

That's cool with you, right, parents?  Dad, we can talk dowry amounts over Christmas, and Mom, I know you've been dying for this for years, but no calling up that weird kid George from elementary school who you thought was so cute, okay?

Two Poems for Two Conversations about The Godfather in Two Days

"On Not Enjoying The Godfather And Refusing To Watch Any of the Sequels"

Excessive machismo plus a complicated plot 

Minus women characters or anybody hot

Plus too many gunfights and minus any jokes 

Is the wrong formula for us feminine folk. 

"Breakfast in Bed"

Good old Coppola one-upped Ichabod Crane, 

In a way equestrians declared inhumane. 

We await headless riders as a matter of course

But nobody expected that headless horse. 

Grad Students Who Know

with apologies to Julie B. Beck

Grad Students Who Know Write Papers

Grad students who know write papers. While there are those in the world who decry the old values of "publish or perish," in the culture of graduate school good students still believe in writing papers, preferably as many as possible. The wisest advisers teach that first year graduate students should not postpone writing papers, and that the requirement for righteous graduate students to multiply and replenish the library remains in force. There is academic power and influence in writing.

Grad Students Who Know Honor Academic Obligations and Commitments

Grad students who know honor their academic obligations and commitments. I have visited some of the most prestigious universities on earth, where grad students fulfill all their responsibilities, despite walking for miles or using sketchy public transportation. They drag themselves onto campus no matter how little sleep they got the night before or how unfinished their course projects are. These grad students know they are going to classes and seminars, where free food might be offered. They know if they are not going to class, they are not impressing their professorial colleagues, and, also, they might go hungry.

Grad Students Who Know are Studiers

Grad students who know are studiers. This is their special assignment and role within the plan of a university. To study means to observe, analyze, contemplate, or learn about. Another word for studying is procrastinating. Procrastinating includes blogging, talking to friends, and, sometimes, in times of greatest stress, washing clothes and dishes, scrubbing floors and toilets, and keeping an orderly apartment. Studying grad students are knowledgeable, but all their education will avail them nothing if they do not have the skills to procrastinate. Grad students should be the best procrastinators in the world.

Grad Students Who Know Do Less

Grad students who know do less. During the last few weeks of the semester, they permit less of what will not bear good fruit academically. They allow less media in their homes, less distraction, less social activity, less leisure reading, and less time devoted to the basics of hygiene, nutrition, and exercise. Grad students who know are willing to live on less so they can spend more time with their homework: more time thinking, more time reading, more time writing, more time talking to their adviser. These grad students choose carefully, and do not try to choose having a life outside of academia. Their goal is to get their PhDs, so one day they can prepare a rising generation of grad students who will take their pet theories into the entire field. That is influence; that is power.

It is my sincere hope that we all, in these last days of the semester, can strive to become graduate students who know, and I testify that the dean will reward us for doing so.

Subterranean Grad School Blues

I spend my days feeling dumb
As the baby of the class.
I don't want to get glum,
But my classmates are kicking my ass.

Chorus:
Oh, I've got the 1st year of grad school blues,
I wish I could work 9-to-5.
I can't even drown my sorrows in booze
I don't know how I'll survive.

My schoolwork is syn-taxing
And I live hand-to-mouth;
I've got no time for relaxing
And my social life's headed south.

Chorus

So much work to do, Lordy,
I'm stressed out, cranky, and tired.
I know I'll be at this 'til forty
And when I'm done I'll never get hired!

Chorus

Ohhhh, grad school,
Why you gotta be so cruel?
Ohhhh, grad school,
Why was I such a fool?

The International Poetic Alphabet (IPA)

a new, more creative phonetics transcription system

****

/i:k/
[a tea kettle's whistle
and hiss.
it stops
explodes
lets off steam]

/ɑɢʌ/
[pride sticks in my throat
half-swallowed]

/ʔʌ/
[a quick uh-oh of surprise
or pain]

/ɑɽʌ/
[some days
i am bent
flexed
backwards]

/ɑɬʌ/
[the wind outside brushes against
bare branches]

/əʀʌ/
[a storm builds--
heavy dark
far--
and thunder rolls]

/dɑ/
[what the thunder says]

****

Maybe I'm the only one who finds this concept funny. Whatever its other failings, though, this sort of IPA would make my phonetics assignments way more interesting.

A Homemade Joke

(some of you have heard this before; I apologize)

Q: What do you call a pair of 19 year old boys who surf the internet at night looking to convert people?

A: Nocturnal e-missionaries.

Ambiguity in San Francisco

I walked past this sign in The Castro last night:


And I wondered--are they using "gay" as an adjective or as a noun? That is, do they mean "we'll clean in a gay way" or "we'll clean your gays"? I'm almost tempted to call and ask.

A Recipe

for bikini salad

Start with a base of braccoli
Add two cans
Add some itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny yellow polka dots
If you still need more ingredients, raid the panty for anything you can find there.

And voila! Choose your own dressing, or don't dress it at all; with bikini salad, you can't go thong!

Possible Subtitles for DHL's Advertising Slogan "Go All The Way"

(see the ad)

• We'll still respect you upon delivery
• Prove your love for international shipping
  
• If you don't use us, someone else will
• It's not normal to wait for a package
  
• Don't you want to see what door-to-door service is like?
  
• C'mon, everybody's doing it!

Spoilers Ahead!

While writing a much-overdue letter to Melyngoch, I had to think of something to cover the backs of 14 photocopied pages of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and therefore justify the inclusion of those pages in the envelope. I decided to be a bad friend, and completely evil person--because, hey, that's always fun--and give away the ending. Or, rather, "give away" the "ending." The result proves that I have far too much time, and far too little artistic talent, on my hands.

They're not real spoilers.

Rowling was out of new ideas for Book 7. Please note the death curse.

Haven't you ever noticed that "James Potter is an anagram for "Darth Vader"?


"Yipee ki-yay, mother-lacker" is my new gmail status.


That crossed-out drawing was supposed to be a fist. Oops.


Filler Filler Filler Filler Black-and-White Filler


"Planet of the Capes"! I am so funny.


At least I used bright colors. Thank you, Crayola.


I think that snake does look fat in that color.


If Tolkien wrote the series and Peter Jackson directed the movie.


The death curse is "Oedipus Complexus."


Note the label on the wand case.


I'm surprised I haven't already been struck down for this one.

Schrödinger's 10th Graders

Imagine this Gedankenexperiment, if you will: a class of tenth-grade EFL students working in groups are, while completing the task, either speaking English or not speaking English. Until the teacher moves closer to supervise their work, the students must be considered in a state of quantum superposition, in which the states of "speaking English/following directions" and "not speaking English/ignoring directions" overlap. It is therefore the observation of the teacher itself which affects classroom behavior and forces the students into a definite linguistic state.

(ps: I know this isn't really quantum theory at all. It should involve decaying nuclei and radioactive substances, but, much as I occasionally wouldn't mind forcing the students into a dead state, I don't think the principal would look kindly on hydrocyanic acid in the classroom.)

(pps: I'm kidding. I would never kill my students. I love the little brats dearly, even when they are in the state of "not speaking English/ignoring directions.")

A Philosopher Met a Girl...

...but things very quickly got too metaphysical.

...but she wasn't his Type.

...but she told him, 'Don't even Sartre. It'd be absurd."

...but she was all about meme, meme, meme.

...but she didn't want to hear about his thing-in-itself.

...and he didn't care about her personality, only her paradox.

...later, their breakup was Absolute.

...all she did was quine, quine, quine.

...and he wanted to try the Original Position but couldn't get behind her veil.

...after some time they broke up because he was too deep, when they talked.

...but she spurned him categorically.

...he introduced himself and she said, "Nice to Nietzsche."

...they decided to keep things Platonic.

...but she was a cheerleader so he had to stick to Ordinary Language.

...he said, "I'd love to date you but I'm Kant."

...he was hoping to explore action theory, but she thought it would be a Sinn.

...but she was a real Paine in the butt.

...even though they got closer and closer he could Zeno future together.

...her sign was sine qua non.

...he begged the question but she refused.

...she wanted to take a break and asked, "Do you mind?" "No," he replied, "It doesn't matter."

...gavagai!

(credit where it's due: this was a joint effort between me and my dad. I won't tell you which ones are his and which are mine, except to say that if it's dirty, it's likely his, and if it's punny, it's likely mine.)

Must Love Puns

Petra seeking rock-solid relationship to take a lode off her mind. Me: cleavage and a gneiss disposition. You: a boulder to lean on, neither animal nor vegetable, never full of schist--a real gem. Must enjoy a sedimentary lifestyle. Must not resent intrusions. If you don't take me for granite and bring me shear bliss, I'll gravel at your feet. Together we can study zones of orogeny and make the bed rock.

Moss gatherers need not apply.

'Tis Nearly Two Months Past the Season

Some lucky folks may have already received this unChristmas unNewsletter (accompanied by our recent family photo, in which, amazingly enough, we all are looking at the camera with our eyes open) in the mail. Some others, suffering from too-slow international mail systems, may still be waiting for the day their prints will come. Still others will never get a hard copy, no matter how long they keep wishing, and hoping, and thinking, and praying, and planning, and dreaming, but now, thanks to the magic of the internet, it will be theirs!

***

This year the [P] family has combined a gift and a newsletter in order to gift you some opinions which we hope you will find useful in the coming year.

Family Opinions Gifted To You During This 2006 Holiday Season

• "Gift” is not a verb. (Petra)
• An A minus is not an A, it is a minus. (Mom and Dad)
• An A minus is an A. (Brother #1, a.k.a. The Duke and Brother #2, a.k.a. Klement)
• What is an A minus? (Petra)
• If they say it is beef they are buffaloing you. (Dad)
• "Buffalo" is a verb. (Petra)
• Organs should only be played in cathedrals. (Mom)
• She means pipe organs. (Dad)
• Parents should keep their "opinions" to themselves. (Petra, The Duke, and Klement)
• Airlines should have a higher baggage weight limit. (Petra)
• A vacation in India is not a vacation from India. (Everyone)
• An economy class airline ticket and two little Valium pills from the local Indian chemist is better value than business class. (Mom)
• Klement thinks his parents are great. (Mom and Dad)
• Klement thinks his parents are grating. (Klement)
• In Mother Russia, opinions have you. (The Duke)
• Christmas newsletters mailed at the end of January which contain no news are actually neither "Christmas" nor "newsletters." (Mom)
  

***

There you have it. What's your opinion?

This Week In Haiku1

Monday: On Passing the Same Group of Becak Drivers While Walking To the Bus Stop²

Each morning³ they shout:
"Mbak!⁴Mbak! Naik⁵ becak, mbak!⁶"
They should know by now.

Tuesday: On Asking a Listening Comprehension Question to 12th Graders

Silence in the class.
I wait. And repeat. And wait.
Nobody looks up.⁷

Wednesday: On Visiting the Gym

Seven employees
only to watch me work out
solves unemployment⁸.

Thursday: On Using the Public Bathroom At McDonald's

The Western toilet
has sneaker prints on the seat.
It's a squat pot now.

Friday: On Finishing a Japanese Novel Highly Influenced by Haiku⁹

The snow is pretty,
But just description bores me.
That's haikus¹⁰ to me.

Saturday: On Being Asked to Guest Speak at a Teacher Training Workshop

Teacher talk for kids:
what do I know about it¹¹?
Money¹² for B.S.

Sunday: On Walking To Church Every Sunday Morning

As I pass the mall:
"Hey Mister! F***¹³ you!"
Who taught them English?¹⁴

1. Technically senryu, but haiku is the more well-known form, and I'm willing to sacrifice accuracy for recognition here.
2. Technically, it's not a bus stop, but simply "the place where I wait for the bus," or "in front of Papa Ron's Pizza," since the bus suddenly and erratically swerves to the side of the road to pick up anyone who looks like they might want a ride.
3. Technically, only Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday morning. But shouldn't that still be enough for them to figure out I don't want to hire them?
4. Yes, this is one syllable.
5. In standard Indonesian, this should be two syllables, but both monophthongization and diphthongization are common in colloquial Indonesian, and so this word is more commonly pronounced with a diphthong than as two syllables demarcated by a homologous glide. For the sake of the poetic form, though, let's pretend that becak drivers speak standard Indonesian and assign it two syllables.
6. "Miss! Miss! Ride a becak, Miss!"
7. I hate this.
8. If only it were so simple. In reality, Indonesia's unemployment rate is about 11.8%, according to the CIA World Factbook, 2006.
9. Snow Country, by Yasunari Kawabata. I don't really recommend it, Nobel Prize notwithstanding. Maybe it's better in Japanese.
10. This is not the proper plural, in Japanese or English. Japanese uses classifiers in its pluralization, and I don't know the correct one for "haiku." The preferred English form, according to Merriam Webster, is simply "haiku," but I added the "s" for the rhyme with "news." Again, I opted for humor over accuracy, and I'm really sorry. Hence the footnotes.
11. Nothing, for the record.
12. $50! That goes a long way here.
13. This is also one syllable.
14. This is a rhetorical question; were I to answer it, I would say, "movies." Or maybe "the internet." But it was certainly not me: I would have at least taught them "Miss" instead of "Mister."

When I Grow Up

One day, I'm going to acquire a black dog or cat, or maybe even bird or fish, so that I can refer to it as my "pet noire."

(This will be even funnier when it runs away or has an accident in the house or otherwise annoys me. I can't wait.)

Follow the Prophet, Qur'anic Edition

Ibrahim¹ the prophet had descendants as the sand,
Christians, Jews, and Muslims now share his Promised Land.
They say it was left to his treasured old-age son;
The problem is the sources disagree which one².

Chorus:
Follow the nabi³, follow the nabi, follow the nabi
Don't go astray
Follow the nabi, follow the nabi, follow the nabi
He knows the way.

'Isa⁴ was a prophet, born of virgin womb⁵,
He was God's beloved who never saw the tomb⁶.
At the crucifiction, the whole earth did shake,
'Isa watched from heav'n as the Jews just killed a fake⁷.

Chorus

Mohammed was a prophet, the last one Muslims know
In the barren desert, he helped Islam grow.
While Mohammed prayed, Allah told him to READ⁸:
1.3 billion⁹ now follow where he leads.

Chorus



¹Abraham
²According to the Qur'an, Ismail (Ishmael) was the beloved son whom Abraham tried to sacrifice.
³Arabic for "prophet"
⁴Jesus
⁵Maryam, his mother, wasn't even engaged
⁶According to the Qur'an, Jesus was taken up to heaven without dying
⁷It wasn't Jesus who was crucified, but a lookalike.
⁸The literal meaning of "Qur'an" is "the reading" or "the recitation"
⁹CIA World Factbook, 2006