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Sabbatical
Tuesday, 15 May 2007

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I've been neck deep in research for my current WIP and so haven't had the time to blog. I think that while I'm working on this book, I'll just have to say I give on the blogosphere. I know other writers are able to blog while researching and writing, but I find that the particular theme of this book and the pressures on my little brain, requires every ounce of my energy and thought.

So I won't be blogging for awhile, nor reading and posting on the blogs I love (you know who you are). I'll have to come up for air at some time, so when I begin to make comments on your blogs again, you'll know I'm back. 

 


 

 
The Violence of Our Times
Wednesday, 09 May 2007

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I'm sure Paris Hilton didn't know how ironic this picture would turn out to be when she posed for it. What she was trying to say to young girls is a mystery, but here you have a symbol of what's wrong with our culture. 

A few blogs I enjoy visiting have recently delivered intriguing commentaries on what kids these days are coming to. Katie at Slightly Savage talked about how celebrities like Paris Hilton and her much publicized antics are giving girls the wrong message. Thank God there are writers like her diluting that message with their books. It takes a village.

Lisa Kenney at Eudaemonia blogged about the Virginia Tech massacre, and how the culture contributes to the current state of unrest among our youth. She birthed a fascinating discussion about what it takes to be a good parent.

The other day I spotted a thought provoking bumper sticker. It read: "Kids who hunt and fish don't steal purses from little old ladies." At first read, this comes off as trite. Is it saying then, that kids who are given the opportunity to express their natural aggressive tendencies in nature will not inappropriately express them in the world?

In the paper yesterday, I read an article written by Mike White (a screenwriter by trade) who was responding to the public outcry that horrificly violent movies are largely responsible for the Virgina Tech massacre. Mr. White admits that "There's a lot of money to be made trafficking in blood and guts. Young males--the golden demographic movie-makers ceaselessly pursue--eat that gore up." Gives credence to the bumper sticker, doesn't it? Maybe young males, not given the opportunity to channel their aggressive tendencies through hunting and fishing seek release through gory movies.

Mr. White goes on to muse: "Movies were a big influence on our clothes and our slang, and on how we thought about and spoke to authority figures, our girlfriends and one another. Movies permeated our fantasy lives and our real lives in subtle and profound ways." 

Yikes. But surely violence has seeped into every aspect of our culture. There is the obvious violence in rap songs, movies, video games, and celebrities/media personalities who, in a misguided sense of entitlement, think they can say and do whatever they want. But there's also the hidden violence: the blind respect we demand children have for authority figures. Overstressed/rushed parents with little time to spend with their children, helping them to choose the path less travelled and the state of our eductional system where disillusioned and overworked teachers no longer have the time or energy to mentor students, to lift them up and guide them along the path less traveled.

Thomas Merton said, "To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is to succumb to the violence of our times."

No wonder we have created a generation of spiritually, physically and emotionally isolated children and young adults.  

I think too many kids these days are automatons, taught to toe the line, to slavishly follow authority, the status quo. Their sense of self has been collectively raped by cultural, parental, religious dogma. This amounts to loss of soul: to be so wounded as to lose the responsibility they have to themselves as individuals. 

I was idly listening to some of my daughter's music the other day--some nice mind-numbing songs punctuated with the odd rap tune that wailed over and over, "I Wanna #@$* You." She says she knows it's stupid, but she's thumbing her nose at the world by making the parent wince. When I was her age, I did the same thing by cranking up the Beach Boys singing, "We're getting bugged driving up and down the same old strip, we gotta find a new place where the kids are hip." 

Why don't I tell her she can't listen to songs that belittle women? Because I want her to make her own choices. I've brought her up to be an individual first, my child second. We talk about the goals of media propaganda, the truth behind the lies. I hope that I've taught her to question everything, not take anything at face value. 

If we teach children to question laws, rules, boundaries and to ask themselves why they are doing something, what force outside them is exacting pressure on their minds, we take the first step to counteract the pressure of cultural messages. 

Unfortunately this sort of upbringing makes for headstrong individuals who use their inquiring minds to keep us accountable at every turn. Peppers your hair with gray, but it's worth it in the long run. Raising a child is not easy, nor should it be advertised as such. If we are to turn out young adults who have a love for truth, then surely only good can follow. Eyes open, not wide shut. And an ample supply of Advil in the medicine cabinet.

What do you think it takes to be a good parent?

 
Love Story
Monday, 07 May 2007

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After a weekend studying The Communist Manifesto and Kant's view of the natural world as a closed system of reciprocal forces (research all for my latest WIP), my brain was burned. To paraphrase Bob Dylan, I was blown out on the trail and craving distraction. In the old days, I'd head to the campfire to receive succour and life instruction in the form of story, now I must content myself with television.

So I fixed a cup of earl grey tea and arranged myself on the sofa. I'm not convinced that The Amazing Race All Stars will make me forget Karl Marx's ideas to bring about the downfall of the capitalist system, only to set up another form of capitalism, but when I see the opening credits of Fried Green Tomatoes, it's no contest.

As the scenes unfold, I notice all kinds of details that  I haven't appreciated before. The film takes on a more subtle beauty and of course the ironic moments are so damn enjoyable. The tenderness of the love story when Idgy tells Ruth, "I'm as settled as I ever hope to be." The tale of one woman's new found power, "Towanda, the Avenger!" and "If I was gonna kill you, I'd use my hands." The oddball characters, Idgy, Sipsy, Big George, Ruth, and Smokey Lonesome. Old friends, all.

Great movies have staying power, don't they? Last weekend I revisited Moonstruck and The Way We Were. Two classics. Funny how love creeps into the theme of our favorite stories. Maybe the Beatles were right when they sang, "All you need is love"?

In Fried Green Tomatoes it was:  Love comes  from the least expected places. In Moonstruck it was: Love comes when you least expect it, and in The Way We Were: Love comes and goes when you least expect it.

In good books, too, love is the central theme. Yesterday, I finished Ian McEwan's new novel, On Chesil Beach. Another brilliant effort by a great author. Damn, that man is an artist. In one small novel, he touched on so many subtle human experiences--which seem impossible to put into words: the strange osmotic rivalry in a relationship, and both the fleeting and the resilient nature of love.

What's your favorite love story?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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