Great AutoCorrects

SNAIL MAIL!

I absotively (yes, that's absolutely and positively) LURVE getting letters in the mail. There is something lost with our generation--authenticity. Since getting to know my best friend, Kelsey, we have spent much time photographing with 35mm film. Shooting with film was something I always thought was kinda neat-o, but never had enough spark or drive to actually start. Kelsey motivated me to try it. Since then, we've taken countless film pictures and even some polaroids! There is something to magical and real about holding your prints. Since you only get 36 exposures per roll, you can't take 400 pictures in one session, and thus, your pictures seem to have more meaning and substance.
Another way authenticity is lost today is through mail--handwritten letters. It's unexplainable, but after being so conditioned and used to electronic communication, letters matter so much more than I ever imagined. It feels so good to write (by HAND) a letter to someone you love; it's intriguing knowing that such a message won't actually be received by the person for at least a few days (which is NUTS in our world of instant gratification). Also, it's such a rush knowing you have real mail. It's like this...

That was my face this afternoon, as I received a major HAUL in snail mail! Let's take a look at what I got!!    :D

The flag of Jordan

The flag of Jordan, officially adopted on 2 September 1920, is based on the flag of the Arab Revolt against the Ottoman Empire during World War I. The flag consists of horizontal black, white, and green bands that are connected by a red chevron. The colors are the Pan-Arab Colors, representing the Abbasid (black band), Umayyad (white band), and Fatimid (green band) caliphates. The red chevron is for the Hashemite dynasty, and the Arab Revolt.

The seven-pointed star stands for the seven verses of the first surah in the Qur'an, and also stands for the unity of the Arab peoples. Some believe it also refers to the seven hills on which Amman, the capital, was built.

Helping others

Two images: First, as a six year old boy growing up in New York City, I am walking with
my father on a crowded midtown street. The rush of pedestrians suddenly backs up before
me as people narrow into a single lane to avoid a large object on the sidewalk. To my
astonishment, the object turns out to be a human being lying unconscious against a
building. My father quickly points to a bottle in a paper bag next to him. Not one of the
passing herd seems to actually notice the man--certainly, none make eye contact – as
they robotically follow the makeshift detour. My father, who I look up to as a model loving,
caring man, explains that the poor soul on the sidewalk "just needs to sleep it off." When
the prone man suddenly begins to ramble senselessly, my father warns not to go near.
"You never know how he'll react." I later came to see these two teachings – "There's
nothing you can do" and "Try not to get involved" – as my anthems of urban survival.

Next, fast forward several years to a market in Rangoon, Burma (now Myanmar). I
had spent the previous twelve months travelling in poor Asian cities, but even by those
standards this was a scene of misery.  Besides the inconceivable poverty, it is sweltering
hot, ridiculously crowded and the wind is blowing dust  everywhere. Suddenly, a man
carrying a huge bag of peanuts calls out in pain and falls to the ground. I then witness an
astonishing piece of choreography. Appearing to have rehearsed the scene many times, a
half dozen sellers run from their stalls to help, leaving unattended what may be the totality
of their possessions. One puts a blanket under the man's head, another opens his shirt, a
third questions him carefully about the pain, a fourth gets water, a fifth keeps onlookers
from crowding too close, a sixth runs for a doctor. Within minutes, the doctor arrives, and
two other locals join in to assist. The performance could have passed for a final exam at
paramedic school.

Rousseau once wrote that "cities are the sink of the human race." But as these
experiences in New York and Rangoon made clear, no two cities are the same. Places,
like individuals, have their own personalities.

In what cities is a needy stranger more likely to receive help? What sort of
community teaches a citizen to withhold altruism toward  strangers?


...From:

Levine, R. V. (2003). Measuring Helping Behavior Across Cultures. Online Readings in Psychology
and Culture, Unit 5. Retrieved from http://scholarworks.gvsu.edu/orpc/vol5/iss3/2

Who owns our entertainment?

A copy of a letter recently sent to Wisconsin senators Herb Kohl and Ron Johnson.

Senator Kohl, I urge you to vote against PIPA and SOPA.

The intent of these bills is to protect copyrights owned by the entertainment industry and stop piracy, yes?

Please see entertainment as consumers, not its makers, view it. Music, films, television programs, and other forms of media expression are now so prevalent that they become entwined in the very fabric of our culture. To most citizens, pop songs and movie quotes are not just entertainment, they can become ideals that remain applicable well outside of the context of entertainment. With the passing of Protect-IP, whole sites could be taken down for just one infringing link. This becomes increasingly problematic for social networking and self-expression websites (such as Facebook or Youtube). Media surrounds us in such a dense way, that it becomes unnecessarily difficult to avoid referencing any copyrighted material in social interactions over cyberspace. If I'm going to make a video of myself, am I expected to take down any posters or paraphernalia of copyrighted material I possess? What about audio? Am I expected to not include meaningful quotes from my favorite film? As for music, people can live their lives singing tunes to themselves or having a song stuck in their head as a daily occurrence; PIPA and SOPA support the notion that this natural tendency must be censored when dealing with matters of the internet.

Stopping piracy is a noble cause, I agree, but PIPA and SOPA are not a proper means to that end. The--call them--side effects of the bills far outweigh the benefits.

To conclude, I will use a case example of Star Wars. Have you heard of the recent documentary film, The People vs. George Lucas? In this film, the question is raised, "when a work of media becomes so accepted by a culture, does anyone really own it anymore?" This is the nature of media in our current culture. Not a day--in your real world, daily life--can go by when you do not interact with some form of copyrighted media; this holds true for the internet as well.

I Love You and Buddha Too.

On a wet and rainy Saturday, December 3^rd, 2011, a group of young (and some not so young) theologians ventured to the Deer Park Buddhist Center in Oregon, WI. I was a member of the escapade.

Upon arriving at the center, I missed the turn to the driveway. Some small wooden fences and a 1ft sign reading ‘Deer Park’ were all that noted the center from a mass of trees. From that alone, I knew this was going to be a place of peace, tranquility, and seclusion.

My first sight of the center was a view of the main temple; it was spectacular. A large eight-spoke wheel was affixed atop the temple (the primary symbol of Buddhism, in reference to the Buddha Shakyamuni’s turning of the wheel of the Dharma during his first sermon at the original Deer Park in Sarnath), flanked by a deer perched on either side. It was ornate, colorful, and grandiose; it really did look stylistically Indian. I was blown away that this temple could be located in Wisconsin!

  

As I approached the temple, I noticed two buildings to my right. These buildings were definitely of Wisconsin Architecture, one was a ranch-style and the other looked like something you may find in my affluent neighborhood in my Milwaukee suburb. It was very strange. I assumed that was where the monastic community here resided. There were some cars parked and I even noticed some white Christmas lights hung from the Ranch. Hmm, I thought to myself, the monks and nuns here aren’t without some of the luxuries of life. I don’t know why, but I guess I was expecting them to be full-renouncers, as we learned the Sangha, was in class—owning nothing but a rice bowl and some robes on their back. I suppose that was a bit absurd, as our culture is nothing like that of India, Nepal, or Tibet. Hindu sannyasins, Buddhist monks, and renoucers of all kinds are well accepted in those cultures. Beggars are a part of everyday life. Here, however, no such luck. Monastics in Wisconsin would have to find ways to support themselves more.

Our group entered the waiting area, and I was struck again by the interior of the temple. It was sleek, freshly polished, and modern! Such duality in this temple! It definitely looked like a rich family’s home. Leather couches, drinking fountains, fire extinguishers, it was all so odd. The only piece of evidence that this was a Buddhist temple rather than a CEO’s resort was a small sign by the stairs stating, “Temple THIS way”. I lolled.

We walked up a flight of finely polished wood stairs, and I was one of the last in line. At the top, I saw that the others had begun to take off their shoes and place them of a rack. I did the same and smiled at this Eastern custom. As I was hanging up my coat and camera bag, a nun came to meet us. She was our guide for the day.

 

She welcomed us to the temple and informed us about three spinning, wooden, polished, inscribed cylinders in the waiting area. She told us they were prayer turners and the prayer etched on them was one for peace; if we turned them, we would get all the good karma produced by the prayer. Needless to say, I proceeded to spin them. J

It was at this point that our nun brought us into the temple proper. We rounded a corner and the sight I saw immediately stunned me. The temple was beautiful. An enormous, golden depiction of the Buddha, sitting in lotus position on a blooming lotus flower, was affixed in the center of the shrine. Light twinkled, reflecting and refracting off of gold and crystal. About a dozen other smaller golden statues flanked the primary one of the Buddha, not to mention the 20-or-so foot-long ones lining the very top of the shrine. On the stage, I saw incredibly embellished rugs. A central block rested in the middle of the stage, with a large portrait of His Holiness, the 14^th Dalai Lama sitting atop it. I estimated that this his “throne” for any visits he would make to the Center. The room itself was huge, the walls covered with tapestries, rows of sitting cushions lining the floor, and the entire rear wall filled with shelves of additional cushions. Seemingly endless rows of shelves flanked either side of the shrine, filled with—we later learned—all of the sacred scriptures and commentaries in the entire Vajrayana Buddhist religion.

We all chose a cushion to sit on and our nun began to lead us through a discussion. She told us the history of the Center—how Geshe Sopa fled Tibet after China attacked and was invited to teach at UW-Madison. When His Holiness the Dalai Lama was invited to join Geshe Sopa for a ritual celebration, the Center was built as a location for that. We were sitting the newer, the second temple, finished in 2008. Our nun raved about how ecologically friendly the new temple was. It used very little energy and was highly sustainable. From my own admission, I noted that the air ventilation system in the ceiling was identical to that of the also highly sustainable Starin Residence Hall here at UW-Whitewater. While I sat cross-legged on my cushion, I noticed the marble floors were comfortably warm. Perhaps some geo-thermal floor heating was at work.

As the nun detailed the story of Siddhartha Gautama’s life to us, I examined her. She was of age, maybe early 60’s, like someone who was a recent retiree. A sort of inner-peace characterized her; she was calm, collected, and she never made unnecessary movements. Yet, when she spoke, she was incredibly animated and enthusiastic. She wore no jewelry, sported a shaved head, and wore a long, wool-ish burgundy skirt and an insulated burgundy vest. Her attire was very simple, it was not flashy, and in fact looked very comfortable. Despite her increasing age, she moved with the vigor, lightness and fluidity of a bunny or a swan. At one point, she walked back and forth, and she did so on her toes, her heels never touching the ground. I pondered on whether this came from her inner-peace or if perhaps she was a ballerina or a jazz dancer in her pre-ordainment life.

After some Q+A with our hostess, she showed us the rest of the Center grounds. Some ways back behind the main temple was the original temple, completed in 1979. It was empty and quite run down. Nearby, our tour concluded with a circumambulation around a recreation of a Stuppa.

Chase what matters

I am a big fan of the television show Dexter. I began watching this past February and am still catch up by watching episodes online. Because I don't wish for anyone out there to throw a hissy-fit, let me put up a good ole' fashioned SPOILER ALERT. ... Hold on, it's a really good one. Ahh, here is it.

Stop reading this post at once, unless you want the truth to eat at your future love of Dexter.

Now then...

 The primary antagonist of Dexter’s fifth season is a character by the name, Jordan Chase, a motivational speaker. Chase is a well-dressed, confident man who encourages others to “TAKE IT!” (it, of course, being their true desires in life). He’s a charming and all around stand up guy—if you ignore the fact he moonlights as a crime lord who tortures and rapes women.

Chase’s monologue, one episode, got me thinking; he asks, “Do you want to have control of your life? You have that power...you just have to learn how to use it. You can make up all the excuses you want; you're too tired, too old, too fat, too stupid! You know, I've heard them all. But if you want something...TAKE IT! You want that job? Well then TAKE IT! It's entirely up to you.” I liked this. People spend their lives complaining and stressing about things out of their control far too often. If only they could just read this nifty flow chart I have right here.

Like the most obvious thing that pretty much everyone forgets

From Chase’s monologue, I just thought he was some generic, confidence and empowerment self-help type… until I heard Chase tell Dexter, “Trauma is also opportunity. Tragedy tears us apart, sure, but it’s the one chance to recreate yourself. You get to put yourself back together again any way you want.” …Woah, now. Has Chase been reading some Viktor Frankl? Telling Dexter we find meaning in our hardest times to self-improve sounds very logotherapeutic? Hell, the more you look at it, Chase is a full-blown Existentialist! “Taking it”, defining and re-defining our lives however we want; that level of choice, free will, and self-empowerment rests only in Existentialism.

Later on, Chase even says, addressing some fans, “You're all going to die—some of us sooner than others. And if you're not in touch with your primal self, you're already dead. You may be breathing and walking around but you're an empty shell—just one of the herd. Completely unaware of what you truly want.” This sounds like something straight out of Fight Club (a shining model of Existentialism portrayed through film, not to mention one of my all-around personal favorites). Existentialism and Chase...okay fine, I would say that the only thing we really posses—call it our “existential currency”—are the few years of our lives. When relationships, emotions, and material possessions come and go, our time allotted by our biology—by which we make choices and act on them—is all we really ever have. Why would anyone waste them not loving every possible second?! Yes, there are some things that our out of our control, but many people grossly overestimate how much stuff that is. We control our lives, always.

Chase tells his followers, “We're gonna cast off those shackles that bind us to jobs we hate, people we don't love, lives that aren't worth living. We are going to TAKE IT.” Existentialism gets a bad rep from some, for they see it as cold and disloyal to loved ones. They don’t understand what others do, when they wake up one day during their unhappy and unfulfilled lives and ask, “Why do I keep doing this?” They see the man or woman that leaves it all behind to go create a new life somewhere else as selfish. In truth, what this person is doing is weighing their options—looking at the connections, the relationships, the luxuries, the comforts, and the responsibilities of their current life, and seeing how they compare to the grind, the uselessness, the aggravation, the boredom, the total inapplicability of everything around them to their very core, all things that are just as much a part of an unhappy life as the luxuries it may provide. The existentialist asks, “Is it really worth it?” “Do I truly owe anything to this husband or wife of mine? Is this monotonous task really going to matter to me in the long run? I’m not expressing who I truly am. This environment isn’t one I feel comfortable in.” They look at what’s holding them there. Is it tradition? Perhaps it’s simply expected or assumed you’d stay and do what you always were supposed to. Is it lack of power of will or fear of failure? Are they just too afraid to try and live without the fancy car and supportive community? Maybe it's a combination.

At its core, in a radically unhappy life, the Existentialist chooses to leave it all behind and recreate his or herself. They recognize that the only thing that matters is that they’ve enjoyed their life, and the only thing that truly belongs to them and depends on their actions is their own existential currency—time. And yes, I am well aware I used a nauseatingly obnoxious amount of italics in this connection. I hope my charm has somewhat made up for it. Cheers!