So here I reappear. Suddenly I am alive again in the universe of bits and bytes. I have regularly maintained and updated my Facebook profile, but that's not nearly the same thing. For the past year and a few weeks I have shied from unloading my personal hangups and neuroses from the few who read my blog, but I can't keep it up. It's so easy to become enmeshed in the whole 'I need to tell the whole world what I'm doing at every damn moment of every damn day' mentality, and so difficult to detach oneself from that way of thinking. The other day I joined Twitter just so I could follow my friends at withinreachmovie.com and soon they were my followers - obligated to follow my every tweet.

More to come as I see fit, but I'll try not to 'overshare'.

Clothing Exchange In Jail Part 1

Maybe you're reading, maybe playing cards with your cellie, maybe simply staring at the ceiling envisioning all the food you will eat when you get out and trying to stave off sleep, when the lights turn on and the squawking voice comes over the intercom: "Get up, get ready for clothing exchange. Strip your mattress, empty your box, clear your table. Socks, towel, and underwear in hand, standing at your door. DO NOT leave your cell until an officer tells you!"



And thus it begins: clothing exchange in the Salt Lake County Jail. That thrice-weekly event which elicits sighs and groans from the most hardened inmates; something that is unarguably necessary yet exasperating due to its 11:30-12:00 PM scheduling; something by which all inmates measure the passage of time.

Depending on how far you are from the first few cells you sit up with some degree of alacrity, hop to the floor, and remove your chones while standing behind the footboard of the bottom bunk. You pull off your bedclothes, pausing to untie the sheet covering the mattress, then flip the mattress up against the wall. After piling sheet, blanket, etc. at one end of the bunk you pull out your box and begin to arrange its contents - or simply dump it - at the other end (if you've been incarcerated for more than a month or two, this takes a while). Then you wait for the fuzz.

Bubble Burst

Last week, having finally made the gut-wrenching decision to finally sell the first edition For Whom the Bell Tolls I wrote about in a previous post (bought for two dollars, worth 5200, etc., etc...), I journeyed downtown, stopping at Ken Sanders Rare Books on the chance that they might quote me a higher price than Sam Weller's. I waited in the entrance for the proprietor, but when Mr. Sanders made his appearance he immediately dashed my hopes, shaking his head and telling me that this was a Book of the Month Club edition, rather than the actual first printing from Scribner's. He told me that if it retained its dust jacket it might fetch 50-80 dollars but without is not worth more than ten. Slightly panicking but still calm, I left the shop figuring that, as Weller's had quoted me the original estimate, I still might be able to pick up a few grand there. I hurried the two blocks west and headed straight for the used-book buyer. The man I'd spoken with previously, to my chagrin, wasn't in and a rather stodgy woman walked up to the desk. A few head-shakes and broken dreams later I was back on the street, book in hand.

The funny thing is I'm still debating whether to sell the book or not. Part of me wants to simply be rid of it and its depressing daily reminder of my credulity, but the rest of me argues that it was still a great find, and two dollar Hemingways don't fall out of the sky. As I wrote weeks ago, for good or ill it will probably remain on my shelf. But, with my five-thousand dollar insurance option and great thrift-store find story nullified, the only consolation I take from this episode is that no stray deviant blog reader (or former cellmate) will break into my house to steal the book. Small potatoes indeed.

On Beauty

I read lots of books. And most of them I like. But yesterday I finished reading On Beauty by Zadie Smith, and it gave me the most enjoyment I have had reading in a long time, and I recommend it to anyone looking for a book that is both meaningful and affecting.

The main premise of the book is relatively straightforward - portraying the ways in which the Belsey family (Howard, Kiki, and children: Jerome, Zora, and Levi) deal with the affair Howard had shortly before the novel begins. This is the common thread that runs through the novel, and Smith delves fearlessly into describing the some of the most complex (and often contradictory) emotions that accompany such situations. At the same time she pursues the each main character, and some others, down developmental paths that, while often unusual, are always well-established and very relatable, very human. And precisely because of this you are able to sympathize with all the main characters to some degree, which is the main reason the novel has such a real feel to it. She presents all these separate and intermingling storylines in such a way that, instead of making the novel seem hopelessly tangential, draw the plot together and give it a vibrancy it wouldn't have without such expostition. Race, politics, religion, academia, gender identity, love/lust, betrayal, expectation, even benign Oedipus/Electra complexes are dealt with deftly without drawing too much attention to the fact they're being dealt with or preaching an overriding message. And that's where the real strength of the novel lies. One of the most important factors in creating worthwhile fiction is what you don't write, and Smith is able to paint beautiful pictures without extraneous words.

Basketball

Tonight I played in a Mormon 'ward ball' basketball game. Though not technically a member of the religion anymore the rules (and need for participants) are loose enought to allow anyone who musters the energy to show up at the gym to play. I didn't play particularly well but we still won, and I'm presently basking in the glow a win brings - along with the endorphin high. By no means am I a 'jock,' but I really love sports and all they give us; I just don't understand why do many 'intellectuals' deride them as something that is childish and beneath them. Don't misread where I'm going with this; I'm not about to launch into an anti-intellectual tirade as I consider myself rather intellectual, but some of the most admirable human traits are found in sports -especially team sports. In these, unselfishness, dedication, and sacrifice - not to mention the odd pairing of humility and self-confidence - are necessary for success. Why denigrate such practices simply because they don't involve analytical cerebral activity you think is worth pursuing (which they do - just a more applicable analysis than is typical)?

I apologize to those who will read this blog. It's extremely random, not very relatable to most things in our daily lives, and short. But I'm feeling eerily content with my life right now, and it's the only thing I could think to write about. I promise that more meaningful posts will come, just give it time and realize that there is worth and beauty in even the most seemingly mundane things we do.

Hope can be a Campaign Platform

Recently a good friend of mine said (in reference to Barack Obama's presidential bid), "I'm sorry, but 'hope' isn't a viable campaign platform." At the time I felt that statement held a lot of truth, that there wasn't as much substance behind all the warm and fuzzy rhetoric coming from Obama's camp -though I still supported him- as from some of the other candidates. I was confident Clinton would be the next president - still am to some degree - and was rather content in reflecting on that prediction. I still think she would far outperform any of the Republican candidates, but I now find myself becoming severely depressed at the thought that anyone but Obama will take the next Oath of Office.

I'm a fairly big political geek and read various blogs regularly, but normally forgo reading the incredibly shallow and short-sighted comments that follow each. Ironically it was in one of these comments that I read the most relevant and revelatory political analogy of the current race. The analogy likened the current (at the time) Democratic candidates to the three who were struggling for the nomination in 1968: Hubert Humphrey, Bobby Kennedy, and Eugene McCarthy. The sheer aptness of this statement bowled me over. Clinton, like Humphrey, is clearly the establishment candidate who - though undoubtedly well-meaning - would basically kowtow to special interests and be only marginally more progressive than the Republican candidate. Edwards, like McCarthy, is a man with undeniable integrity and impressive progressive credentials, but who lacks both the charisma and the innate campaigning instinct to overcome a varied, chimerical opposition. Obama is the closest thing we have to Bobby Kennedy, whom many people think was even more politically gifted than his older brother.

I'm supporting Barack Obama because, as cliched as it sounds, he's exactly what this country needs right now. He probably won't be able to end all the petty meanness and anger that are everpresent in Washington, but he's the one who has the best chance of making America a country to be proud of again. This election isn't about black or white, male or female, republican or democrat; it is about hope for a better tomorrow. Let's get there together.

VOTE

What I Love About Mormonism

As an apostacized (ex) Mormon, there are many things about the LDS faith that I dislike and much I disagree with. But, while those may appear in other posts from time to time, here are some of the things about the religion and culture I appreciate the most:

I love the practice of referring to other members as "Brother" and "Sister." Even if there is no god, no afterlife we are all still members of the same body of humanity. Such forms of address, I feel, are a beautiful reminder of the commonality of our experience with life and the mutual respect we should have for one another.

I love the fact that most Mormons are respectful of others' beliefs and are not aggressive about imposing their faith on others. There are many exceptions, especially here in Utah where it's easy to adopt an "us versus them" mentality, but in my experience (leaving the Church, going to jail, etc.) my family and neighbors - predominantly LDS - have been far more concerned about letting me know they love me than trying to correct my errors in belief.

I love the fact that Mormonism has a lay clergy. While this often leads to unpredictable, humorous, and sometimes offensive and ignorant sermons, it also ensures that members have an active interest in Church policy, doctrine, and affairs. This thread of participation binds everyone together and is conducive to feelings of brotherhood and empathy.

Again, I'm not officially a Mormon anymore, and for all the good there is a lot of bad. But from time to time I feel a need to assert its positive aspects - as much for my benefit as others'. Because, for better or worse, I am still a cultural mormon and will probably be for the remainder of my life.

Ode to Escapism

I'm bitching out of writing a blog entry tonight. I worked ten hours on the phones today, then went to watch a Sundance flick I really wanted to see only to be turned away right before our wait list numbers were called. I'm feeling kind of bummed and listless. I promise I'll write something meaningful -at least to me- tomorrow, but for now here's my all time favorite drinking quote. From The Grapes of Wrath by Steinbeck:

And always, if he had a little money, a man could get drunk. The hard edges gone, and the warmth. Then there was no loneliness, for a man could people his brain with friends, and he could find his enemies and destroy them. Sitting in a ditch, the earth grew soft under him. Failures dulled and the future was no threat. And hunger did not skulk about, but the world was soft and easy, and a man could reach the place he started for. Death was a friend, and sleep was death's brother. The old times came back--a girl with pretty feet, who danced one time at home--a horse--a long time ago. A horse and a saddle. And the leather was carved. When was that? Ought to find a girl to talk to. That's nice. Might lay with her, too. But warm here. And the stars down so close, and sadness and pleasure so close together, really the same thing. Like to stay drunk all the time. Who says it's bad? Who dares to say it's bad? Preachers--but they got their own kinda drunkenness. Thin, barren women, but they're too miserable to know. Reformers--but they don't bite deep enough into living to know. No--the stars are close and dear and I have joined the brotherhood of the worlds. And everything's holy--everything, even me.

It's Been a While

My last blog post was almost a week and a half ago. And, for someone who set out to post at least three times per week- if not daily, that fact is an all too obvious (and depressing) reminder that I am still one of the world's elite procrastinators. While I was in jail I constantly lamented all the time I wasted prior to my arrest and just as constantly fantasized about all I would accomplish once free- because I now truly knew the value of maximizing one's time. Writing my book, learning French- then Russian, earning a post-graduate degree (maybe I should focus on the Bachelor's first?), and paying off my credit card debt would all come simply as my life wouldn't revolve around pot anymore. My perfect world would nearly effortlessly materialize and I would stand as a shining example of the (not so) Little Felon that Could.

Ahh...pipe dreams. Formed in the crucible of jail-cell introspection. Captivity forces such a drastic alteration of every aspect of your life that it's easy to imagine, rather know, that during your incarceration all your bad habits have magically disappeared, never to trouble you again. It's true that I haven't been tempted to smoke pot since being freed, but self-congratulation on that point seems hollow as I now spend most my former pot money on books and booze. Books aren't a bad investment, but the fact that I've purchased more of them than I have written pages is telling. For a would-be writer it's a sign that the 'would-be' may well always be there. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.

Lewis Sparks Uproar with Veiled Christian Messages

C.S. Lewis, the acclaimed author of the children's fiction series The Chronicles of Narnia, has provoked an avalanche of criticism after it became known that the 7-part series, particularly The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (Book Two), contains many similarities to the biblical story of Jesus and is construed by many as an allegorical interpretation of his crucifixion and resurrection. Outrage on the part of the fundamentalist secular community peaked when it was revealed that Lewis has previously spoken of writing the books with the intent to: "Bring children to Christ, and kill the idea of a benevolent, non-dogmatic human community in the minds of children."

Calling the books, "Christianity for kids," Phil Donahue, president of the American Association of Atheistic and Agnostic Secular Humanists (AAAASH), was one of the first to publicly denounce them. "What Mr. Lewis is trying to do is slip these dangerous Christian themes of love, forgiveness, and redemption past trusting parents and into the minds of our innocent children. Most parents will simply read the synopsis on the back and think, 'Oh, adventure stories about good lions and evil witches. Those seem pretty harmless.' That's precisely why these books are so evil- and threatening. All our lives we have tried to instill in our children a strong sense of belief in the fact that when we die we will end up in the ground as nothing more than worm-food. But Lewis is pushing responsible parents aside and directly trying to pervert the faith of the most easily swayed. The faith of innocent kids! This guy makes me sick," Donahue said in a joint press-conference with Nonbelievers UNITE!

Rather than back away from the stances that make him so controversial, Lewis has only reiterated his positions, claiming that he is "trying to save all the young ones from their parents' stupidity and deception," as well as prevent them from enduring an eternity "burning in hellfire." In a recent press release he stated that, "Christ is our redeemer, and I'm not going to shy away from proclaiming His gospel simply because some skittish parents are afraid their bubble of falsehoods will be burst and the brainwashed children will finally be exposed to truth."

Public school districts nationwide have sent out letters warning parents that the Narnia series may contain messages they may not want exposed to their children, fueling the controversy. Dianne Schiulte, Superintendent of Schools in Webb County, Texas put it this way, "It's not like we're telling parents not to let their children read Christian-themed books, which would be unconstitutional. We simply realize that most of the children in our schools come from non-religious families and they won't know how to put these ideas in their proper context- namely, hysterical nonsense. We live in a century when most people are aware that Christianity has been disproved time and time again. But most children don't know this. It's our duty to let parents know of objectionable materials aimed at young children that they should be aware of."

Whether innocuous children's fiction or a subtle ad campaign for Christianity, these books aren't likely to fade into obscurity anytime soon. Sales of the Narnia series are through the roof and many of AAAASH's critics think the association has much to do with that. "Prudish busybodies," said an anonymous source at Lewis's publicity agency. "Although controversy definitely sells more books." But Donahue rejects any suggestion that all this publicity will garner support- intellectual or financial- for Lewis. "Let's not forget that Lewis has called his books 'a repudiation of His Dark Materials' (Philip Pullman's beloved classic children's novels). This man must be stopped."

Say 'Yes' to Pollsters

Recently Huffington Post has been my favorite political website. They generally have a wide range of unbiased political coverage as well as dozens of progressive blogs. But I must take exception to a recent post by the site's founder, Arianna Huffington.

In a post entitled Say No to Pollsters Ms. Huffington takes the position that political pollsters are destroying civic dialogue in this country, as well as creating a culture in which pols pander to those likely to answer political surveys over the phone- all for the "buzz of a bump in the polls." She then drives her argument home by claiming that, since these surveys often have a participation rate of only 25% ("abysmally low") of the eligible voting public, they certainly aren't an honest representation of how things will go come election day. "Wow!" you say. "Only 25%. That's not representative at all."

But, while it sounds "abysmally low," 25% isn't far below the voter turnout rate for many elections. And, because the people who are most responsive to telephone polls are the people most likely to vote, it generally does provide an accurate cross-section of voter sentiment. I have worked for a polling firm (Dan Jones and Associates) since 2002, and our pre-election results have almost never been wrong. Granted this is Utah, so most races aren't that close, but there have been some- the SLC mayoral race of 2003, for example. To ensure accuracy we even (at our expense) run our own surveys alongside those commissioned. The New Hampshire pollsters have taken a lot of flak, maybe deservedly so, but the fact that so many of the maligned Democratic Primary polls were taken from Friday 1/4-Monday 1/7 is meaningful. The response percentage of calls made is almost always higher on the first couple days of a poll than the last couple, so most of those polls were likely conducted in the immediate afterglow of Obama's Iowa win. And, because there's no reliable algorithm to factor in 'momentum,' Barak's Fri/Sat votes are no less meaningful to the final tally than Hillary's Sun/Mon votes- when she must have been bringing in a much higher percentage.

Polls certainly aren't infallible; no one's making that claim. But the reason the media and politicians buy into their results so much is simply because there isn't a more effective way of gauging public opinion. Huffington claims that, by hanging up on pollsters, "we can force our leaders to start thinking for themselves again." But weren't they put in office to listen to what we have to say? And haven't we had enough (at least 8 years worth) of politicians thinking too much for themselves? Give pollsters your opinions (assuming it's not a blatant push poll), get your voice heard, then vote.