Stan Taylor

Yesterday, I browsed in Barnes and Noble, and noticed that they now have a ‘Religious Fiction’ section (thanks to this, I assume)–located, of course, next to ‘Christian Inspriation’, not near real fiction.

This short editorial in The Christian Century argues, with sound evidence, that the best way to reduce the incidence of abortion is to make it legal and safe:

The countries with the lowest abortion rates in the world are Belgium and the Netherlands, where abortion is legal and covered by national health insurance…
Judging by abortion rates, one would have to conclude that what Bush (following Pope John Paul II) calls a “culture of life” is actually flourishing more in Western Europe than in Latin America. And there are reasons for this. Belgian and Dutch women are well educated about contraceptives and have access to them…The Belgians and Dutch can also rely on generous government provisions for health care, child care and parental leave, which means raising a child is a more sustainable prospect…
Such evidence suggests that most people will choose against abortion if other ways of regulating family size are available. They will also choose against abortion if they have some confidence that the community around them will help them with medical care and child care.

A McSweeney’s list

With the help of my geeky co-workers (and Carolyn, who’s not a geek), I made this valentine for Katie yesterday.
The guy on the end is our graphic designer and a known trickster. He copied my photos, replaced ‘Katie” on the last photo with his wife’s name (and he has the graphics skills to make it look good), and made a valentine for her. He did the same for another coworker (I guess ‘imitation is the highest form of flattery’ should apply).

A recent thread on Ask Metafilter asked members about experiences that changed them. It’s a long, and truly amazing, set of stories. But as a parent, the ones that struck me the most were about children whose lives had been changed by rather mundane careless words and acts by parents and other adults. Here are some of those stories:

12 years old, just beginning to take those “career aptitude inventory” tests they give you, I share with my father my interest in one day becoming a computer engineer. His response, “How the hell are you ever gonna help anybody doing that!?” leads me to completely devalue my own interests and goals for the next four years or so in favor of what I think other people think I should be doing. Later I get my head on straight and realize he was being a complete jerk, but the damage is still done. I still base my feelings of self-worth on the opinions of others (even though I know that’s what I’m doing).

The Bad – I was overweight in middle school and junior high and was teased mercilessly by several other students. I suffered in silence for a year and a half before finally breaking down and telling my parents that I couldn’t take it anymrore. Their response? Ignore it and it will go away. It was bullshit. I knew it. They knew it. I realized then that they weren’t going to help me and I was going to have to deal with it on my own. Which I couldn’t. I became shy and bitter and distrustful. I needed my parents to help me and they refused. It took me a long time to get over that. I’m not really sure I am completely over it, to be frank.

One time when I was 7 or 8 my dad was supposed to pick me up after school. I waited until dark and he never showed up. I knew that he and my mother had forgotten about me. I started walking home when it got dark. While waiting for somebody to come get me I decided that I was alone in the world and couldn’t even trust my parents. I’ve been basically distrustful of people and an introverted loner ever since.

During the summer between 7th and 8th grade, I gained some weight sitting around and making my first webpage (another formative experience!). My mom approached me about the issue, made it feel less like something I should be ashamed of and more like a health issue, and I started exercising and losing the weight. A year or so later, I had returned to a more healthy size. One day, walking through the kitchen, my dad looked me up and down and said “Wow, Bridget, beneath all that weight there’s a pretty girl!” and in one moment destroyed the healthy attitude my mom had tried to give me. My little mind swum with all the implications of what he had said – My mom hadn’t mentioned anything at all about my not being pretty! I didn’t know I had to be pretty for my dad to show me a moment’s worth of genuine affection! Maybe that’s how it is with all men!

These stories make me realize that everything I do as a parent can have profound effects on my children. Sobering.

From the Sydney Herald:

A rare – and dead – oarfish washed up at City Beach in Perth yesterday, proving more than a handful for Troy Coward, Andy Mole and Axel Strauss (pictured).
The serpent-like animal was found six metres offshore, bringing to at least six the number of oarfish that have washed up on the West Australian coast in recent months. Prefering to live in the depths of the ocean they have only been known to come to the surface when sick or dying and have rarely been seen alive.
Living in the world’s warmer oceans, it feeds on plankton and is harmless to humans. The longest bony fish in the sea, it grows up to nine metres long with a bright red crest that runs the entire length of its body.
It is probably the creature that sparked “sea serpent” legends following sightings by ancient mariners.

It’s the Monday after the Super Bowl, and I have yet to overhear a single conversation among the technical staff about football.

Oriental Trading Comany is selling Kosher Easter Eggs (click on image for larger version):

William Saletan offers a well written recap of the president’s State of the Union address:

Tonight’s State of the Union Address demonstrated again that President Bush is a man of very clear principles. He’s just flexible about when to apply them.
He’s for historical reflection when a Democratic program has lost the context that initially justified it: “Social Security was created decades ago, for a very different era. In those days, people did not live as long. Benefits were much lower … Our society has changed in ways the founders of Social Security could not have foreseen.”
He’s against historical reflection when a Republican war has lost the context that initially justified it. All that matters is the new rationale: “The victory of freedom in Iraq will strengthen a new ally in the war on terror, inspire democratic reformers from Damascus to Tehran, bring more hope and progress to a troubled region …”
He’s against scaring you if you’re 55: “I have a message for every American who is 55 or older: Do not let anyone mislead you. For you, the Social Security system will not change.”
In the next sentence, he’s for scaring you if you’re below 55: “For younger workers, the Social Security system has serious problems that will grow worse with time. … We must pass reforms that solve the financial problems.”

Now that I’ve quoted half the article, you might as well go read the other half.

The author of Body and Soul expresses my feelings exactly:

Every time I go to Best Buy I resolve never to return. I can’t think straight with a wall of big screen TVs flashing a dozen identical football games at me, while hip hop hits me from the left, and Merle Haggard twangs me from the right. I know that doesn’t bother everybody, but I have this old-fashioned attachment to my brain cells, and I miss them when they go away.
I walked in the front door just as a voice was repeating over a microphone, “Home theater, turn down your volume. Home theater, please turn down your volume.”
If they did, I didn’t notice the difference. My knees go all jellyish and I almost start to cry under the impact of the noise. I would leave if I didn’t need to get a particular, repeatedly (subtly, but repeatedly) requested electronic birthday present before Friday, and if there were any place else in town — any quieter place — to get it.
So I’m stuck in Hell. Or Purgatory anyway, since as soon as I perform my appointed task — please, God, let me find it quickly — I can leave.
I sometimes think the atmosphere in Best Buy serves an effective commercial purpose. I can’t think in that atmosphere. I just want to grab whatever I see that vaguely resembles what I’m looking for, at whatever price they want to charge — really, I’ll pay extra, just let me out of here — and run.
Call me cynical, but I suspect encouraging mindless acquisition is not to the store’s disadvantage.