And it starts...again

So I've been back all of four days now and already tensions flare in my family OTL (<-- man keeling over on hands/knees. Look carefully).

My father's temper is a force to be reckoned with (or, at all costs, evaded, but that hardly ever happens), and one never knows when it will go off. Today, it went off for the most mundane of reasons. For my father, everything he does has a logic to it, even if that logic is wholly based in irrationality and spontaneity of the moment. And though I understood why he got upset this time, the fact of the matter is, he is just plain and simple in the wrong.

It's ironic because currently I just finished reading a historical novel about Henry VII and his involvement with his 4th and 5th wives-- how he treated them, mistreated them, discarded them, decapitated them all at his whim and folly. And the more I read the book, the more I could find similar traits in my father. Henry VII was most likely crazy, however, nearing the end of his lifetime, and perhaps that gives some indication of the state of my father's mentality (or lackthereof). It also offers immense insight into why he acts the way he is-- he thinks he is a king, entitled to whatever he wants, rooted in his past of always getting what he wants and never being denied, much like that of dear ole Henry's.

I used to think I was immune to whatever happened in my family. That no matter the struggle, I could detach myself from it emotionally, or at least prevent myself from become too emotionally wielded by the moment because I could see and understand why things happen the way they do. I could understand the sequence of thoughts that provoked my father's words and actions. Yet, lately, when I see how unnecessarily enraged my father becomes, how much more magnified it appears than in years past, and when I speak with my mother and feel her heart breaking under all the pressures and weight of having to deal with this every moment of her life, when I hear her quiet surrender of hope for change... I, too, become weary and I, too, begin to question whether change will come.

Whenever things broke out in my family, I would always turn to God, believing fully that He would listen and that He would change things. As I grow older, though, and become more accustomed to merely waiting out my father's anger, to suppressing the anger that consequently builds in my heart as a reaction to this witness of injustice and tyranny, I desire less and less to plead with God, as I have done for the past twenty or so years. My vision for a changed future becomes ever the more darker and blurred and my hopes of a new life for my family starts to dwindle. Will change really come? Can God change my father and my family? Maybe for other fathers, for other families, they were built of a foundation meant for change, of a malleable substance more sensitive to the moldings of our God than my father or family is built and made of. Perhaps, change for my family will never mean what it does for those who have experienced miracles and happy endings-- what if change just means a tailoring of everyone else's will to my father's, each and every second he wills it? What if that is all the change that our family can aspire to?

I know that's not true. I know God works miracles and just like Christ saved and redeemed us, so too will he save and redeem my family. The small seed of doubt never fails, however, to loom dangerously overhead fertile fields of faith...ready to be sowed by Satan when darkness hits... And I think more than fearing for a lack of change in my family, I fear for the presence of change-- negative change-- in my spiritual foundations and faith in God. Never have I ever felt so helpless and meaningless than I do in these moments. And the only times I ever question whether the Lord is lord over my family is during these times of difficulty, when the difficulties seem to never cease and it seems that they never will.

I need to pray... I always do. And why is it that it is only when I'm slapped so hard in the face and pricked in the heart by reality that I realize it... And subsequently ignore it after some time passes? I'm so selfish. My selfishness overtakes my spiritual duties to my family. Because if no one else in my family but me believes God can change all things-- and if I should be the one to lose that faith-- then who else is left?

Ender's game in action

In my class, we talked about the desensitizing aspects of such a technologically advanced "war" that America is waging right now on terrorism. In order to combat the new recruits' fear of engaging with the enemy, video games are now the new tool. It lets the soldiers experience war and combat before the fact and allows them practice with using the newer firearms and weapons that they would use out in the battlefields.

I just can't help thinking that this is completely like Ender's Game. When Orson Scott Card wrote that book, I'm not sure if he surmised that the ways of war would later be based on video game practice, but it seems to me that that is now what it has become. And then what are the implications of sensationalizing war in the context of mere video games? Does that not remove the soldiers' from their immediate experiences in the field? Doesn't this permit the blind, instinctive shooting of anything that moves, not realizing the true consequences?

It is true that instinct is necessary for survival on a war ground, but is instinct necessarily equated with a trigger-ready finger? Wouldn't this just teach basal instinctive skills than tactical survival strategies, which in the end results in "collateral damage" rooted in the perpetual fear of the battleground combined with the "kill them all" strategy of games like "Halo"? And if one, in the midst of battle, feels that s/he is in the middle of a video game, what does that say about the experience of war-- that it is surreal or that it is made surreal because of its link to video games? And if a soldier simultaneously is in fighting mode yet feels removed from the reality of the situation, doesn't that make war more dangerous as it weakens the idea of consequence and fatalities?

Yet even video games cannot prepare them for the true realities of war, as soldiers suffer from the guilty sentiments of killing innocent victims. Games are just that-- games. But war is not a game-- it is a combative engagement with the enemy that requires yes, the instinct to kill, but also the instinct to think fast and to strategize. War isn't fun, it's devastation all around as those who kill are forced to deal with their own emotional consequences and mental blocks of having killed other human beings, whether they are the enemy or not. When war becomes "normal"-- when the experience of taking another person's life is normalized-- that is where the real danger begins. Why would anyone want to constantly live in a war zone? And in so doing, what does that imply about the nature of the video game and its own implications in the desensitization of destruction?

The pregnant male

In 2008, much sensation ensued at the news of Thomas Beatie, the world's first pregnant male. A transgender and legally male, Thomas Beatie became the first male to conceive, having kept his female reproductive organs in the hopes of one day bearing children. When his wife was found to be infertile, Beatie decided to have the child (and two more) himself.

Thomas Beatie, however, is not the only pregnant male; Lee Mingwei is, too. According to the website malepregnancy.com, created in 2001, Lee Mingwei is not a transgender but male by birth who has the ability to carry children in his abdomen area. In fact, however, this entire website, with such detailed information and an entire range of evidence to support the claim of a pregnant Lee, including a documentary featuring the pregnant male is an art project conceived by artists Lee Mingwei and Virgil Wong.

It can be assumed that the basis of this project is to challenge the notion of "What does it mean to be female? What does it mean to be male?", as Lee states several times throughout the excerpt of the featured documentary. Lee is countering the societal claims of a woman as the childbearer, challenging the idea that it is the woman's duty to give birth and that men can do it, too. It leads one to ponder the issues presented by societal norms of gender roles, obligations, and expectations and the pressures of responding and reacting to these confined categories.

One could applaud Lee and Wong for undertaking such a controversial project that forces the viewer to reflect on these issues, yet, in watching the documentary and going through the site, I couldn't help but think that this project, as much as it wants to challenge the viewer's notion of norms, actually reinforces it, as well. For instance, consider the project in its simplest terms: a pregnant male. Though this sensation does shake the foundations of long accepted biological and sociological understanding, it also presents another contentious layer-- that of the dominant, all capable male. In taking a strictly female ability and transferring it to the powers of a man, it undermines the woman's uniqueness and own social importance, especially if in social terms, the ability to bear children is the defining difference between a male and a female. It lends the idea that women are no longer necessary for life and that men can have the total dominance and power not only in leading life, but creating it, as well.

In this way, Lee strengthens our ideas of what is socially acceptable by putting such an emphasis on the sensationalism of such a phenomena: a pregnant male. In constantly highlighting the uniqueness of the situation, it reminds us yet again that of course women are the childbearers. This point is especially discernible when, during a checkup with the doctor, he jokes, "Do women feel like this, too? Or is it because I'm a man?", which yet again focuses the attention on the natural capabilities of the woman as childbearer-- i.e. because woman is made by nature to carry a child, she is also made by nature to endure the hardships that go with it; thus, should a man be placed in that same position, because he lacks the natural capabilities to adjust to a pregnant lifestyle, he would have a hard time; as such, it is only natural that women are those who bear children.

As I am exposed to more things that attempt to be controversial or present things out of the norm, I keep realizing that the effect has two sides: one is the instant, reactionary effect whereupon the viewer at the moment of the encounter is shocked, awed, inspired, repulsed, etc and does come to question (although perhaps to a small degree) what we consider to be the norm; the second is the same reactionary effect of shock, awe, inspiration, repulsion, etc that does the opposite-- it reinforces and strengthens our existing notions of the normal and acceptable. The latter reaction usually follows the former.

Why is this? Why is it that a work of art that is "controversial" actually reinforces our current ideals than revolutionizes or shakes the foundations of our perception of the "right?" Maybe it's because so much emphasis is put on the uniqueness of the situation, so much sensationalism exudes from the controversial topic itself that the artwork becomes instead an embodiment of the "surreal, different, unacceptable". Because of the deeply infused contentious nature of the subject, the art does not place itself in the world of the "normal" as being "normal" but places itself in the world of the "normal" as being "abnormal" and therefore "socially unacceptable". But then this hypothesis poses the counter question of whether presenting something out of the norm as normal undermines its abnormality and thus, its importance in generating discussion and change. Personally, I don't think that the latter would pose too many problems. It can go either way: either convince the viewer of the normality of the abnormal situation and change their views on what "normal" is or incur a reaction similar to that of the first hypothesis, where we perceive as being portrayed as normal yet we know it is not and thus continue to support our existing notions of the norms.

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Taken from Arts, Ink

Dinner thoughts

Katie called me to dinner with something on her mind, it was clear. Under the guise of the words "catching up" was a subtle hidden overlay of a deeper agenda-- she wanted to talk about something specific.

Not having talked to her one-on-one for a while, this intimate dinner was a warm welcome. We caught up on various aspects of our lives, brief gossip (if one calls it that), and other chitchat. And then she asked me this-- "So...why are you getting baptized?" And there it was, that one thing she had meant to talk about all along.

She continued: "Because it seems really random to me, especially with everything you had said at the beginning of the semester, about how you felt about church and stuff... So why are you doing this all of a sudden?" *sigh* It was a question that was not unexpected, though no one had really asked me about it. Everyone else just responded with "Oh? Okay" or "Congratulations" etc. Leave it to Katie to be the one to ask.

Then I had to explain myself. But it was a good question. Why am I getting baptized? What's the point? Jesus said we don't even need to be physically, literally cleansed with baptismal waters as long as we were baptized with the Holy Spirit in our faith and acceptance of Him. So what's the point? Why partake in this highly ceremonious ritual of a spectacle?

Hmm. I guess... I had been thinking of baptism for a while-- ever since Fall of last year. Should I do it? Not do it? Is it worth it? Is this what I want to do or am I just conforming to the standards?-- these were all questions that constantly ran through my mind on this subject. Fall '09 came and went, with little good emotional results, it seemed, so there went that opportunity. I was in Paris for five months, thereby missing the next chance at baptism. And of course, there was this past Fall-- what was my excuse for missing that month?

Bitterness. In this case, with Katie, I had to distinguish my bitterness at the church and its members between bitterness at God and his faithfulness. To me-- and hopefully, to everyone-- the two are mutually exclusive, although to some degree, related, I would imagine. However, the fact that I was highly discontent with Harvest and some of its more contentious practices being as it was, that did not mean that I faltered in my faith with God because of that. Well, I mean, not to a hideous degree. During that time, I began to realize the difference between the eternal kingdom of God and the mortally flawed institution of the church; and I came to accept that no matter how holy the church should be, it will never be completely as such, for it is made up of human beings who are, by nature, bound to make mistakes and be flawed. I may not always love the church, but my love for God remains nonetheless. And why shouldn't I want to tell the world? It's nothing shameful to speak of my beliefs-- if I can continually talk about how much I love chocolate and how it serves me well, then why not about God?

How fitting that this baptism will take place in spring. A time of renewal, rebirth, remembrance-- pretty symbolic for a religious rite of passage.

Beauty in sadness

We see the beauty in happy things-- but there is beauty in sadness, too. A photo essay by Yves Marchand and Romaine Meffre captures the haunting beauty in Detroit's demise, as featured in this Time article.

This is Detroit Central Station. I've often stared at it as I passed by it in train rides and car trips, wanting to photograph it. There was something so inexplicably attractive about this building-- the essence of a grandeur that no longer exists, the ever-standing reminder of a lost era.

We see the beautiful in happiness, which is why we tend to ignore the beauty that exists in sadness, as well. An aching, haunting, mesmerizing kind of beauty that captures our hearts and makes them long-- for what, we don't know. But the more we seek the sunny side of things, the more we eschew the darker aspects of life. The more we shun sadness, the less we notice of it. We care not for crumbling buildings and broken windows-- we want high towering buildings of shiny stainless steel and bold reflective windows; we do not gaze upon rusting metals of old desk chairs and falling fluorescent lights-- we always cry out for more comfortable cushioned chairs, gleaming white boards stretching across walls; we would not attend a tour of a Spanish Gothic theater, caving in on itself, built at the height of the twenties-- we would rather watch football games from the newly built skyboxes of plastic and metal, placing ourselves well above the rest of the world.

We do not care for sadness. We do not care for eras lost. We do not care for the impoverished, the helpless, the struggling. We turn our heads from obviously crumbling, unsustainable infrastructures, children without proper education, cities without safety and stability. And as we do this-- as we try so hard to ignore all that is wrong with the world-- all that we see to be ugly, all that we think can never be beautiful-- we ignore those who desperately need attention and help. We do not care for them. Because we would prefer to view the beautiful things in life.

But here it is: there is beauty in sadness. So look deeply, think carefully, and act-- because if this is what Detroit is like in its "ugliness", then imagine how it once was and could be again, in all of its beautiful splendor.

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Taken from Arts, Ink

Oh, Tiger...

Just a thought: why does Tiger Woods have to apologize for his actions? Granted, he's not the most awesome, faithful man on the planet, but he's not alone. Why should he, a celebrity athlete, have to excuse himself for the mistakes and actions he commits in private? Because he's a public figure? Does being a public figure come with the automatic consent of that person to conform to certain societal standards and beliefs? That when Tiger makes a wrong move that society deems inappropriate, he would have to publicly ask for forgiveness when normal people who do much worse than him are not expected to abide by that same standard?

Of course, what Tiger did is totally not cool and he is not considered to be the nicest person on the planet. But... He's not the President, right? We didn't elect him to be in a certain position. He holds no explicit social contract with the world. So how come he has to endure his mistakes publicly and be forced to apologize to a world made up of a lot of people who could care less?

Maybe he is a role model for children. Maybe not. Even so, children have to learn sometime, don't they? That mythical, constructed heroes are just mere projections of great PR, and that even heroes often times fall. I guess that a formal apology would demonstrate the wrongness of Tiger's actions... But since what he did was so blatantly and loudly made public, doesn't that also show that it's not too bad to do these things-- to cheat, to lie-- since all you have to do in the end is apologize?

No one does anything for Valentine's, anyway, right?

Stupid holidays. Apart from the religious ones, what do they mean, anyway? Even religious holidays have lost their true significance. Jesus wasn't born on Christmas, guys-- we all know this. Christmas is, for the most part, just another commodified business industry. Thanksgiving? Let's all give thanks and eat a bunch of turkey to knock ourselves out. Passover? Totally passed over-- no one but the Jews celebrate it-- it's hardly recognized in our society. And Valentine's Day. What a joke. No one does anything anymore for it. Or maybe they do-- just buy a dozen roses, a box of chocolates and everyone is home free.

Or is that how it is? A guy in my Comm class today actually asked another girl about her Michael Kors watch, saying, "I want to get something like that for my girlfriend for Valentine's Day? Can I see yours?"

At that, all the girls kind of slacked their jaws. Seriously? He's getting his girlfriend a designer jewelry piece for Valentine's Day? Let me say this again-- some man is buying designer jewelry for his girlfriend as a Valentine's gift. WHO DOES THAT? WHO CELEBRATES VALENTINE'S DAY?!

Fine, all right. I'll admit it: I'm jealous. I'm not a person who likes to swoon, who likes to romanticize things, go all out and-- fine. I'll admit it, too: I do like those things. I do like the making a fancy dinner for two and setting up a candle-lit, table clothed covered meal. I like buying presents for each other on ridiculously commercialized holidays for couples. I like riding in gondolas on a moonlit river with the gondolier singing in the back (this would only be for a very brief period of time).

I'm just a little bit disappointed. I definitely don't want some uber romantic guy who tries to make me gag at every opportunity... Yet that's not to say I want someone who completely doesn't care, either. I guess when I talk about things like time management or priorities, I mean the seemingly little things like this that would, in actuality, mean a whole lot to me. Even if I don't say it. Especially if I don't say it. I'm not going to tell someone, "Oh, you should totally do something for Valentine's Day with me" because that's just rude and presumptuous and selfish. I'd like them to come up with these ideas on their own. Ideas like throwing a 21st birthday bash where people go crazy, where they send flowers randomly to let me know they're thinking of me (only very occasionally-- all the time would be icky), where they do take the time to think and realize how much I would enjoy even going for a stupid ten minute romantic walk.

I care. I may not say it, I may say that I don't, but I care. It's not the fact that someone can't or won't go, it's that they can't seem to recognize that it could mean even the smallest bit to me. What's up with that?

*sigh* How can I really be upset? I can't. Do I have the right? I cannot expect or assume that others will feel and think as I do. I cannot even state with certainty that these emotions that I experience are justified. It is highly possible that I'm being too selfish, self-obsessed, self-serving, self-promoting, self-righteous. If I want, I could just go find someone like that. Do I want to...? I just want the things, the people I do have to change. But how unfair is that? So unfair.

It's okay. It's really not a big deal. I mean... No one does anything for Valentine's, anyway, right?