And by "shul" I don't mean synagogue.
It cracks me up how people who feel a bit important put an obstreperous confidentiality notice in their e-mail signature. Either they think people read bottom to top, or they blindly assume the cocky paragraph protects them.
Personally, I try to grace people with a creative e-mail. If it is misdirected, I want the recipient to enjoy the communique from erroneous punk. If feeling sassy, I put this in my signature line:
COMPETENCY NOTICE: This electronic communication is intended soulfully for the use of the individual or entity to whom it is addressed and may contain information which to read would be your privilege, which is competent and which may be exempt from disposal due to insipidity under applicable law. If you have received this communication in error, please feel free to delectate others and distribute the original message. Please gratify the sender by e-mail at the address shown. Thank you for your competence.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Vanity foul
I was reading along in my favorite theologian/historian/philologist/bishop/awesome dude, and his juxtaposition of "vanity" and "futility" was enlightening.
I'm used to hearing an Old English rendering of Ecclesiastes: "Vanity! Vanity! Everything is vanity!" Falling on today's ears, that means self-absorption and my favorite line, "I thank God I am not like other men . . ." But the root of "vanity" is "vain." Now the previous lines definitely describe vain people. But there's also the meaning of "Your resistance will be in vain! Prepare to be assimilated!"
Recent commentators have preferred to translate "Vanity!" in Ecclesiastes as "vapor." Futility, vapor, vanity/doing things in vain; they all go nicely together. But how did "vanity" in the magazine rack come to mean not "Futility Fair"?
I propose it was moralism from certain concerned parents. In their pious judgment, being too interested in oneself, one's social standing, and one's appearance was an exercise in futility. They taught their children to not "chase after the wind" (more Ecclesiastes; I'm curious why I get the feeling in that work that the Teacher wasn't emphasizing self-absorption but merely activity). Later, people's vain (futile) actions became metonymous with their conceited attitudes. Now "vanity" is understood almost exclusively as pertaining to attitudes, but the root still deals with both actions and their not-necessarily-related attitudes. I don't have to be conceited to behave in a futile way. Stupidity and laziness do just fine.
I'm used to hearing an Old English rendering of Ecclesiastes: "Vanity! Vanity! Everything is vanity!" Falling on today's ears, that means self-absorption and my favorite line, "I thank God I am not like other men . . ." But the root of "vanity" is "vain." Now the previous lines definitely describe vain people. But there's also the meaning of "Your resistance will be in vain! Prepare to be assimilated!"
Recent commentators have preferred to translate "Vanity!" in Ecclesiastes as "vapor." Futility, vapor, vanity/doing things in vain; they all go nicely together. But how did "vanity" in the magazine rack come to mean not "Futility Fair"?
I propose it was moralism from certain concerned parents. In their pious judgment, being too interested in oneself, one's social standing, and one's appearance was an exercise in futility. They taught their children to not "chase after the wind" (more Ecclesiastes; I'm curious why I get the feeling in that work that the Teacher wasn't emphasizing self-absorption but merely activity). Later, people's vain (futile) actions became metonymous with their conceited attitudes. Now "vanity" is understood almost exclusively as pertaining to attitudes, but the root still deals with both actions and their not-necessarily-related attitudes. I don't have to be conceited to behave in a futile way. Stupidity and laziness do just fine.
Very
A wise mentor always told me I should never use the word "very" if I wanted to write well. I didn't really believe him until I ran across two uses in different manuscripts. One said that something was "very critical." I'm not actually sure if you can get more critical than critical. The other was "very fundamental." It doesn't get more fundamental than fundamental.
I confess I still use "very" very liberally. Augh! I did it again! I'm becoming more aware of how the word cheapens other words. Particularly in American culture, we tend to superlativize like crazy. So once "critical" or "fundamental" isn't enough anymore, we add "very." A way to avoid overusing the word is to ask, "Does the word being described carry the meaning of 'very' in it already?" Then ask whether the word being described is strong enough. You may be able to substitute a word that's more colorful anyway, and your writing just got better.
I confess I still use "very" very liberally. Augh! I did it again! I'm becoming more aware of how the word cheapens other words. Particularly in American culture, we tend to superlativize like crazy. So once "critical" or "fundamental" isn't enough anymore, we add "very." A way to avoid overusing the word is to ask, "Does the word being described carry the meaning of 'very' in it already?" Then ask whether the word being described is strong enough. You may be able to substitute a word that's more colorful anyway, and your writing just got better.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Sin
Posted as a comment on a friend's blog, but I thought it was a blog post in itself:
Yeah, I'm a sinner. My recent definition of sin is (although I think I shared it with your crew already) "grasping for control beyond the gifts, grace, and sphere of influence given one by God." We are never meant to be able to control how people feel (that nails me as a codependent) or if we've hired them to work for us because they're capable people, we shouldn't control how they work. Direction? Yes. Doing their job for them? Sin. Yes, micromanagement is a sin. It dehumanizes a person to tell them you trust them to create cultural goods, whether hamburgers or products or processes, but then to override their gifts and creativity. Control is at the heart of all that's called sin. Idolatry is saying, "I'll trust you to bring me what I need, but I'll tell you what to bring me." No trust. Only control.
This makes me call most of the "saints" around me sinners, recognizing that we have a whole lot in common.
Yeah, I'm a sinner. My recent definition of sin is (although I think I shared it with your crew already) "grasping for control beyond the gifts, grace, and sphere of influence given one by God." We are never meant to be able to control how people feel (that nails me as a codependent) or if we've hired them to work for us because they're capable people, we shouldn't control how they work. Direction? Yes. Doing their job for them? Sin. Yes, micromanagement is a sin. It dehumanizes a person to tell them you trust them to create cultural goods, whether hamburgers or products or processes, but then to override their gifts and creativity. Control is at the heart of all that's called sin. Idolatry is saying, "I'll trust you to bring me what I need, but I'll tell you what to bring me." No trust. Only control.
This makes me call most of the "saints" around me sinners, recognizing that we have a whole lot in common.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Mmmmmarketing!
My wife and I took a comfort food break at McDonald's, and I'm amazed at the thinly veiled, yet clever marketing.
The fries told me that I love them so much because McDonald's uses the highest quality potatoes. I suppose this means there's a secret potato farm that other restaurants only dream of locating. Could it be what they fry those excellent potatoes in?
The cup tells me that there's a natural correlation between my enjoyment of the fries and my desire for a cold soft drink. The Colonel's been accused of putting an addictive chemical in his chicken, but could it be that McDonald is doing this with the fries? *Once they taste the fries, they'll be compelled to pay way too much for a drink . . . *
The burger wrapper said the made the burger just for me. I did order it plain, but at no point in the process did anyone think of me.
All of this drivel is meant to make me feel good—and they make millions off of millions of people—but they must be praying I don't think while I enjoy their addictively excellent potatoes.
The fries told me that I love them so much because McDonald's uses the highest quality potatoes. I suppose this means there's a secret potato farm that other restaurants only dream of locating. Could it be what they fry those excellent potatoes in?
The cup tells me that there's a natural correlation between my enjoyment of the fries and my desire for a cold soft drink. The Colonel's been accused of putting an addictive chemical in his chicken, but could it be that McDonald is doing this with the fries? *Once they taste the fries, they'll be compelled to pay way too much for a drink . . . *
The burger wrapper said the made the burger just for me. I did order it plain, but at no point in the process did anyone think of me.
All of this drivel is meant to make me feel good—and they make millions off of millions of people—but they must be praying I don't think while I enjoy their addictively excellent potatoes.
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