Saturday, August 29, 2009
An awful joke
A kid walks into the kitchen just as his mom finishes carving the turkey for Thanksgiving dinner. When he sees the guts, he exclaims, "That's offal!"
Black Card
I saw a banner ad for Visa's Black Card. It talks about how exclusive it is and how great it will be for me.
There are three key selling features I see. One is the 24-hour concierge service. It says they will be there to help me with all my travel, leisure, and personal needs. Like my need for a psychiatrist, right? Concomitant with that is access to airport lounges (said access is not defined) and "luxury gifts." Oh, and the 1% cash back on purchases or ability to convert to points. Forgot that unique feature.
Another key feature is the material the black card is made from. It's not plastic. It's made with (not of) carbon, which is "guaranteed to get you noticed." By checkout employees and waitstaff? "Oh look! A credit card!"
The really key selling feature is how exclusive it is to be a Black Card holder. It is limited to 1% of U.S. residents. Where do I call? Now? I certainly want to be part of an exclusive club of 3.3 million people!
The most attractive part of the whole package is that it only costs $495 per year!
I see this appealing to a certain demographic. There will be a small class who finds it useful for the travel benefits, but I'm certain most of these cards will go to people who don't think they're unique enough. The allure of being exclusive and getting noticed is worth $495 a year.
There are three key selling features I see. One is the 24-hour concierge service. It says they will be there to help me with all my travel, leisure, and personal needs. Like my need for a psychiatrist, right? Concomitant with that is access to airport lounges (said access is not defined) and "luxury gifts." Oh, and the 1% cash back on purchases or ability to convert to points. Forgot that unique feature.
Another key feature is the material the black card is made from. It's not plastic. It's made with (not of) carbon, which is "guaranteed to get you noticed." By checkout employees and waitstaff? "Oh look! A credit card!"
The really key selling feature is how exclusive it is to be a Black Card holder. It is limited to 1% of U.S. residents. Where do I call? Now? I certainly want to be part of an exclusive club of 3.3 million people!
The most attractive part of the whole package is that it only costs $495 per year!
I see this appealing to a certain demographic. There will be a small class who finds it useful for the travel benefits, but I'm certain most of these cards will go to people who don't think they're unique enough. The allure of being exclusive and getting noticed is worth $495 a year.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Inclusive of friendliness
Upon the generous bestowal of a gift card (Thanks, Emmie!), Susan and I went to Olive Garden for dinner tonight. Oh, so yummy. In our usual (if infrequent) order, there is nothing I don't enjoy fully. The salad, breadsticks, steak gorgonzola or chicken alfredo pizza, and dessert are absolutely wonderful. But there is one thing that tops everything: zuppa toscana. It is a perfectly spiced white soup of potatoes, sausage, and greens.
Which brings me to my point. The waiter came to check if we needed anything and asked me, having just finished a bowl of soup, "Do we need another bowl of soup?" Susan noted after Ben had left, "No, we don't, but you do." I told her he was using the inclusive of friendliness.
In my Greek classes over the years I have enjoyed a number of specialty grammar designations such as this. In technical terms, I might document the usage this way: Subject uses first person plural inclusive pronoun metonymously for second person singular or plural exclusive (relative to the speaker) pronoun. The speaker used a grammatical construction that includes himself in order to ingratiate himself in an exclusive environment. An inclusive of friendliness.
Which brings me to my point. The waiter came to check if we needed anything and asked me, having just finished a bowl of soup, "Do we need another bowl of soup?" Susan noted after Ben had left, "No, we don't, but you do." I told her he was using the inclusive of friendliness.
In my Greek classes over the years I have enjoyed a number of specialty grammar designations such as this. In technical terms, I might document the usage this way: Subject uses first person plural inclusive pronoun metonymously for second person singular or plural exclusive (relative to the speaker) pronoun. The speaker used a grammatical construction that includes himself in order to ingratiate himself in an exclusive environment. An inclusive of friendliness.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
What kind of practices?
I often hear people talking about how critical it is to follow "best business practices." It's been under my skin for a while, but I really started thinking how awful the concept is last night.
I'm not sure if users of this phrase realize what happened with best business practices last year. They have nearly killed us. As long as profits continued to rise, people thought the companies must be doing something right. Remember that one time when Enron was so awesome? They may not have been using certifiable best accounting practices, but their auditors were still letting them pass. In general, they looked like an awesome company doing everything right.
That's another misuse of the phrase. I hear it used for anything related to how work gets done, from business processes to accounting to how long I take in the bathroom. Just kidding on that last one.
Another fallacy is that there is a monolithic "best" to be practiced. Who determines what is best? Is it what the business community seems to be doing at the time? Mmm, design by committee. Is there a best practices board? Who appointed them?
And for my angriest critique. Best business practices are stultifying, and they breed laziness. These are two sides of the same coin, but they each bear highlighting. This idea ensures there is no creativity. You don't sit around the table saying, "What's a creative solution?" You say, "What's everybody else who's smarter and better than me doing?" Users may not start this way, but this process ends in laziness. "Just tell me what to change." If you spend all your time fixated on best practices, you'll soon be left in the dust trying to catch up to what may or may not be best. Should these be called "fine enough for lazy follower practices"?
There's a cultural/linguistic thing going here. We've seen how "progress" joined the pantheon of American/Western ideals. Always gotta grow. More profits this year. Cut your expenses, unless you add profits and then some. More SKUs. More brochures. As was proven in this last year, unless you choose a sustainable growth path of a few percent per year in an established field, your company will be hurting badly at the next down cycle. So we're always looking to grow faster than we should. We're looking for the *best* way to do things. Whatever happened to "good business practices"? What's wrong with good? The comparative and superlative denigrate the old lowly "good," which could really mean "honest" or "sustainable."
God declared his creation "good," even "very good." He didn't call it "best," because he wanted his creatures to industriously and creatively steward his creation in a way that would glorify him.
I'm not sure if users of this phrase realize what happened with best business practices last year. They have nearly killed us. As long as profits continued to rise, people thought the companies must be doing something right. Remember that one time when Enron was so awesome? They may not have been using certifiable best accounting practices, but their auditors were still letting them pass. In general, they looked like an awesome company doing everything right.
That's another misuse of the phrase. I hear it used for anything related to how work gets done, from business processes to accounting to how long I take in the bathroom. Just kidding on that last one.
Another fallacy is that there is a monolithic "best" to be practiced. Who determines what is best? Is it what the business community seems to be doing at the time? Mmm, design by committee. Is there a best practices board? Who appointed them?
And for my angriest critique. Best business practices are stultifying, and they breed laziness. These are two sides of the same coin, but they each bear highlighting. This idea ensures there is no creativity. You don't sit around the table saying, "What's a creative solution?" You say, "What's everybody else who's smarter and better than me doing?" Users may not start this way, but this process ends in laziness. "Just tell me what to change." If you spend all your time fixated on best practices, you'll soon be left in the dust trying to catch up to what may or may not be best. Should these be called "fine enough for lazy follower practices"?
There's a cultural/linguistic thing going here. We've seen how "progress" joined the pantheon of American/Western ideals. Always gotta grow. More profits this year. Cut your expenses, unless you add profits and then some. More SKUs. More brochures. As was proven in this last year, unless you choose a sustainable growth path of a few percent per year in an established field, your company will be hurting badly at the next down cycle. So we're always looking to grow faster than we should. We're looking for the *best* way to do things. Whatever happened to "good business practices"? What's wrong with good? The comparative and superlative denigrate the old lowly "good," which could really mean "honest" or "sustainable."
God declared his creation "good," even "very good." He didn't call it "best," because he wanted his creatures to industriously and creatively steward his creation in a way that would glorify him.
Deity pronouns
Another odd obsession of mine is whether or not to capitalize pronouns referring to deity. I fall pretty firmly on the side of not doing so. The general reason is that historically no one has capitalized these pronouns, so why start now. In fact the early manuscripts of the New Testament had all capital letters with no spaces. How on earth will I know when Jesus does stuff?!
A second angle is similar to my dislike for red letter editions. These practices privilege words that were never meant to be privileged.
My latest reason came the other day as I was reading some unedited copy with pronouns referring to Jesus capitalized. I was struck with the strong sense that the capitalized pronouns were used almost as a name so that the antecedents didn't really need to be defined. If this is the case, then that simply points out authorial laziness.
We should never use specific words as an out so we can avoid good writing. (See "stuff" above.)
A second angle is similar to my dislike for red letter editions. These practices privilege words that were never meant to be privileged.
My latest reason came the other day as I was reading some unedited copy with pronouns referring to Jesus capitalized. I was struck with the strong sense that the capitalized pronouns were used almost as a name so that the antecedents didn't really need to be defined. If this is the case, then that simply points out authorial laziness.
We should never use specific words as an out so we can avoid good writing. (See "stuff" above.)
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Devotional promiscuity
In my years of obsession against versejacking, I've often heard and thought that the way we often do "devotions" can be pretty damaging. Freewheeling devotional thoughts on a verse or less does not constitute knowing the Bible or even getting to know it.
I had a conversation today where we were talking about jumping around from verse to verse in different books in the Bible. The positive aspect of Bible engagement is getting to know a story, loving it, and living it well (akin to Peterson's Eat This Book). We form a relationship with the story. However, if we skip blindly about, we commit the worst sort of relational damage. And perhaps that activity is best called "devotional promiscuity."
I had a conversation today where we were talking about jumping around from verse to verse in different books in the Bible. The positive aspect of Bible engagement is getting to know a story, loving it, and living it well (akin to Peterson's Eat This Book). We form a relationship with the story. However, if we skip blindly about, we commit the worst sort of relational damage. And perhaps that activity is best called "devotional promiscuity."
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Formation of self
I'm reading an essay in a book entitled "Multiculturalism" by Charles Taylor. He leans heavily on Rousseau to discern what is culture and what is self and where they meet.
Rousseau said that unhealthy "other-dependence" (e.g., clinginess) actually serves to isolate a person. A healthy form of this, which he doesn't refer to as other-dependence, binds one with those around them in a common purpose. Paradoxically, the latter case is where one finds oneself.
My wife filled me in on this paradox in parenting theory, that if a child is left to themselves to develop a sense of self, they will constantly hang around with adults rather than other children. They aren't able to enculturate themselves with other kids, and presumably this is damaging as an adult. On the other hand, if their parent attaches emotionally with the child, they won't grow up to be clingy (unless it's overdone). They will enculturate to parent/family, other children, then the broader world.
Anthropologically, and perhaps deeper, theologically, humans are to find their self and their identity in community. If I were raised by wolves (as some no doubt think is the case), I would be seen as less than human by those who discovered me. I wouldn't be able to talk or interact as normal humans do. But after interacting for a suitable time, I would become more human.
How do I discover my giftings and passions? Only by exposing myself to people (not like that) and activities. For instance, I could have the potential to be a great carpenter. But if I'm not exposed to chisels, routers, planers, and wood, I'll never know if I could work with wood or enjoy it. The same is true of more intangible interactions. Am I a people person? An introvert? Who knows unless I interact with others? I don't like the idea of telling a kid they can be anything they want when they grow up. But I do like the idea of exposing them to all sorts of wonderful ideas and activities. Then they get to discern their gifts and calling based on their knowledge and experience.
Some philosophers say we shouldn't refer to ourselves as "human beings" but as "human becomings." We are most certainly defined by our interactions with our communities. If I had never met Susan, I would be a radically different person, and probably a sniveling, desperate one. But if I believe myself to be a human "being" in a core sense, I have a boring existence ahead of me. It is through interaction with a community that I learn who I am becoming and what our community is becoming.
So theologically, it is through this communal becoming that I discover my truest, most human self.
Rousseau said that unhealthy "other-dependence" (e.g., clinginess) actually serves to isolate a person. A healthy form of this, which he doesn't refer to as other-dependence, binds one with those around them in a common purpose. Paradoxically, the latter case is where one finds oneself.
My wife filled me in on this paradox in parenting theory, that if a child is left to themselves to develop a sense of self, they will constantly hang around with adults rather than other children. They aren't able to enculturate themselves with other kids, and presumably this is damaging as an adult. On the other hand, if their parent attaches emotionally with the child, they won't grow up to be clingy (unless it's overdone). They will enculturate to parent/family, other children, then the broader world.
Anthropologically, and perhaps deeper, theologically, humans are to find their self and their identity in community. If I were raised by wolves (as some no doubt think is the case), I would be seen as less than human by those who discovered me. I wouldn't be able to talk or interact as normal humans do. But after interacting for a suitable time, I would become more human.
How do I discover my giftings and passions? Only by exposing myself to people (not like that) and activities. For instance, I could have the potential to be a great carpenter. But if I'm not exposed to chisels, routers, planers, and wood, I'll never know if I could work with wood or enjoy it. The same is true of more intangible interactions. Am I a people person? An introvert? Who knows unless I interact with others? I don't like the idea of telling a kid they can be anything they want when they grow up. But I do like the idea of exposing them to all sorts of wonderful ideas and activities. Then they get to discern their gifts and calling based on their knowledge and experience.
Some philosophers say we shouldn't refer to ourselves as "human beings" but as "human becomings." We are most certainly defined by our interactions with our communities. If I had never met Susan, I would be a radically different person, and probably a sniveling, desperate one. But if I believe myself to be a human "being" in a core sense, I have a boring existence ahead of me. It is through interaction with a community that I learn who I am becoming and what our community is becoming.
So theologically, it is through this communal becoming that I discover my truest, most human self.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Offensive Jesus
I saw one of those wonderful (for various reasons) illustrations of Jesus helping out in a sporting event at Burnside Writers' Blog.
My first comment queried whether the poor defender hadn't prayed hard enough, as the boy on offense was obviously on the cusp of an incredible play. But then I thought, in this whole genre of photography (I've revised the medium), I've never seen Jesus helping a defender. I'm very curious why this is.
I know there are theological underpinnings to this. I propose it is because we see Jesus as one who helps us accomplish positive acts. We typically celebrate defensive failures by watching replays of monster home runs, thunderous dunks, and impossible touchdown catches. We fantasize ourselves in terms of great accomplishments like these, especially spiritual slam dunks that only Jesus could accomplish through us. (*retching*)
But we view defense as the thwarters. If they're going to get any help, it's coming from a dude with a pointy tail. Nobody wants a thwarting Jesus.
My first comment queried whether the poor defender hadn't prayed hard enough, as the boy on offense was obviously on the cusp of an incredible play. But then I thought, in this whole genre of photography (I've revised the medium), I've never seen Jesus helping a defender. I'm very curious why this is.
I know there are theological underpinnings to this. I propose it is because we see Jesus as one who helps us accomplish positive acts. We typically celebrate defensive failures by watching replays of monster home runs, thunderous dunks, and impossible touchdown catches. We fantasize ourselves in terms of great accomplishments like these, especially spiritual slam dunks that only Jesus could accomplish through us. (*retching*)
But we view defense as the thwarters. If they're going to get any help, it's coming from a dude with a pointy tail. Nobody wants a thwarting Jesus.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
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