My first line was going to be “New Jersey is a different world.” But on further reflection, it has to be California that’s outside the norm. Having grown up here, it’s only relatively recently that I learned this; I still tend to forget.

The first time I was really struck by the idea that California might be different from other places was… well, I was in my teens and I think I must have been reading Alvin Toffler’s Third Wave. Somewhere in there, while discussing the cultural effects of the Information Age, Toffler asks rhetorically whether—this phrase stuck in my mind—”the 24-hour supermarket, pinnacle of Californian kookiness” would spread across the entire country. I remember reading that and thinking, “the rest of the country doesn’t have 24 hour supermarkets?” And, even more shockedly, “people think it’s ‘kooky?’” I had a vision of California as seen by wherever Toffler was from: Long-haired hippies in earth tones and beaded necklaces shopping for organic vegetables at 3AM.

To me, 24 hour markets were a simple convenience. Was my 24 hour lifestyle “kooky?” I looked at the copyright on the book and dismissed the idea. I assumed that things had changed since the late 70′s. It wasn’t until I had friends in college on the East Coast that I learned they hadn’t.

Just recently I met a girl fresh from Philadelphia who reminded me of our Golden State difference by the simple act of differentiating between types of white people. It’s not that we—or I—have forgotten that people have different ancestral origins, it’s simply that out here it’s harder, or impossible, to tell. When people ask me about my ethnic makeup, I usually tell them “half Mexican, half white.” White is honestly all I know. German, English, Welsh, Irish, who knows and who can tell? Who isn’t a mix or adopted or simply forgotten in the move out West? But Lavinia from Philadelphia told me of a city where Italians are Italians and Germans are Germans and Irish are Irish—if they’re not “black Irish,” which is a term, by the way, I never understood, and which she finally cleared up for me. Hearing about the separations between these groups reminded me of my befuddlement regarding tribal conflict in Africa. Racism is always wrong, of course, but this kind of conflict isn’t even intelligible out here, where distinctions are only made in the broadest possible terms.

The kicker that has me thinking about this again today is John J. Reilly’s recent entry on the Long View. Summarizing a New York Times story, he mentions some protesters at a mass in Orange, NJ:

Also, the protestors claimed he was using some of the old rubrics while saying the new Mass. They said he sometimes faced toward the altar with his back to the congregation, though the Times reporter, Daniel J. Wakin, was unable to verify that.

Now I know I don’t get to church every week, so perhaps I’ve missed something, but I find it hard to imagine a parish around here getting agitated—or even noticing—such a theological nicety as the priest turning his back to the congregation. I remember my father telling me he gets a sense of the faith a priest has in his congregation by whether, during Communion, he holds the chalice and the Eucharist up the entire length of time the altar boy (or girl) rings those bells. But I never thought it was dogma. And, come to think of it, those bells seem to have been mostly phased out, a situation which I’ve never analyzed more than “oh, I guess they don’t do it anymore.”

These protesters are only the most recent report Reilly has made on the strange New Jersey church. A few weeks ago he wrote in an email that the debate over Palestrina versus plain chant nearly starts fistfights in his parish. This isn’t even to mention the werewolves.

Some of these differences I like, some I don’t. I would love to be part of a parish like Reilly’s, but I would be rather annoyed to have my supermarket hours reduced. I’m also, well, embarrassed whenever someone else bags my groceries. Probably tomorrow I’ll forget, again, that I live in someplace strange. That is, until I hear the term “frontage road” or the news mentions the “beltway” and I remember that the ring around the city is the standard form of hopefully-free-way everywhere east of the Rockies. But no matter how many times I’m shocked—shocked!—I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea that the state I live in is “kooky.”

I saw Amelie on DVD last week with my friend Chan. The movie is great, but you can’t forget it’s French. The adorableness is interspliced at seeming random with split-second moments of utter vulgarity, as if the creators were frightened of being too heartwarming.

One of the running pieces of comedy involves Amelie’s father receiving pictures by mail of his stolen lawn gnome in front of the world’s great locations: the eiffel tower, the kremlin, niagara falls, and more.

I wish some stewardess would unglue me from my stand and pack me in their suitcase. Check me as their extra luggage and pull me out in a city far away, even if only to take a polaroid snapshot.

I would be a good gnome, I think. I have the physique. I’ve been doing calculations, and to lose thirty pounds I will have to run two hours every day for the next three months. But as a gnome I would already be perfect; I have only to grow out my beard. With a red cap, a buckle, and some new brown boots perhaps I could get a pretty girl with dark hair and a bob haircut to smile and take me home.

It’s an idea, at least. There’s no question what your purpose is, as a lawn gnome. There’s no dissonance from not living up to your potential. There’s no trying to figure out your place in the world, or worrying that you’ve already lost it.

Studio executives are blaming the poor Tomb Raider movie opening on the recent video game release.

Socrates once pointed out that there were two ways of arriving at a faraway place. The first method, and the one that would occur to most people, is to know the route—to have traveled it before or to have a sure guide. The second method is, quite simply, to guess. The important thing to remember is that, in the end, neither method gets you to your destination any more than the other. If you are there, you are there.

Angelina Jolie receives payment in advance for her role in Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life.

Now we would all recognize that the first method is the better one because of the probability that the guesser will get lost along the way. Knowledge is power, as the familiar phrase goes. Socrates’ lesson was meant to show, however, that knowledge is not the only course to power. It is not necessary and very many successful people are so not because of any understanding on their part but because of blind luck.

Hollywood, you could say, has taken this lesson to heart. No thinking person can cease to be amazed at the episodes of utter cluelessness that they regularly produce; their total inability to comprehend the business which they nominally control. I do not grow angry at them, as so many others do, for creating sub-par, sappy, or formulaic films. I get exasperated, though, that these executives lack even the bare competency of understanding that would be a minimum requirement in—not just any other industry—but in any other mode of life.

This is an industry which has glorified the art of mapless travelling. Of arriving at a destination without ever finding the path that leads there. This kind of adventuring has a joyful serendipity to it that explains why Hollywood has so many successes; but it also explains why the industry creates so many lousy, lifeless sequels and boring cash-in clones. When no one has a map, most people play follow the leader. In our village, where the rain can’t be predicted, we naturally turn to the most confident shaman.

That is, until a new shaman comes by who seems to have a better line. The first time I really took notice of this egregious tendency towards groupthink was when the original Star Wars movies were re-released in theatres. The news media were full of stories talking about the “gamble” George Lucas was taking with the Special Edition. Would audiences really go see twenty year old movies? The answer was obviously yes, but the Hollywood talking heads couldn’t realize that until after all three re-releases were ridiculously successful.

Of course by bucking standard perceptions—and succeeding—George Lucas was given a free hand in Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, resulting in all the problems that have made these recent episodes inferior to the earlier ones. Lucas has, perhaps, sure knowledge, but needs someone else to drive for him.

Now I haven’t seen the new Tomb Raider movie yet; so I can’t speak about how good it is. But I can confidently tell you why no one in our group of friends has seen it so far. The first film, despite having earned one hundred fourty-one million dollars, was utterly abysmal: bad acting, bad direction, bad dialogue, bad plot, even bad special effects at the end; the creators managed to do the impossible and squander the Illuminati. I am an ardent Angelina Jolie fan, but even I can’t defend it.

Paradoxically, this was the argument I tried to use to scrounge up companions for the sequel. The first one was so bad, the second had to be better.

It’s not surprising that I failed. It shouldn’t be surprising to the executives blaming Eidos for the low turnout this weekend. To the Hollywood executives intent on churning out sequels, here’s a tip from the gaming world that you said was your core audience for Tomb Raider. We do this when we explore a new dungeon. Next time you head out into the unknown, bring a sketchpad with you. Try to make a map.

Does anyone have a fiddle? I need something to play while my life burns down.

2477 Respect for the reputation of persons forbids every attitude and word likely to cause them unjust injury. He becomes guilty:

• of rash judgment who, even tacitly, assumes as true, without sufficient foundation, the moral fault of a neighbor;
• of detraction who, without objectively valid reason, discloses another’s faults and failings to persons who did not know them;
• of calumny who, by remarks contrary to the truth, harms the reputation of others and gives occasion for false judgments concerning them.

2478 To avoid rash judgment, everyone should be careful to interpret insofar as possible his neighbor’s thoughts, words, and deeds in a favorable way:

Every good Christian ought to be more ready to give a favorable interpretation to another’s statement than to condemn it. But if he cannot do so, let him ask how the other understands it. And if the latter understands it badly, let the former correct him with love. If that does not suffice, let the Christian try all suitable ways to bring the other to a correct interpretation so that he may be saved.

2479 Detraction and calumny destroy the reputation and honor of one’s neighbor. Honor is the social witness given to human dignity, and everyone enjoys a natural right to the honor of his name and reputation and to respect. Thus, detraction and calumny offend against the virtues of justice and charity.

—

I’m still learning.

This has been mentioned elsewhere, but it’s worth repeating. One story, two dismaying paragraphs.

The first:

Microsoft acknowledged a critical vulnerability Wednesday in nearly all versions of its flagship Windows operating system software, the first such design flaw to affect its latest Windows Server 2003 software.

And the last:

The announcement came one day after the Department of Homeland Security announced that it awarded a five-year, $90-million contract for Microsoft to supply all its most important desktop and server software for about 140,000 computers inside the new federal agency.

Is it inconceivable that a security agency would base its decisions, at least in part, on security?

Sometimes it’s hard to be an optimist. Lately it seems difficult to believe the end isn’t coming soon.

sigh

It’s like your favorite band breaking up.

Ever got a letter, sent a reasonable reply, reread the letter, and realize you should have been pissed off?

Yeah.

Situations up north have changed, and despite what the news says about Weapons of Mass Destruction, I say this they weren’t there and didn’t see what the regime did. They weren’t there when a one legged old man walked up to us showed us his stump and in broken english said Saddam did this. Or when a family came up to us asking us for help because they wanted help in looking for their missing son who disappeared after Saddam’s men took him away one night. Did we do some good here? Yes we did. Are there people pissed we did what we did yes there are. And now they come out, using what they know to beat us…our kindness. They know our rules, and what we won’t do. And they use what they have available the media. But enough of my commentary. Now am I going north or staying or coming home. I don’t know. For now I am a soldier and will execute my mission to its my fullest ability whatever it is.

I wanted to quote Captain K for a few reasons:

1. This short excerpt from his email perfectly encapsulates both the humanitarian good that has come from this war and the danger our troops are now facing because of it; and
2. Captain K’s dedication to his duty is a tribute to him and the others like him in the armed forces. It is a testament to their professionalism and their willingness to sacrifice. And, equally, it should be a reminder to us in the civilian world of the great reponsibility we have in deciding the deployment of these brave men and women. They are ready to do what we think they must. On our word they will fight, and, sadly, some of them will die.

Some, or all, of you may never have noticed, but I’ve never taken a strong position on this war, for or against. My principles have been conflicted. On the one hand, real and regular tyranny in any regime cannot be ignored. On the other, we cannot use our military as Knights Errant, wandering the world to correct every wrong.

This conflict of moral principles is, I believe, why the issue of Weapons of Mass Destruction has been pushed so much. The national defense is always a clearly justified call to arms. Regardless of whether such weapons are ever found—or programs, as so many have pointed out, the production being much more important than the produced—even if it be definitively stated that our invasion was based on false premises—my feeling has always been that we will do more good than bad by this action. This could be arrogance, or the result of a mind clouded by sin, but I don’t think so. In every tale of Hussein’s atrocity that surfaces from Iraq, I am confirmed in my belief. In Captain K’s letter, I see the hand of God, who orders all things that we may come to Him; I see the work of He who brings good even out of grievous evil.

There are tragedies going on all over the world. Some we can help, some we can’t. This person, here, is lying on the road, too. The blanket covering them doesn’t seem so colorful.

I got a letter today from Cpt K, baking in the Kuwaiti desert sun. A lot of us were hoping he’d be back soon, but with the casualties rising, it seems like he might be sent north again.

Some people might say there’s a difference in these two photos; a difference of deserving it. BS. The real difference is simply that the soldier in Iraq died trying to create the freedom those in Santa Monica took for granted.

Dean Allen is right when he calls the propagandistic use of deaths grave-robbery. I’m not trying to do that here. But we can draw lessons from tragedy; sometimes complex and, yes, political; sometimes as simple as cherishing every day.