Vox Lucens

Today has been a very lousy day - one of those steady progressions from wanting to pull one’s hair out, to wanting to put one’s hand through a wall, to deciding killing two birds with one stone is better and just wanting to put one’s head through a wall. Though my office walls are yet undamaged, due to steady exercise of self-control and some well-timed water breaks, the emotional scars remain.

Long-time readers of this blog may recall this. I now offer the following update.

It all started yesterday - a day of promise and potential, for it was Download Day. And I downloaded, marveling at the 15,000 bug fixes in Firefox 3 and rejoicing at reports of its infinitesimal memory footprint. After downloading comes installing, and after installing comes that magical checkbox which says, “Launch Firefox 3.”

I attempted launch, and waited. I wasn’t happy with the error box that came up and told me Firefox had crashed. (One is given to wonder how something can “crash” before it even launches, but such semantics do not portray the depth of my present emotional grief.) But alas, at mid-afternoon yesterday I did not have time to fix it, so I simply tryed uninstalling and reinstalling and deleting and redownloading a few times, all with a remarkable lack of success.

This morning I foolishly assumed that I could use IE and survive. I was wrong. Even I, adamant Firefox fan though I am, had forgotten the depth of the slowness and horribleness of that terrible program. I had indeed forgotten that it destroys the formatting of things like the Weekly Reminder. In desperation I tried everything I could think of to fix Firefox’s fatal flaws–and failed. I edited program files. I read web help forums. I tried to find a place to re-download Firefox 2. I tried changing profiles and user info. I even found out what a “command line argument” is. Nothing worked.

So I did what any sane person would do: I downloaded Opera. It is quantum leaps faster and more secure than IE, I will give it that. It has some helpful features. But Firefox it is not, and in spite of my best efforts to make it all work, Opera simply does not cut it. It lacks features I rely on.

So at this point I know not what to do. My laptop got me through today, but I still have no Firefox at work. In my depth of futile anguish, iambic pentameter is my only solace…

Of IE I tried just a bit,
To see if its code just might fit,
But no, it did not.
My attempt just begot
The frustration that comes from the pit.

So Opera next garnered my gaze,
An improvement, it seems, anyways.
But features it lacked,
(And it’s background was blacked)
So short was this one browser’s phase.

I’m a one-browser man, it is true.
And yet, I know not what to do!
For the Firefox dream,
Has gone up in the steam,
Bringing tomorrow’s frustration anew.

I was highly fascinated by the BBC’s coverage of American elections, as broadcast by PRI on my little Pacific island. But as I was sitting in the Detroit airport during a long layover yesterday, I found the most highly prescient statement of current American politics I’ve ever heard.

Problem is, despite the news blaring around me, I found it in the book I was reading - a history of Burma. On page 216 of the fascinating book “The River of Lost Footsteps,” the author actually thought he was talking about 1940s Burma!

…the political parties inhabited a strange middle space between responsible government and theater.

After getting the top of my head wickedly burned a couple of weeks ago, I decided that I don’t want that to happen again. So, as annoying and weird as it may be, I decided to put sunscreen on through my hair.

And I discovered that sunscreen is a more than adequate substitute for hair gel. It’s even lighter and less stiff, while holding the hair in place quite nicely. I only hope it also keeps me from getting burned…

I’m weird.

I tend to be a bit of a grammar freak. Bad grammar, lack of punctuation, mis-capitalization, and any number of other potential linguistic lapses bother me. For that reason, a good deal of blogging - not to mention IMing - can cause me serious consternation. This is a subject I have written on before.

But there is one simple reason I like following grammar’s rules. They are the tools of effective communications. They make combinations of words precise in their meaning, elegant in their style, and effective in message. Rules of grammar are pointless on their own; they exist only as tools of communication.

It is with that in mind that I state, quite truthfully, that I appreciate folks that correct my grammar. But sometimes I get stubborn…and sometimes I think about small stuff WAY too much.

Take my recent post reviewing “Expelled.” In my long-winded introduction, I referred to the movie “Red Dawn” and its negative effect on my gastrointestinal stability. And more than one person noted to me that I used the word “nauseous” when I should have said “nauseated.”

You see, the word “nauseous” to me seems almost onomatopoetic. I can’t say it without feeling the sound go up through my nose and make my sinuses swirl, making it profoundly appropriate for the idea it is attempting to communicate. “Nauseated,” on the other hand, sounds clinical and clean, something you would find on a hospital chart - making it grammatically correct, but inadequate for powerful communication.

Now, I must admit that I first used that word thinking it was correct. It was a grammatical mistake. But now that I know that, I’m stubbornly refusing to change it.

And yet, in spite of my stubbornness, I am bothered by my stance. More people commented on my grammatical gaffe than commented on the content of what I had to say. So this I must ask myself, in the attempt to improve my communication ability: Is my attempt to use the best word distracting from what I’m really trying to say? It seems that blogging would be an excellent chance to use the most compelling word over the most correct one, but communication is about connecting with your audience - am I writing for a bunch of grammar mavens?

Communication can be a strange beast. Ah grammar, how do I love thee?

(Thoughts on good grammar, and critiques of my grammatical structure, are welcomed in the comments section. This rant is brought to you by a very long day in which every creative shred in my being has been taxed to the utmost.)

[Thanks to all who visited my site this afternoon and bore with the "test" post--and even commented on it! I am experimenting with FeedFlare, and discovering that this server is incredibly slow.]

I’m going to do something new for this blog, something I don’t think I’ve ever done before–a movie review. It isn’t often that a movie sticks out as being either so good or so bad I actually want to write about it. (Red Dawn would be an exception, on the bad side, but I can hardly even think about it without feeling nauseous, which is not conducive to blogging.) The fact that this concept is rather foreign is probably obvious by the fact that I’m filing this post under “Humor (?)” and “Inspirational,” neither of which really fits.

All introductory comments aside, let’s cut to the chase: Expelled was fantastic. It was thought-provoking, brilliantly produced, and highly entertaining.

Now don’t get me wrong. I am a proud member of the “young-earth creation” crowd, which, if one is to go by this movie, is apparently a kook fringe of society. I tend to think we’re a little more stable–and intellectually honest–than that, so perhaps the vilification took the path of water on a duck’s back, but let me say at the outset that this is no creationistic manifesto.

In fact, it’s not much of a manifesto at all. Ben Stein’s bent towards intelligent design is purposefully obvious, but the point of the movie is not to persuade you that intelligent design is the truth. It’s designed to open the door to a rational debate on the subject–something that has not happened for decades. And that is the first reason I liked it. This 90-minute film recognized the inherent limitations of the persuasive quality of 90-minute films, and still made a profound point. While no one is going to be persuaded to shake their firmly held evolutionary beliefs because of a documentary, they just might be willing to think things through after it.

But the even better reason I liked this movie was the sheer brilliance of its production. As a student–and fan–of effective communication, I could not help but marvel at the elegance (if I may use a Dawkins-esque word) of the documentary. From opening scene to closing credits, it was built around one tantalizing extended metaphor that gave life to the overarching point of the movie. And underneath that extended metaphor, every element of the film, from the cinematography to the backdrops to the abrupt cuts to 60’s-vintage black and white reels, provided the foundational building blocks to the actual dialogue.

No, I’m not going to tell you what that extended metaphor was. I’m hoping, if you haven’t already, that you’ll go see this film and find out for yourself.

My friends in the creationist crowd, if this movie is successful, you and I need to be ready to do our part. We need to be ready to provide the evidence of the Creator. It’s out there, but it has been suppressed in public life for years–and if this movie can serve as a tiny crack in the dam of the establishment, we should be ready to pour through that crack with all the science and logic at our disposal. But let us remember, in the long run, that this science and logic is not the end game; our end goal must be to point all who see us to our Creator. This movie won’t do that…but it just might give you and me the platform we need to impact someone for eternity.

And to think, just the fact that Ben Stein called Richard Dawkins on the carpet would have alone been worth the price of admission.

The Psalmist loves to give lists of instruments that we can use to praise God. Some of those lists are pretty long, but I’m adding a new instrument today. You see, in spite of my name, I’m not much of a trumpeter - but when I need to blow my nose, you would never know it. If the nose-blowing was in any way musical, I could give Dizzy Gillespie a run for his money. (And if there are ever sequels made for old classics, I’m fully ready to play opposite Julie Andrews in “The Sound of Mucous.”)

*ducks*

Somehow, getting sick reminds me of all of the things that I have to be grateful for. After running myself ragged last week, I have a horrible sinus infection, and am therefore in just such a boat right now!

But what a praise list I have. Even when I feel completely overwhelmed, I can’t help but remember the blessings that have been rained down in buckets on my life. Being sick reminds me of just how often I am healthy. Being run ragged reminds me of the privilege that it is to be doing God’s work.

Sometimes it’s the big things that make me smile, and sometimes all it takes are the little blessings…

• The clerk in the Wal-Mart photo center that got all concerned when I gave her a couple of my pictures for trimming - they don’t do professional photos, you see, because of copyright issues. She seemed genuinely shocked when I told her they were mine.
• The beauty of thunderstorms.
• Playing volleyball.
• Having people remind me that it has been a week since I last blogged, and ask for a new post!
• Nasal decongestant.

And so, I’m trumpeting His praise - muted only by Kleenex Ultra-Soft!