I made an observation in class the other day: that I try to make irregular verbs out of regular verbs in my head. I was folding laundry last week, and when I thought the word "folded" I abruptly asked myself, "or is it FELD?" We don't say holded - we say HELD. This has been bothering me lately, but my professor was far more interested in the fact that I have an internal conversation in my head.
Excuse me? You DON'T?!
I thought everyone talked to themselves in their heads. Sure, I've long accepted that they all don't think in complete scentences like I do (true statement), but we have to use words and language to think through certain things. It can't just be images and abstract things flying through the brain. I think it's the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis in linguistics that says you can't even develop abstract ideas like, say, justice or education without language.
And Americans are constantly reading. Reading advertisements, reading novels, reading "In case of emergency, use stairs". And you're telling me that your brain doesn't just keep going with the silent reading, even when there aren't words in front of you?
Ok, fair enough. Maybe I am strange.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Would Hell be any colder than this?
I like to think of Hell the way Dante paints it: the deepest circle of Hell is frozen ice, because it is the farthest removed from the warmth of God's love.
Hard not to think of that in this long, bitter winter.
The most remarkable thing about the cold in Wisconsin isn't the cosine wave of temperatures, making it rain one day and freeze the next. Nor is it the possibility of ice quakes in Lake Mendota, which cause all the lakeshore buildings to quiver briefly, as if a giant had tried playing patty cake with them. It's our failure to find any other subject matter to be used in small talk.
Everyone has their own prefered topics of small talk. Mine is currently the progress of the Writer's Strike, and how that's affected life. Yet we all have this one thing in common. This one thing that unites us to get behind a stranger's car and heave it out of its rut. We all suffer together, and in the cold, we find solidarity.
I stand behind my belief that it is dull to talk about the weather everywhere else in the country, but in Wisconsin, it's just so damn fascinating.
Hard not to think of that in this long, bitter winter.
The most remarkable thing about the cold in Wisconsin isn't the cosine wave of temperatures, making it rain one day and freeze the next. Nor is it the possibility of ice quakes in Lake Mendota, which cause all the lakeshore buildings to quiver briefly, as if a giant had tried playing patty cake with them. It's our failure to find any other subject matter to be used in small talk.
Everyone has their own prefered topics of small talk. Mine is currently the progress of the Writer's Strike, and how that's affected life. Yet we all have this one thing in common. This one thing that unites us to get behind a stranger's car and heave it out of its rut. We all suffer together, and in the cold, we find solidarity.
I stand behind my belief that it is dull to talk about the weather everywhere else in the country, but in Wisconsin, it's just so damn fascinating.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Extended Mardi Gras
About a week before Ash Wednesday, I realized that I wanted to push my fasting goals to the extreme (ok, extreme for me). I knew I needed to give up sweets.
I have an enormous sweet tooth. I'm a slave to that small piece of chocolate after a meal, or any kind of sweetened baked good sitting in the kitchen. No matter what time of day. I've eaten pie for breakfast (and slightly ashamed to admit that). I usually shy away from giving up dietary things, choosing to go for something a bit more abstract, because I don't want it to become about losing weight or anything like that. But I knew this would be the best form of sacrifice for God. I want my spirit to be able to control my flesh.
The side effect of this decision was that I entered an Extended Mardi Gras, starting that day. If there was a sweet thing in sight, I went for it. No holds barred. My tongue wasn't very happy with me by Sunday - I can develop sore spots on my tongue when I eat too many sweets, which hurt when I eat more sweet things. This week-long indulgence in my future fast made me realize how bad I CAN be. I really pursued sugary things with intense ferver. From one extreme to the other - probably not the best decision.
I have moderated my fast by allowing myself one hot chocolate on Sundays. Sundays don't technically count in the numbering of Lent, because every Sunday is like a mini-Easter. We celebrate the resurrection of our Lord every week. I'm usually an advocate of the all-out fast, straight through. But in this case... give me a break, it's winter, and hot chocolate is always my drink of choice. Six out of seven days I will turn to tea instead.
Also, as it is impossible to cut all sweetness from your diet, I'm not counting fruit and honey in my fast (they're natural). Which means that I will be eating A LOT of raisins this Lent.
I have an enormous sweet tooth. I'm a slave to that small piece of chocolate after a meal, or any kind of sweetened baked good sitting in the kitchen. No matter what time of day. I've eaten pie for breakfast (and slightly ashamed to admit that). I usually shy away from giving up dietary things, choosing to go for something a bit more abstract, because I don't want it to become about losing weight or anything like that. But I knew this would be the best form of sacrifice for God. I want my spirit to be able to control my flesh.
The side effect of this decision was that I entered an Extended Mardi Gras, starting that day. If there was a sweet thing in sight, I went for it. No holds barred. My tongue wasn't very happy with me by Sunday - I can develop sore spots on my tongue when I eat too many sweets, which hurt when I eat more sweet things. This week-long indulgence in my future fast made me realize how bad I CAN be. I really pursued sugary things with intense ferver. From one extreme to the other - probably not the best decision.
I have moderated my fast by allowing myself one hot chocolate on Sundays. Sundays don't technically count in the numbering of Lent, because every Sunday is like a mini-Easter. We celebrate the resurrection of our Lord every week. I'm usually an advocate of the all-out fast, straight through. But in this case... give me a break, it's winter, and hot chocolate is always my drink of choice. Six out of seven days I will turn to tea instead.
Also, as it is impossible to cut all sweetness from your diet, I'm not counting fruit and honey in my fast (they're natural). Which means that I will be eating A LOT of raisins this Lent.
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