false-forwards and my thoughts on christmas...

the italic text below was sent to me via a forwarded email message. my comments follow.

The following was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday Morning Commentary.

My confession:

I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are: Christmas trees.

It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, "Merry Christmas" to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu. If people want a Crèche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away .

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the con cept came from that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship Nick and Jessica and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where Nick and Jessica came from and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her "How could God let something like this happen?" (regarding Katrina) Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response.She said, "I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?"

In light of recent events...terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said OK.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with "WE REAP WHAT WE SOW."

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we be lieve what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says . Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing?

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.
Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit. If not then just discard it... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in.

My Best Regards.

Honestly and respectfully,

Ben Stein

*********************************************************

this was sent to me by family with the best of intentions. and immediately, this rubbed me the wrong way. on occasion, i have been a fan of ben stein, but some of these sentiments seem unlikely from someone as intelligent and erudite as he is. of course, a little research reveals that these aren't quite his words.

here is the REAL essay:
http://www.benstein.com/121805xmas.html

and the snopes article about it:
http://www.snopes.com/politics/soapbox/benstein2.asp

ben stein DOES assert that america shouldn't be an 'explicitly atheist country.' with all due respect, i don't think it is. yet, america SHOULD be an explicitly SECULAR country...though one founded on judeo-christian principles. and you're not going to hear me grumble about the fact that we have steered far from those principles...that much i don't dispute. but the last time i checked, this isn't a communist state- god is called down frequently in this country of ours... in our courthouses, in our ballparks, and yes, even in our schools. to suggest otherwise is ridiculous. indeed, the right to express one's religious views is, in some ways, more valued and respected than another's right to NOT hear them.

"I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period."

interesting point. alas, this is a democracy, and the rules are created for all, whether they believe in god or not. no exceptions should be made either way. the question so frequently becomes not one of dictating the behavior of those believers, but allowing the same freedoms to those non-believers. to request the removal of all manger scenes and menorahs would be absolutely absurd... but to request their removal from public property is a constitutional right. perhaps we don't mind them, but it is not our right to begrudge those who do.

to address the forwarded message, i don't resent anne graham's response to the katrina question on the early show. in fact, i think it was a rather graceful answer to the question and one that echoes her personal sentiments on the matter. and isn't it lovely that a. that question was asked on national television and b. that she had the right to give that response?

the insinuations that god has abandoned o'hair and dr. spock and whoever else believes there should be a separation of church and state are barely worthy of reply. however, i will say that it doesn't make the most compelling case for a benevolent, all-loving god who (deliberately?) allows his children to be murdered. let it be noted that it's an interesting mix of old and new testament purportedly coming from the jewish stein.

i appreciate stein's remarks about not finding the christmas tree offensive... he is perhaps more progressive than i am, since even i can take offense to the christmas trees being erected the day after halloween. i CAN take offense. i can even protest its erection. i can yell and picket and rally...and isn't that great? and to take it one step further, isn't it great that, if they're on private property, i can be totally ignored?

to be honest, i love all the gaudy christmas decorations and menorahs for many of the same reasons stein relates, but i think the christmas trees lining the shopping mall parking lots are perhaps the best example of all. when "asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong," we should ask not why we don't, as a country, call on god, but on WHICH god we call. and after seven years of working retail, i believe i know the answer. so often, christmas is less about honoring the birth of christ and more about worshipping the material gods. it is about desperate coupon-clipping, cutting in long check-out lines, and breaking your back with multi-colored shopping bags... the feverish rush to get 'something' for 'someone.' in the rare instances that i would get a break in the holiday rush at the jewelry store, i would sit back and watch the throngs of people flowing through the mall corridors, shaking my head at the sad state of a world in which people were running around shopping at 6PM on christmas eve instead of at home with their loved ones... if anything, to enjoy one of the few days we are ALL (regardless of religion) afforded to be together. and yet, with all my dissatisfaction and condemnation, i would quickly forget when i received my holiday pay-check. (and how sad and yet, how typical is that?) when asking our children 'why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves,' we should think about the newest wii or playstation video game we stood in line for two hours to buy... no doubt, two hours better spent teaching and guiding and nurturing them.
i have faith that people can and will do the right thing, if afforded a critical-thinking nature, the right tools, and a little compassion. and i'd love to live in a country in which others felt the same. maybe then, we could call down whichever gods we please together and at all times of year, instead of arguing over semantics less accountable for our country's downfall than the presents under our tree, the money in our wallet, and the issues under our noses. and regardless of whether we disgree about holiday decorations, i don't think ben stein and i would disagree about that.

roasted chipmunk

what's a girl gotta do in order to meet the girlfriend of one her oldest friends?

apparently, poison her dogs. (not the girlfriend's...my own.)

so... if you've done much talking to me recently, you might know that i'm not in the most festive of holiday moods. it just doesn't feel like christmas this year.

in any case, the biggest plans i had for the day was to head out to sugar land to hang out with mom. while there, i was going to help prepare a few things for tomorrow's breakfast. (no christmas dinner for us this year.) and so, i'm hanging out in the kitchen with her while she's cooking some bacon. i sit on the counter and munch on a bagel before i decide it's kinda stale...at which point i open a can of black olives and am eating those out of the can. and suddenly i hear this 'crunch crunch crunch' sound...

and i see fidel coming out of the laundry room. and so, i follow fidel back into the laundry room to see what he's gotten into...whatever it is, it's behind the washer. (i'm figuring that, worst case scenario, he's gotten into some stray dog food that has worked its way under there.) and that's when i see the rat poison.

so, naturally, i freak out. and not a little. (sidenote: never, in my entire life, have we EVER had rat poison anywhere in our house. we were those people who would actually catch mice and let them go on the golf course. mice are among my favorite animals in the world...and mouse traps and rat poison are practically against my religion. i would NEVER expect for that to be an issue.)

so unfortunately, i'm wiggin out on mom...and pacing and not thinking clearly and thus, not knowing what to do. until finally, i have the presence of mind to look up the number for the emergency vet i know. (the one i know because fidel had a bad allergic reaction to a vaccine once upon a time when he was just a tiny puppy.) and i call them... and the lady on the other end of the receiver gets zero points for knowing how to calm someone down under the circumstances.

so, minutes later, i've got both dogs in my lap and i'm speeding to the emergency room... neither dog looking particularly distressed, aside from their concern at my irrational, hysterical behavior. and i get there...and again, the nurses make really grave faces when i mention rat poison... which just upsets me even more. and i fill out all the paperwork and sign all the forms that promise i'll mortgage whatever it is i can in order to pay for this vet visit (which is absolutely nothing, though i may have signed away my rights to my first-born) and they ask me which one ate the poison. and i say 'the one who eats everything,' figuring it will totally be obvious by just looking at them. so...they take fidel. meanwhile, faulkner is getting more and more anxious. and i'm hearing nothing from the stephenson household... which is highly suspect since i get calls from mom every 5 minutes under any other circumstances... my guess at why being that mom is feeling both really upset and very guilty.

and again, i'm getting more and more upset. and i think the nurses are starting to feel a little sorry for me, since they are handing me lots of tissue... and even the lady who is there in the waiting room with her soon-to-be-put-to-sleep cat is trying to comfort me. and adam is on the phone, honestly asking if mom would be willing to poison his cat too, since kat-owen has learned to turn on the faucet and has destroyed adam's bathroom. (adam is always good for the tasteless humor in moments like these.)

so, after deciding that the animal emergency room has got to be the most depressing place on the planet (especially on christmas eve), the nurse comes out and says that fidel has thrown up...and that he has thrown up A LOT of poison. and then, of course, she proceeds to tell me that had i not brought him in, he would have totally died. (was that detail really necessary? i mean, don't we all feel bad enough?!)

this is when mom finally calls...and she is so upset that the next few minutes are spent trying to apologize for freaking out on her, as well as relaying that fidel is fine. then comes the next question: did faulkner get into it, too? can't be sure one way or the other...and given all their frowny-faces and somber warnings about rat poison, i don't want to take a chance and opt to have faulkner treated as well.

so, both dogs are busy puking their guts out, while i'm still sobbing in the waiting room like an idiot... shocking even myself at how worried i am about these two animals (both having appeared perfectly fine before these vets got their hands on them).

when the whole ordeal is over, i bring them home and decide that i'm not moving off my couch this evening so that i can keep an eye on them. and fidel is acting A-OK...but poor faulkner has a more sensitive stomach and is still clearly affected by whatever they gave him to make him throw up. i finally decide i need a snack from the kitchen, so i go to grab some applesauce...at which point fidel, in usual form, starts patrolling the kitchen floor. (and i'm really wanting to smack him, since it is this compulsive behavior that led to the whole incident in the first place.)

a few hours later, i get a call from adam...and he is outside with his girlfriend. (mind you, i have not met her yet, despite the fact they have been dating for months... and this has been very deliberate.) and i'm thinking that, in some ways, it is slightly fortuitous that my dogs were poisoned today, since otherwise, adam would not be feeling sorry for me and i might not have had the opportunity to meet his woman. and at this point, fidel is obliviously playing with his new gorrilla toy, so i figure it's probably OK to leave for a little bit...

so, we go get thai food. at thai sticks... which is the only place that appears to be open at 9:30 on christmas eve. and the conversation runs anywhere from what a jerk mike myers is (she's a casting agent) to what a nice guy deepak chopra is to what movies (not yet released in the movie theatres, but available to us on DVD since she is an academy voter) we will be watching this week. and the music playing starts as some bad tejano version of jingle bells, then changes to what sounds like polish-villager christmas carols to what sounds like 'chestnuts roasting on an open fire.' but...now, get this...it is not in fact 'chestnuts roasting.' it sounds JUST like it...it even sounds like nat king cole...but the conversation dies down for one second and we clearly hear the lyrics "roasted chipmunk" at the point where "merry christmas" usually comes in the song.

seriously.

and we die laughing...despite the distinct possibility we may be in the twilight zone.

but the moral of the story is this:

the day didn't end up so badly. fidel and faulkner are both fine. i got to meet adam's girlfriend. and i will probably get to watch a lot of good movies before anyone else.

so....merry christmas, i guess.

this poem made my day:

Clam Ode

One attempts to be significant on a grand scale
in the knock-down battle of life
but settles.
It is clammy today, meaning wet and gray,
not having a hard, calciniferous shell.
I love the expression "happy as a clam,"
how it imparts buoyant emotion
to a rather, when you get down to it,
nonexpressive creature: In piles of ice
it awaits its doom pretty much the same
as on the ocean's floor it awaits
life's banquet and bouquet and sexual joys.
Some barnacles we know are eggs dropped from outer space
but clams, who has a clue how they reproduce?
By trading clouds?
The Chinese thought them capable of prolonging life
while clams doubtlessly considered
the Chinese the opposite.
I remember the jawbreakers my dad would buy me
on the wharf at Stone Harbor,
every thirty seconds you'd take out
the one in your mouth
to check what color it turned.
What does this have to do with clams?
A feeling.
States of feeling, unlike states of the upper Midwest,
are difficult to name.
That is why music was invented,
which caused a whole new slew of feelings
and is why since
people have had more feelings than they know what to do with
so you can see it sorta backfired
like a fire extinguisher that turns out to be a flame thrower.
They look somewhat alike, don't they?
So if you're buying one be sure
you don't get the other,
the boys in the stockroom are stoners
who like to wear their pants falling down
and deserve their own Gulliver's Travels island.
The clam however remains calm.
Green is the color of the kelp it rests on,
having a helluva wingding calm.
I am going to kill you in butter and white wine
so forgive me, great clam spirit,
join yourself to me through the emissary
of this al dente fettuccini
so I may be qualmless and happy as you.

-Dean Young

this is brilliance. to me.