Evan More Bad News

A follow up.

I don't so much care if Evan Almighty stinks (which I'm told it does), or if it's a commercial flop (which it seems to be floating toward). What I care about is if it tells me true things about God and faith and reality. This Slate review sums it up well. Good parts:

If they succeed, it will be tragic, not because Evan Almighty is unfunny (although it certainly is), but because it will validate Hollywood's embarrassingly stupid approach to religion and faith.

And,

...what's disturbing about Evan Almighty is its flaccid approach to faith. All that is compelling, moving, and profound about the Noah story has been systematically excised. In the Bible, God chooses Noah to survive because Noah is a righteous man. But Evan is faithless and stupid, and comes to believe in God only because God hammers him over the head with about 137 miracles.

Well, I won't pretend I'm not faithless and stupid. I suspect I frequently ignore miracles. But the point is valid. Finally,

Evan Almighty also strips away anything Christian (or Jewish) about the story and replaces it with a message of universal hokum. God's entire instruction to his flock? Practice "acts of random kindness." (Look at the initial letters of that phrase.) That's not religion or even morality. It's a coffee mug slogan.

There's the stake in that vampire. You can tell a dumb story, but take out the true parts, and it's a waste of everyone's time.

Okay, I think I've spent enough brain cells on this. As always, thank you for your patience.

Almighty Dollar

Just yesterday I was thinking that I hadn't seen any enormous, secularly funded attempts to grab Christian cash lately. Is my trend-spotting spotty?

Probably! But then today I read this article from the Houston Chronicle about Evan Almighty:

...if Evan Almighty turns into a summer hit, as several competing studio executives predict, the movie could put Hollywood back in the business of making big-budget movies that intentionally embrace sacred subjects.

"For some reason, Hollywood doesn't make this kind of movie," says Tom Shadyac, the director of both Evan Almighty and its racier predecessor, 2003's Bruce Almighty, whose religious message was less palpable. "I don't know if it's out of fear. I really don't. Maybe we're not living as closely to these themes."

For some crazy reason, they're not doing it, huh Tom? Well it's not JUST fear. Don't forget ignorance and disdain!

Our man, John Bock is back too, with ArkALMIGHTY.com, a Craigslist for churchy good deeds. John Goodman (what's in a name?) even pops onto the site to explain the deal:

1. Register your church.
   
2. Tell people in your church to post needs to the site.
3. People at your church check it out and volunteer to meet needs.

This is a not-terrible idea, except that arkalmighty has a movie commercial with viral aspirations artlessly tacked on. Also, the execution is dumb. From the About page:

Maybe there’s a college student who could use help moving into her first apartment, or a widow that could use a helping hand washing her windows, or a recently laid-off worker who could use help polishing up his resume. There are countless needs out there that, up until now, have had no way to be met. But now they do, thanks to ArkALMIGHTY.

Really? There was no way to meet needs before you dropped arkalmighty on us? We couldn't have, say, set up our own mailing list? Or maybe just talked to each other like Christians have been doing for thousands of years? And what if I don't go to a particular church? Do I not get to help people from other places?

I just did a quick check of Philadelphia churches. Thirteen are signed up. Zero have "needs posted." This never-before need-meeter is lighting the Philadelphia church community ON FIRE!

Turns out, Christendom in flyover country was already doing fine, sans condescension.

The privacy policy isn't awful, but the usual marketing stealthspeak means the only information they get out of me is that someone from my ISP visited them and clicked around.

==

Look, you can make the not-unconvincing argument that we can promote a movie AND encourage people to do good things at the same time. I am on this boat! Capitalism and kindness can co-exist! Kinditalism, maybe. Have to work up a better portmanteau.

But the boat I'll watch from the pier is the one where we try to float two gods. That boat will sink. A web site for Jesus with a URL and graphics that clearly indicate its commercial origin does not need a blatant advert on its front page. It does not need to detail my marketing opt-out options. It does not need the avuncular aegis of John Goodman to help sell it. Once again, a Grace Hill Media joint has uncomfortably strange bedfellows.

I'm still willing to give Bock some room. I've never met the guy, and maybe he's glorifying God. I'm willing to be convinced. However, I see more signs of nascent cupidity here than the Big Theta, and that's not the order we've been told to do things in.

One thing I feel pretty good about though: Morgan Freeman plays a better God than George Burns.

Horse Race to the Glue Factory

I just started reading about Ron Paul, Republican contender for the U.S. presidency in 2008. Now I don't know which doomed candidate to vocally, but not materially support.

I really like Mike Huckabee. I'm unenthused by his views of what the U.S. needs to be doing in Iraq, because he is saying borderline-nonsensical things like "We must win in Iraq," rather than, "We must solve the ridiculous problems our Commander-in-Chief created for us in Iraq." Other than that, the guy is saying the kinds of things I want to hear from a presidential candidate.

However, Mr. Paul is saying things like:

The war in Iraq was sold to us with false information. The area is more dangerous now than when we entered it. We destroyed a regime hated by our direct enemies, the jihadists, and created thousands of new recruits for them. This war has cost more than 3,000 American lives, thousands of seriously wounded, and hundreds of billions of dollars. We must have new leadership in the White House to ensure this never happens again.

Which, I mean, yeah.

Paul is more libertarian than I really want in a POTUS. But I wouldn't mind sending a Libertarian into national government to start swinging things his or her way. I don't want the Libertarian to control the whole swingset. But I want him on the playground right now. And unlike many Libertarians I've had the displeasure of sitting next to, Paul is both firm in his convictions and yet not belittling of others. How novel.

The strange thing to me is that both of these candidates are Republicans. I have approximately zero giveadamn for political parties, but for the last decade or so, I haven't heard many sensible things come out of Republican mouths. Suddenly, a cloudburst!

The Constitution party might have to work for my vote in 2008.

iHard

ZOMG, Mac guy is going to appeal to the 18-25 demographic in the next Die Hard movie with Bruce Willis! Fond memories and cynicism locked in EPIC STRUGGLE!

I love betting on wides eyes and fresh-scrubbed faces, but my money’s backing cynicism this time. Despite tempting shots of the Capitol, several someones seem to have failed to grasp the Die Hard high concept: the action takes place on, around, or in concert with a man-made structure.

Instead, we have what looks like 24 with a shorter run time (I hope).

Oh, fond memories. We’ll still have 1988, I suppose.

*Alternate post title: Yippiek-i-i-yay-Macerfucker.

Inspiration/Perspiration

I read this New York Magazine article a few weeks ago, lost it, then stumbled back onto it yesterday. Ignoring convention, I will identify it by its subtitle, The Inverse Power of Praise. From the article:

The researchers would take a single child out of the classroom for a nonverbal IQ test consisting of a series of puzzles—puzzles easy enough that all the children would do fairly well. Once the child finished the test, the researchers told each student his score, then gave him a single line of praise. Randomly divided into groups, some were praised for their intelligence. They were told, “You must be smart at this.” Other students were praised for their effort: “You must have worked really hard.”

Why just a single line of praise? “We wanted to see how sensitive children were,” Dweck explained. “We had a hunch that one line might be enough to see an effect.”

Then the students were given a choice of test for the second round. One choice was a test that would be more difficult than the first, but the researchers told the kids that they’d learn a lot from attempting the puzzles. The other choice, Dweck’s team explained, was an easy test, just like the first. Of those praised for their effort, 90 percent chose the harder set of puzzles. Of those praised for their intelligence, a majority chose the easy test. The “smart” kids took the cop-out.

The rest of the article explains and expounds on this phenomenon. It's a moderately involved read, but you can do it, because you're such a hard worker!

==

I have almost always been a "smart" kid. I'm trying to retrain myself to be an "effortful" kid.

I'm spelling out something the article doesn't seem to explicitly say; i.e., don't praise something a person has no control over. If I'm naturally smart, reinforcing that sends the message that the praiseworthy thing happens independently of me.

Which sucks because when I want more praise, I can't smarten up for it. All I can hope to do is maintain. This quickly becomes a lose-lose proposition: If I don't try for fear of looking dumber, I look dumber for not trying.

Instead, the trick is to reinforce aspects that people can control: effort, technique, time investment, practice. Then, there's a clear line to improve, and therefore, to get more praise. The natural abilities will kick in anyway, augmenting whatever effort is there.

Off and on, I've been applying this sort of talk to myself (and anyone else praiseworthy) for a few weeks. Meredith and I make kind of a game out of it.

I suspect drastic effects as described in the article are best observed in children. But I'm willing to accept less dramatic returns as long as I improve. All I need to do is keep working at it.

This also dovetails with another idea I've recently fiddled with: The most useful life skill to teach (and practice) is how to handle novelty and strangeness with curiosity. If you have some intelligence and that curiosity, whatever excellence you need will show up eventually. If you don't have it, you can still excel, but it will be a slog rather than a game.

I'd rather play games.

Falwell

So Jerry Falwell died, you probably heard. Three days ago. I'm a daily BoingBoing reader, and the ersatz theologians there and elsewhere on the intertubes have cacklingly committed him to hell.

But here's the fantastically redemptive thing about Christianity: even dicks get to go to heaven.

From what I read in the Bible, it's not my call, or my calling, to figure out who gets the eternal brass ring. I do know that murderers, liars, and thieves can all get the nod. Why shouldn't overbearing, unctuous, self-righteous hypocrites? Granted, it might even be harder for them, because it's the repentant who get the Goods. But that doesn't mean it's impossible.

I don't know about Jerry Falwell's spiritual fate. I fear the number of metaphorical millstones he hitched around frightened people's necks. I watched him do more harm than good, to my friends and to my religion.

But we all get slack if we ask for it. We don't have any way to know whether Falwell genuinely asked for slack from Jesus. But if he did, he's got it now.

That means there's hope for lower-order self-righteous hypocrites like you and me and the BoingBoing bloggers.

Bike To Work Week

What with it being bike to work week, I thought I'd try riding a bike to work this week. This is of course, a hilarious lie. It just so happens that I had no idea it was bike to work week until yesterday, and also, I'm freelancing right now, so my commute is 15 feet down a hallway.

But I do have a semi-volunteer teaching gig about a mile from our house, gas is $3 a gallon, and my newly minted wife has a bike she doesn't use. So today, I biked.

==

I excoriate bikers who disobey laws on their bikes. I hate hearing bikers bitch about how little respect they get on the road from car drivers, then watching them blithely run stop signs, ride on the sidewalk, and weave through traffic.

After all, hypocrisy is one of the last sins we can comfortable judge people on in our country. Even "intolerance" has fallen out of vogue, and everyone seemed to be able to get behind that one. What, are we not going to judge people any more? Ha ha! Of course not!

But we're also not going to stick our necks out and actually call anybody on it. So let's angrily lecture our friends in the car when bikers act like hypocrites! Is everybody with me? YEAH!

==

Bearing this in mind, I resolve to stand still and minimize whimpering when everyone throws rocks at me for the ridiculous things I did on a two mile round trip bike ride today. Highlights:

1. Never signaled. Not even once.
2. Took the "stop" out of "rolling stop."
3. Rode on the sidewalk when the road looked dicey.
4. Cut diagonally across a busy intersection to turn left (also see #1 for extra danger).
5. Did not watch the road when something more interesting was going on.

That's just day ONE! Tomorrow I plan to ride between lanes at a stop light and give drivers the finger when they honk at me. I think I get a sticker for that.

Another Jonathan Coulton Post

Here's a New York Times article about JoCo and the phenomenon of the Internet's effect on B-level creators. The author wants to suggest that the price of putting you in touch with your niche is hours every day of contact with them: answering emails, updating message boards, and appearing at online "events."

This is certainly ONE way to do it, and I am ready to believe it's the best way. But is it the only way? That level of interaction is exhausting.

This is not entirely academic for me right now.

Dog Days

I am co-owner of a dog now, which is nice, but annoying.

I like dogs. But what I really like are other people's dogs. My head is full of things to think about, and dogs are notably outside.

Too bad. Because wherever my head is, the dog is still right here, and still needs attention and food and exercise, and, dare I say, love.

Parents talk about pets as responsibility trainers for children. But no one ever talks about pets as responsibility trainers for would-be parents.

Momentum Mori

My chest has stopped hurting, so that's good.

Getting old holds no special terror for me.* Further, my interior monologue is uncharitable to people who complain about how old they feel. "You have been aging since you were a zygote. There's no surprise in it; you can't say you weren't warned. This is life. Also, you will later die. Let me break that one to you ahead of time."

I'm mostly resigned to aging, but I am interested in growing older, because people tend to know more things and make fewer horrifying mistakes when they are older, which are both attractive qualities to me.

Also, I have never been particularly "cool" which is conquered, occupied, territory of the young. There was a shining moment in the early '90s when grunge appeared, and fashion and I had a moment together, like sharing a taxi. Then we got out at our respective destinations and now... shiny blue ties? Are those still in?

So the chief benefit I saw in being a noticeably young man was the indestructibility. You jump off a 12-foot ledge, land wrong, your foot hurts -- six hours later, it's an editable detail in the hilarious tale of your Croatian friend, Kresimir, losing his keys. Pain was this thing that happened sometimes, and then you ate a bag of Doritos. The end.

I'm still not old, right? But the indestructibility is gone, which manifests in two distinctly horrible ways. First, lack of exercise is much more obvious when you behave strenuously. I used to never exercise and then walk up a mountain for fun and continue not exercising the next day. Easy.

Second, when a pain appears that you haven't had before, you begin to wonder, "What if this doesn't heal right? Is this the new normal? " Six hours, thirty-six hours, seventy-two hours later, it's still there, and you wonder, "Will my chest ache forever when I sneeze or turn sharply to the left? I don't know!"

Because, see, we went to Club Med on our honeymoon. We went to a "Sport" Club Med, which was fantastically entertaining, except that I am not a sportsy person. I am the sort of person who labors over a blog entry in a darkened room. And yet, I was quietly very, very excited at the prospect of learning to swing on a flying trapeze. It was, with no exaggeration, the fulfillment of a childhood fantasy.

Not swinging on a trapeze in a circus. That always seemed remote and not as thrilling as billed. I mean, there's a net below. Big deal. But why would you do it without a net? That's bad judgment. So trapeze as a performance art seemed... untenable.

The childhood fulfillment part was literally swinging on a trapeze at Club Med. I saw it as a child on some exotic travel show, and it seemed like the coolest vacation thing ever. You could go on vacation and learn to swing on a trapeze? Why doesn't everyone want to do that?

One possible reason is because it hurts. The skin on your hands gets ripped off, and in the following days you ache in places you didn't know you had muscles. It's a blast; I had a wonderful time; I'd go back and do it again, but man, ow.

And then it keeps hurting. This morning I noticed my chest hadn't hurt in a while. I stretched and breathed and twisted my torso. No pain. It's not the new normal. It's just the beginning of destructability.

Which helps explain why older people make fewer horrifying mistakes. In addition to experience, they don't have the physical capacity for it.

* Regular terror applies normally, of course.