Our New Birth Plan

Misty and I had dinner last night with Jon and Chrissie, some friends of ours since our time at Duke. Over Indian food we discussed Liza’s imminent birth and the whole concept of birth plans. Misty and I haven’t really put together a birth plan — we’re lazy, and it’s too much like work. But after our conversation, we’ve come up with one.

We’re going to give birth with dolphins.

Flair of the Spirit

How do you know who’s a Christian?

That’s not an easy question. No definitional one is. If you’d like to prove that statement, go into a room of geeks and ask, “How do you know what science fiction is? What’s fantasy? How do you tell the difference?” Then run very far away.

But to return to my original question, how do you know? Sure, people can profess to be Christians, but how can you be sure? It’s not as if we have a Christianity detector, or any other reliable way of reading people’s thoughts and opinions and categorizing them. We’re left with looking for external evidence of an internal state.

Christianity is supposed to be transformative. It’s supposed to make a difference in your life. One outward manifestation of this is supposed to be the fruit of the Spirit.

“Fruit of the Spirit” is one of those Christian terms of art. Roughly speaking, the Holy Spirit is God in us, guiding us and strengthening us. If the Holy Spirit is in us, we should demonstrate its fruit, as Paul talked about in Galatians.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.
Galatians 5:22-23 (NIV)

These are not exclusively Christian concepts, and Christians do not have a monopoly on them — in fact, based on the actions of a number of groups that identify themselves as Christian, we don’t display much of the fruit of the Spirit at all. So how do you use this to judge who’s Christian and who isn’t?

That’s why so many of us Christians don’t pay any attention to the fruit of the Spirit. We make up our own metrics, like political beliefs or stances on scientific matters. It’s how we end up declaring Bill Clinton to be a Christian in name only while affording full Christianhood to Ted Haggard.

Even that isn’t really good enough, though. Sure, elected officials and people in the media end up talking about what they believe, but how do I tell whether the guy on the train next to me is Christian or not? We need some obvious sign that a person is Christian. We need something like…

A play on the Staples 'Easy' button

Why, like that!

Christianity has always gleefully appropriated non-Christian symbols, the Christmas tree and the ichthys being prime examples. “Christian” shirts are the apotheosis of that practice. That’s not the real problem. The real problem is using this sort of junk to identify ourselves as Christians. It’s as if we’re not content to know that we’re Christian and act accordingly. We need to broadcast it to the world. So we put on t-shirts and buttons and WWJD bracelets, and we make sure everyone can see them.

There’s a name for all of these trinkets.

Joanna: You know what, Stan, if you want me to wear 37 pieces of flair, like your pretty boy over there, Brian, why don’t you just make the minimum 37 pieces of flair?
Stan: Well, I thought I remembered you saying that you wanted to express yourself.
Joanna: You know what, I do want to express myself, okay. And I don’t need 37 pieces of flair to do it.

Office Space gave the name “flair” to the buttons and other crap the waitstaff at restaurants like Bennigan’s wear to “express their personality”. It’s a wonderful word, flair. It indicates both the supposed purpose of the buttons and the cynical, soul-less motive behind it.

That’s what we’ve bought into. Instead of taking true Christian ideals, internalizing them, and trying to demonstrate Jesus’s love to those around us, we comfort ourselves by wearing trinkets. That way everyone around us can see our Flair of the Spirit.

It Turns Out, Being Pregnant Isn’t Much Fun.

This is a post that contains a bit of TMI about my personal physical situation. Don’t read the fourth paragraph if you don’t want to know the gory details.

So for the past two days, I’ve felt like crap. There just isn’t any nice way to say that. It’s how I’ve felt and I know I’ve been a bit of a grump about it. I have painful Braxton Hicks contractions that only go away if I lie down on my left side. My back has hurt and I’ve felt just gross. Well this morning I woke up at 5:30 with a bit of a panic attack. I got in the shower because being in the water always makes me feel better. It did make me feel physically better but the anxiety wouldn’t go away, so I called my doula.

She was great. She told me to take a warm bath, drink some tea and try to go back to sleep. The subtext of which was all, “Get a grip and relax a little bit!” She was pretty much unconcerned about what I was going through which was exactly what I needed to hear. So I did manage to go back to sleep for about an hour and a half.

About 8:30 I felt this very odd sensation and thought I should go to the bathroom right away. I lost my mucus plug which I had been completely unaware of with Eli. I’m guessing that this caused my upsurge of hormone-related anxiety. I called Jeanne again and she said that was probably why I had felt so bad. She very generously said we could move the appointment we set for Monday afternoon to this afternoon. I’m glad she’s coming. It makes me feel better already.

The Daylight Global Savings Warming Conspiracy

From Ambitious Wench‘s blog, a letter to the editor published in my old home-state newspaper, The Arkansas Democrat Gazette.

You may have noticed that March of this year was particularly hot. As a matter of fact, I understand that it was the hottest March since the beginning of the last century. All of the trees were fully leafed out and legions of bugs and snakes were crawling around during a time in Arkansas when, on a normal year, we might see a snowflake or two. This should come as no surprise to any reasonable person. As you know, Daylight Saving Time started almost a month early this year. You would think that members of Congress would have considered the warming effect that an extra hour of daylight would have on our climate. Or did they ?

Perhaps this is another plot by a liberal Congress to make us believe that global warming is a real threat. Perhaps next time there should be serious studies performed before Congress passes laws with such far-reaching effects.

CONNIE M. MESKIMEN
Hot Springs

There’s a scan of the letter, and Ambitious Wench tracked its publication date as April 16. My favorite part is the headline from the scan: “Daylight exacerbates warning”.

(My, er, thanks to James Nicoll, on whose journal I saw it first)

Update: According to Missy, Connie Meskimen is indeed a bankruptcy lawyer who has practiced in Hot Springs and Little Rock, and who has a pretty good peer rating.

Baby Liza update (37 1/2 weeks)

I went to the doctor this morning and the baby? she is coming sooner rather than later. Everything looks good and the doctor says that when labor starts, she is ready for me to go. I would give you the details about my cervix but I’m guessing that you are probably not that interested. (If you do want to know, email me and I’ll tell you.) My BP is good, the baby’s HB is 150s, and I’ve gained 7 lbs total. Which means that when I come home from the hospital, I’ll probably weigh less than I did before I got pregnant.

There is indeed a God.

The grandmoms are all in panic mode because they think it’s too soon but I think I’m pretty ready at this point. As ready as I’m going to get, I guess.

Happy International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day

A while back, Howard V. Hendrix sounded off about people posting works for free online, calling people who do so “webscabs” and “Pixel-stained Technopeasant Wretch[es]”. Given that he’s the current VP of the SFWA, the organization for professional writers of science fiction and fantasy, and so many SFWA members have posted works for free online, it caused quite a bit of uproar. In response, Jo Walton, who is up for a Nebula this year, decided to turn this into something good and declared April 23rd to be International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day.

On this day, everyone who wants to should give away professional quality work online. It doesn’t matter if it’s a novel, a story or a poem, it doesn’t matter if it’s already been published or if it hasn’t, the point is it should be disseminated online to celebrate our technopeasanthood.

Whatever you’re posting should go on your own site. I’ll make a post here on the day and people can post links in comments to whatever they’re putting up on. If you are a member of SFWA, or SFWA qualified but not a member (like me) you get extra pixel-spattered points for doing this. If other people want to collect the links too, that would be really cool. Please disseminate this information widely.

I’m taking part, though my contribution is not a novel, story or poem. It’s a tutorial I sold to PC Plus UK last year on how to write a text adventure using the programming language Inform 7.

In the spirit of the day, here are some of my picks for what you might enjoy reading.

  • April 29th, by Nick Mamatas. The aliens have arrived on Earth, and Jeremy is coming to grips with them.
  • Bury the Dead, by Ann Leckie. A family’s Thanksgiving dinner, complete with family secrets.
  • The Famous Ape, by Chris Roberson. Apes and elephants and the tensions between them.
  • Missile Gap, by Charles Stross. Charlie’s alternate-history novella involving the Cold War. Currently on the Locus award shortlist for best novella.
  • Parting Gifts, by Diane Duane. One of the few short works set in her Middle Kingdoms universe.
  • Redemption, Drawing Near, by Michael Jasper. The aliens have landed, and they want a priest.
  • Think of a Pink Ship, by Chris Roberson. Caution: contains adult content. The aliens have landed right next to Clay and Molly.

I’ll update this as the day goes on and as I have time to look through other submissions. If you want to see them all yourself, take a look at Jo Walton’s list or the IPSTP Livejournal community.

UPDATE as promised:

  • Bad Medicine, by Martha Wells. A wielder of magic and something from the world beyond.
  • Domovoi, by M.K. Hobson. The main character is a murder, a rapist, and a real-estate developer.
  • Dragon Offerings, by Janni Lee Simner. Do dragons really like Oreos?
  • Glass: A Love Story, by Jay Lake. Love and loss in an unusual urban fantasy.
  • Immortal Sin, by Jennifer Pelland. A tutorial on how to outrun God.
  • New Hope for the Dead, by David Langford. The approaching singularity can be tough on posthumans as well.
  • The Queen’s Mirror, by Debra Doyle and James D. Macdonald. I’m a sucker for stories that play off of fairy tales.
  • The Seventh Letter, by Sean Williams. Georges Perec would be pleased.
  • Signs of Life, by Barbara Krasnoff. Drug use and deafness in space.
  • A Terror in Flesh, by Andrew Plotkin. Zombies, plus something else I shan’t say for fear of spoiling the story.
  • Thorns, by Martha Wells. Did I mention that I’m a sucker for stories that play off of fairy tales?
  • Wellsprings of Genius, by Robert Reed. One of the more interesting choices for the day, given its topic of intellectual property.
  • When Jabberwocks Attack, by Kelly Mccullough. What happens to classics majors who need jobs.
  • Words Written in Fire, by Yoon Ha Lee. A very short story about a young firebug.

My Husband Rocks!

Last weekend, I jetted off to Nashville to hang out with the gals and Stephen hung out with Eli. Today, I had a baby shower lunch to attend and a church function immediately following. So once again, Stephen was in charge of Eli pretty much all day. (Now granted this morning wasn’t that big of a deal, since he slept from 9-noon.)

But this afternoon not only did he entertain a toddler of uncertain mood and physical well-being but he also managed to strike the full bed in the guest room, get it situated in Eli’s room for my approval, set up the crib in Liza’s room, vacuum about half the rugs in the house and when I arrived, they were dust mopping the hardwood floors.

It is apparent to me I should either leave more often or be pregnant and whine more. Whatever caused all this good work to get done, I am thankful from the bottom of my pregnant heart. Now don’t you all wish you had a Stephen?

P.S. Here’s Eli on his big boy bed…
img_8689.jpg

There Is No Substitute For Mom

I was working on a project last night around 9:30 when Eli came padding into the room. He’d been in bed for over an hour, and now here he stood, looking distraught, his arms held out in a drooping cruciform. “Daddy,” he said, and “daddy.”

Then the smell hit me.

We went into his room to clean up his supper and a good portion of his lunch, which was now on his bed, his clothes, and his two favorite stuffed animals. We whisked everything off and to the washing machine.

(I guess I should have warned you about the vomit ahead of time. Sorry! Think of it this way: you got as much warning as we did.)

Eli sat with Misty while I cleaned up. “I’m sorry,” he told us several times. He then vomited again into a metal bowl I’d grabbed for such an emergency. “Thank you for cleaning me up.”

He proceeded to throw up every fifteen to twenty minutes. I offered to sit with Eli, but he was having none of that. He wanted mom. They read and watched TV before settling down to fitful dozing. I brought paper towels and cleaned out the metal bowl as needed. Misty finally sent me to get some sleep around midnight, and at 1 Eli had been asleep long enough that we felt safe to put him to bed. I stumbled out of bed to help get him to his. He was so tired that he tripped over the edge of his bed, fell face first into the mattress, and was asleep again.

He got up at 6, but now he’s back in bed. Don’t expect much from us today.

Friday Night Videos: Paper Cutouts

Eskimo Disco: Picture Perfect (2005)

Man cuts out pictures of people; people dance. I dunno, this is an interesting concept, but the execution leaves a bit to be desired. On the plus side, there’s a keytar. Keytar!

Switchfoot: Awakening (2007)

Here’s what Eskimo Disco could have done with paper cutouts — mimic Guitar Hero. The video has a story line, stuff happens, and Tony Hale (“Hey, brother”) is in the video. A far better effort than the above, and a lot more fun. But I’m sad to see what happened to the Guitar Hero interface now that Activision bought it.

(Thanks to dfan for the Switchfoot video.)