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The Holiday War I’m (Still) Not Declaring

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Department Of But First, This Public Service Announcement

Moiself  was on a podcast! Or, at least my voice was.

As longtime or even new readers of this blog have surmised, I regularly listen to a variety of podcasts.  Most of them may be categorized, as per subject matter, as having to do with the incredibly broad topics of science, the brain, and human behavior as seen and analyzed through a variety of perspectives.    [1]

One of my favorites of these podcasts is No Stupid Questions Near the end of each NSQ episode the hosts ask for listener feedback, via sending a voice recording to the show’s email address. At the end of each episode two or three listener comments regarding previous episodes are played.

Dateline:  Sunday morning walk; circa 7:50 am; listening to the latest NSQ podcast ( #216: Why Do We Make Excuses? ) I was surprised to hear *my* voice memo played at the end of the show, proving feedback to the previous week’s episode ( #215: Is It Okay To Do The Right Thing For The Wrong Reason? ).

I shouldn’t have been surprised – after all, *I* made the memo and emailed it to the show – but within a week I’d forgotten that I’d done so.  As is often par for the course when it comes to hearing your own voice on tape, at first moiself  didn’t even realize that it was my voice, until a couple of sentences in when I recognized the content ( Oh yeah, that’s me…yikes, that’s me?  Crap, I can hear the remnants of the slight lisp I had as a child [addressed in this blog], which resurfaces when I’m tired or need a glass of water…and danged if I don’t hear the echo of my family tones – specifically, my two sisters’ – in my own voice….).

 

 

 
You’d have to listen to this podcast episode (or scroll forward to approx.. 38:09, or read the transcript here) to get to the listener comments regarding the previous episode.  As previously mentioned, the episode I commented upon addressed the subject of “Doing the right thing for the wrong reasons,” as in, does that somehow negate the good deed or the right thing that you did?  I also liked the perspective of the comment which played after mine, from “Ian,” (a fellow Oregonian!), who pointed out the hidden problems and unexpected consequences in doing the right thing for the right reasons.

 

 

On to the main event.

 

*   *   *

Department Of Here They Come

Halloween (aka All Hallow’s Eve); Samhain; All Saint’s Day; El Dia de los Muertos; Mischief Night, Diwali

In the USA and in northern hemisphere countries around the world, there are multiple holidays with a relationship to “our” Halloween.  The relationship is as per the time of year and/or the theme, underlying beliefs, customs or origins of the various celebrations.

Many of these holidays originated as dual celebrations – acknowledgments of times of both death and rebirth – as celebrants marked the end of the harvest season and acknowledged the cold, dark winter to come.

And after Halloween, the holiday season really gets going.

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Life Is Tough But It’s Even Tougher If You’re Stupid
Chapter 22467 in a (never-ending) series

 “The idea of a “War on Christmas” has turned things like holiday greetings and decorations into potentially divisive political statements. People who believe Christmas is under attack point to inclusive phrases like “Happy Holidays” as (liberal) insults to Christianity….
Christmas is a federal holiday celebrated widely by the country’s Christian majority. So where did the idea that it is threatened come from?
The most organized attack on Christmas came from the Puritans, who banned celebrations of the holiday in the 17th century because it did not accord with their interpretation of the Bible….”
(“How the ‘War on Christmas’ Controversy Was Created,” NY Times, 12-19-16)

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of If Something Seems Familiar, That’s Because It’s Time For
My Annual Holiday Traditions Explained ® Post

What do we vegetarians, vegans, non-meat and/or plant-based eaters
do on Thanksgiving?
( Other than, according to your Aunt Erva, RUIN  IT  FOR  EVERYONE  ELSE.   [2]  )

The above question is an existential dilemma worthy of Soren Kierkegaard, the Danish philosopher, who wrote eloquent discourses on the subjective and objective truths one must juggle when choosing between a cinnamon roll and a chocolate swirl.   [3]

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of I’ll Take Those Segues Where I Can Find Them

Four weeks from today will be the day-after feasting, for many of us. Then, just when you’re recovering from the last leftover turkey sandwich/quiche/casserole/enchilada-induced salmonella crisis and really, really, need to get outside for some fresh air, here comes the Yule season. You dare not even venture to the mall, lest your eardrums be assaulted from all sides by Have a Holly Jolly Christmas, Feliz Navidad, ad nauseum.

This observation provides a convenient segue to my annual, sincere, family-friendly,  [4]

Heathens Declare War On Christmas © post.

 

 

As to those Henny Penny/Chicken Little hysterics proclaiming a so-called “war” on Christmas, a rational person can only assume that they are not LGBTQ, or Jewish or a member of another minority religion, or an ethnic minority – in other words, they’ve never experienced actual bigotry (or actual combat).  If they had, it’s likely they would not have trivialized discrimination (or war) with their whining.

The usage of  “Happy Holidays” as an “attack on Christianity” is an invention of right-wing radio talk show hosts.  Happy Holidays  is nothing more nor less than an encompassing shorthand greeting – an acknowledgement of the incredible number of celebratory days, religious and otherwise, which in the U.S. is considered to start in October with Halloween, moving on to November with Thanksgiving (although our Canadian neighbors and friends celebrate their Thanksgiving in October) and extending into and through January, with the various New Year’s celebrations.

It is worthwhile to note that while many if not most Americans, Christian or not, celebrate Christmas, there are also some Christians who, on their own or as part of their denomination’s practice or decree (e.g., Jehovah’s Witnesses and The Worldwide Church of God), do *not* celebrate Christmas   [5]   (nor did our much-ballyhooed forebears, the Pilgrims).  Also, the various Orthodox Christian denominations use calendars which differ from most Protestant and Catholic calendars (a biggie for them at this time of the year is the Nativity of Christ, which occurs on or around January 7).

Happy Holidays — it’s plural, and for good reason.  It denotes the many celebrations that happen during these months.  People in the northern hemisphere countries, from North, Central and South Americans and Egyptians to the Celts and Norskis, have marked the Winter Solstice for thousands of years, and many still do.  And some Americans, including our friends, neighbors and co-workers, celebrate holidays that although unconnected with the winter solstice occur near it, such as Ramadan, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa.

 

In 2024 the Chinese (lunar) New Year began on on February10; in 2025 it will begin on January 29

 

Most folks are familiar with the “biggies”- Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day. But don’t forget the following holidays, many of which my family has learned about (or celebrated with) via our children’s teachers and fellow students, and our neighbors and co-workers.

* The Birth of the Prophet (Nov. 12) and Day of the Covenant (Nov. 26) are both Baha’i holy days  (our family has had Baha’i teachers, childcare providers, and neighbors).

* St. Nicholas Day (Dec. 6).

* Bodhi Day.  Our Buddhist friends and neighbors celebrate Bodhi Day on December 8 (or on the Sunday immediately preceding).

* Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe (Dec 12).

* St. Lucia Day (Dec. 13) Our Swedish neighbors and friends celebrate St. Lucia Day, as did one of our daughter Belle’s and son K’s schools, when they were in grade school (Belle, as the oldest 3rd grade girl, got to play St. Lucia).

* Bill of Rights Day (Dec 15).

* Pancha Ganapati Festival (one of the most important Hindu festivals, Dec. 21st through the 25th,  celebrated by many of MH’s coworkers).

* The Winter Solstice (varies, Dec.  21 or 22, this year on the 21st ).

* Little Christmas Eve (Dec.  23) Celebrated by my family, LCE was a custom of the small Norwegian village of my paternal grandfather’s ancestors.

* Boxing Day (Dec. 26), celebrated by our Canadian-American and British-American neighbors and friends.

*Ramadan and/or Eid, the Islamic New Year (as Islam uses a lunar calendar the dates of their holidays varies, but these holidays aresometimes during November-December)

* The Chinese New Year.  I always look forward to wishing my sister-in-law, a naturalized American citizen who is Cantonese by birth, a Gung Hay Fat Choy.  (The Chinese Lunar calendar is the longest chronological record in history, dating from 2600 BCE.  The New Year is celebrated on second new moon after the winter solstice, and so can occur in January or February).

This is not a complete list. See why it’s easier to say, “Happy Holidays”?

The USA is one of the most religiously diverse nations in the world.  To insist on using the term “Merry Christmas” as the all-encompassing seasonal greeting could easily be seen as an attack on the religious beliefs of all of the Americans who celebrate the *other* holidays and festivals.  At the least, it denotes the users’ ignorance of their fellow citizens’ beliefs and practices.

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Did You Know…

…that the Reverend Increase Mather of Boston observed in 1687 that, “the early Christians who first observed the Nativity on December 25 did not do so thinking that Christ was born in that Month, but because the Heathens’ Saturnalia was at that time kept in Rome, and they were willing to have those Pagan Holidays metamorphosed into Christian ones.”   [6]

…that because of its known pagan origins, Christmas was banned by the Puritans, and its observance was illegal in Massachusetts until 1681.   [7]

 

 

 “Do you celebrate Christmas?”

We Heretics/apostates non-Christians Happy Heathens ®  often hear this question at this time of year.  The inquiry is sometimes presented in ways that imply our celebration (or even acknowledgement) of Christmas is hypocritical.  This implication is the epitome of cheek, when you consider the fact that it is the early Christians who stole a festival from our humanist (pagan) forebears, and not the other way around.

Who doesn’t like a party, for any reason?  We who are religion-free don’t mind sharing seasonal celebrations with religious folk – sans the superstition and government/church mumbo-jumbo –  as long as they accept the fact that the ways we all celebrate this “festive season” predate Christianity by hundreds of years.

 

 

Early Roman Catholic missionaries tried to convert northern Europeans to the RC brand of Christianity, and part of the conversion process was to alter the pagan’s existing religious festivals. The indigenous folk, whom the RC church labeled “barbarians,” quickly discovered that when it came to dealing with missionaries, resistance is futile. The pagans intuitively grasped the concept of natural selection and converted to Christianity to avoid the price (persecution, torture, execution) of staying true to their original beliefs.  But they refused to totally relinquish their traditional celebrations, and so the church, eventually and effectively, simply renamed most of them.    [8]

Pagan practices were given a Christian meaning to wipe out “heathen” revelry.  This was made official church policy in 601 A.D., when Pope Gregory the First issued the now infamous edict to his missionaries regarding the traditions of the peoples they wanted to convert. Rather than try to banish native customs and beliefs, missionaries were directed to assimilate them. You find a group of people decorating and/or worshiping a tree? Don’t chop it down or burn it; rather, bless it in the name of the Church.  Allow its continued worship, only tell the people that, instead of celebrating the return of the sun-god in the spring, they are now worshiping the rising from the dead of the Son of God.

( Easter is the one/odd exception, where a pagan celebration was adapted by Christians without a name change. Easter is a word found nowhere in the Bible. It comes from the many variants (Eostra, Ester, Eastra, Eastur….) of a Roman deity, goddess of the dawn “Eos” or “Easter,” whose festival was in the Spring.)

The fir boughs and wreaths; the Yule log; plum pudding; gift exchanges; feasting; the holly and the ivy and the evergreen tree….It is hard to think of a “Christmas” tradition that does not originate from Teutonic (German), Viking, Celtic and Druid paganism.   [9]   A celebration in the depths of winter – at the time when, to those living in the Northern Hemisphere, the sun appears to stop its southerly descent before gradually ascending north – is a natural instinct. For thousands of years our Northern Hemisphere ancestors greeted the “reason for the season” – the winter solstice – with festivals of light and gift exchanges and parties.  The Winter Solstice was noted and celebrated long before the Roman Jesus groupies pinched the party.

But, isn’t “Jesus is the reason for the season”?

The reason for the season?  Cool story, bro.  Since you asked; actually, axial tilt is the reason for the season.  For *all* seasons.

 

 

And Woden is the reason the middle of the week is named Wednesday.   [10]   My calling Wednesday “Wednesday” doesn’t mean I celebrate, worship, or “believe in” Woden.  I don’t insist on renaming either Christmas or Wednesday.

 

“Now, go fetch me the brazen little sheisskopfs who took the Woden out of Woden’s Day!”

 

The Winter Solstice is the day with the shortest amount of sunlight, and the longest night. In the northern hemisphere it falls on what we now mark as December 21 or 22.  However, it took place on December 25th at the time when the Julian calendar was used.  [11]   The early Romans celebrated the Saturnalia on the Solstice, holding days of feasting and gift exchanges in honor of their god Saturn ( Other major deities whose birthdays were celebrated on or about the week of December 25   [12]   included Horis, Huitzilopochtli, Isis, Mithras, Marduk, Osiris, Serapis and Sol ).  The Celebration of the Saturnalia was too popular with the Roman pagans for the new Christian church to outlaw it, so the new church renamed the day and reassigned meanings to the traditions.    [13]

In other words, why are some folk concerned with “keeping the Christ in Christmas”  [14]  when we should be keeping the Saturn in Saturnalia?

 

 

*   *   *

Whatever your favorite seasonal celebrations may be, moiself  wishes you all the best.

May you have the occasion to (with good humor) ruin it for everyone else;
May you find it within yourself to ignore the Black Friday mindset;
May you remember to keep the Saturn in Saturnalia;
…and may the fruitcake-free hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] I will dump them all the first time I catch wind (no, not intended) of the first all elephant/fart joke podcast.

[2] You have an Aunt Erva, somewhere.  We all do.

[3] Damn right I’m proud of that one.

[4] Well, yeah, as compared to the usual shit I write.

[5] And a grade school friend of mine, whose family were Jehovah’s Witnesses, considered being told, “Merry Christmas” to be an attack on *her* beliefs.

[6]Increase Mather, A Testimony against Several Prophane and Superstitious Customs, Now Practiced by Some in New England” (London, 1687).  See also Stephen Nissenbaum, The Battle for Christmas: A Cultural History of America’s Most Cherished Holiday,” New York: Vintage Books, 1997.

[7] Stephen Nissenbaum, “The Battle for Christmas: A Cultural History of America’s Most Cherished Holiday.”

[8]Paganism in Christianity.”

[9]  “Learn not the way of the heathen…their customs are vain, for one cuts a tree out of the forest…they deck it with silver and gold…” Jeremiah 10:2-5

[10] Wednesday comes from the Old English Wōdnesdæg, the day of the Germanic god Wodan (aka Odin, highest god in Norse mythology and a big cheese god of the Anglo-Saxons until the seventh century.)

[11] The Julian calendar, adopted by Julius Caesar ~ 46 B.C.E., was off by 11 min/year, and when the Gregorian calendar was established by Pope – wait for it – Gregory,  the solstice was established on 12/22.

[12] The Winter Solstice and the Origins of Christmas, Lee Carter.

[13] In 601 A.D., Pope Gregory I issued a now famous edict to his missionaries regarding wooing potential converts: don’t banish peoples’ customs, incorporate them. If the locals venerate a tree, don’t cut it down; rather, consecrate the tree to JC and allow its continued worship.

[14] And nothing in the various conflicting biblical references to the birth of JC has the nativity occurring in wintertime.

The Personality Test I’m Not Taking

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Department Of Sometimes It Takes Me Some Time To Get Back To Something…

Something like this:

 “Moiself  could (and may, eventually) share more stories re my encounters with Scientology adherents at UCD. “

This teaser was from one department of my May 3 blog post ( The Czechoslovakian Freedom Fighter I’m Not Housing ).  This department shall be repeated here before I go on to share the more stories:

Department Of All-Time Great Pranks

This slice o’ life story is courtesy of the six degrees of separation principle vis-à-vis my   [1]   neurons making the connections that they…just make, sometimes.

Dateline: last Saturday 7:45 AM-ish; walking.  The podcast I was listening to reminded me of some actor,    [2]  who reminded me of another actor, which reminded me that one of those actors is either currently or formerly a Scientologist, which brought to mind one of the greatest pranks ever played on me, which occurred when I was in college at UC Davis.

Way back then the town of Davis had a very active Scientology Center.  I use the term  Center deliberately – there was no “Church of Scientology” at that time,  [3]    a fact that Scientologists boastfully emphasized in their recruitment efforts.  When a Scientology proselytizer knocked on your door or approached you on the campus quad, and you as the average student/citizen had no interest in taking the time to challenge Scientology bullshit beliefs, it’s likely you’d use some version of the customary brushoff:

 “No thanks/not interested, I have my own religion.”

The eager beaver Scientologist would scoff, “Religion?!? Scientology is *not* a religion!” The Scientology recruiter would use that as an entryway into assuring their target that there’d be no conflict in learning about Scientology – “which, *not* being a religion, would not require any renouncing of your personal religious beliefs – which is a proven/effective method/philosophy combining spirituality and Science ®, to handle stress and show pathways to healthy and successful lives….”

 

 

Moiself  could (and may, eventually) share more stories re my encounters with Scientology adherents at UCD.  Instead, the afore-mentioned prank, which discerning readers will surmise has something to do with Scientology, will now take center stage.

My college boyfriend “Scott,”   [4]  no fan of any supernatural beliefs (including the religions of the dominant culture, one of which I pretended to believe in, at the time), considered Scientology to be the most egregious example of spiritual and intellectual quackery.  As a student who would go on to get undergraduate and graduate degrees in several scientific disciplines, Scott particularly objected to the cult’s organization using the word science in any way shape or form.

I knew that Scott had visited the Scientology Center at least once, to check it out, after I’d amused him with my tales of encountering Scientology recruiters on campus.  Scott and his best friend “Bruce” returned the favor, amusing moiself  and a couple of my apartment mates one evening when they showed up at our apartment, pulled out a small tape recorder from Bruce’s book bag, and played back Scott’s session with a Scientology auditor which, unbeknownst to the auditor, they had surreptitiously recorded with the tape recorder hidden in Bruce’s book bag.

The tape’s audio wasn’t all that great, but we could hear enough to be both flabbergasted and highly entertained, as the auditor asked Scott a series of questions while Scott grasped both handholds of the infamous Scientology E-Meter.

 

 

The  E-meter is (was? Are they still using that batshit crazy thang?) a crude electronic device meant to mimic a polygraph, and was used by Scientology auditors (“counselors”) to purportedly “examine a person’s mental state.”   [5]   In terms of sophisticated electronic devices, Scott described the E-meter as perhaps one or two steps above using a “telephone” consisting of two tin cans connected by kite string.

One evening about a week after Scott entertained us with the E-meter tape, I heard a knock at my apartment door.  My three roommates and I had a lot of regular visitors to our apartment, most of whom just opened the door and announced their arrival – so, someone who actually bothered to knock was something different, maybe even special.  When I opened the door I beheld a young man standing on our welcome mat.  He was carrying some kind of satchel and a piece of paper with a name and address on it.  He looked at me, then past me to my three (all-female) roommates who were in the living room, then down at his paper, then his eyes traveled back up to our apartment door.  He asked if this was 224 A St. apartment 16?  When I replied in the affirmative, he said that he was here at the behest of a man named “Victor Lazlo, who visited the Scientology Center and expressed a desire to  ‘get clear.’

VICTOR LAZLO ?!?!?!   [6]

Had I been sipping a beverage there’s no way I could have avoided a classic spit take.

 

 

Young Scientology Man seemed undeterred by my and my roommates’ scarcely muffled guffaws.  I got rid of him by throwing him a bone, something ala, “Oh, yeah, Victor – he moved back on campus,” and giving him the dorm address of a male friend of mine.   [7]

 

 

*   *   *

And Now, The More/Eventually Story To Be Shared

Moiself  was fairly adept at deflecting the various proselytizers that you’d typically find on a college campus in the late 1970s.  The usual suspects included Christian evangelicals, Hare Krishnas, survivors acolytes of EST (the devotees of which were referred to as ESTholes by the rest of us), even Rolfing.

 

 

Yes, really.  Strange, how something which started out as a kind of massage/physical therapy devolved into claiming it could provide physical and mental health benefits by balancing the human body’s “energy field”…stranger still was the number of rabid Rolfers moiself  encountered at UCD.

Once again, I digress.

As entertaining as Rolfers and ESTholes could be (for EST, read: annoying over entertaining), after my first encounter with a L. Ron Hubbard patsy devotee, shaming and/or battling Scientologist recruiters was, for a brief but glorious time, my forte.

That first encounter occurred on one late autumn night during my freshman year, when moiself  decided to take a study break outside.  Reveling in the briskness of a chilly but non-rainy, non-cloudy evening, I sat on a small grassy knoll outside of my dorm, and enjoyed the peace of looking up at the stars twinkling (they really do that) in the crystal clear sky.  I enjoyed the solitude; save for some guy on the patio by the dorm entrance ( he was fiddling with his bicycle – changing a tire? ) I had the grounds to moiself.

 

 

After about five minutes I noticed two people walking on one of the paved paths which led from the central campus to the student living complexes (which included my dorm).  They saw me, exchanged brief words with each other, and the guy headed toward me while the girl headed for the guy on the dorm patio.

This, I was later to learn, was the MO  for Scientology recruiters:  establishing an “in” with the possibility of heterosexual flirting.  Translation: if you were female, a male Scientologist would seek you out, and if you were male, a female Scientologist would be your initial “encounter.” Of course, I didn’t know he was a Scientologist at first glance, but he soon revealed his motives.

My Scientology would-be boytoy was handsome, friendly, and persistent in trying to establish a rapport with me.  He began a (one-way) conversation in which he tried to elicit from moiself  some hidden reasons as to why I was outside at night, sitting on the grass, alone.  Perhaps there was something troubling me, with school, or my life?  He used to feel alone, even confused, until he found something that made a huge difference…and he’d like to share that with me.

 

 

Moiself  found him amusing (which was not his intent), but basically harmless; he was only slightly nonplussed when I told him that, sorry to disappoint him, but there was nothing ulterior about my mood or motives – I’d just come outside for a study break, to be alone (AHEM) and savor a few moments of non-academic peace before heading back to finish a paper.

When I returned to my dorm I told several friends and dormmates about the encounter.  I found out that what to me was a new experience – being “hit on” by a Scientologist – was a common thing for many students.  Upon hearing their stories, I became genuinely curious about those wacky Xenu   [8]  fans, and sought out the opinions/experiences of resident advisors, professors, local journalists, and journalism students.  One of my journalism-crowd friends (MJCF) interned with and later wrote for the LA Times, where he established a relationship with an older LAT  reporter who’d known L. Ron Hubbard, the sci fi writer who founded Scientology.  The older writer is one of several people who’d heard Hubbard’s declaration, “You don’t get rich writing science fiction.  If you want to get rich, you start a religion.”  MJCF also told me how Scientologists used threats and intimidation and aggressive lawyering, against journalists and civilians, to quell investigations into their organization.  Eventually I went to the university library to expand my research, further developing my interest –  “interest” as in the kind of morbid curiosity which makes you turn your head to look at a gruesome traffic accident as you drive past the carnage – in the organization.

During my sophomore year I moved from the dorms to an off-campus apartment.  My apartment mates and I subscribed to the local Davis newspaper.  The Scientology Center in Davis bought advertisements in the paper, which consisted of a questionnaire ( “personality test”) which was inserted, along with ads for the local grocery stores and other advertising inserts.

 

 

The Oxford Capacity Analysis (OCA), also known as the American Personality Analysis, is a list of questions which is advertised as being a personality test and that is administered for free by the Church of Scientology as part of its recruitment process….It has no relation to the University of Oxford, although the name may have been chosen to imply a link.
The test is an important part of Scientology recruitment and is used worldwide by the Church of Scientology to attract new members. However, it is not a scientifically recognized test and has been criticized by numerous psychology organizations, who point out that it is not a genuine personality test and that Scientology recruiters use it in a highly manipulative and unethical fashion.
( Wikipedia entry for OCA )

 

 

That insert, along with the other ad flyers, usually got tossed by whichever apartment mate picked up the newspaper.  One night a friend and I read through the questionnaire before tossing it.  It was hilarious.  We joked about actually filling it out, turning it in to the Scientology Center, and seeing what would happen.  But I had another idea.

I was taking a required class for my major – the name of the class escapes me, but it had to do with statistical/data gathering and data analysis, including survey and questionnaire design.  [9]    One day I stayed after class and presented the professor with the Scientology personality test.  He literally squealed with joy as he read through it, and begged to keep my copy – he said he wanted to use it in his next class session, as the ultimate example of a poorly designed questionnaire.  It was filled with at least a dozen examples of questionnaire design no-nos, including double- and even triple-ended questions; questions that require presumptive or unknown knowledge; questions framed as yes or no questions but which could not be truthfully answered with a yes or no….

The professor thanked me profusely for providing him with what he said was hard to come by – a real life example of shoddy questionnaire design.  He said that typically, when he’d get to the vital topic of questionnaire and survey composition, students were bored by the subject, particularly if they only had theoretical examples to discuss.  Sure enough, one day the following week he devoted a good deal of his class lecture time to presenting and discussing that epitome of an excruciatingly poorly designed questionnaire, which, he crowed, contained within it every example he’d been teaching us re the type of substandard and misleading questions which would give you faulty data.

 

 

During my years years living in off-campus apartments, while spurning the other religious proselytizers who’d occasionally darken my doorstep, I maintained a soft spot in my heart for the pathetic Lost Boys of Scientology.  I learned as much as I could stomach about the cult, and actually invited a few newbies (who were fulfilling some kind of mission duty by doing the door-to-door thing, which they readily admitted to when I questioned them about it) into my apartment.  After charming/disarming them with my  joi de ivre and seeming interest, I peppered them with info they didn’t know, including Scientology history, the whereabouts of L. Ron ( who at that point in time had seemingly disappeared     [10]  ), and questions and critiques about and of the cult that they could not counter.  At that point most of them left skid marks getting away from me and out the apartment door, although one memorable, forlorn soul meekly and gratefully accepted my referral to the UCD student mental health center ( for help in getting clear of Scientology ).

 

 

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [11]

My children know how to distinguish fact from fiction — which is harder for children raised religious. They don’t assume conventional wisdom is true and they do expect arguments to be based on evidence. Which means they have the skills to be engaged, informed and savvy citizens.

(  excerpt from “America doesn’t need more God. It needs more atheists.”
Opinion, Washington Post 10-3-23, by Kate Cohen, columnist and author of
We of Little Faith: Why I Stopped Pretending to Believe [and maybe you should, too] )

 

 

 

*   *   *

May we stop pretending to believe what we don’t think is true;
May we stay clear of cult recruitment;
 May we remember that cults are just religions
with less money/influence/effective public relations;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] In olden days referred to as “the six handshakes” principle, Six degrees of separation is the theory the idea that anyone can be connected to any other person via six or fewer social connections – that is, a chain of “friend of a friend” statements can connect any two people in a maximum of six steps.  For example, let’s say that, despite having never been to China or having met him, moiself  claims to have a connection to Chairman Mao Zedong, to whom I am connected, six-degrees style, via my sister-in-law who is from Canton, whose great uncle was an aide to a vice president of the Chinese communist party who served under Mao.  (BTW, my SIL is from Canton, but that’s the only part of that example that is true….I think).

[2] An actor who was not mentioned in the podcast…but, there it is.

[3] The Internal Revenue Service did not recognize Scientology as a “charitable and religious organization” until 1993, after a 37-year dispute and controversial negotiations.

[4] Not his real name.

[5] As in, if used by a properly trained (ahem) auditor, the device can allow the operator to “see a thought”  and uncover hidden lies and other thought “crimes. “

[6] A key character in the movie Casablanca, Victor Lazlo (played by Paul Heinreid) was the heroic Czechoslovakian resistance leader, and unintended rival to (Humphrey Bogart’s) Rick Blaine for the affections of Ilsa Lund, Lazlo’s wife (played by Ingrid Bergman).

[7] Damn! All these years later, I think I’d forgotten to ask them if the guy ever showed up.

[8] Xenu is a figure in the secretive “Advanced Technology” teaching.  The story of Xenu is normally/only revealed to members who have completed a lengthy  and expensive sequence of courses – Scientology avoids mentions of Xenu in public statements and has tried to maintain the story’s confidentiality…but, hello, internet and ex-Scientologists spilling the beans.

[9] The class was as hair-pullingly boring exciting as it sounds, but vitally important for budding grad students in the social sciences (I was prelaw, majoring in Criminal Justice major). 

[10] (excerpt from Wikipedia Life of L. Ron Hubbard from 1975 to 1986: “….Hubbard went into hiding while his wife Mary Sue ran the Guardian’s Office. During this period, his second son committed suicide, two (Scientology) agents were caught in the act of theft at IRS headquarters as part of the Church’s Operation Snow White, the FBI simultaneously raided two Scientology compounds on opposite sides of the USA, discovering 90,000 incriminating documents and tools of burglary and espionage. The criminal trial of 11 high-ranking Scientologists resulted in prison sentences for all, including Hubbard’s wife Mary Sue. Hubbard was an unindicted co-conspirator and remained in hiding until his death in 1986.

[11] “free-think-er n. A person who forms opinions about religion on the basis of reason, independently of tradition, authority, or established belief. Freethinkers include atheists, agnostics and rationalists.  No one can be a freethinker who demands conformity to a bible, creed, or messiah. To the freethinker, revelation and faith are invalid, and orthodoxy is no guarantee of truth.”  Definition courtesy of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, ffrf.org

The Series I’m Not Finishing

Comments Off on The Series I’m Not Finishing

That would be, Nobody Wants This, a Netflix comedy series.  Summary:  romantic, professional, cultural, and family shenanigans ensue as a relationship develops between an opinionated, religion-free podcaster and a progressive Jewish rabbi who needs his new love to convert to his religion if he is to become head rabbi of his temple.

Nobody Wants This was recommended to me, and has an actor in it whose previous work I’d enjoyed,    [1]   so moiself  gave the series a go.  As I struggled through episode 8 (out of 10)  I realized how apt the title was…for me.  Nobody (or at least, moiself ) wants this – that is, to feel what I am feeling, as I am watching the show, which is…

Is it me, or is it the show?

Yep, a silly romcom made me feel something I have never, ever, felt:  if I’d grown up under a cultural rock and knew nothing about Judaism and had never had any Jewish friends or neighbors or classmates or coworkers, and NWT was my introduction to Jewish culture – this show might be a stealth primer on antisemitism.

The actors are all competent and good-looking…but holy Hadlakat Hanerot,   [2]   the majority of the Jewish females are written as alarmingly unattractively characters.  They are bigoted (very anti-shiksa, an epithet freely and frequently employed in the show) and stereotyped (concerned with money, getting married, and keeping up appearances, and if they are married they are tempermental princesses who run roughshod over their husbands).

 

“Let’s practice the kicking-the-shiksa polka!”

 

And the conversion plotline I found to be ick, as in, creepy.  Sure, it’s played for comic effect, but I found it insulting to both sides – to believers and to those who are religion-free – as in this case, to the shiksa and the Jew-who-wants-his-non-Jewish girlfriend to convert.  Yeah, let’s have the atheist character be so flip that she considers “converting”– after all, since she doesn’t believe in anyone’s gods she can just as well not believe in a Jewish god to please her hot boyfriend!  And besides, those Jews have such nice rituals and throw such great parties (which is how the rabbi and his brother plot to get the rabbi’s GF to consider converting: “Show her the fun stuff first!”).  It’s not like anyone might seriously consider that this *fun* stuff is based on ancient/primitive stories and superstitions which some folk nevertheless take seriously and therefore it might be just a tad respectful to ponder whether or not the convert-ee even wants to pretend that those things are true or at least relevant to her life and/or this century….

One of the side plotsin Nobody Wants This, about preparations for the rabbi’s niece’s bat mitzvah, was equally stomach-curdling for me to watch.  I didn’t see that the ritual meant anything to anyone participating/planning it, aside from the pressure to throw a really big party ($$$) and impress your friends ($$$) and have the right dress ($$$) and a “theme” (Seriously? Like a Halloween party?), and you have to make sure it isn’t a theme someone else has done or is doing….

 

 

Watching Nobody Wants This reminded me of how queasy/uncomfortable I felt, several years ago, when I was reading about another person’s less-than-flattering perspective re her father’s culture.  It was the memoir of a bicultural writer and actor, the daughter of a Black, non-religious mother and White, Jewish father.  She spent alternating years with each parent after they divorced when she was seven years old; she felt estranged from both parents, for different reasons.   [3]     After the birth of her own child she had a nasty, public falling out with her mother.  Her father’s family, while seemingly welcoming to (or at least tolerant of) her, left her with a bad taste in her mouth re their Jewish religion (or perhaps their culture, would be a better word), which, in her observation and interpretation, consisted of being very little concerned with spirituality and overly concerned with financial success.

Moiself  doesn’t know anything about Nobody Wants Thiss creator(s) or writer(s) or director(s), but I’m thinking that they have to be Jewish in order to get away with the stereotypes.  Could a goy write such material and not get called out on it?  No matter the source, and despite some witty dialogue and truly comic situations, I just got more and more creeped out by the material as a whole.  I gave it a try, but in the end – the end of the series I didn’t make it to – yeah, *this* nobody doesn’t want this.

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of And Then, There Is This….

Possibly the best Meaning of Life ® metaphor moiself  has heard, can be found in definitely one of the best podcast episodes I’ve listened to:  from the NY Times Modern Love’s, “Andrew Garfield Wants to Crack Open Your Heart.”

The metaphor comes not from Mr. Garfield, but from the NY Times essay he reads for the podcast: “Learning to Measure Time in Love and Loss,” by Chris Huntington.  Perhaps you’d rather not listen to the podcast; that’s okay.  Read the essay, if only so that you can understand that when we acknowledge the ultimate Human Problem®  – which is that we can’t hold on to anything; life is all a letting go, and therefore the wisest, most heartfelt, and compassionate   [4]   approach to life we can take is,

Be the best prisoner you can be.

 

 

*   *   *

Department Of Just Wondering, #389 in A Never-Ending Series:
Why Do Human Beings Do This?

KC is telling her friend (or spouse or parent or coworker or…) JP about how KC is feeling down about something negative that has happened to her.  Why does JP reply, “Oh, don’t be so so sad – there are plenty of people out there who are worse off,” or “C’mon, it’s not like you have a cancer, or are losing your home and will be living on the streets,” or use another comparison which brings up the hypothetical or actual troubles of other people?

Why do we essentially imply that there is a hierarchy of woe in the world, and if what’s troubling you is not at the top of the list ( Are you a starving child in war torn Somalia?  Do you have a brain tumor? ) then whatever is troubling you is not that awful.  Why the comparison to outside situations?  Why is your particular trouble not worthy, to you, and to your situation, of the sadness it evokes in you?  Why the need for comparison – it is a ham-fisted intent to supposedly lift you up (or shut you up)?

And why do people *not* do that in situations which evoke opposite – as in, positive – emotions?

Imagine KC telling JP how happy she is about something new and great in her life (her job promotion, new romantic interest, the Siamese kitten she has always wanted, or other good fortune that has come to her), and JP replying, “Now, don’t be so happy – there are plenty of people out there far better off than you….”

 

 

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [5]

“The place to be happy is here;
The time to be happy is now.
The way to be happy is to help make others so.”

( Robert Ingersoll, [1833-1899]
American writer, attorney, orater, civil and women’s and freethought activist,
the most noted of American infidels.” )

 

Not a picture of Ingersoll, but a baby sloth playing peek-a-boo makes me happy, right now.

 

*   *   *

May we be happy in the here and now;
May we think twice before sharing our things-could-be-worse perspective;
May we strive to be “the best prisoners” we can be;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] At least, what I was familiar with.

[2] The lighting of the candles for Shabbat, done by the woman of the house, around 18 minutes before sunset.

[3] Being shuttled between parents certainly didn’t help.

[4] To yourself, as well as to others.

[5] “free-think-er n. A person who forms opinions about religion on the basis of reason, independently of tradition, authority, or established belief. Freethinkers include atheists, agnostics and rationalists.   No one can be a freethinker who demands conformity to a bible, creed, or messiah. To the freethinker, revelation and faith are invalid, and orthodoxy is no guarantee of truth.”  Definition courtesy of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, ffrf.org

The Compliments I’m Not Savoring

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Department Of A Blast From The Past

From 1-12-2018, to be precise.  Moiself  was searching through past blog posts, looking for a certain reference, when I came upon this:

*   *   *

Department Of I Have Her Permission To Post About This

The joys of listening to your children babble in a post-surgical,  [1]  pain-medicated, happy voice are not to be underestimated.  How MH and I wish we’d thought to record son K on his ride home from the oral surgeon’s office, those many years ago.  We remembered to do so when it came Belle’s turn to have her wisdom teeth removed, and although she had some random non sequiturs of note, at least (to our knowledge) she did not propose to her nurse:

 

 

We’ve discovered that opportunities for the gathering of anesthesia-induced babbling memories do not fade with age, and are perhaps even more enjoyable when your children are young adults.  Last Friday afternoon, Belle underwent a procedure which required general anesthesia. After MH and I were allowed to see her in the post-op recovery room, I did not record her ramblings (Belle was with it enough to object to that), but did manage to take a few notes. There are some gems I know I missed, mostly because, I just wanted to be present to enjoy the stream of conscious moments caused by her brain only partially connecting with her mouth.

* “Is there boob PT? (After MH and I told Belle that the upper floors of the building she was in were dominated by orthopedic surgeons and PTs – psychical therapists.)

* “It stays on for THREE DAYS.”  Belle pointed to the anti-nausea patch the anesthesiologist had placed on the side of her neck, then lowered her voice to a solemn whisper. “That’s a lotta days!”

* Belle said the nurses told her she was talking about bear heads
( “Let me tell you about the grizzly bear head…” ),
and that they don’t get many people who talk about bear heads.   [2]  

* “Do you remember when people were, like, in the future,
everything will be chrome?
It didn’t happen. I think they meant stainless steel.”

“I’d like to be Spider-Man.”

Moiself:
“But you don’t like spiders.”

  “No sir, I do not.  But, I appreciate spiders.”

*   “Seth Meyers is like a marshmallow, with good hair.”    [3] 

While waiting for the nurse to remove her IV, Belle began to describe to MH and I, with great seriousness, how the cycle of banana mitosis and meiosis indicates that bananas can tell time. The morning after her surgery, I asked Belle if she remembered doing that. She said she didn’t, but that it’s no surprise because,

“Actually, I talk about that a lot.”    [4]

 

Why carry a watch when you can just ask the banana on your head what time it is?

( blog excerpt from The Bullet List I’m Not Embracing, 1-12-2018 )

 

*   *   *

Department Of The Rituals Of Autumn

Raking leaves; pressing cider; going to the U-pick pumpkin farm and then a corn maze; hiking through Hoyt Arboretum trails to see the brilliant red-orange-golden fall foliage; attending an Oktoberfest or Harvest celebration; watching When Harry Met Sally; finding a coven of witches to cast spells on GOP vice presidential candidates….

These are all  beautiful and beloved) traditions in their own way, but somewhat pedestrian compared to the I-bet-you-that-moiself-is-the-only-person-with-this-particular-ritual:

The Getting Out Of The The Clear/Strengthening Nail Polish From Last Year
(Hoping It Hasn’t Congealed), And Beginning Weekly Applications Of Polish
To My Right Hand’s Pinkie Fingernail ® .

This particular finger of mine even has its own Facebook page       [5]      Please remember: I’m showing you my finger, not giving you the finger.

 

 

Hard to tell in the light, even with the profile and “headshot,” but the tip of my right pinkie finger is angled right about 20 degrees to the left, and the fingernail is split vertically about two centimeters left of center.  How did that happen, inquiring minds want to know?

 

 

My older sister NL and I were playing a game of chase inside our Santa Ana house.  NL was almost twice as tall as me, and was twice as old (three years to my 18 months); nevertheless, I was the chaser.  NL fled down the hallway and into the bathroom.  She slammed the bathroom door and locked it, failing to realize,that I had reached out to try and grab her at the last minute, and when she slammed the door shut she’d inadvertently crushed my right little finger, from the top joint to the tip, between the door and the door jamb.

My ensuing, bone-chilling shrieks   [6]   attracted the attention of our parents, who convinced NL to unlock the door.  They rushed me to the doctor, who examined the pulverized pinkie and pronounced, “It’ll need to be amputated….hmm.  Well, maybe….”  In a Nobel-Prize worthy moment of inspiration, the doctor reached for his miracle salve (Vaseline),   [7]      dabbed it on the top of moiself’s  smooshed finger, and wrapped the damaged digit with gauze.  Doc advised my parents to keep the bandaged finger dry – no peeking! – and return in two weeks, or sooner if the finger started to smell like last year’s ham sandwich.

Two weeks later the unveiling revealed that the tip of my finger had partially re-formed itself, and thus was spared its date with the guillotine.

So, I grew up with a Funny Finger ® .  While admittedly un-decorative in appearance, it is largely functional, with a few exceptions (it isn’t as mobile as the other fingers, and sometimes goes into spasms or freezes up when I tightly grip something with my right hand).   Besides the misshapen profile, my Six Funny Finger Facts include the following, all of which five out of six of which are true:

* Teensy, sub-dermal bone fragments are palpable on the underside of the finger

* The fingernail grows cleft from the nail bed to the edge, with the split running bottom to top in the left side of the nail, and curving down at the edge.
The fingernail’s growth is self-limiting; it tends to disintegrate (for lack of a better term) at a certain length and split on the left side.

*  The tip of the finger, from the second joint up, has reduced sensation
(as compared to that of other fingers) and is prone to bouts of numbness

* During one such numbness bout, a junior high school-aged moiself  discovered
that she could stick a pin in the top of that finger, sans pain.  Besides giving her that certain,  je ne sais quoi cachet among eighth graders.  This ability
proved to be a helpful form of pest control.  Waving my impaled pinkie was an effective gross-out/shoo-away to a certain cheerleader-type
who’d attempted to make me feel self-conscious by loudly broadcasting,
“Ew, what’s wrong with your finger?!  That is SO DISGUSTING!”
in the classroom and at the lunch table.

* The tip of the finger is an effective dowser device: it pulses and emits
a series of high frequency beeps when in the proximity of an underground water supply.

*  Come the dryness of the Fall and Winter seasons, the funny finger’s nail cracks,
at the top and along the split, sometimes painfully.  Moiself  found this solution:
I apply a couple of layers of clear polish to the nail on a weekly basis,
which seems to minimize the cracking and splitting.

 

 

*   *   *

*   *   *

Department of Anomalous Accolades

What is the most curious strangest compliment y’all have ever received?

This question comes from my having recently overheard someone in a public place tell a friend about the  backhanded compliment   [8]  her in-law had given her.  This brought to mind two compliments moiself  has received – accolades  which were truly meant, by the giver, to be positive, but which nevertheless had a rather odd, weeellllllll….oooookkkkaaay, you-don’t-hear-that-every-day  quality to them:

(1) “You have a poster-quality cervix!”
 ( Context: spoken by a nurse practitioner, in aSo Cal Planned Parenthood clinic where I
was a volunteer.  I’d offered to help with staff training and evaluation;  [9]
upon completing the pelvic exam she’d performed upon moiself  the NP pushed her chair back from the exam table,
pointed to the female reproductive anatomy poster on the exam room wall, and exclaimed that
my cervix looked *exactly* like the one in the picture. )

(2):  “You’re really good at filling your bladder!”
(  Context: spoken by the ultrasound technician at the beginning of my fourth ultrasoun
in three weeks, during the ninth month of my Belle pregnancy.  A full bladder, while torture to a pregnant woman
in her third trimester, helps elevate the uterus in the abdominal cavity,
which provides  better ultrasound imaging.  [10]    )

 

 

*   *   *

Oh, but speaking of accolades….

Department of Employee Of The Month

 

It’s that time, to bestow that prestigious award upon moiself .  Again. The need for which I wrote about here.   [11] 

*   *   *

Freethinkers’ Thought Of The Week     [12]

“The religion/ politics dichotomy is a false one.  It isn’t that politics has no role; it’s that politics is simply inseparable from the Abrahamic religions.
Religion is politics.  That was the case during the Barbary confrontation in 1786, and it’s the case with the Israel-Palestine conflict now. Throughout history,
religion has simply been an excuse looking for a conflict.”

( Ali A. Rizvi, The Atheist Muslim: A Journey from Religion to Reason )

 

 

*   *   *

May  you remember to have a notepad ready when picking up someone
who is still under the effects of anesthesia;
May you delight in your own autumn rituals;
May you never have a reason for to be praised for
your skill at filling your bladder ;

…and may the hijinks ensue.

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

*   *   *

[1] This is contingent upon having surgery for something relatively minor, ala wisdom teeth removal.

[2] This one makes sense to me, and probably was not the non sequitur the nurses thought it to be: Belle has prepped, stuffed, and mounted a grizzly bear head in her work as a docent for her college’s natural history museum.

[3] I likely sparked that comment by mentioning that Seth Meyers was hosting the Golden Globe Awards show.

[4] She’s a Biology major.

[5] Or used to.  It was deactivated; now, it lives again.

[6] The great thing about this story, besides being a great story, is that I was so young I have no memory of it, and thus no memory of the pain.

[7] If he’d been Greek, I wonder if he would have used Windex?

[8] As in, a compliment which is not really a compliment at all (e.g. your boss telling you that the memo you wrote was “surprisingly coherent.”)

[9] “The new doctor is friendly, forthright, and competent, but she needs to trim her fingernails….”

[10] I had pneumonia during my 9th month of pregnancy, and my belly’s fundal height – a measurement of the distance from the top of the uterus to the pubic bone, which is used to assess fetal development and estimate gestational age – had remained static for three weeks.

[11] Several years ago, MH received a particularly glowing performance review from his workplace. As happy as I was for him when he shared the news, it left me with a certain melancholy I couldn’t quite peg.  Until I did.

One of the many “things” about being a writer (or any occupation working freelance at/from home) is that although you avoid the petty bureaucratic policies, bungling bosses, mean girls’ and boys’ cliques, office politics and other irritations inherent in going to a workplace, you also lack the camaraderie and other social perks that come with being surrounded by your fellow homo sapiens.  No one praises me for fixing the paper jam in the copy machine, or thanks me for staying late and helping the new guy with a special project, or otherwise says, Good on you, sister.  Once I realized the source of the left-out feelings, I came up with a small way to lighten them.

[12] “free-think-er n. A person who forms opinions about religion on the basis of reason, independently of tradition, authority, or established belief. Freethinkers include atheists, agnostics and rationalists.  No one can be a freethinker who demands conformity to a bible, creed, or messiah. To the freethinker, revelation and faith are invalid, and orthodoxy is no guarantee of truth.”  Definition courtesy of the Freedom From Religion Foundation, ffrf.org