Can somebody explain to your simple correspondent how on earth this works?

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I was until very recently interviewing for a position with the CIA. (Pauses. Looks over right shoulder. Looks over left shoulder. Waits. Braces for a bullet to the temple.)

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My blogging here has been light of late, and my perusal of other sights even lighter. I could give you any number of reasons for this, many of which would be partially true; however, in reality, it all boils down to the rising nausea I feel whenever I think about the Bloggernacle. This sickening feeling is made even worse by the fact that many of the things that gross me out the most about the Bloggernacle are things that I’ve done, felt, or been a part of. So, before you start typing your accusations of hypocrisy, I’ll beat you to it and plead guilty.

Some of you have probably seen the American version of “The Office” on NBC. In one episode, the sycophantic and power-hungry Dwight is given the task of overseeing the weekend work calendar. Dwight immediately lords his new-found power over his co-workers, one of whom remarks, “I’ve never seen such a small amount of power go to someone’s head.” This remark perfectly sums up what I find so nauseating about the Bloggernacle. Let me explain.

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The debate over creationism in Utah makes the Times. You see, when you live in New York, you can say, “the Times,” without worrying that people won’t know which Times you are talking about. It’s awesome to be able to do it.

Anyway, here’s the article.

Two thoughts:

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Let’s say you’re out running, or walking, or whatever, and you get hit by a car. Let’s also say you’re injured quite badly. Fortunately for you, the car that hit you also happens to be an ambulance. The EMTs are able to attend to your immediate needs and whisk you to a nearby hospital. The doctors at the hospital tell you that if the car that hit you hadn’t been an ambulance you would have certainly died.

As you are saying your prayers that night, what do you say to God about the accident?

PS: There is no right answer, nor am I trying to trick you into saying, or not saying, something. Just tell me what you honestly think you would say to God about it.

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In a probably unsuccessful rush to finish the Book of Mormon before the end of the year (who knew Alma was so long?), I’ve had some thoughts I want to flesh out and discuss. The first involves prophets writing descriptions of the state of affairs of the church and the saints for a given period of time; these descriptions sometimes cover hundreds of years in a single verse, or they may focus on a few months or years and take an entire chapter doing so. Either way, the author (usually Mormon, although it may be someone who lived at the time being described) often mentions several indicators of the general righteousness of the church, including: strife, contentions, treatment of the poor, the wearing of fine clothing, sexual morality, priestcraft, fasting, prayer, treatment of the prophets, and others. (If you noticed any others, mention them in the comments.) Here’s one example of what I’m talking about, from Alma 4:

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A faithful member of the Church dies. All that you know about her is that at the time of her death she was genuinely worthy of a temple recommend and was sealed in the temple to her husband and children. With what degree of certainty would you feel comfortable in asserting that she will be recieve exaltation in the highest degree of the Celestial Kingdom?

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Here are a few of the ways I would spend my money:

* Magazines: I really like books, but sometimes reading a book smacks of duty, which I avoid at all costs. Magazines, on the other hand, are pure leisure. I loooooove magazines. I’d subscribe to The Atlantic, The New Yorker, The Economist, Foreign Policy, Foreign Affairs, Newsweek, Vanity Fair, and US Weekly/In Touch/OK.

* Laundry: I’d never, ever, ever do anything laundry-related for the rest of my days.

* Brushing My Teeth: Yes, that’s right. I’d have someone brush my teeth for me. I hate doing it. While they’re at it, they’d shave me.

And you?

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Wife: Welcome home.
Husband: Uh, yeah. Thanks.
W: How was work?
H: Fine.
W: Was the drive OK?
H: Not bad. There weren’t any bad jams. It took about 50 minutes.
W: Well, what’s wrong?
H: Wrong? … Oh. I listened to Jeremiah on tape most of the way home.
W: Oh. I see.

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One thing I liked about BYU was the presence of families. I’m not referring here to spouses and young children, though they added to the wholeness of the place, too. I’m remembering the siblings and cousins.

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