Using the Tagsurfer feature this morning I ran across a post that listed the “101 books to read before you die” from a UK bookstore called Ottakar’s. There are lots of these kind of lists out there, and I always find them fun. A reviewer’s “best of” list says a lot about the reviewer, and I enjoy trying to figure out what kind of things the reviewers value in their lists.

As bookstore employees put this list together, I find it particularly interesting – more fun than serious reviews from academic journals and other “professionals”, typically because the whole advancement of Civilized Culture is not at stake in amateur conversations.

Here are my humble comments (please don’t take them too seriously):

• What, no James Joyce?
• Homer, but no Dante?
• Phillip K. Dick, but no William Gibson?
• Dostoyevsky, but no Tolstoy?
• Richard Dawkins? This is just fiction right? If not, where is Charles Darwin?
• It’s nice to see P.G. Wodehouse and Douglas Adams on the list.
• Life of Pi is a great book
• The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime is a good book, but not great.

So what made the reviewers choose the books they did? Is it books they had read (collectively)? Books that sold well, or that they imagined would sell well? What is their criterion for good literature?

What are your thoughts?

While we are discussing artistic merit, it may be appropriate to mention the Museum of Bad Art in Massachusetts. Instead of fighting over the nature of really good art, they attempt to decide what is really bad art.

It is much easier and commonplace to create a work of mediocre art, but the creation of really bad art is exceptional.

“All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling. To be natural is to be obvious, and to be obvious is to be inartistic.” –Oscar Wilde

Nietzsche has gained certain popularity among my friends in Information Architecture over the past couple of weeks. I surely don’t want to miss the bandwagon, so I found another insightful quote:

Nobility of Mind – Nobility of mind consists to a great degree in good-naturedness and absence of distrust, and thus contains precisely that which successful and money-hungry people are so fond of looking down on and laughing at. (from Human, All Too Human, maxim 493 )

Bruce Schneier has a new article on Wired about the importance of privacy as a basic human need. I completely agree with him. The common response from the watchers of “if you are not doing anything wrong, what are you afraid of?” fails on several levels – I’ll let you read the article to find out how.

I do have one more dimension to privacy that I would like to add – marketing also diminishes my freedom. Even if data was collected on me by completely benign corporate entities who really would offer me the best product, and there was no fear of malicious entent by those in power, I would still be reticent to give up that information. I want my own ideas. I want to make my own mistakes. Like a rebellious teenager, I want to live my own life.

Perhaps I don’t feel like that in every situation, but as Bruce points out in his article, I definitely need my private space – discrete, distinct, and mine.

Wikipedia defines Sophism as follows:

Sophism (gr. sophistes meaning “wise-ist,” or one who ‘does’ wisdom, i.e. who makes a business out of wisdom; cf. sophós, “wise man”, cf. also wizard) was originally a term for the techniques taught by a highly respected group of philosophy and rhetoric teachers in ancient Greece.

Today, a sophism generally refers to a particularly confusing, illogical and/or insincere argument used by someone to make a point (for example, the “Chewbacca defense“). Sophistry refers to the practice of using such arguments, and is used as derogative for rhetoric that is designed to appeal to the listener on grounds other than the strict logical cogency of the statements being made.

The Sophists are known today only through the writings of their opponents (specifically Plato and Aristotle), which makes it difficult to formulate a complete view of the Sophists’ beliefs. However, modern research has shown that their views were much more complex than Plato’s depiction.

Also, be sure to check out the article on the Chewbacca Defense.

“Hello, I’m Chewbacca and I approve this message.”

I have mentioned the song “(Nothing But) Flowers” by The Talking Heads to a couple of my friends in reference to the artificial and unnecessary role of technological culture to the human condition. You can find the lyrics to the song here, but hearing it is better.

The song is told from the point of view of a person pining away for the old days of Seven-Elevens and chocolate chip cookies in a post-apocalyptic world.

Once there were parking lots
Now it’s a peaceful oasis
you got it, you got it

This was a Pizza Hut
Now it’s all covered with daisies
you got it, you got it

Until recently, I always thought that this song was humorous, but a bit unrealistic – after all, nobody can stop the wheels of progress, nor would they want to.

The highways and cars
Were sacrificed for agriculture
I thought that we’d start over
But I guess I was wrong

No one could be happy in this condition, right? As I have gotten older, I have realized how much of a trap “progress” is. It feeds on itself. We are slaves to it. Can you imagine life without electricity, modern transportation, or plumbing? We answer this by saying that these things have made our lives better. But I just want to ask this question: our lives are better relative to what? Technology has made us frantic, lonely, sick, and massively destructive. What if we started on a false premise to begin with, and are just chasing our tails in search of something else?

And as things fell apart
Nobody paid much attention

This post is dedicated to Pete Gaeta. Dude, where’s your blog?

I first heard about Garry Wills’ new book, What Jesus Meant, from a review in Newsweek. I wasn’t familiar with Garry Wills either at this point, but the review’s introductory paragraph drew me in. According to the review, here was a new book that gave a radical re-interpretation of Jesus of Nazareth as an extreme radical who opposed the two greatest institutions of his time – Wills pits Jesus against the State, and Jesus against the Church.

Wills’ book describes Jesus, a religious cleric by training, denying the religious cleanliness (holiness) codes one after another all through the gospels – coming into contact with the sick and dead bodies, breaking the Sabbath, sharing meals (the deepest sign of friendly communion in the first century) with prostitutes and thieves – while refusing to dine with his “fellow” clerics, encouraging drunkenness (turning water into hundreds of gallons of wine at a wedding reception and continually dining at rowdy tables), refusing to perform ceremonial washings, etc.

As I was reading this book, I kept thinking of the review I read a couple of weeks earlier, and was eagerly looking for the juicy bits – those that rang of political correctness, one-sided agenda driven witch-hunts, or maybe even heresy.

Wills’ successfully sparks a reaction from all his readers: he spends time discussing homosexuality (of which he has a generous view), the rich and powerful (of which he is not generous), and politically motivated, while also providing apologetic for a miracle performing, mystical Christ – thus offending both conservative and liberal interpretations at the same time.

What I found was a gospel that was already vaguely familiar to me, but somehow lost in my early religious training. This was a Jesus who hung out, was friends with, aided, the dregs of society – those society had forgot or hated. He refused to deal with politicians or religious leaders on their terms – they must come down from their seats of power in order to join Him (the Pharisees must come in and dine at the sinner’s table, the rich man must sell all his possessions, etc.). I learned these stories in Sunday School, but somehow it seems we had become the very religious elite that Jesus opposed. The stories and the teachings were right there in front of us, and we made elaborate excuses and intricate theologies to explain our benign neglect of the meaning of Jesus’ life.

As I read, I started to ask a very serious question. It is often said, “The Gospel offends”(usually to defend a poor door-to-door style evangelism). I thought about that for a while and then asked: “Who does the Gospel offend?” The answer I was raised with is, “Sinners, of course.” But then, what do we mean by “sinners”? The answer from many American Christians: “Those who are living sinful, adulterous, thieving, homosexual, smoking, drinking, cursing, leprous, unclean lives.”

This saddens me on so many levels. The good news is, many Christians do not ascribe to this Pharisaical attitude. Books like this are being written, as they always have – though we may not hear about them as often as they are not endorsed by the religious “machine” nor do they give people the self-gratifying effects desired after reading a religious book. By degrees, I have met people who have served as great mentors of mercy and compassion as I grew out of my grade-school fundamentalist upbringing. But there are still many religious people to confront and many more unclean with which to dine – of which, I hope I am one.

I have between two and three hours of commute time every weekday, so I pass the time listening to a lot of audiobooks from Audible (www.audible.com). I still spend a lot of time at the bookstore. All in all, on average I think I go through about 1 1/2 to 2 books (both audio and print) a week (depending on the size of the books).

I have been interested in the different experiences both mediums afford, so here is a breakdown of some of the pros and cons of each.

Audiobooks

- Actually get all the way through the book, as it is easier to get through the boring parts

-Get a wholistic picture of the story

-The reader-actors give new dimensions to chararacters,emphasizing and differentiating dialog

-Some writers have a style that lends itself to the spoken word

-I’m in the car anyway, what else am I going to do?

Printed Books

-Get more of the “deeper” themes running through a book

-Can take notes in the margins

Can dog-ear pages or use a permanent bookmark

-Can reference the book again easily in the future, for quotes, quick browsing, etc.

-Some writers have a style that lends itself to the written page

-Tend to remember names better after I have read them as opposed to just heard them, though I remember characterizations (accent, etc) better from audiobook

What do you think are the benefits and drawbacks of these formats from your own experiences?

I am sickened by what I have read concerning FEMA’s press policy in their government funded trailer park communities. Read these links!

Basically, FEMA will not allow reporters to interview people staying in these parks on the park property – and reporters are not allowed on the park property to get to people to interview. These people do not have phones, either – except the limited cellphones provided by FEMA. Offsite, trailer park residents are not allowed to speak to members of the press without an official FEMA representative present. This is essentially a forced media blackout of prison-like conditions.

FEMA’s response to these allegations is here , and an article on the inadequacy of that response here . None of this, they submit, is official FEMA policy. OK, official or not, it is happening. In fact, there is a track record of media abuses in New Orleans, including an incident of the police breaking reporters’ cameras after photographing brutality.

Where is the mainstream press on this?

I don’t watch comedy central, but from what I have seen of Jon Stewart, he seems like a really smart guy. Check out this clip from his appearance on CNN Crossfire.

And while you’re at it, here is a great clip from the Colbert report.

In his book, A Generous Orthodoxy, Brian McLaren attempts to take a kind of positive pluralist approach to the different orthodoxies within the Catholic (meaning here universal) Christian Church. McLaren analyzes several orthodoxies from Roman Catholic to evangelical to green to Lutheran to Anabaptist, and looks for the good within all of these traditions. This book introduced me to several Christian traditions that I was not acquainted with (or only nominally acquainted), and also challenged some of my assumptions concerning traditions more familiar to me.

The underlying assumption of this book is that there is beauty to be found in all of these traditions, and by focusing on the few negative aspects we miss out on a greater experience and understanding of God. McLaren embraces an epistemelogical relativism, meaning that our understanding of the world is created and limited by our unique experiences. By actively and positively listening to other traditions, we gain a fuller and more profound experience of God. While still holding firmly to the belief that Christ’s life and redemptive work through his death and resurrection is the only path to God, he questions whether one has to be a part of the culture of Christendom in order to be a follower of Christ. Could individuals within other religious communities such as Islam, Buddhism, or Hinduism also be Christ-followers? McClaren is optimistic about this. I am reminded of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s incisive question, “What is religionless Christianity?”

McLaren provides a wonderful example of living out a positive pluralism. Our culture today is in a state of unrest in both politics and religion. The two political parties in our country are more violently divided today than ever. Churches have firmly planted themselves in the warring camps of fundamentalism, evangelicalism, or ecumenicism. All the while, people are talking over each other with megaphones and picket signs, and no one is listening.

If we were able to view the world optimistically (glass half-full) and honestly believe that within the confines of our limited humanity we are each trying to do good, perhaps we would see that, at the core, we are all on the same side.