Greetings, fellow caretakers, librarians, intellectuals, and members of bannedbooksweek.org. I am writing to encourage you to remove any mention of J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye from your list, campaign, and website, so future generations of students may be saved from the chore of reading this “classic.”
While it’s a classic in the sense that it is widely distributed, it’s a chore, an offline MySpace blog about a self-absorbed, obnoxious twit. To clarify, I don’t believe the book should be banned. No, that was exactly the cause of its fame, and why I was subjected to it during my youth. It should be ignored as poor literature, relinquished to a dusty shelf to rot in the forgotten library of our inattention.
As a teenager, I recall it was banned because of the extensive use of curse words, in particular, “fuck,” and every time I attempt to re-read it, that exact word comes to mind. As in, “why the fuck am I reading this again, this is the third fucking time?” or “J.D.-fucking-Salinger would not have had a career if this fucking book was not banned.”
Please pardon my coarse language. My inner voice is often quite harsh in regards to this particular topic.
While I doubt my request will be seriously considered, please at least take the time to re-read it for yourselves to verify my claim, or read it for the first time. Then proceed on to something more rewarding. Personally, I am poring through a wonderfully-illustrated copy of Twain’s The Innocents Abroad, which I highly recommend. I wish I was forced to read Twain as a teenager, instead of Salinger. Perhaps I would have started on the classics, sooner.
Finally, I don’t blame you for your well-intentioned and largely positive campaign. I just wish my former teacher had chosen chosen a different book from your list.
Thank you for your consideration.
Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. How you ride and ride thinking the bus will never stop, the passengers eating maize and chicken will stare out the window forever. Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road. You must see how this could be you, how he too was someone who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive. Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore, only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread, only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say it is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you every where like a shadow or a friend.
(Source: amazon.com)
Your passion will not only inspire others, it will make it more acceptable for them to follow in your footsteps. This is important to remember while your critics are sharpening your swords.
Being truthful, speaking my mind about what needs to be done, and following the [written] rules may cost me my job, but I have the satisfaction of genuine improvement and I sleep well at night.
If I am fired, I find another job. So it goes.
“A group of militant, mostly Saudi troublemakers convince the superpowers of the world to strip away many of their freedoms in the most ineffective and expensive game of cat and mouse ever.”
Several new friends of mine have asked me the old question “why is 9/11 a joke to you?” and my answer is still: I read a lot of Kurt Vonnegut Jr. If he was still alive, I am certain he would have written a piercing, witty tale of the life of Khalil Ibrahim Omar al-Muslit, Saddam’s supposed driver. Or perhaps the brief tale of the world’s most nervous suicide bomber!
Humor is quite possibly the best coping mechanism our species has. I wasn’t myself after 9/11 until I saw the home page art on The Onion. It had an amazing “9/11… HOLY SHIT” feel to it, and shocked me back to my senses.[1] There is a time for mourning, but that time is not forever. To paraphrase an ancient saying: “over time, the tragic becomes funny.”[2]
9/11 has become a tool for intolerance, divisive politics, and justification for all manners of heinous international warcrimes. In my opinion, this is far more debasing of the memory than my tasteless jokes.
As usual, I present “The 9/11 Terrorcore Mix,” by the GeoJedi, one of the finest commentaries on 9/11 to date:
A higher-resolution version can be found at his site: http://www.geojedi.org/professorpost911/
Greetings, Roseville city worker, kind enough to read this message.
I am writing out of concern for the clever but misleading name of the Roseville Adventure Club.
I ride by every weekday morning on my bicycle, and I finally thought that today would be a good day to inquire about adventure, only to find out there is none to be had for a person my age — your facility is a cleverly-named daycare center!
Much like an Oak street devoid of trees, I felt slightly put off. I don’t expect any sort of resolution — namely because anything effective to resolve this matter would surely require resources the city doesn’t have to waste — but I wanted to at least voice my concern.
Thank you for listening.
UPDATE 9/15: I received a response!
Hello-
Thank you for expressing your concern.
redacted
Recreation Specialist
Parks, Recreation, & Libraries
Becky and I have two very different styles of grocery shopping. I shop like my mother, entertaining possibilities while traversing all the aisles. She swears to never accompany me to Target ever again.
Behold, our compromise:
I print out two copies of a spreadsheet of items, with columns for Item Aisle, and Meal. When creating the list, I sort it by Meal, and delete (or hide) the dinner meals. Then, we add the items we want, along with the aisle it’s in. When we have all the meals for the week ready, I sort it by Aisle, and we split it in half in such a way that we get the aisles we’re best at.
I’ve noticed that we tend to optimize for our circumstance, but one of the reasons I enjoy the conversation of programmers, scientists, and philosophers is that the effort is explicit and frequent. Little improvements like these can go a long way. For example, this is just a first draft, but Becky did not run the cart into me or leave me behind once!
This is Eric Smith.
Back in October, he was responsible for distributing the company newsletter and calender PDF files for my employer. As you can see, he used a photo of himself.
Like any good employee who prints out and uses company calenders, I used mine for the entire month. And then in November, when the next one didn’t arrive. And in December, and ever since, because frankly, the new person just didn’t have the same pleasant demeanor as Mr. Smith.
Sometime within the first week, I added a speech bubble with a sharpie, so that he would say “hi” to me. I found this to be very positive!
Fresh Potatoes described me as “the weirdest white person she knows.” My response was that she probably doesn’t know enough white people and that we all get this way as we age.
We put Otaru down yesterday morning. Despite our efforts, his urinary tract problems became too severe and it was clear there was nothing more we could do.
I buried him in the yard and marked his grave with a ring of stones.
Click this picture to see an album of some of my favorite pictures of him. I’ll be adding more as I upload them.
I have more I’d like to add, but maybe another day, when I am less emotional.
I’m not a particularly devout Buddhist, but I would like to share the only teaching that has ever truly resonated with me, that I’ve ever “learned”:
Be kind to life and aware of reality, in that order.
On the surface, this seems like a reversal of the order of The Four Noble Truths, but in my opinion, fostering a sense of kindness in one’s practice should be a greater priority for novices than awareness.
We say that the goal of our practice is to liberate all beings from suffering, but if we ourselves don’t respect life, then we cultivate a walled garden: beautiful, lonely, and separate.
I won’t be so arrogant to state that centuries of doctrine need to be rewritten, but certain societal realities must be kept in mind when spreading the dharma. The people of the United States, for example, tend to be extremely detached from the consequences of their choices, myself included. We express outrage at the BP oil disaster, yet don’t hesitate to drive less to reduce our petroleum dependence. We condone racism and desire peace, yet vote for people and political parties who send our military to further selfish and unethical interests in the name of “exporting democracy.”
There are countless examples, but awareness requires empathy and empathy has it’s own prerequisites. For example: I thought I “understood” race and class struggles from growing up in Detroit, but until I recently experienced adversity and poverty myself, working a menial, unskilled job, I didn’t know the depth of my white privilege. The experience of the past few years completely altered my perception, and I have a somewhat more focused path for my awareness; I’m no longer stumbling in the dark. I may be fumbling around in a dimly-lit room, but I stand a chance of finding the light switch!
I don’t encourage everyone to voluntarily subject themselves to adversity if they don’t have to, but I do recommend engaging in acts of kindness to grow one’s empathy and compassion, such that the path to awareness is more clear. Here are some suggestions:
I noticed it was what was on his shirt as I approached. He was probably about 16. I stopped him, there in the Roseville Public Library, by the entrance.
“Do you actually seize the day?” I inquired.
“What?” He was clearly startled by this random stranger, accosting him in the middle of a public place.
I noticed he had braces. The glasses made him look like he was right out of Superbad. My glasses had gold rims in those days.
“Your shirt. ‘Carpe Diem’ means ‘Seize the Day.’”
“Oh, I guess,” he stammered, put off by my direct question. Maybe he was unaware?
“You definitely should.” My answer was direct, and with the confidence of someone either used to random encounters with strangers, or not in his right mind. I leave it for him to decide!
Life is very short and more often than not, you let other people and circumstances dictate yours.
I wonder if he will consider the slogans on his shirts?
Lots of cars today. I pick up four cans and paint over another tag. The ivy needs trimming again, but I forgot the clippers.
After I’m done, I like to sit and watch passing cars with dad. Today is the thirty year anniversary of his accident with the cement mixer.
(cross-posted to 50wordstory)
This hummus recipe comes from my friend Shawna. She’s made it many times during our Sunday role-playing game, and it is delicious. It satisfies beefy guys like her husband, me, and our mutual friend Richard, all of whom are over 6’ tall and have a similar build. It’s great as a snack, but it can even serve as a meal if you dress it up enough.
Ingredients:
Directions:
Preparation time: 15-20 minutes
Additional notes from Friend Shawna:
Consistency is key! I have eaten a lot of icky, runny hummus at restaurants… why!? For use on bread, “warm runny peanut butter” is just the right texture; for chips, just a little softer, but please, no soupy hummus.
If you are going to blend in soft solids like roasted bell pepper, mix them in gently by hand so they maintain their interest and dignity.
I use S&W exclusively because every brand seems to vary widely in salt content and I hate tinkering with the salt.
This recipe was engineered without tahini because I am allergic to it. Adding it in may require adjustment but I understand it is quite good; give it a try if you can find it.
Hummus is like spaghetti and everyone has a different idea about how to do it right. Since it’s so darn expensive at the deli, so cheap to make, and such a flexible dish, it’s worth playing around with until you have it the way you like.
It’s fall again, so I updated this recipe and am reposting it, complete with a picture and a bit more explanation.
It’s not always easy for Becky and I to agree on food, as she’s vegetarian and I like nearly everything except plain coffee. However, this chili is great for both of us and great for the cool weather. It’s hearty, delicious, and will leave you satisfied.
Ingredients:
Also try adding:
Directions:
Preparation time: 15 minutes
Cook time: 6-8 hours (start in the morning for best results!)
Serving suggestion: it serves six and is great with shredded cheddar cheese, sour cream, and corn chips.