A Brief Rundown of Heller
I think most people have better things to do than read 157 pages of judicial decision over the summer, but I spent all yesterday vigilantly scouring the U.S. Supreme Court’s District of Columbia v. Heller opinion written by Scalia. While I bet most people don’t want to read these long texts for themselves to sort through their meanings, I hope that they are skeptical of all-or-nothing summaries declaring that either Heller is God’s Blessing Upon our Glorious Faithful Nation or it is An Opinion Guaranteed to Lead to Violent Rioting Chaos Throughout the U.S. So after briefly purveying news results, I was sad to find lots of opinions of and political responses to Heller, but no clear evaluation of its actual implications. Political evaluations and opinions most certainly have their place, but a clear understanding of a case’s holdings should come first.
I’ve typed up this basic evaluation of Heller after reading the whole thing and noting what it specifically purports to do and not to do, and I hope it is helpful to anyone who’s interested in understanding the decision.
One Score Later
Thinking of something to write about for the forum during the summer is like trying to think of something to pray aloud about during the last minutes of a prayer-a-thon. Somebody has already mentioned the global church, natural disasters, carnal sin, cancer, and the Babylonian character of the media, so all that’s left is…the negative influence of SONAR on whale migrational habits?
But then I thought about what is—to self-centered me—the one event happening this summer at Whitworth: the renovation/potential ruination of Westminster and Alder. And it got me thinking: where will Whitworth be twenty years from now? (besides, you know, Spokane) In my time at the Whit, I have witnessed the birth and post-partum difficulties of Duvall, seen a hallway Cinderella-ed into a coffee shop, made the transition to the card access system, etc., etc. That’s just in three years.
So where’s Whitworth going to be one score from now? Here’s what I think—more and less seriously, mostly based on extrapolation, premonition, and a little rumor:
Twenty years from now,… Read more
This explains everything.
Tear Down This Wall, Mr. Schwab
I’m not sure if this is the best place for this, but it is basically the first draft for a piece I am writing. I am interested in hearing your opinions on both the subject, and the piece itself. Thanks. -Brent
There is no wall separating east Mountlake Terrace from west Mountlake Terrace. If there was a wall, the East side would be populated by the Smaller Learning Communities proponents. These would include former principal Mark Baier, former vice principal, and most prominent pro-SLC voice, Steven Gering, and most notably, Bill and Melinda Gates. Yes, the Bill Gates and his wife. The Westside would consist of the SLC opponents, including most students, many parents, and some faculty members. The Smaller learning communities, much like communism looks great on paper. The idea is simple. In the last fifty years, the average high school has grown from 1,000 students to 1,500 students, and research has shown that “smaller schools are safer and more productive because students feel less alienated, more nurtured and more connected to caring adults, and teachers feel that they have more opportunity to get to know and support their students” (Great Source Grants and Funding). So, if you are a large school, like Mountlake Terrace High School with its 1,800 plus students, you use grant money from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation to divide yourself into smaller “academies” within the school to give each individual school the feel of a smaller school. As a former Mountlake Terrace student who attended the school both before and during the implementation of the SLCs, I can tell you that like communism, in practice, the SLCs are not an effective fix.
Let the Great Experiment Begin!
My friend and I have decided to create our own blog. This is Justin. He is my blog partner in crime. His minor celebrity shouldn’t hurt ( not to mention he is dreeeeamy). I, to the dismay of some, will not cease posting in this forum, but this new blog will be an outlet for things not relevant to this blog (or posts about chacos).
So, in preparation I am beginning a blog training regimen to get into tip-top blogging shape. I figure that with just two of us writing, I should write at least two posts a week. I am going to start by doing a blog a week. I am going to find articles online that somehow relate to Whitworth, college life, higher education, or something along those lines, and then write something about them. Hopefully something insightful, dialogue inciting, or otherwise interesting.
The first story I found is about certified smart guy Lukasz Zyblut who decided to go to Harvard after being accepted to Princeton, Yale, Stanford, Dartmouth, Pennsylvania, Amherst, Cornell, Columbia, Georgetown, NYU, Middlebury, Occidental (does Occidental seem out of place to you?), Richmond, Ohio Wesleyan, DePauw, Carnegie Mellon, and CUNY Hunter. That must have been a tough decision. Which brings me to the subject of this post, what made you decide to come to Whitworth? Furthermore, at what point did you realize you had made the right, or wrong, decision?
I had my decision narrowed down to two choices, Whitworth College as it was known in those days, or Concordia University Portland. I knew I wanted to go to a small school because I would be easily distracted by the social life of a larger state school like WSU or UW. I decided to visit both schools before making my final decision. Concordia was first, and after my visit I was ready to move to Portland. In retrospect I think I was blinded by the huge dorm rooms. All the dorms were new, built in the last 10 years, and had huge rooms with a bathroom between every two rooms. Think Duvall but bigger. I was so sure I even created a facebook page with my CU-P email address ( I still have to log with my now defunct bflyberg@mail2.cu-portland.edu email address). My Whitworth visit was a week later and when I arrived it was early evening in May. The first time I saw the loop lit up in all of its sparkling, shimmering, splendor, I knew CU was not in my future. Baseball, money, and location also played a role in my decision, but the campus was the deal maker for me.
The second night of traditiation was the moment I knew I had made the right choice. I don’t remember what we were doing, but I remember having more fun than I thought humanly possible, and feeling like I was already a part of the Whitworth family. I also remember a lot of free food those first few days. That was nice.
So I ask again, why did you come to Whitworth, and when did you know that it was the right, or wrong, choice?
The Catholic Mystique
No one will deny that there are some blatant biases on the Whitworth campus. Some get talked about more than others. There’s probably been more discussion about the bias against gays at Whitworth than there has been about the bias against, say, smokers. On the whole, though, most biases seem allowed at least a modicum of dialogue. There is one in particular, though, that I haven’t seen discussed in a public forum at all.
That, my friends, is the bias against Catholics.
Before you deny having any idea of what I’m talking about, I’ll admit it’s not just Whitworth. I’ve grown up going to various private schools. It’s always very heavily emphasized that there is no denominational favoritism. Yet, strangely, Catholics always seem to get left out from under this tolerance umbrella. “We’re all a big, happy family….except for the Catholics. They’re weird.” There is a similar attitude at Whitworth. Presbyterian-oriented as it is, I’ve never heard of any of my multidenominational friends have to deal with being told they’re “not really Christians,” having the tenets of their beliefs dismissed as being “outdated,” or having a sin committed by a miniscule amount of people associated with their denomination thrown in their faces over and over again. Except Catholics. Why is this?
There may be several reasons. America itself isn’t exactly geared toward Catholic friendliness, having been founded by low-church Puritans. And Catholic theology doesn’t really mesh well with our modern sensibilities. Nobody really listens to their parents anymore, so the idea of listening to some old guy in Rome who wears a funny hat is really out there. Accountability isn’t real big either. It’s a lot easier to just quietly whisper to a conveniently invisible and rather quiet God the fact that you totally blew it on keeping your relationship with your girlfriend pure for the third weekend in a row than it is to confess to a respectable priest you really admire, who’s probably going to give you a good telling off. But since when were our religious beliefs supposed to conform to what was fashionable, or even what was easy?
Then there’s the fact that Catholics and Protestants are supposed to be mortal enemies, religiously speaking – Protestants did split from the Catholic Church after all. Yes? So? One of the reasons there are so many varying Protestant denominations is splintering of the original movement away from Catholicism. Yet the only denomination that constantly has the others at its throat is Catholicism. Why?
Finally, I’ll address the issue I’m sure everyone has had in mind since I the word “Catholic” came up. Pedophile priests. Everyone knows priests are just a bunch of dirty old men, right? Ever since the abuse scandal broke in 2002, the Catholic Church has been up to its ears in bad press. And rightly so! Any organization that allowed such horrendous goings-on to fly under the radar for so many years should be inundated with nay-sayers! Except that a look at the statistics yields something odd. There are 11,000 cases of abuse by about 4,000 priests and deacons in the U.S. since 1950, about 4% out of the total amount of priests in the U.S. That’s five decades. Comparatively, 290,000 students experienced some sort of physical sexual abuse by a school employee from ONE DECADE —1991-2000. So where is all the outrage about pedophile teachers?
In my admittedly limited experience at Whitworth, I’ve found it to be a friendly environment without outright hostility. It’s that lurking under the surface that I’m worried about. Hopefully I’ve given everyone some things to ponder. And next time you feel like telling your buddy that absolutely hilarious priest joke you heard the other day…maybe you won’t.
Things I Don’t Understand
What? Sandals just aren’t douchey enough? So you genetically crossbreed a sandal and a Birkenstock? The result is a hideous mutant freak shoe that is a crime against nature. Quit playing God you Dr. Moreau of footwear
Jessica Biel:
She is just not that hot.
The Mariners keeping Richie Sexson:
This is not a sports blog (If you would like to see a good one try Withleather) so I won’t bore you with stats and whatnot, but he is as worthless to the Mariners as Jack Johnson is to music.
Skydiving:
Throw myself out of a plane? No thanks. Here is a list of things I would rather do: Eat a cricket, wear chacos in the winter, punch myself in the face, play scrabble with Nancy Grace, watch an episode of Mind of Mencia… ehhh, maybe not that last one.
Cover charges at bars:
You want me to pay you for the privilege to come in and buy alcohol at your bar? I’ll pass.
The Arcade Fire:
I am missing something here? Am I the only person who does not like the Arcade Fire? Really? Maybe I am missing something, but I just can not stand how pretentious they are.
Comedians who blame the audience when their joke bombs:
You probably don’t see this a lot because most comics who are good enough to be on TV don’t do it, but as an open mic regular I see it often. Example: comic goes to the stage and pulls out phone, (props?) pretends to have conversation with someone on the other end of the phone. Conversation is profanity laced and about a club she went to. Punchline: “The club was called the Aristocrats,” near silence, one person sympathy chuckles, “Oh good, one person here has seen that movie.” No, he was not the only audience member who had seen the movie or was familiar with the concept, the joke wasn’t funny. Five minutes of almost incomprehensible muttering full of f-bombs followed by “The aristocrats” is not a joke. Don’t insult my intelligence by assuming that your jokes are too complicated for me. They were not funny. Get over yourself.
Horses:
If you don’t live on a farm, you don’t need a horse. Someone tell my neighbor back home. Every time I drive down my drive way, at a reasonable speed mind you, it spooks her horse, which results in her shooting me a dirty look.
Black Licorice:
It tastes like dirt. On a related note, here is something else I don’t understand, how I can hate black licorice, but not mind the taste of Jägermeister.
Homophobes:
I worked with a guy who was: A. A total douche, and B. a homophobe (I think the two really go hand in hand). We worked for a party rentals company and one day we were setting up a bunch of tents at a winery in Woodinville. This winery had an event coordinator named Marcus. Marcus is gay. Not normal gay dude gay, but TV stereotype gay. Like Ryan Evans gay. We had some questions about the tents and Marcus was the person to ask. “I’m not gonna ask him, I avoid talking to gay guys whenever possible,” Mike so eloquently stated, “ ‘Cuz if one of hit on me, I’d probably have to kick his ass.” Keep in mind, this is at 9:30 in the morning, and Mike already has ranch dressing on his face, shirt and sock. Gay dudes are not into that, you fat, sloppy bastard. No one is into that. A lot of guys think that because they have no standards and will copulate with any woman that breathes, that gay dudes are the same way, but (duh) with dudes. Not true. Homophobes, think of gay dudes as being like your classier male friends who actually have standards. Dipset! No homophobia. (I guess you guys don’t get that joke. Your fault, not mine.)
Why your mother refuses to tell you that she and I are in a relationship:
You are an adult and you deserve to know. Now that I am your new daddy, go mow my lawn.
Why the open face sandwiches went away:
It has been mentioned in this blog several times (sometimes by me, sometimes others) that SAGA did make delicious open faced sandwiches in the pizza conveyor/oven at lunch, but now they are gone. In their place we have a pizza with mushrooms so big and gnarly they look like they escaped from middle earth. (Is that what it is called in LOTR? Or is it Mid-world? Is that from The Dark Tower? Am I a nerd? Yes.)
Arrested Development gets canceled during the 2005-2006 season and Mind of Mencia was the highest rated show on Comedy Central in 2005, and is still on the air:
I just threw up.
The Spanish subjunctive tense:
AKA the bane of my existence.
The Japanese language:
I watched five minutes of a Japanese language on Youtube the other day, and I did not understand a single word. I know; I was surprised too.
Spokane Dick’s:
How is this even legal? The same name, same menu (plus crap), same style, but much lower quality than a real Dick’s. It is an embarrassment to Richard himself, customers, the city of Spokane, cows, potatoes, and most importantly, me. I love Dick’s. (No homophobia.)
How to cut my post in half and insert “more after the jump” link:
But, oh, those summer nights.
School’s out for the summer. It’s been out for so long that, by now, Alice Cooper’s voice is horribly sore.
And for some of us. School’s out forever.
Summer has a curious quality. For some, it’s paradise. It’s a time to kick back, work on your tan, go to The Lake (capital T, capital L) relax and have fun.
For me, it’s more purgatory. Remember, if there’s one thing I despise, it’s relaxing-and-having-fun. (I’ve combined the two because so many people conflate them.) And I’ve always found the very concept of tanning to be vain. Part of that’s because while others turn a deep profound brown — like a perfectly roasted marshmallow — I slowly a crimson red, an evolutionary response, no doubt, that enabled my ancestors to camouflage in with, say, a stop sign. Then, like a snake, I doff that outer layer of crispy skin, returning to my usual stock printer paper color.
So instead of spending the summer months frolicking in the sprinkler, summer was about waiting. Thumb-twiddling until school started again. I spent most of that time preparing, charging up, for the upcoming school year. In high school that meant running 50 miles a week, in college that meant desperately looking for a job. Sometimes I typed up a column to put in Varnished Truth arsenal reserves. I’d usually read an Important Book or two, so I could sound smart during the school year by awkwardly relating whatever conversation I was having to Tolstoy.
Last summer, in the precious 1-hour break at Lutherhaven, I spent my time furiously typing up Mock Rock intros, and trying to put together something called the Whitworth Forum.
Here’s my question: Besides the requisite summer job, what are you up to this summer? That may seem like just a boring small talk question, but I’m hoping for any straggling commenteers to delve deeper. For you, what is the purpose of this curious season they call summer? What makes summer shine?