Imagination@Work

From Wow to Huh?

When I first saw this I thought, "Man, this would make a great novel. Maybe the forgotten dead come back to reclaim the earth from the living...or something." It's the way a writer's mind works. Then I got to the end of the ad. See if you can guess what the product is before the video ends.

AG

My Confession

Confession is good for the soul, some wise sage said and he is probably right. Looking back over my education I’m surprised by how some of my interests have changed. To be sure, many have remained the same. I still love the sciences, still keep my finger in architectural design, and still enjoy the kind of short stories and novels I did as a teenager. If a sci fi movie comes out or a new series debuts on television, I’m there.

But some things have changed.

In junior high school (in my day and my part of the country that means grades 7-9), the administration forced me to take typing. I had no choice. If given the opportunity to skip the class I would have fled so fast nothing but a vacuum would remain where I once stood. But I was deemed too young to have an opinion or make a sensible decision, so they imprisoned me and twenty other students in a classroom with giant Underwood typewriters which were more suited to life as a boat anchor than a tool of communication.

I added my voice to the wave of groans that came when we had to learn how to set tabs and justify text. And changing the ribbon! Don’t ask. How criminal of the adults to make me park my skinny fanny in an uncomfortable chair and pound keys to learn a skill I knew I would never use. Day after day the clacking of keys mingled into a cacophony of maddening typing. I hated it. What a waste of time.

I also despised English class. Who cares if verbs agree in number as long as the meaning of a sentence is understood? Whoever invented the sentence diagram, I felt then, should be shot.

Then came speech class. What agony! What sorrow! Forced to stand before the class and…deliver…a SPEECH. Nothing could be worse. Well, there were a few moments of entertainment when a student gave a speech on how to brush your teeth, pantomiming every step then hung up when he couldn’t figure out how to pretend to spit. (The teacher discouraged real spitting in class.)

My distaste for speech class continued into college. I did most things required of me to pass. Then came the final: a humorous speech. Oh, the pain of it all. How can one be funny when one’s heart beats like a piston in an Indy car and one’s mouth is so dry the inside of his cheeks crack?

So, I got clever. I added up all the points I had earned in the class and found to my great joy that I had enough points to still get a “C” without the final speech. So when the professor called my name I said, “I will not be delivering a speech today.”

I got my C.

So how do I spend my life these days? Typing, writing (and thereby using English skills), and I have given over 3,000 public presentations of one sort or another. Ironic, ain’t it?

Therein is the point. We never know what the future holds for us. The things we dislike now may become something we love a few years later. I’ve even learned to like broccoli (cheese sauce fixes everything).

What I’ve glean from all of this is to love learning even if the subject doesn’t appeal to me at first. One of the great joys of being a writer is the learning that comes with the process. I written about WWII submarines (and contemporary subs), small town politics, genetic manipulation, space tragedies, eminent domain, the Ark of the Covenant, and many other fascinating topics. Of course, I didn’t know they were fascinating until I began the research.

King Solomon said, “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of kings is to search out a matter.” (Proverbs 25:2, NASB)

Searching is learning, and there is a glory to that.

AG

Rational Faith

I have been a long time reader of Scientific American magazine. I began perusing its pages back in high school and have stayed with it through the decades. Some time back, Michael Shermer became a contributing editor and columnist for the magazine. For those not familiar with Dr. Shermer, he is the founder and editor of Skeptic Magazine. As you might guess, he's not particularly chummy with Christian thought and ideals. Every month, I open my issue of Scientific American and begin working my way through its glossy pages knowing that I will soon come across another column by Shermer. When I do, I take a deep breath and steal myself for another verbal slapping.

Scientific American also has an e-newsletter and my copy arrived in my in box today. I immediately keyed on an article titled, "Rational Atheism." I clicked the link and low and behold there is Shermer's name in the byline.

I sighed.

I read.

The article made me extremely uncomfortable—because I agreed with it. Me and Shermer in agreement! I felt glad to be sitting down.

Shermer's article is an open letter to Messrs. Dawkins (The God Delusion, Houghton Mifflin, 2006), Dennett (Breaking the Spell, Viking, 2006), Harris (Letter to a Christian Nation, Knopf, 2006) and Hitchens (God is Not Great, Hachette Book Group, 2007). Perhaps you've heard of these books. They are the lead spears in the attack on faith. Each has been on the New York Times Bestseller list. Atheism is the new trend.

Shermer is in agreement with those who see religion in general and Christianity specifically is a danger to rational society. Yet, his article calls for a more reasoned approach. He makes five statements to his fellow unbelievers in an effort to raise the bar of debate and interaction. I found it ironic. Not ironic for those on the atheist’s side of the fence, but for those on the believer’s side.

As I read his advice to his brethren, I kept thinking, "The community of faith needs this." Hence the screeching of my mental tires. Let's look at his contentions.

"Anti-something movements by themselves will fail." He adds, "Atheists cannot simply define themselves by what they do not believe." There is wisdom in that statement. Christians should not define themselves by what they don't believe, but by what they do.

"Positive assertions are necessary." Shermer argues, from a Darwin quote, that it is better to just put the truth out there and let people do with it what they will.

"Rational is as rational does." He explains, "It is irrational to take a hostile or condescending attitude toward religion because by doing so we virtually guarantee that religious people will respond in kind." On many fronts, the rational Christian voice has been replaced with attack-dog apologetics, ridicule, and misrepresentation. To paraphrase Shermer (who is paraphrasing Forrest Gump), Faith is as Faith does.

"The golden rule is symmetrical." Christians cannot expect to be treated with respect while withholding respect for those who disagree with them. I have spent many years in the faith and have yet to see anyone ridiculed into the Kingdom of God.

"Promote freedom of belief and disbelief." Shermer believes the freedom to think is a higher moral principle than science and religion. The theologian in me trips over the statement but I think I know what he means. "Freedom," he notes, "to disbelieve is inextricably bound to the freedom of others to believe." Of course, he is right.

Atheism is not new. Plurality of religion is not new. King David spoke of those who say "...there is no God." (Psalm 14:1) There were atheist then, there are atheist now, and there will be more in the future. Why do we act like this is a sudden and unexpected assault?

I commend Dr. Shermer for attempting to raise the level of "discussion" and taking a stand before his fellow scientists and atheists. Perhaps, without knowing it, he is advocating an approach taught in the Bible. Consider these verses:

1 Peter 3:15-17

But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander. NIV

Colossians 4:5-6

Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. NIV

2 Timothy 2:24-26

And the Lord's servant must not quarrel; instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. Those who oppose him he must gently instruct, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth, and that they will come to their senses and escape from the trap of the devil, who has taken them captive to do his will. NIV

It might surprise many, but there is such a thing as Rational Christianity. In fact, I would argue that God touches the mind before he touches the heart.

In my novel, Crime Scene Jerusalem, a “Christ-character” states, “Facts are objective. A belief without objectivity lacks a brain; a belief without subjectivity lacks a heart. Together, they give birth to faith.”

As I mentioned before, Shermer and I are seldom on the same page in matters of faith, but in this case, I appreciate his approach and his goal. Of course, his next article may cause me to bite through my lip…

AG

 

PLAY BALL!

Of late, I’ve been watching the Little League World Series on ESPN—and I don’t know why. It’s true that I enjoy baseball (I’m a Padres fan, thank you very much). As I child I played a good number of pickup games, but my Little League experience was limited, partly because I preferred to devote my great mental energies to reading astronomy books (my teachers always said I took up space), comic books, and other print material. That and I stunk at the game.

I did learn two important lessons. First came during batting practice. I waited for the current batter to finish his reps so I could step into the batter’s box and show him how it’s done. Apparently, he was one of those mind-reading mutants I read about in those comic books I mentioned earlier, because as I leaned against the support post for the backstop my teammate, in an act defies every law of physics known to human kind, took a might swing and fouled the ball—straight into my young and formerly perfect nose.

Stars…darkness…scoring pain…and the odd sense that my brain was shaking like Jell-O on a warm plate.

The lesson? Stand behind the backstop. That’s why it’s there.

Lesson two came in a similar fashion except I was in the right place doing my job: charging a screaming grounder racing between the shortstop and third baseman. I lowered my glove, set one eye on the runner as he raced toward first. The ball hit a chuck hole, then hit me in the mouth. When I opened my eyes, the runner had safely crossed home plate.

If baseball had a Hall of Klutzes I would have been enshrined by my eleventh birthday.

So why do I watch a bunch of 11 and 12 year olds play the noble sport? I’ve asked that question many times. I don’t just watch the games; I really, really enjoy them. Why? My son didn’t play the game. I don’t coach. I don’t attend games in the area.

I first came across the LLWS years ago. I had been speaking at a small college in Ventura and decided to take lunch at one of my old haunts in Ojai, California (a fabulous place). I took my meal in the shaded courtyard of Antonio’s, a fine Mexican restaurant. They had a television on and, you guessed it, a bunch of kids were playing baseball. I was hooked.

So what captivates me? Believe it or not, I’ve given this some thought. I think the key reason is this: Little League is the purest form of baseball. The field is manned (er, boyed?) by children not multimillionaire adults. There are no agents and no lucrative sponsorship deals. Everyone involved is a volunteer. No one gets a paycheck. There are just kids who love the game and really, really, really, want to win.

It’s not uncommon to see a five-foot-two eleven year old pitching to a six-foot-one batter. Every great play is reward with excited cheers and when things don’t go well, there’s always another opportunity for redemption.

Some great plays are made, tons of mistakes are made. So what? The kids are trying to do something great, something they will never forget. Most will never become professional ballplayers (although some have) but they will have for the rest of their lives the memory that they made it to the series.

Oh sure, the winners cheer and the losers (none are losers in my eyes) cry. Life doesn’t always grow to match our dreams, but that doesn’t matter as much as being in the game. Maybe that’s the real reason I watch: It reminds me  that winning is great but more important is just being in the game.

AG

The Problem of Perfection

Last night as I lay in bed, I read Michael Crichton’s latest novel, NEXT and began to chuckle. Dr. Crichton (M.D.) isn’t known for sidesplitting humor, but he made a wee error. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m a Crichton fan. I read everything he puts out, I’ve listened to his speeches and am prone to watch any television show on which he makes an appearance. I don’t always agree with him (something I’m certain melts the marrow in his bones), but I have longed admired him.

NEXT is a techno-thriller dealing with genetic manipulation and transgenic animals. It doesn’t give the plot away to mention that a talking chimpanzee is part of the story. Transgenics—the mixing of genetic material from different species to produce an altered species—is a hot topic these days. Spider genes in goats, zebra fish that glow, and more are interesting and controversial.

While reading NEXT, I came across this line: “A transgender higher primate? You know Hitler tried to cross a human and a chimp.”

What kind of higher primate? Transgender? I think he meant transgenic or something similar. A transgender primate would be a male chimpanzee in a nice pair of spectator pumps, a skirt, and bra. There’s not many letters difference between transgenic and transgender, but a whole world of difference in meaning.

Do I mock Crichton? Nope. He’s one of my favorite authors. Beside, I have no room to talk. I’m the guy who wrote, “Namui sat on the ground eating rice from a rough wooden bowel.” Yep, I wrote bowel when I meant bowl. Thankfully, a sharp-eyed editor caught it before it went to press. I also penned, “The widow was enormous, reaching from floor to ceiling and wall to wall.” Of course, I meant window. (My apologies to all enormous widows in the world.)

I have a point to make: We all make mistakes. If you’re a writer, sooner or later something will get by you, your editor, your line editors, and everyone else in the train of production—but it won’t get by every reader. Trust me.

The problem with reaching for perfection is that it forever remains out of reach. Every person involved in imagination work wants a perfect product, film, book, painting, architectural design, etc. It seldom turns out to be perfect. In my field of book writing, typos and errors are common. Do the math. A 100,000 word book that is 99% accurate still has 1,000 mistakes. At 99.9% accuracy, there remain 100 mistakes. So, 99.99% brings it down to 10 booboos. What amazes me is how few mistakes make it into the final product.

The problem comes when the craftsman/artist becomes paralyzed by perfection. It is said that the only reason J.R.R. Tolkien’s first book was published is because his pal C.S. Lewis told to him stop fiddling with it and send it to the publisher. Tolkien feared imperfection.

It’s not easy realizing that hundreds of hours of work still fall short of perfection, but such is life.

Back in my architecture time, one of the principals of my firm told me of his early days as an architect. He had designed a multistory commercial structure built with steel columns and beams. At the job site he watched as a crane lifted the first beam into place between two columns. He noticed something: the beam was two short. A review of the plans revealed he had made a slight math error. Scores of very expensive steel beams rested on the job site none of them usable. Ouch.

I used to receive an e-newsletter that always led with a paragraph like this: “Any mistakes and typos in the newsletter are intentional and provided for the enjoyment and entertainment of the reader.” Nice approach.

There comes a time in the creative effort when we have to push it out of the nest and see if it flies. If you wait for perfection, then you’ll wait a long time.

Crichton’s book is not harmed or cheapened by the typo. It did, however, give me a reason to smile and say, “At least I’m not alone.”

AG

www.altongansky.com

PS—Any typos or mistakes in this blog are intentional and provided for the reader…

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