Why I'm a Moderate...

For the past several months, I've been trying to get fellow moderates to pick a day for a moderate blogging blitz. I ultimately chose today because it coincides with Jon Stewart's rally, the concept of which is the exact reason I think moderates need to speak up. On both sides of the aisle there is too much vitriol, too much conflict and rancor, and so I will tell you why I'm a moderate in hopes it might help some to "take it down a notch for America."

First, though, it bears mentioning that being moderate is not another way of saying being apathetic. It doesn't mean being lazy. It doesn't mean being weak. It requires more work than any other mindset (note that I didn't say ideology) because it requires research on every issue to develop an opinion.

Moderates get attacked from both sides (usually by pundits) using those arguments for a simple reason: Moderates are unpredictable. You can never group them together into a single mass and pander to them. This is why there is no moderate party.

Now, on to the show:

I am a moderate because I will not let others tell me what I should think.

I am a moderate because I don't believe that just because someone is fiscally conservative they must also be socially conservative.

I am a moderate because I don't believe that just because someone is fiscally liberal they must also be socially liberal.

I am a moderate because I don't believe people have to be entirely fiscally (or socially) liberal or conservative.

I am a moderate because I choose to select my positions on issues a la carte.

I am a moderate because I believe politics is the art of the compromise.

I am a moderate because I don't think compromise is a bad thing and will not no matter who tries to argue that it is waffling.

I am a moderate because I believe it to be a virtue to change opinions on an issue if a new understanding or new evidence invalidates the old opinion.

I am a moderate because I believe both sides of the aisles have good ideas.

I am a moderate because I don't believe either side has nothing but good ideas.

I am a moderate because I don't believe in forcing people to agree with me.

I am a moderate because I choose to ascribe what I see as bad behavior to ignorance or a lack of charisma rather than to malice.

I am a moderate because I recognize that the choices I make don't have to be the only options for everyone.

I am a moderate because I don't believe reductio ad Hitlerum is conducive to a reasoned and logical discussion of anything (except perhaps World War II or related subjects).

I am a moderate because I believe you are entitled to your own opinion even if we disagree (especially if we disagree).

I am a moderate because I think things will work out if we work together.

Fellow moderates, feel free to add your own in the comments below.

Farewell to Aubrey and Maturin (or Where have All the Christians Gone?)

Today I finished the final (unfinished--heh, there's a zen puzzler for you) story in the Aubrey-Maturin series by Patrick O'Brian. After 21 books, it's like saying goodbye to old friends. It's an epic storyline containing some of the best characterizations I've read. The world O'Brian creates (apparently a quite faithful representation of life 200 years ago) is engrossing. While under the thrall of the books, I feel like I belong in that time, and I never fail to be shocked by our own world when I emerge.

As I finish it, I guess it's time to ask the question that has nagged at me ever since I first picked up Master and Commander: Where have all the christians gone?

First, a few definitions since the terms I wish to use here have been out of use for decades if not centuries. A christian, herein, is an upstanding person who always thinks of others and acts such as to never offer offense, clears up any offense that may have inadvertently occurred, and in all things seeks to maintain civility. A christian person does not necessarily believe in Christianity any more than a spartan person comes from Greece (the missing capitalization is intentional and meaningful).

A scrub is a generally disagreeable person who tends to aggrandize himself, his friends, or his cause at the cost of "common" civility. A scrub doesn't necessarily hang out of the passenger side of his best friend's ride, but he may. The primary marker is a disregard for others' feelings.

A blaggard is worse than a scrub in that he tends to be openly hostile and will retaliate to any perceived slight. Think of blaggards as scrubs-squared.

Reading O'Brian's books, you quickly become overwhelmed with how polite everyone is to each other. When people disagree, they don't shout or fight, trying to force the other to accept their side. Only scrubs and blaggards do that: scrubs turning every conversation into a debate, and blaggards seeking to destroy anyone they cannot sway.

Ultimately, the difference between our world and the world of 1814 is that there are increasingly few christians, while scrubs and blaggards are increasingly plentiful (just watch TV, read a comments section online, or talk to a coworker . I don't hold myself up as an example people should emulate. While I'd like to say I'm a christian, and I do have my moments, generally I'm a scrub.

An example (not a great one, but the first that comes to mind because it's what made me look at myself): In several instances in the books, someone will approach another with news such as the fort will return our salute. The person receiving the news has already learned this from some other source. In such a situation, the first words that would come from my mouth are, "I know." However, in every such situation, Jack Aubrey would reply something to the effect of "That's good news. Thank you."

A small example, but let's look at it. "I know," is brief and moves the conversation on to new ground where perhaps the messenger might tell you something interesting. However, place yourself in this scene as the messenger. You are bringing a message that your friend, boss, etc. has been anticipating, only to find you have been pre-empted. Your message is dismissed. The wind goes from your sails, and you are no longer the bearer of good news. You're last week's Tribune. This is a scrubbish thing to do to someone.

On the other hand, "That's good news. Thank you." takes a few more seconds. Ultimately, in the course of conversation-time, it is the same. The conversation ends in the exactly the same place, but the messenger feels good. Does it matter that his news wasn't fresh? This response is gracious. It's receptive. It's civil.

Acting like a christian is a matter of getting along. It means seeing the compliment someone wants to receive and giving it. It's recognizing that nothing you believe in is so important it's worth being a scrub over, let alone a blaggard. It's being the change you wish to see in the world.

Really, where all the christians went should be obvious. The key to acting a christian is recognizing the humanity of those around you. Increasingly, our society bowls alone. The internet is a wasteland of incivility and blaggards (we call them trolls) largely because the people with whom you interact are not really people to you, they are a block of text on your screen. Road rage flares most when you look at the drivers around you and see cars instead of people.

Have you ever been mad at the maneuver someone did around you only to recognize them as someone you know? The anger melts away and is replaced by pleasure at the anticipation of the ribbing you'll give them next time you see them.

Thus, as I say farewell to Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin I will miss my frequent dips into a world where people are polite. It's not a utopia where all people drink coke and dance on a mountainside. There are fights, disagreements, and arguments. In fact, the first scene in the series shows their meeting wherein they nearly come to a duel over a disagreement over how they enjoy a concert. Jack tells Stephen where his hotel is so Stephen may find him later and demand satisfaction.

When Stephen arrives the next morning to ask forgiveness for acting the scrub, Jack invites him to breakfast, and they come to know each other. Their adventures go on fill 21 books.

And that's really it. A christian isn't someone who never acts like a scrub. They are those who recognize their inner scrub and make amends when it gets out. They are those to whom civility is ultimately more important than their own pride.

Think as I Think

One of my favorite poems is "Think as I Think, Said a Man" by Stephen Crane. I love the message of it, but there is another reason I love this poem:

"Think as I think," said a man,
"Or you are abominably wicked;
You are a toad."
And after I had thought of it,
I said, "I will, then, be a toad."

What I truly love about it is the fourth line. I picture Stephen Crane at a party, filling his plate from the shrimp platter. A man comes up to him and says, "Think as I think, or you are abominably wicked; you are a toad."

Stephen mmphs a "Whatever you say" around a mouthful of prawn, and the man laughs and walks away. Later that night, on the way home, Stephen shouts, "I will, then, be a toad. Man, that would have been awesome."

8 Years Ago

For me, September 11, 2001 was pretty uneventful. I am one of the few Americans who, when asked about 9/11, have to retrieve my shock from a mental file labeled 9/12.

I was in Kwangyang, South Korea serving as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The attacks happened right around midnight local time. I learned about them at 6:40 am, while I was studying scriptures with my companion.

The phone rang and my supervisor told me there had been an attack on America. Something about explosions and planes in New York and Washington, and we were to stay inside that day until we were sure it wasn't open-season on Americans.

A while later I received a call from a friend in Naju. She asked if I'd heard about the attacks, and I begged her for details. She spoke excellent English, and almost always spoke to us in our own language. She told me about the planes and the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and I passed the information on to my companion.

Then she said, "The towers are gone."

To which I replied, "Gone?!" It made zero sense, and I figured she just mistranslated something, so I switched to Korean. "No longer exists?" I asked. She agreed. "Completely gone?" Again in Korean.

"Completely gone."

I can't exactly remember what happened next. I remember sitting down. I remember being lost for words (the only one I could find was "How?"). I remember staring into the middle distance (and I'd always thought that a cliche). While I sat stunned, she gave me what details were known about the hijackings.

About an hour later, my supervisor called back with actual details, nothing I didn't know now, and told us we were allowed to go out. We had shopping to do, so we went out. Every store and restaurant in town had TVs set to CNN, where we saw the attacks and subsequent falling towers. It was unreal. Looked like bad special effects. We all know what it looked like.

The Koreans were great. They expressed sympathy to us, and were nothing but kind. They knew what it was to see your country attacked. They had been there. They understood.

I finally understood them.

Let's Talk About Dean Koontz: Part 2

Koontz is an incredibly prolific writer, and much of that prolificacy comes from the fact that he draws his stories from common wells. Not to say his stories are all the same; only a handful seem truly repetitious (and if he tends to a certain plot, there are only a handful of those anyway).

Most of what he pulls from these wells just make up the skin of the story: setting, description, and minor sub-plots. They go more into his style or voice more than anything. So study this if you ever intend to write Koontz fan-fic (Kind of like how you should master a lexicon of words like cyclopean and eldritch if you want to impersonate Lovecraft. And don't forget the archaic spellings.... Stay tuned for a Lovecraft Lexicon in the future.)

So without further ado, here's the list of common Koontzisms (in no particular order).

1. Bougainvillea -- Probably Koontz's favorite flower. The only book I can think of without it is Icebound. And I only think it doesn't have bougainvillea because it's set in Antarctica, but there's probably some flashback or Denouement Picnic (see below) with it languidly climbing a trellis.

2. Dogs -- Koontz loves him his dogs. There are a few books without them (usually really old ones), but everything modern has them (most notable was The Darkest Evening of the Year, which was his love note to his beloved Golden Retriever, Trixie, who was dying at the time he wrote it). 75% of the Dogs in Koontz will be Goldens, 20% will be Labs, and all other breeds have to fight over the remaining 5% (statistics made up on the spot).

3. .38 Chief's Special -- The weapon of choice for a Koontz hero. They'll occasionally use others and will sometimes hit the black market for illegally modified uzi's and shotguns when the Nazis are coming.

4. Chinos and Rockports -- the standard-issue uniform for a Koontz hero. So common, I've begun to wonder if he has some kind of endorsement deal.

5. Unusual Similes -- Koontz uses similes like salt. After reading his stuff, you'll never have to worry about your thyroid, but you might want a gallon of fresh water. (Extended enough?)

6. Koontz's Law of Character Backstories -- Every character in a Koontz novel must come from a horrific background. If a hero's parent is dead, that parent committed suicide. In front of the hero. After telling him it's all his fault. Think about the worst possible things you can think of happening to a kid without killing him. Somewhere, that is the backstory of a Koontz hero(ine).

7. Denouement Picnic -- Most characters in Koontz's novels survive. They will gather at the end (with their various dogs) a year or so after the climax, usually for some kind of picnic or barbecue.

8. Criticism of Modern Society -- The world is going to hell, and it's the fault of those damned hippies. Koontz's characters tend to have personal creeds against the permissive trends of society and will fight against it symbolically in the climax.

9. Short Climaxes -- Most villains consider themselves to be gods, and Koontz ratchets up the tension with their immense powers, but the go down like punks. One bullet will usually do it. Basically the opposite of Roger Ebert's law of multiple villain deaths. Interesting thing is that it never really feels anticlimactic.

10. Rich Characters -- Koontz's characters are almost always self-sufficient. If they're not, their rich uncle will kick off in act 1 and leave them a sizeable inheritance. They never have ransom money, but they usually have anywhere from ten to fifty grand sitting around that they can use to buy illegally modified automatics, chief's specials, and H&K shotguns in act 2. The exception is Odd Thomas, who never seems to need money.

Well, those are the ten most obvious, but there's a ton more. What did I miss? Tell me in the comments.

Let's Talk About Dean Koontz: Part 1

I just got my hands on Relentless, Dean Koontz's newest thriller. I haven't had the chance to read it yet, but I think it will be next in the queue (I currently have 2 books going: Stephen King, and Spider Robinson).

Having mentioned King, it puts me in mind of a lot of pop cultural garbage against Koontz. It has become popular to hate Koontz as a second-rate, poor-man's King. That has never really struck me as a valid argument.

I come away with completely different feelings from each of them. Technically, they are both horror writers, but that's not where Koontz lives, and his stories never get as dark and dingy as King's (who has the distinction of being the only writer to make me want to take a shower after reading his work).

My feeling toward Koontz are mixed. When he's on, he is one of the greatest. When he's off, he's pretty bad (but more readable than other books I've suffered through, not naming any names). Interestingly, that's the same opinion King has of him. Just look at the interview where he famously said, "...Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn."

When it comes to Koontz, I'm not much of a critic. The problem is that I love Dean Koontz. I have read every book of his that I can get a hold of (43 at this point by my count. Relentless will be 44). When he's bad, I just shake my head as if the puppy just made a mess on the rug.

Reading Koontz is something of a homey experience, made so by the common threads that run through his books. There's probably a drinking game.

I intended at this point to take you through those common threads, but this post is already too long, so the threads will follow in a separate post.

4 years

It has been 4 years since my writing education began in earnest. Of course, I've been a writer for several times that. I used to think you can't learn how to write from someone else. I'm still pretty leery of writing classes in school (you need to have the right teacher or it might become more of an impediment than help).

The one nice thing about having gone my own way so long was that I had well over 400,000 of my million "practice words" written by that time. The drawback is that most of those words sucked since I didn't know what I was doing (my first novel was an impenetrable doorstop coming in at 275,000 words). For those keeping track at home, that's 3x as long as a first book should be.

Anyway, I just wanted to give a big thanks to those folks who have helped me most over these last 4 years: Robert J Defendi, Scott Rhoades, John English, Carolyn Larson, Dave Tippets, and Dave Wolverton.