Desensitized

     I've often thought about how desensitized I am to violence. Violence on TV and in the movies, it had stopped bothering me. I'm not exactly sure when this happened. I didn't grow up allowed to watch whatever I wanted (my parents banned me from Power Rangers because it had too much fighting!) and I don't think I watch overtly violent movies regularly but nonetheless I can watch someone get shot on TV, get hit with a bat, or kicked in the side and not think twice. That is, until recently I could watch those things.
     Dan had seen the movie Drive with his buddy Chris. They came back raving about it. It was so good. Dan couldn't stop talking about it -- he had enjoyed it thoroughly. His reaction made me turn my head and actually want to see it (along with the fact that Ryan Gosling stars) because film praise from Dan doesn't come easily; he was willing to pay money to see it again. So, naturally, I was intrigued and we went to go see it the next weekend. 
     No one warned me. Or maybe I didn't hear. The last half of the movie, the movie that, up until that point, had been slightly boring with the long silences, little dialogue, and driving scenes, became unapologetically violent. Like, slow motion gun shot murder, head being kicked in on an elevator (seconds after the hero kisses the girl for the first time, read: deal breaker), and many other acts that I only heard because my tear filled eyes were digging into Dan's shoulder, willing the scene, if not the movie, to end. 
     It finally ended and as we were walking out Dan asked about my reaction: "I didn't realize that it would bother you that much, I mean, you watch Walking Dead, which has tons of violence in its own right, without blinking an eye." 
     I tried to gather my thoughts, "When we watch The Walking Dead we are operating under the assumption that the Zombie's are not people, they are monsters, they will kill you; they are not living. This movie killed people, not the greatest people ever, but people. Their lives should matter more than that." 
     I think even I was surprised by my reaction. I had seen violence before, no? What changed? Part of me feels like I can trace it back to my experience at the gun range a few months ago. The first (and most likely last) time I had ever held a gun and felt it go off in my hands. It scared me to my core. This thing was created to kill. It is a weapon of death and people should not have them. Before you think I'm getting all preachy and trying to take away your second amendment right to bear arms, I'm not, I just hate the things and my experience with them changed how I view violence. 
     Up until that point I had never heard a gun in real life. It is loud. The gun shots on television and in the movies don't do it justice. Now, when I see a character point a gun at someone I wince. Do they know what they are doing? The power they have to take a life? And, it's only a character. I recently looked at the famous image from the Vietnam War where, after the Tet Offensive, a Viet Cong soldier has a gun to his head in the middle of the street. Violence. It's real. Why should I pay to watch it glorified?
     I am rereading Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment for my 19th century European History class. I was in the library reading, annotating, looking up words when I arrived at Rodya's dream. Dostoevsky describes the brutal treatment of an old horse that leads to its demise. The section was about three or four pages long; Dostoevsky doesn't do anything short. He describes the horses eyes, his tense body, his leg kicking out in a pathetic attempt at defense. I cried. I cried in the library cafe at school. I wasn't sobbing, it was silent, but tears were there. In public. Which might be fitting as my sister, Julia, pointed out: "The concepts of secrecy and privacy versus known and public, that are present in the book, almost demand it." 
     She makes a good, literary point but I am still shocked at my reaction. I mean, animal violence always gets me (shoot, the dog being put to sleep in that horrible Aniston-Owens flick had me sobbing for an hour easily) but I wasn't able to control my emotion and that is what took me off guard. Usually, I can catalogue violence -- it's not real, it's fiction. Those are characters, actors, they aren't really dead. I still know all those things are true but something has changed. I'm not upset at the change, I was upset at my desensitization. It seems that I have become sensitized again and I hope it doesn't leave. 

That Anne-girl

It's supposed to rain today; I will never get used to the summer downpours. I like my summers dry and 104˚ if you please. The torrents have yet to appear, but in preparation for the shower I am reading in bed -- the only proper response to this act of nature. I have been re-reading the Anne series and can't stop. Although, part of me fully believes that if Anne knew I was reading her stories on a Kindle she would say it had "Little scope for the imagination," and also, "What is a Kindle?" As I read through the series I find myself falling in love with Anne and Gilbert all over again. Not only that, but I've found that my Daniel reminds me of Gilbert. And I don't think I am imagining things either. Gilbert patiently waited for Anne to come around, Dan patiently waited for me. Their romance sprung out of friendship, and ours did as well. Dan even throws a quote in conversation when appropriate, though his tend to be less poetry and more Star Trek, which I find adorable. All we need is a walk down Lovers Lane and a view of the Lake of Shining Waters and we'll be set. For now we settle for our little turtle pond and the path around Hugh McRae Park. 

p.s. I think every guy should take some pointers from Gilbert, and that means you, 10-year old boy at the basketball clinic who hit on me today -- Anne Shirley would certainly never stand for that. 

whatcha readin?

Daniel and I were at Barnes & Noble* after church today studying, as per usual, and on my way back from the ladies room I stumbled upon this little section. Now, far be it from me to ever judge what anyone is reading, because I honestly don't care what you're reading I'm just glad that you're reading but, wow, I didn't realize there was a whole genre now. Jumping on that Twilight money train, eh? But seriously there are tons. I'm pretty impressed at the growth of the teen novel industry, it seemed like only the choices I had as a kid were Babysitters Club, Boxcar Children, and Sweet Valley High. Oh, and my moms awesome collection of original Nancy Drew books.

*shortly after I took this picture I was informed that there was no photography allowed and could I please delete the photograph. So, while he stood there I deleted the photo on the screen -- he walked away satisfied and I walked away with the other four photos I had snapped. I am such a rebel.

thoughts on grace

I love church. I hadn't been to our church in Wilmington for about 5 weeks or so and I missed it. I love standing and worshipping with fellow believers. It overcomes me and I feel like part of something huge and yet at times I feel like the only one there. I love to sing and I love being part of a fellowship. On Sunday our pastor spoke on grace. This seems to be a popular discussion at church and with good reason -- grace is an important tenet in Christian doctrine. However, after reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer's The Cost of Discipleship a few years ago, I always get sidetracked in discussions about grace. 

"Cheap grace is the deadly enemy of our church."

 Woah. I had never thought of a "bad form" of grace. Grace is good, right? As I read more I was compelled to think about grace at a cost. Grace was not cheap. We should not debase what Christ did on the cross. Grace was costly. 

"Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will gladly go and sell all that he has... Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ... Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son." 

I've seen those who live life how they please because they know that "God will forgive them." They've been taught the same scripture and heard the same verses and they walked out thinking: "I've got a free pass because God loves me." I don't want to live that way, but I know that I do. I may not say it or think it, but I am imperfect and because of that I fail. I lie, I cheat, I'm jealous -- I am a sinner. But I want to live in costly grace. I want to follow Christ because, after hearing what he did for me, there is no other choice but to follow. I want to treat grace as the precious gift that it is and not take it for granted. 

"Costly grace is the gospel that must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock."

see me read.

I just purchased almost all of my books for this semester -- eighteen! This is going to be an intense semester of reading, analyzing and responding but I am very excited about all of it. Subjects of these books include Vietnam, Korea, whales, ocean, Africa, Europe, storms, Communism, and Mexico. Shortly after I finished my amazon book order (waaay cheaper) I checked my old e-mail and goodreads.com had sent me their list of new book releases for January, oh sweet temptation. As I was browsing through the titles I saw their 2011 Reading Challenge, so, I signed up! Initially I put in a larger number thinking I would include my school books but then I decided to just track pleasure reading (maybe I'll change that later). So my goal is 15 books for this year, nothing crazy, a little over a book a month -- I wanted a goal I could accomplish while tackling a full school schedule. You should join, and then add me as your friend - I would love to see what you are reading! Also, I am in the market for book recommendations again -- shoot some my way!

Atrocities

When the first word I read is "Rape" while opening a Christmas gift I was unsuree as to what kind of gift I was receiving, fortunately I received the gift of enlightenment. The Rape of Nanking is an extraordinary book on the Nanking Massacre. If you are like me you know very little -- or nothing at all -- about the Japanese war crimes leading up to and during WWII. In my small, ignorant world the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and were part of the axis powers during the Second World War and aside from that I knew very little. My ignorance lasted until last year when I heard a Korean speaker talk about the Japanese war crimes against his people and that opened my eyes to some of what I had, for so long, remained in the dark about. I did some minor research shortly after and found out that the Japanese war crimes are considered by some historians to be more horrendous than the Germans. My interest in the topic slowly waned and then my dad gave me this book for Christmas. Iris Chang passionately writes about the atrocities committed against the Chinese in the city and surrounding area of Nanking. The killing, plundering, raping, and terrorizing occurred over six weeks. An estimated 280-350,000 civilians and unarmed soldiers were killed during this 6-week period. Thousands and thousands of women were gang raped and many impaled shortly after their attack. Tales of the atrocities committed made me sick to my stomach. What disturbed me even more was the lack of responsibility Japan has ever taken for the massacre. For political and economic reasons Japan was not held in the same league as Germany. Japan was never forced to apologize and the retributions to the surviving victims was paltry if even distributed (Germany was still paying millions in retribution well into 2007). History was rewritten in Japan -- the deaths of hundreds of thousands became tens of thousands and for a time they claimed the entire story was falsified and exaggerated. While the book is intense and disturbing there are stories of heroism. The stories of three westerners, a German and two Americans, are retold and shed light on the incredibly selfless acts of the few who stayed behind to help the Chinese. This tragedy should not be forgotten. As George Santayana is quoted the book, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

reading for pleasure

It's been at least 4 years since I have really had time to read. I love to read -- I've loved reading for as long as I can remember. My parents tell me that when I was exiled to my room on timeout they would find me not twiddling my thumbs waiting until they released me from my cell, but curled up in my bed turning the pages in my latest book; I've come a long way from my beloved Nancy Drew series. More recently reading has come in the form of textbooks and the occasional novel from an English class. I didn't even know where to start when I went to the bookstore. Luckily, I had been gifted Crime and Punishment as a wedding present from my book worm sister, Julia, and that was as good a start as any. And the books just kept on coming. I've averaged about a book a week in the past 9 that we've been here in Rhode Island. I teased Dan today that maybe I'm getting used to all this free time to read, he scoffed. We both know that I am climbing up the walls, anxious to start work and finish school. But I'm thinking my renewed love for literature is here to stay.

Here's the list (I can't remember the order I read them in):

1. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky -- This classic novel took me a bit to get into but was well worth the time, it's the best classic I've read in my life to date.

2. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess -- The first third was spent deciphering the slang, if you hang in there it's great.

3. Scandal by Kate Brian -- okay, maybe I haven't come that far from Nancy Drew. This one was my guilty pleasure, teen read similar to Gossip Girl.

4. The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs -- I have a previous blog that sums up my feelings about this book, loved it.

5. The Reader by Bernhard Schlink -- I'm a sucker for books and movies based in or around the time of WWII, I read this in a day.

6. Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis -- I purchased this for Dan because he loves sci-fi, but when I ran out of books and didn't feel like buying another one yet I read this one; it was surprisingly interesting.

7. This is Where I Leave You by Jonathon Tropper -- OMG I laughed out loud so may times. He's hilarious but he also has a mouth on him, so, fair warning.

8. Born Standing Up by Steve Martin -- I loved it. I felt nostalgic for a time that I missed, Steve Martin is incredible.

9. Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson & David Oliver Relin -- I'm finishing this book up currently, this man is amazing and he brings life to so much of what I want to do; it's inspirational.

Living Biblically

It's humbling when someone does something better than you at first attempt than you have in your entire life. After finishing Crime and Punishment, a very good but very Russian book, I went to Barnes and Noble to find my next read. Since Dostoevsky's was a very heavy book I decided some humor would be nice; I took home The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs. Mr. Jacobs took on the task of living according to biblical law for a year -- the first 8 months adhering to the Old Testament law and the last 4 months following the New Testament.

He was constantly discussing the difference between taking the bible completely literally or acknowledging metaphoric and symbolic content. He spent 4 weeks before his year started reading the bible cover to cover, notating any rules along the way (quite the feat in and of itself). Then he began his journey. Not a religious man in general, this project took over his entire life. He began praying everyday, eventually 3 times a day. He acknowledged menstruation laws that denied him access to his wife even in any physical capacity. He even grew out his hair to biblical standards.

His year was an incredible one of learning and submitting. As I read I became more and more aware of my lack of commitment. I go to church and try to read my bible, when I remember to I pray, I try to help others, but as I look on my cross-bearing days I feel as though I half-assed it. Of course, I have to acknowledge a litany of factors: Jacobs was being paid to attempt this, his was a year-long journey not a lifelong, etc. I get that. But do I monitor the words that come out of my mouth? Do I only speak truth? Do I give God the time or commitment he deserves? I could keep going. I am humbled.

For all you mercy lovers I know what you're thinking, "You cannot work your way into heaven." And you're right. But I always remember James, "I will show you my faith by what I do." Needless to say, this book got me thinking and hopefully I act on what I've learned. Don't worry I won't be stoning any adulterers or deviant children. But I do think that God deserves more than what I've been giving him. Living out faith religiously always gets a bad rap. I've always thought, though, that there is beauty in the familiar and strength in repetition.

Ate, Prayed, Loved?

I must be the only american female who didn't enjoy the book Eat, Pray, Love. To be fair, I didn't finish it. I read through Italy and India and about 2 pages into Indonesia I gave up. I didn't know this was a "personal growth" story; I thought it was a travel story. Needless to say I was very disappointed in the India portion since I am in love with the place, spent time there, and desperately can't wait to go back. Spending your entire time in an Ashram in India does not seem to me a good picture of what India is.

I went to see the movie for a couple of reasons: (1) because one of the reasons I disliked the book was it just dragged on, I hoped the transition to film would help speed things up, (2) because I was now fully prepared that this was a "personal growth" story, and (3) because I love Julia Roberts. So, I rode my (new, red) bike along the pier to downtown newport and went to the local movie theatre. This movie theatre was converted from an old opera house and the main theatre is amazing -- Dan and I saw inception there and I was itching for a chance to go back. I decided I wouldn't make Dan go see this one (mostly because I want him to see The Kids Are Alright with me and I was scared Eat, Pray, Love might jeopardize my movie-picking abilities in his eyes). Boy, was I glad I didn't drag him along.

To quote a dear friend "Yeah. It was pretty. The food looked awesome. Julia was good...but...meh." My thoughts exactly (one of the reasons that friend is a dear friend). It made me want to go back to Italy for pizza. Right then. I didn't need to finish the movie. I just needed to eat

a whole thin crusted pizza by myself -- yes, i did that a few times while in Italy. But the one scene that really spoke to me? It was a split second long. Julia had just arrived in India, she pulled up to the Ashram and is headed in to meditate with the other followers of this particular guru. However, neither Julia nor the Ashram caught my attention. It was the man who welcomed her and showed her in and ran before her to find her a mat to sit on and a place to sit. You never see that man again, but he almost made me cry. I miss those people. Those people were so eager to help and show and welcome. I also enjoyed the scenes between Julia and the young indian girl. My heart broke, as it has before, as I listened to this girl's dreams and hopes for her future. There were so many young women and girls I met while in India and I wanted nothing more than to give them the chance to do whatever they dreamed of. For some of them that would be marriage, for others learning English, or going to University.

I love India. It's so colorful and exciting and loud and smelly. It's amazing. I just don't think Eat, Pray, Love did it justice, whether in book or film. There's just more to it than that.