Jabberwocky Fans

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.


That's Jabberwocky, of course, from Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There.

The other day, I pulled down all 6 of my Alice books, and picked The Annotated Alice to read from. X said she was tired of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, which we had read quite a bit. So we jumped through the looking glass, straight into Jabberwocky.

Annotated Alice provides the glossary that Carroll made, along with all kinds of notes about the "nonsense" words in the poem. Chortle is now in the dictionary, for example. Have you used that word lately?

Now X is carrying around a photocopy of the poem. It is suddenly and dramatically her favorite. I remember that feeling so well. I had it over Jabberwocky, too. All of Alice really. And then later, Bob Dylan song lyrics, and then later, T.S. Eliot, and then later...

(I may be one of the few people who read a T. S. Eliot poem as part of her wedding vows. No, not Hollow Men, though I did memorize that one. And no, not this husband.)

Anyway, I love X's excitement at literature. I love finding new/old things that we can share. I love stepping out of the mother role for a little while and being collegial admirers of Jabberwocky.

Service

Watch these two videos, OK?








I used these two as a meditation, I guess.

As MLK Day approaches, it is not surprising that I have been thinking about war and peace. For one thing, I think about how the war seems doomed to continue until the inauguration of a new president. I think about Kenyans protesting a stolen election and getting shot by police.

Many spiritual traditions tell us that the primary act of peace—our first contribution—comes from within. Imagine peace; let it begin with me; peace is a path....you get the idea. I think that is powerful. Clearly it is. But I really have a hard time acting on it. One aspect of Christian version is "love your enemy as yourself." Try working that on Dick Cheney—I failed.

But I think I can figure out an act of service.

And both the Dylan song in the video (lyrics here) and this quote from Emerson (here, yes I know, used that one just a bit ago. Maybe 3 times. I am stuck on it. And I can't find the sermon from which it comes. Help me!) remind us—we are serving/worshipping somebody/something. If you think about the last time you wanted something because you saw an ad for it, you'll know what they mean. Better to make a conscious choice.

So, I was searching on YouTube for a good MLK clip. I wanted to embed it in my annual MLK quote email, sent around on the holiday, which is not an official holiday in our office. I was moved by this simple presentation of this portion of a sermon. (By the way: It's a beautiful example of the power of mash-ups. We can use a free video portal and some piece of presentation software to present a powerful message to the world. That makes me hopeful.)


Anybody can serve.
I will serve somebody (or something)—better that I get to choose.

So, I am going to choose, today, an act of service. I'll make it deliberate. And if I do it humbly (meaning I won't be writing in my blog about it), I think it is an act of peace. An act toward peace.

Funny Mommy

The other day, I read some of my old blog posts to X. She said she found out I am really funny on my blog. But, she claimed, with her, I only use my lame jokes.


Sigh.


I have spent the past 4 days trying to get her to admit that I am actually hilarious when I am with her.

Dinner Party Politics

We went to a great dinner party the other night—the night of the Iowa caucus. This blog entry could be about the food alone— Southern fried chicken, greens, mashed potatoes, cornbread and key lime pie. But, it's mostly about politics.

We were seven around the table: M and R, fifty-something academics, and their daughter S, age 21 and a politics major in college. D, X and me, you know us. And W, in her late fifties, is an administrative assistant in a research institute. In case it hasn't come across, D, X and I are white West-coasters. (You knew that, right? I won't even go into how many stereotypes I fulfill.) M, R and S are white, too. M and R grew up in the New York area and are Jewish and Irish, respectively. W is black and grew up in San Francisco--but her Southern roots are such that she led the cooking of this wonderful dinner.

With her interest in politics, S made the key lime pie in advance and then gave us bulletins from the back TV room as the results came in and the chicken fried. We watched the post-caucus speeches of the three top Democratic candidates. And we talked it all over. We are all liberal Democrats—but you probably guessed that, too. Anyway, here's what came out:

Middle-aged white ladies (ack! I hate that, but it is of course true) M and I support Edwards, believing him to be the true liberal candidate who will actually address important problems: corporate greed, environmental emergency, health care. He also presents solutions to these problems that realistically require sacrifice. We like that. We had each started as Hilary supporters, but have recently switched.

The young S is a strong supporter of Obama and has been actively involved in his campaign. We older adults were so busy spouting opinions that I am not sure of S's reasons, but I know she is a careful thinker, so I am sure the list is solid.

W believes Clinton should be the next president. In particular, she does not think Obama is prepared for the job. The two-for-one argument is strong for her. She would be relieved to have Bill back, at least close to power. While Obama may be African-American, Bill is the one who, in her view, has the interests of "my people" (as she says to make us giggle nervously) at heart.

The men, D and R, want any of the Democrats who can win. They believe any could do a good enough job, and were particularly focused on which Republican would be the weakest opposition.

X came out in favor of Edwards. Maybe some of mama's influence, but her own strong concern is the environment. She did note that Edwards's speech sounded like he could be an Obama supporter, and S pointed out that they do share many stances.

There you have it—just like in the newspapers and opinion polls. We are all old friends who don't get together that often, and talking politics (as well as the sex appeal of certain candidates) while passing the cornbread was a delightful way to re-connect. We left late, way past X's bedtime, both D and I believing the conversation was more important to her education than anything she could sleep through at school in the morning.

Blog Resolutions, 2008

Resolution 1:
For 2008, make closer to 107 entries (as in 2006) than 66 entries (as in 2007). Blogging really is personally useful. Maybe it's just like "journaling," as they call it these days, but I like having an audience.

Resolution 2:
No more references to My Back Pages—unless I change the blog to that title. Switching to Like A Rolling Stone is not a good idea, either.

Resolution 3:
Do unto others... Make more comments on other people's blogs.

Joining

I haven't been a joiner for a long time. Not since I joined the First Baptist Church, at age 9 or so, come to think of it--and then departed a few years later as a flaming non-Christian, rebellious, feminist teenager. I joined the Peace Corps, I guess, but really that was taking a job. I belong to Parents for Public Schools and was a PTA board member, but I have always held myself at a distance from those organizations.

A few months ago, I went ahead and joined the SF Unitarian Universalist Society, almost to my surprise.

Our family has been attending the Unitarian Church for a few years now. My sense of spirituality led me around to a couple of different churches, but I really never strayed too far from the Unitarians. It's something I've blogged about, several times. Still, I'd kept up a list of good reasons not to join:

First off, I simply didn't want to make a commitment. Between my day job and my volunteer work, I didn't see how I could join one more committee. Does making a commitment always entail joining a committee? In my world, often. Even marriage sometimes feels like being on a committee of two.

Second, I have, over the past two years, returned to calling myself a Christian. I was an anti-Christian for many years, after my un-joining the Baptists: "Spiritual but not religious." Or just not interested. Or even just plain hostile. As I returned to a Christian identity, I really wasn't sure that San Francisco's Unitarian congregation was the right fit. Though Unitarianism is supposed to include people from a wide variety of faiths, and you will certainly hear about Buddhist, Jewish and Pagan UUs, I had never really heard anyone there say they were Christian. And people seemed uncomfortable with Jesus, frankly.

Even more, I wasn't sure what being a Unitarian meant--it seemed more readily described as a list of "nots."

But the current minister, Greg Stewart, has presented himself as a theist and a Christian. He's labeled Unitarianism as a religion, with a set of beliefs and values worth articulating. He even gives sermons about Jesus sometimes. This helped me feel like I belonged.

So last Sunday, I found myself on the chancel, with 20 or so other new members who'd signed up over the past few months, being welcomed to the congregation. They handed me a rose, read some words about me, and the congregation pledged something to all of us. Then we sat down again. I had this light feeling: I did it! I joined!

I want to add a bit about being a Christian.

Here's an oft-cited Emerson quote:
“A person will worship something, have no doubt about that. We may think our tribute is paid in secret in the dark recesses of our hearts, but it will out. That which dominates our imaginations and our thoughts will determine our lives, and our character. Therefore, it behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping we are becoming.”

I can't say that the radical core of Jesus' message--unconditional love as a powerful force of change in the world--is truly dominating my thoughts. But I work on making it a potent influence. And that does affect how I behave. That is pretty much what being a Christian is to me. Though it is also about embracing my cultural heritage as a form for bringing ritual into our family life. More detail another time.