John Lennon & Barack Obama

On Sunday Irene and I were discussing something or another and the life and work of John Lennon came up. I remembered that Lennon was shot in 1980, but the rest of the details of his death eluded me. For the record, Lennon was shot on December 8 by Mark David Chapman. For the conspiracy buffs, besides being known by all three of his names, Chapman was carrying a paperback copy of The Catcher and the Rye.

More seriously, thinking of Lennon's assassination brought to mind the cavalcade of high profile deaths that occurred in the 1960's:

John F. Kennedy was shot by Lee Harvey Oswald on November 22, 1963.
Martin Luther King Jr. was shot by James Earl Ray on April 4, 1968.
Robert F. Kennedy was shot by Sirhan Sirhan on June 6, 1968.

Not to mention lesser known political figures:

Malcolm X was shot and killed by a number of members of the Nation of Islam on February 21, 1965.
Fred Hampton and Mark Clark, members of the Black Panther Party, were killed on December 4, 1969, apparently by FBI Officers.

I've often wondered what effect a series of killing like this has on the national consciousness. There must be a slew of books and dissertations on the subject; suffice it to say, if you couple the death of many young, loved political figures (albeit of significantly different views) with the disillusionment that followed Watergate and the end of the Vietnam War, disgust and/or apathy would be obvious possible effects.

And now, we have a young political candidate who has people more excited--especially young people--then they have been for some time, if at all. Has the nation sufficiently recovered from the psychological scars it received from the deaths above to believe in another young, promising politician? Is it simply that a new generation has come of age who doesn't suffer from the memories of turbulent 60's? Will Barack end up as another politician who initially garnered excitement and support but ultimately failed to transform that support into electoral success and so was forgotten by history?

Big questions, but this post is too long already.

Post-Holiday Rundown

Well that was a busy couple of days. After I left Maryland on Friday I went to work for six or seven hours, went home, and continued studying for the GRE. I got a brisk six hour nap, got up, and started studying for the GRE again. Then, from 1:30pm to around 5pm I faced the GRE monster. More on that below. Afterwards, Irene and I saw a movie called The Savages--which, incidentally, I highly recommend--and then called it a night. Sunday was all errands, including going back to the office to pick up all my stuff, Monday was a morning in the office and then a trip to New York for New Year's Eve, Tuesday was recovering from New Years Eve, Wednesday was a horrid back on the Fung Wah, and today is ... today.

How lucky I am to live such an eventful life. I could write a post on any of the sentences above. My guess would be that you're most interested in is the GRE.

My feel about the GRE is that I did well enough, and could have done better with more than two or three days preparation, but not well enough to tell you my actual score (which you find out immediately after the test). Suffice it to say, I did better on the verbal section than the math section, and perhaps best of all on the essay section. The test itself was surprisingly brief and I thought the way the time was apportioned was odd. The test started with essays of 45 minutes and 30 minutes and then moves on to either a 30 minute verbal section and a 38 minute math section with one experimental section thrown into the mix. And that's it. It might be less surprising if the essays weren't generally understood to be worthless. So why spend half the test on them? Why not. This is a standardized test: logical consistency is for the questions, not for the layout.

The trip back was eight hours and included a broken down bus. That's what Irene and I get for taking the Fung Wah. I'd be more bummed, but the Iowa Caucuses are turning out to be pretty interesting.

Holidays

Hey, I wanted to say it was great being home for the holidays and that I really enjoyed having a bit of time off. As a parting gift, I wanted to share a song on iTunes that I found I really enjoy and that I think you might like as well.

It's called "Numb," by Ben Lee. Look it up. Download it. If you don't like it, I'll give you the dollar back.

Last Calls...

So, Irene left for Florida last night and my roommate Steve went back to England on Wednesday, which has left me all alone in Boston with nothing to do but find the perfect Christmas present for each and everyone of you (unless I already got you something ... which reminds me: Don't open packages sent to 28 Greenvale to my attention!)

Deconstructing Narcissus

I've always been a big proponent of the morals and lessons that can be drawn from our society's myths and legends. It's one reason that, despite my uncertain relationship with the church, I've always been an advocate of Sunday School. That and general cultural literacy.

One non-Christian story that really struck me growing up was the tale of Narcissus. So in love with his own image that he couldn't pull himself away from a remarkably calm pond to eat or drink. If that doesn't promise an unfortunate and ironic end to the self-involved, it's hard to see what could.

But then, does it really? What if we exchanged Narcissus staring at his own image in a pond with something else? Whatever strikes you as equivalent. For example: What if he and his dearly beloved starved to death staring at each other across a table full of food? Are the two comparable? Obviously there's a moral to my hypothetical story, but it doesn't involve narcissism. Maybe it's closer to "don't let fanciful longings and emotional attachment separate you completely from the necessities of life?" Or something like that?

So, my question is, does the death of Narcissus really tell us all that much about narcissism? Or is it more some odd, psychological problem that afflicts those who lounge around small bodies of water? If so, does it matter if Narcissus' death wasn't or wouldn't be unique to someone who was narcissistic?

Big thoughts about the world, right? Love, and I'll see you soon.

Thanks!

Thanks for the glasses (and thanks, from Irene, for the warm, warm socks and tasty, tasty coffee). We've made out quite well from Thanksgiving, so I can only imagine how we'll walk away from Christmas.

Though I've learned that it's hard putting a place together. There are a lot of moving parts.

I do take comfort from the success of my peers, however. As a matter of fact, happily settled Mike Dickensheet has a 30th birthday party this weekend, and there's a notable list of invitees. From the neighborhood, the event is being hosted by his wife, Bridget Geiman, and Sarah Brumfitt is attending. Max will be there and Jesse Larson's brother Tim (Jesse having returned to Holland). Matt Lackowski was invited (the tall boy who was the VP's son). Dave Webster will be there with his wife, as will Ryan Surber. The gang's all here.

Well, not all there of course. Irene and I will be in Boston--although not without our social events to attend. Patrick, from my soccer team, is hosting his holiday party this weekend.

Still, Mike's 30th would have been fun. I do take comfort from the fact the Westminster kids are still hanging out together, though. No 30th birthday party. No graduation ceremony for Chris Gavin. It's difficult to be far removed.

Chicago Photos

I finally put up the photos from the Chicago trip. There are a couple of unrelated running ones of Irene and I at the end. Pay them no mind. Here's my favorite:



What a cutie.

Also, note the addition down and right of the Shelfari Bookshelf. Remember when I had you sign up for that? I'm only adding books as I finish them, so you can be on top of what I'm reading. Cool.

More later. Oh, and tough news about that Illini loss, huh Dad?