Ruminations (Joy’s blog)

Today I sent the following email to my math professor.  The story is the true account of my frustrating experience so far in his class.  On behalf of  justice, and the rights of paying community college students everywhere! 

Once upon a time,

There was a student taking Math 150 at community college.  She already had her degree, but her math skills needed improvement and so she took this course.  She had paid good money for this course.  Granted, it cost much less than university courses but it was an investment of her hard-earned money, and her valuable time, both of which she could have spent elsewhere.

To her surprise, the professor of the math course did not seem to take her investments seriously.  He habitually arrived late and wasted class time in idle conversation, apparently having no inclination to teach math.  One day the student had enough.  After a full 30 minutes of sitting in class having her time wasted, she got up and left.  She felt disrespected and entirely frustrated.  The professor:  well, he got paid that day anyway, so his time wasn’t wasted either way.

I don’t know how this story ends.   I would like to think that during Spring Break, the professor decided to raise his level of professionalism.  Would like to think that by the end of the semester both professor and student had grown in mutual respect for each other.

Regards,

Joy England

My professor probably just laughed after reading it.  I can picture his smug detached smirk . . . but at least he will have to look me in the eye now knowing what I really think.

This dream I had 2 nights ago is so wacky, I have to post it. 

I dreamed (or is it dreamt?) that my cat was being cooked in the microwave.  In a panic, I shut it off and took him out.  He was steaming, but alive and well.

This gave me an idea to search the web for forums where people could post their funny dreams.  Wouldn’t that be amusing?  My search did not come up with anything, most dream forums are related to interpretation, or people exploring dreams seriously.  Maybe I should create a funny dream forum.  With all my free time…. uh-huh.

Brooke Fraser-The Sound of Silence

This song was originally recorded by Simon and Garfunkel.  I had heard it before but never paid attention to the lyrics til now.  Such a poetic and thought-provoking song.  I am challenged by its message, to be more open with others and share my true thoughts.  Because we are afraid what others will think about our thoughts.  So we talk without speaking and hear without listening.  And silence like a cancer grows . . .

Hello, darkness my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dares
Disturb the sound of silence.

“Fools,” said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.”
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed in the wells of silence.

 And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets
are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.”
And whispered in the sound of silence.

I just discovered a new offshoot of YouTube, YouTube Screening Room.  It is a venue for independent short films.  Four new films are featured every two weeks.  I especially recommend a current feature entitled Are You the Favorite Person of Anyone?   It’s only a few minutes long.

After reflection I don’t know that I’m the favorite of anyone, but I’m “very certain” that I’m in a couple people’s top ten.  That is, I think so.  This week anyway. . .

This photo-cultural opportunity was too good to pass up. A family from Japan recently stayed in our house as guests. In matters of etiquette and communication they set new standards for polite ^_^

Recently I went to a national park out in the Mojave desert.  It is famous for the Joshua trees that grow there.  I have been wanting to visit this desert for a long time, as I’ve been to forests, mountains, lakes and oceans but never a desert.  It was quite beautiful.  Wildflowers everywhere, in many colors and varieties I was unfamiliar with.  The topography was fascinating, especially the rock formations.  Yucca plants and creosote bushes dotted the landscape.  A lizard of turquoise blue color crossed my path.  I heard and saw a colorful goldfinch.  The only thing I didn’t see were Joshua trees, apparently they only grow in the north side of the park and we didn’t have time to drive there.   Overall I experienced the desert as enchanting and peaceful. People commonly refer to spiritually dry seasons of life as “deserts.”  Deserts can be barren and inhospitable for those who journey through them.  I have felt this way spiritually at times.  But visiting Joshua Tree has given me new insights.  You wouldn’t know there’s unique life in a desert unless you stopped to look and listen.  And when the rain finally comes, exquisite beauty emerges and transforms the barren landscape into a colorful tapestry.  The next time I’m walking through the barren places of soul and spirit, I’ll try to encourage myself with thoughts of the beauty that awaits.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the (Banana) Republic for which it stands . . .

For my last birthday someone gave me a gift card to Banana Republic.  I never shop there but seeing as I had a gift card I decided to make a trip to the mall.  Inside the store, the whole ambiance radiated expensive.  And fashionable, as in “if you dress yourself in Banana Republic you will be smart and sexy.”  Even the sales people were good looking and smartly dressed.  Some sweaters on a table caught my eye.  Simple, solid colors in autumn flavors.  I touched the fabric and looked at the stitching.  Nice quality.  I looked at the price tag.  $58.  On sale for 42.99.  This is why I don’t shop at Banana Republic, I thought to myself.  It is hard for me to spend more than $25 for a sweater, which is why I shop at discount stores.  I imagined all the impoverished families in Africa who could feed themselves for several weeks for 42.99.  I thought how ridiculous is American culture, to throw money at brand names and assign such worth to them.   I started to walk away from the table but suddenly noticed a particular stack of sweaters.  They were a most unusual shade of blue.  In fact, they were the exact grayish-greenish-blue shade of my eyes.  I have never found a piece of clothing that perfectly matched my eyes.  Maybe I should try this sweater on in the fitting room.  On the way, I passed a different table of sweaters that were on sale for $26 each.  I kept them in mind as I walked into the fitting room.  The blue sweater was indeed flattering as I admired myself in the mirror.  It made the color of my eyes amazingly vivid.  For only 42.99 I could look and feel stunning.  Or I could make my gift card go farther and buy two of the $26 sweaters instead of using it all on the blue one.  That would be the thrifty and practical choice.  I walked out of the store carrying a sexy Banana Republic bag containing one grayish-greenish-blue sweater.  I hope I don’t spill spaghetti sauce on it.

Today I woke up and was surprised by rain–a steady drizzle out of a dark gray sky.  The weather forecast says it is supposed to be like this all day.  Rain where I live is a novelty.   It seems like we’ve only had a half dozen rainy days all year.  I have associative emotions that go with rainy days.  They are happy ones, provided it has not been raining for more than 3 days straight.  Any longer than that I get depressed.  So here are my cozy cheerful thoughts inspired by today’s rain.  I want to curl up with a mug of hot chocolate laced with coffee and read a book.  Books are great, life would not be the same without them.  I want to clean my room and organize my closet–rainy days make chores more romantic.  I want to turn on some Christmas music and think of snow on the mountains.  I want to play a video game–I rarely feel guilty playing video games when it’s raining.  I mean, what else is there to do–wash my car?  In fact, I deserve to reward myself after cleaning my room.  So here’s to rainy days–and all the cheer they inspire.
 

This series of photos I took last 4th of July when  I went to a fireworks show at the Rose Bowl.  I used my little Canon PowerShot A430, which has a special “fireworks” setting I wanted to try out.  When I uploaded the photos later, I was stunned to see what the camera’s eye captured.  My favorite is the third one from the end.

 (clic photos to view)

I said there were two approaches. The second approach is that in the Beginning God expertly designed human reproduction and genetics to be a self-contained, dynamic process that governs itself. It requires no ongoing management on God’s part. He simply set the whole thing in motion, and you and I are the result of parental choices and natural processes. The mantra of this camp says, “Don’t blame God for human overpopulation.” 

If the second approach is correct, then God did not predetermine every little detail that makes me Me.  He leaves a lot of things up to chance, such as my bone structure and fingerprints.   He also leaves a lot up to natural outcome of human choices.   The Chernobyl accident was essentially caused by human carelessness and arrogance.  Thus Sasha’s deformities were caused by human sin, not God’s handiwork.    This approach resolves the major difficulty of the first one.  However it leaves some unanswered questions.  Arguably the biggest one is, how did my individual soul come to be?  Is there some inherent power in a sperm and egg that produces an immaterial soul?

Maybe the answer is somewhere in between these two approaches.  I believe there is something sacred about the creation of human beings, that we are more than just products of DNA.   You cannot clone a human soul.  This is a question that may not find an answer this side of heaven.   I’m ok with mystery.   There’s too much pressure in thinking that because I’ve read the Bible I should have all the answers.

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