Friday, February 8, 2013

Coping With Death

Life ends with death. A cruel thought. But unless that thought can be sufficiently internalized, processed, and de-stigmatized, life itself can become very unbearable indeed. Enter religion.

The Mormon faith (along with many others) teaches of one form of immortality. The kicker is that if you are good here in this life, you have the chance to be with your loved ones for eternity. Now isn't that a nice idea? Very soothing. *If* you are good enough to merit it.... So don't you worry about your father, mother, son, or daughter, you will see them again. Don't cry, they have returned to live with God. Don't mourn, they are happy now and you should be too. Well, that all assumes that *they* lived righteously enough to merit living with God again. Live righteously and you will live eternally ever after with them.

I never really mourned for my grandfather's death. At the age of 14, I had a unshakable knowledge that all would be well. Sure, I missed him, but I don't even remember shedding a single tear. Not when I first heard the news, not at the funeral, not when I played Taps at the cemetery. He was my mentor in the wood shop and working there was never the same without him. But he lived on in my memory. Now that I no longer believe that I will ever see him again, I feel like my religion took from me the one thing that could help me more than anything else now: my chance to grieve.

I probably would not really be thinking about death too much (being in the prime of my life and all) but a very close relative (who we will call "J") died a few months back. Well, he should have been more close, but to be honest, my relationship with him was more "on paper only" than what one might call a real relationship. I would see him about once a year and that was just because he liked my kids. Yet, since his death, in the intervening weeks, I have, on more than one occasion, shed a tear for him. It's not so much that I miss him, but that it was a shame that he is dead and that the last few years were so hard for him.

To be honest, I can see a lot of his characteristics in myself. This would likely be a lot more scary if I wasn't married to such a wonderful wife, who helps mitigate a lot of my anti-social behaviors. But when I look back at his life and see how full of pain it was (and how different it could have been,) it is like a little stab in the heart. I wonder if this is my weird way of grieving for him.

The kids were pretty shocked when they heard of J's death. But then, given their ages, this is the first death of anyone they were remotely close to that they can remember. Sure, they knew about the death of two great grandmas, but they really hardly knew either one of them at all.

Given that death is such a huge part of life (you know, the part that ENDS life) we really ought to have a better relationship with it.  Many people are afraid of the 'unknown' and face death with a lot of fear and trepidation. Our species goes to great lengths to avoid death; it invented religion as one escape. Some religions offer a way to 'cheat death' via resurrection and 'living forever.' Is this really cheating death or is it merely cheating life because you are not living for today?

Death is inevitable and something that we should all be comfortable with at the least. We don't have to necessarily WELCOME death, but in some cases, it is a blessed release from the pains of this world. Death, according to me, is quite completely the opposite of birth. We had no existence before birth except maybe that twinkle in your Mama's eye; we will have no existence after death except for the memories that live on in the minds of others. But the end itself is not to be feared.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

A Good Cup o' Joe

Coffee is some weird stuff.  It is the seed of a fruit that grows on a bush only in low latitudes, but sometimes at high elevations. We pick the berries, ferment them, gather the seeds, dry them and then ship them all over the world. Then we roast them until they are nearly black, grind them up and extract their very essence with near-boiling water. Then we drink it and say, "Mmmmm."

But it's so bitter, sour, and harsh all by itself. So we add milk, or cream, and lots of sugar, maybe cinnamon or chocolate so we can get it down. All for what? The caffeine? We can get caffeine from other sources that aren't so unpalatable. Like Coke.

I recently read an article about how too much of the world destroys coffee by roasting it too dark. We burn it to a bitter crisp, when we should really be savoring its truer flavors. The darkest standard roast is the Spanish roast. It is nearly just charcoal. Not even shiny from oils; they all burned away. I won't touch that roast, I promise. Next in line of the darkest roasts is the Italian roast. They invented espresso. Shouldn't they know how to roast coffee? Then comes the French roast. You can't tell me that the French don't know good food and drink when they see it. Four notches down from there is American roast. This is a medium-light roast. Probably more what the coffee snobs in the article were looking for. I would like to try some but it is hard to find because all the coffee shops do French or Italian roasts. I still don't have a clue where I stand on the blackness of my beans, but I do have strong opinions about good flavor. I won't say it's good until I have tried it.

But I just made a pretty good cup of Joe. It is a "Dark roasted Central American and Indonesian coffees" that I purchased. I ground it to fine with my new "Porlex JP-30" handheld coffee grinder. I added 25g of this fine-ground coffee to 2oz cold water and let that sit overnight. Then I filtered it with my Aeropress, resulting in about 1.5oz of a rich coffee extract. I topped off the mug with cold soy milk and had an iced espresso. It was delicious. Low sugar, low fat, and vegan!

I will certainly try that one again. As well as continue to sample different coffees and such. But at one cup a day, it takes a while to go through a pound of coffee beans.

The Book of Mormon Musical

A couple of weekends ago, I was able to attend a performance of The Book of Mormon musical. In two words, it was "f@ckin' awesome." That is not language that I normally use, given it is pretty offensive to many people, but Trey Parker and Matt Stone have no trouble using it when creating their shows. The show had some very offensive material in it, but it seemed to be more an integral part of the show rather than its actual content; like the makeup or costumes for the characters.

Of course, parody isn't reality, and it's the very distortion that makes it appealing and often funny. The danger is not when people laugh but when they take it seriously—if they leave a theater believing that Mormons really do live in some kind of a surreal world of self-deception and illusion

--Michael Otterson, Head of Public Affairs for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

I don't think that anyone who actually watched the show thinks that Mormons are that crazy, living in a world of self-deception and illusion, but the truth is that many people (not just Mormons) really do live in that world. What I take from his quote is not that the danger is believing that Mormons live that way, but really, actually living that way. Living in reality (whatever that is) rather than self-deception is the only healthy way to live. I believe that humor is also an important part of a healthy life. Being a post-Mormon, part of me really wanted to see the Mormons getting poked in the eye. And they did, but it wasn't so bad as it could have been. I actually think that Trey and Matt took an almost sympathetic and kind sort of poking at the Mormons (and really at religion on a larger scale).  As my wife said, "It was very crude, but also kind of sweet."

I watched the South Park: About Mormons episode way back when I was still a true-believing Mormon. I found it amusing to hear a complete outsider's view of my beliefs and had to laugh a little. I didn't find it offensive and it did not lead me to lose my testimony. I would have to say that same about The Book of Mormon. It was funny to see a slightly twisted view of what Mormons really do believe. It was a great satire. As such, it gave a lot of food for thought. Some that the LDS church could use to feed its fleeing masses.

I have maggots in my scrotum!

--Village Doctor, The Book of Mormon Musical

The points chosen for abuse were exceptionally well chosen.
  1. How can a first-world raised, nineteen (and now eighteen) year-old young man even start to comprehend the problems facing an impoverished, third-world village?
    • Unless you have health, food, shelter, and safety, spiritual things don't matter. How can the Book of Mormon (or any book of scripture) cure your maggots, feed your family, keep you safe, etc.?
  2. Is not acting on homosexual tendencies really just lying to yourself? Because lying is one of the big Ten.
    • The song "Turn It Off" was hilarious.
  3. Sal Tlake a-City does not really exist; it's a metaphor!
    • All religion should be taken metaphorically. Otherwise you get terrible stuff happening.
  4. Some take a lot more time to grow up.
    • Arnold learned quickly that it didn't really matter what he was teaching the people; the important thing was to help them—in ways that really mattered at their level.
    • Keven, on the other hand took a much longer time to really love the people and see that the Book of Mormon really could not help them (or at least until he could cure AIDS, secure the food supply, guarantee safety, and remove all scrotum maggots.)
  5. Mormon Hell was a funny place.
    • It's true that Mormon's have a different view on Heaven and Hell than much of the rest of Christianity, but abandoning your mission companion does not put you in the same place as Hitler or Genghis Khan.
    • Mormon Hell really is anywhere you are, knowing that you could be somewhere better. So the second level of the Celestial Kingdom of Heaven would be Hell, knowing that you weren't in the first level. But to someone in the Terrestrial or Telestial worlds, both are evidence that where you are is Hell.
  6. How is your story really better than mine?
    • We all live believing some stories. It is likely that none of the stories in anyone's head are true. So why is the Book of Arnold any less precious than the Book of Mormon?
  7. "Hasa diga eebowai" is not a bad way to live, but a better way might be to embrace a way of life that does not depend on God in the first place.