Caught in The Matrix

In this scene from the film, Morpheus explains to Neo that people inside The Matrix are a part of the system which is "our enemy".

"...Most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it..."

Book of Remembrance

In the First Presidency Message this month, President Eyring reminds us all to recognize, remember, and give thanks to the Lord for all His the bounteous blessings.  Eyring quotes from President Kimball,

Please follow the counsel you have been given in the past and maintain your personal journals. Those who keep a book of remembrance are more likely to keep the Lord in remembrance in their daily lives. Journals are a way of counting our blessings and of leaving an inventory of these blessings for our posterity.  (Spencer W. Kimball, "Listen to the Prophets")

This blog fulfils two purposes for me.  It serves as my personal editorial page, and as my personal Book of Remembrance.

Though I don't always express it in obvious ways, I am ever grateful for Heavenly Father's providence.

In the Book of Mormon, Alma testifies,

...All things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator.  (Alma 30:44)

In the Doctrine and Covenants, we have further prosaic testimony about the nature of God and His creations,

  He comprehendeth all things, and all things are before him, and all things are round about him; and he is above all things, and in all things, and is through all things, and is round about all things; and all things are by him, and of him, even God, forever and ever.

  And again, verily I say unto you, he hath given a law unto all things, by which they move in their times and their seasons;

  And their courses are fixed, even the courses of the heavens and the earth, which comprehend the earth and all the planets.

And they give light to each other in their times and in their seasons, in their minutes, in their hours, in their days, in their weeks, in their months, in their years—all these are one year with God, but not with man.

  The earth rolls upon her wings, and the sun giveth his light by day, and the moon giveth her light by night, and the stars also give their light, as they roll upon their wings in their glory, in the midst of the power of God.

  Unto what shall I liken these kingdoms, that ye may understand?

  Behold, all these are kingdoms, and any man who hath seen any or the least of these hath seen God moving in his majesty and power.  (Doctrine and Covenants 88-41-47)

The banner of this blog, a photograph of Mount Timpanogos, represents my reverence and gratitude for Heavenly Father's magnificent creations.  He has blessed us beyond our ability to receive it.

I borrow a beautiful photo of a Columbine in blossom, from my long-time Internet friend Dave Kennison.

 Another beautiful glade of flowers on the Wasatch Plateau, photographed by my sister Beth.

The very earth upon which we stand, the air we breathe, the beauty and freedom of the hills, the trees and flowers, even the rocks and flowing waters.  All of it testifies of the great love that our Heavenly Father blesses us with.

For all these blessings, and many more, my heart overflows with gratitude.  My life has been filled with many good things, and I am joyful and thankful.  

And inasmuch as ye do these things with thanksgiving, with cheerful hearts and countenances, not with much laughter, for this is sin, but with a glad heart and a cheerful countenance—

Verily I say, that inasmuch as ye do this, the fulness of the earth is yours, the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air, and that which climbeth upon the trees and walketh upon the earth;

Yea, and the herb, and the good things which come of the earth, whether for food or for raiment, or for houses, or for barns, or for orchards, or for gardens, or for vineyards;

Yea, all things which come of the earth, in the season thereof, are made for the benefit and the use of man, both to please the eye and to gladden the heart;

Yea, for food and for raiment, for taste and for smell, to strengthen the body and to enliven the soul.

And it pleaseth God that he hath given all these things unto man; for unto this end were they made to be used, with judgment, not to excess, neither by extortion.

And in nothing doth man offend God, or against none is his wrath kindled, save those who confess not his hand in all things, and obey not his commandments. (Doctrine and Covenants 59:15-21)

Adventures with Windoze: A continuing saga

I am engaged in a continuing battle over personal computer autonomy and independence.

Last week I accidentally unplugged my computer system.  It happens to be running Ubuntu, so I don't really have to reboot all that often, at least compared to Windoze which assumes it's just fine to insist on rebooting whenever it pleases.  I generally use the "suspend" feature most nights when I know I'm not going to be using the system.  The computer then neatly shuts down everything like disk drives and fans.  But it saves a copy of whatever I had been doing, so when I touch the keyboard again, it comes back to life, automagically restoring everything just like it was.

Anyway, the computer doesn't deal all that well with lost power.  It shuts down in a few microseconds, but not quite graceful enough to restore the lost session when the power comes back.

So last week I had started up Microsoft Windoze in a VirtualBox window.  It wanted to download some Windoze upgrades, and I usually tell it okay, go right ahead, I'll just keep doing my Ubuntu thing while Windoze pretends it can monopolize everything with a stern "Do not dare shut down the computer while I'm working!"  I didn't pay much attention to what Windoze was doing.

Turns out, something included in the upgrade package had a little surprise for me - it just decided to erase the Master Boot Record from my primary disk drive.

I didn't discover this for a while, because I don't reboot all that often.  But when my system tried to find the Grub 2 boot loader in the MBR next time, there was only the sound of crickets chirping.  I waited for the system to start the boot loader.  And nothing STILL happened.

Well, I put in my Ubuntu LiveCD to boot up and try to see what was going wrong.  Lo and behold I discovered the now empty MBR.

I should not have been surprised.  I know perfectly well that Windoze always behaves like it should modify any disk contents whenever it pleases.  It doesn't play nice with anybody else.  I have no idea why Windoze thought it was a good idea to wipe out my boot loader.  But it apparently did, without asking permission, in the blink of an eye.

Turns out there is a perfectly wonderful little stand-alone utility at Source Forge called "Boot Repair" that fixes this right up.  I downloaded a copy and was back online in a few minutes.  Just keeping this little program handy for the next time...

Note that Microsoft is worried about their market.  PC sales are lagging behind more high-tech user gear now, things like tablets and smart phones are the biggest sellers today.  Apparently Google Android is the most popular operating environment, with Apple's IOS right behind.  Windoze is now just an also-ran.  I am not at all sad to see the Microsoft market domination and fortunes waning.

Google Sabotage

Some enemy saboteur is inserting commercial advertising into my blog posts.   I suspect Google is behind this.  Not going to post anything else until I get to the bottom of this, and get it cleared out.

This is a very hostile action.  It may even be prohibited by law.

This means war...

Okay, settle down.  The problem appears to be some kind of add-on leach that was intercepting my browser messages and inserting the advertisments into the browser stream.  Seems to have been hidden in some add-on package that I downloaded as an extension to Firefox.  Never seen anything like that before.  Next time, I'll be more careful...

Doubts

While I suppose some of us will always be driven to delve deeper into such matters, I do not agree with those accusing the Church of presenting a “sanitized” revision of history.   It has become popular and fashionable to put on a public face of intellectual scepticism and doubting.  I think some of us who fall into this category may have unwittingly postured ourselves into the “great and spacious building” crowd. In the most recent General Conference, Elder Holland admonished,

I am not asking you to pretend to faith you do not have. I am asking you to be true to the faith you do have. Sometimes we act as if an honest declaration of doubt is a higher manifestation of moral courage than is an honest declaration of faith. It is not!  (Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, "Lord, I Believe")

Everyone has doubts. This is not a trivial consideration by any means. But Elder Holland's counsel on how to address these issues is wise.

Please don’t hyperventilate if from time to time issues arise that need to be examined, understood, and resolved. They do and they will. In this Church, what we know will always trump what we do not know. And remember, in this world, everyone is to walk by faith.  (Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, "Lord, I Believe")

We should understand that the mission of the Church is to teach the Gospel. To digress from the Gospel message in order to present and explain every historical deviance from the Lord's direction would be counterproductive and distracting. We stipulate the fact that men are imperfect, and tend to err. Our presentation of Church history frequently acknowledges this, and should suffice for the instruction of the general body of the Church. There is no good reason to spend our Sacrament Meetings or Sunday School or Relief Society or Priesthood Meetings detailing every specific abberation.

Today more than ever before, to any thinking person it must be obvious that not all information is equally valid or valuable. It has been observed many times that not all truths are of equal importance or priority. What we are seeking is the greater light that emanates from the heavens.

That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day. (Doctrine and Covenants 50:24)

Cultivating doubts and entertaining critical examination are fine academic pursuits. But as members of God's Kingdom, we are called to pursue higher goals.

And now, behold, I give unto you a commandment, that when ye are assembled together ye shall instruct and edify each other, that ye may know how to act and direct my church, how to act upon the points of my law and commandments, which I have given. (Doctrine and Covenants 43:8)

And I give unto you a commandment that you shall teach one another the doctrine of the kingdom.

Teach ye diligently and my grace shall attend you, that you may be instructed more perfectly in theory, in principle, in doctrine, in the law of the gospel, in all things that pertain unto the kingdom of God, that are expedient for you to understand...  (Doctrine and Covenants 88: 77-78)

Requiem

Winter Quarters

Dig the grave and let me lie.

Glad did I live and gladly die

And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:

Here he lies where he longed to be;

Home is the sailor, home from the sea,

And the hunter home from the hill.

(Robert Louis Stevenson)

Up Cheering

Cobabe Kids 1955

 Time to dry your tears,

No one remembers your pain.

Laughing is better.

Everybody Dies...

I suppose I should approach this from a sort of philosophical perspective...

From the Kung Fu TV Series Pilot (1972), we watch the vignette,

Master Kan: Quickly as you can, snatch the pebble from my hand.
[Young Caine tries to do so and fails]
Master Kan: When you can take the pebble from my hand, it will be time for you to leave.

....

Master Po: Close your eyes. What do you hear?
Young Caine: I hear the water, I hear the birds.
Po: Do you hear your own heartbeat?
Caine: No.
Po: Do you hear the grasshopper which is at your feet?
Caine: Old man, how is it that you hear these things?
Po: Young man, how is it that you do not?

In a similar fashion, Jesus instructed the disciples that for those with "ears to hear", there would be signs of what was to come, as clear as the advent of leaves on the fig,

So likewise ye, when ye shall see all these things, know that it is near, even at the doors. (Matt. 24:32–33.)

All the signs would seem to indicate my time to leave.

I went into the Utah Valley Regional Medical Center on Thursday, for coronary angiography.  The results were not good news.  Lots of clear evidence of advanced atherosclerosis.  The cardiologist said many of my coronary arteries are obstructed, and some are fully blocked.  This less than two years since my major bypass surgery.

Perhaps significantly, the doctor did not bother to explain the prognosis, but only to explain that he has no further remedial measures to offer, he sees no reason to try any further medical intervention.  "Dammit Jim, I'm a Doctor, Not A Miracle Worker!"  Nature taking its course.

Not that this was any kind of a surprise to me.  I've heard this before, under similar circumstances.  I've been expecting such a verdict since 2008, with several near-death experiences.

Close family members have died recently.  My brother Tom in Sept 2001, my father in April 2011, and my sister Mary in May 2013.

The cardiologist seemed to suggest that I sorta deserve to have arterial disease because I've chosen to be such a fat person.  Apparently he feels that anyone weighing in at anything over 200 pounds is not really fit for his attentions, and is just a waste of his valuable time.   (I am presuming that the good doctor weighs 200 pounds.)  He recommended that I might want to consider some sort of bariatric surgical self-mutilation to correct my defect, and sent a hospital representative to tell me about this popular medical procedure.  The outcome from that meeting was not encouraging either.

Not that I'm much interested in this sort of thing.  I didn't really even have a chance to voice my vote on the heart surgery, at the time.   But apparently it was just assumed, since I showed up at their hospital.  Going to the ER seemed like the natural thing to do, since I was hurting at the time.  In retrospect perhaps it was a mistake.  From now on, I'll not be so anxious to find relief from suffering pain at the hands of doctors.  Over the last five years, the medical folks have consistently demonstrated to me that such a trivial consideration as easing pain is far from their first priority.

So it hurts.  But I'm not dead yet.  And I'm not giving up hope.  I've faced this kind of attitude before, and it is no use trying to obtain any further medical help from those with this sort of fatalistic thinking.  Seems like the medical guys are trying to make me believe, "Resistance is futile".  I'm willing to try reasonable things.  But five years ago, I encountered a similar attitude in the doctors attending me after the stroke that should have killed me then.  The suggestion then was for me to take anti-depressants - and find another doctor.

Some time later, a University of Utah neurologist discovered that I had a tumor that was causing at least some of the problems. I had seen literally dozens of doctors with the same symptoms.  Nobody else came up with any diagnoses that seemed even remotely related.

Not every doctor seems exclusively focused on the technical aspects of the medical practice.  There have been notable exceptions that I recognize and apprieciate, like Dr. Digre, Dr. Skalabrin, Dr. Kennedy, Dr. Kielar, and others.  Some seem to realize that the relief of pain and suffering is one of the best things medical science can do for humankind.  But perhaps this pursuit is simply too mundane for most doctors to face - I really don't know.  All I know is, I go to doctors seeking pain relief, and most of them only seem to perceive me as an object that needs "fixing".

I am far beyond the point of hoping for that.

Apparently for me the most obvious interests to pursue now are end-of-life considerations.

Everybody dies.

Trial by Tee-shirt

Yes, it probably is.

One thing stood out in Eric Samuelson's dramatic review of the George Zimmerman trial coverage.  Samuelson wrote,

I am frightened for our country.  I thought it was a good thing in our country when we elected a Black man as President.  When I saw photos of Tea Party rallies with men wearing T shirts that read ‘Keep the White House White,’ I thought it was just a minor thing, a vestigial remnant of our bad ‘ol past.

My first impression was that it seems somewhat odd, to judge such an important issue on a basis as trivial as a tee-shirt slogan.  So I went to the Internet to verify the availability of such slogans.  Surely something so regarded as representative should be easy to find on Google search.

Sure enough, someone captured a photo of the infamous tee-shirt.

Such things are certainly not any kind of anachronism.  They're being sold today across the Internet.

Just a little aside to Eric - perhaps you will note that the shirt itself designates this as a "Romney/Ryan" campaign event, not a Tea Party rally. And it seems to be one man wearing the tee-shirt in question, not a whole cadre.  Please pay better attention.  Details such as these might be important.

But as I searched for tee-shirt themes, I came across quite a diversity of interesting examples of the tee-shirt slogan mentality.

This one is a very nice example.

And this one comes across with a certain style that leaves little to the imagination.

Unfriendly tee-shirt slogans certainly seem to be something to be feared!

Revisiting: Reflections on Fatherhood

Revisiting long-ago posts from the Bloggernacle, some reflections on fatherhood...

The Divine decree has always been informed by a certain special relationship that the Sons of God share with their Father in Heaven.  Fathers and sons in Zion are a typical reflection of this relationship.

June 13, 2006 at 2:01 pm

What a perfect provocation for a personal tirade!

 …how having children has changed them...

Indications of how children changed fathers are always there, and are usually just as obvious as the signs of the motherhood dynamic. Women generally cannot see them, or do not care to acknowledge them.

I speak as a divorced, former father. Because of my own cynicism I find it doubtful that women are really interested in fatherhood stories at all. I suspect that they really just want fathers to tell motherhood stories.

In my experience, men have far less of a proprietary sense with regard to children. To a mother, her children are status objects very much like property. Our social and legal system ratify this proprietary interest. Even among church members we hear of divorced familes, “The children follow the mother”. (Whatever they think that means.)

…how they juggle the demands of working...

(Laughing…)  Amazingly, this is one the mothers seldom comprehend, not even “single” mothers working full time. For fathers, children and families are the demands of working. As a former father and single man I don’t feel the same obligation to perform and compete at work or anywhere else. The family is the strongest motivating force for fathers.

Working is not a juggling act. It is a crushing, overpowering everpresent insatiable demand that we impose upon ourselves, through endless reinforcements and social conditioning.

…nurturing their family...

Nurturing doesn’t really belong on the fatherhood list, does it? Since the term is basically synoymous with motherhood, it doesn’t apply.

I’m not just cynical about this observation. Motherhood has its own set of expectations that constitute a holistic definition. Why should the terms of fatherhood be forced into the same definition?

…and maintaining their sanity...

Again, this is a motherhood cliche. Too many mothers resort to this kind of gratuitous self-aggrandizing hyperbole — “Oh, you should congratulate me, I survived another day with the kids (and my Prozac)!

When they were part of my stewardship I never asked for or wanted a medal for providing for the children. Even after our relationship was legally terminated I continued to to my best to support them, though they ceased to acknowledge me as a father. Fathers don’t require special recognition just for doing their routinely accepted duties. That seems to be a singular distinguishing factor.

June 13, 2006 at 10:14 pm

Imagine me writing a suggestion that to celebrate mothers’s day, women should try to relate to their children more like a man.

• Take your children into the forest for a day, teaching them to run a chainsaw and heft a double-bit axe, and bring home five cords of firewood.
•  Train your children to understand and respect automobiles by rebuilding an engine, with the stipulation that they must walk or find rides everywhere until the job is finished.
• Help your kids understand the meaning and value of life by teaching them how to slaughter a domestic animal that they have raised, and preparing it for food for the family.
• Provide opportunities for temporary employment for your children that involve high hazards and routine risk of serious personal injury. Educate them in how to deal safely with such risk. Teach them to endure temporary physical discomfort and pain without complaining. Help them understand that preparing meals and doing laundry are not comparable burdens.

Do these qualify as “nurturing”? They would for me. These are some of the kinds of things I could have taught my former children, things that they will likely never learn from their mother.

June 14, 2006 at 9:52 am

...that is exactly the kind of nurturing my dad gave me. I love him for it...

Mine too. It was always dad’s job to go camping with us, to take us to work with him, to bring us home dirty and tired and a little bit bruised and bloody from time to time.

My dad served in the bishopric in our ward during most of the time I was growing up. He was always busy. But I don’t think he shortchanged us on time spent.

This is what I mourn the most for my lost children. They have a “nurturing” mother who decided that by her standard their father was not making a positive contribution. So she decided to change the arrangement. And she had every resource of the law and the church to support her. As well as my continuing mandatory financial “obligations”.

It has been more than ten years, and I have seen or heard nothing from my children since then. But I suppose they are “nurtured”.

June 15, 2006 at 2:47 pm

 

Memorable moments of early fatherhood.

Mental image of firstborn son Jim. (He used to share my name. I don’t know what he calls himself today.)

At the instant of birthing, he emerged with skin colored bright blue. Shocked, unexpected, wondering what went wrong. The first breath, feeble cries, and quickly turning healthy pink. The most incredibly full and dark mane of thick black baby hair running halfway down his back.

Weeping with joy, filled with the most intensely overwhelming emotional flood.

A photo of son Jim, just a toddler. In an unsupervised moment, him standing in the unfinished basement room, the current family project. Beaming brightly, his little hands and arms raised high, coated an inch thick up to the elbows with heavy yellow sheet rock mud.

Hustles off to the shower.

A handful of boys at play in the sandbox. Son Robert, five or six years old. Shouting, “By the Power of Greyskull!!!”. Unsheathes a long butcher knife from hiding down the back of his t-shirt, and strikes a pose emulating the tv hero He-Man, brandishing the knife as his invincible weapon, threatening his foes in the sandbox.

Frantic parental intervention.

Another vignette of Robert, several years older. Unaware that he is being observed, standing on the sidewalk contemplating as neighbors drive by. He finds a big rock and launches it at Randy Jones passing in his truck. Strikes a bullseye. Randy stops abruptly with a squeal of tires. Looking at me...

Better do somethin’ ’bout that, slick.
Oh yeah, I will. 

Randy continues on. Robert takes to his heels, dad following into the house at a slightly more leisurely pace.

Intensive father/son discussion on why we don’t throw rocks at cars.

A landscape moment. Striving to make the desert blossom. Mother and children huddled around the front porch, watching in shock as dad wrestles with the ditch-witch that won’t. Frustrated and enraged beyond control, temper long-lost, cursing and swearing a blue streak.

At a later sandbox session, father overhears the interplay where one of the children announces that his name is “Dammit”.

Sincere father/son discussion about how we sometimes say things that we know we shouldn’t.

Son Thomas, eleven, suffers a serious leg fracture at the roller-skating party. Shocked at such an unexpected turn, the father secretly weeps tears of fear and anguish. 

Father in Heaven, please, let the pain and suffering come to me — please spare my children! 

 Thomas spends miserable months in wheelchair and full cast...

What a fragile thing our lives really are.

Son Joseph, the most sensitive of the boys. He is so enthralled with Nintendo and Super Mario Brothers that he has a prolonged tantrum when his games are interrupted.

Some soul-searching for an answer. The game is retired.

Dad goes to summer camp with the older boys. Along the hiking trail, son Robert is separated from the party for a brief time. Searching, praying, franticly looking for some clue that he might have passed this way, through the thousands of acres of wilderness surrounding. Shortly thereafter, as he is found...

I couldn’t find you guys anywhere!

 Trying not to show the tears of relief and gratitude.

Dad and son wrap their arms around each other, for a brief instant understanding and acknowledging everything that it means to be dad and son.

Discussions about what to do when we are lost.

June 15, 2006 at 7:03 pm

Another short picture of the integral father/child bond of long ago…
Son Joseph, retired to his bed early, suffering from flu, feverish. The rest of the family is eating dinner together.

Some strange signal from the children’s room alerts that something is wrong.

Distress!  Help!

Urgent message, unuttered, yet clearly received.

Hastening into the room. The child’s body is distended and racked with convulsions. His skin is dusky, ashen gray — impossible. No living person can turn that color. Shock condensed into one horrified frozen moment.

Suddenly comprehending the need to act, a frantic summons issues for ambulance and paramedics. Confusion over what to do, not knowing what might be wrong.

Then, a few quiet seconds, like the eye of the hurricane passing over.

Father gently takes the infant son in his arms. He quietly pronounces a priesthood blessing.

Moments later, the paramedics arrive and the calm is broken. Amid noise and haste, the child was carried away to the hospital.

Tense hours followed. Doctors performed diagnostics and made recommendations.

But everything turned out okay. And the father knew, assured from the moment of the blessing, that it would be so.

And I believe that somehow, though he was unconscious, the son knew it as well.