Comic sans and the art of trying to manipulate heart strings (but with all sorts of backfiring)

The other day I was checking my e-mail, when I found THIS in my inbox.  And when I say THIS, I want you to get swept up in the moment, like I was about to unveil some get-rich quick scheme or great deal on Amazon.com, or something much, much more awesome than what I am actually going to share with you.

Because what I am going to share with you is a forward that tells a possibly pretend simple story and tries to light a fire inside of you to make you want to solve all of the world's problems without actually giving you the tools to solve anything.  Here it is:  

My brother is 18 years old. He has an IQ of 30-40 and has been in school for 12 years. My brother has always attended an elementary school. He has had a number of years of individualized instruction and has learned to do a lot of things!

My brother can now do lots of things he couldn't do before!

He can put 100 pegs in a board in less than 10 minutes while in his seat with 95% accuracy.
BUT, he can't put quarters in vending machines.

Upon command, he can touch his nose, shoulder, leg, foot, hair and ear. He's still working on wrist, ankle and hips.
BUT, he can't blow his nose when needed.

He can now do a 12 piece Big Bird puzzle with 100% accuracy and color the Easter Bunny while staying in the lines.
BUT, he prefers music. However, he was never taught how to use a radio or record player.

He can now fold primary paper in halves and even quarters.
BUT, he can't fold his clothes.

He can sort blocks by color; up to 10 different colors!
BUT, he can't sort clothes; whites from colors for washing.

He can roll Play-Doh and make wonderful clay snakes.
BUT, he can't roll bread dough and cut out biscuits.

He can string beads in alternating colors and match it to a pattern on a DLM card.
BUT, he can't lace his shoes.

He can sing his ABCs and tell me names of all the letters of the alphabet when presented on a card in upper case with 80% accuracy.
BUT, he can't tell the men's room from the ladies room when we go to McDonald's.

He can be told it's cloudy/rainy and take a black felt cloud and put it on the day of the week on an enlarged calendar(with assistance).
BUT, he still goes out in the rain without a raincoat.

He can point to 100 different Peabody Picture Cards with 100% accuracy.
BUT, he can't order a hamburger by pointing to a picture or gesturing.

He can walk a balance beam, side ways and backwards.
BUT, he can't walk up the steps or bleachers unassisted in the gym to go to a basketball game.

He can count to 100 by rote memory.
BUT, he doesn't know how many dollars to pay the cashier for a $2.59 McDonald's coupon special.

He can put the cube in the box, under the box, beside the box and behind the box.
BUT, he can't find the trash bin in McDonald's and empty his trash in it.

He can sit in a circle with appropriate behavior and sing songs and play "Duck, Duck, Goose"
But, nobody else his age in his neighborhood seems to want to do that.

I GUESS HE'S JUST NOT READY YET!

Awww, that's so cute and cuddly and it just makes me want to GET OUT MY FREAKING TORCH AND PITCHFORK AND FREAKING THE FREAKING....oh, sorry.  Sometimes I get carried away with myself when I read stories like that.  Stories that are, you know, BS.

Any time I get an e-forward dealing with some vague story in the cheesy forward font (that I have so painstakingly preserved for you...but seriously, what is up with that font?), with the CAPS and the colors- I tend to just delete it or ignore it.  But something about this one rubbed me the wrong way.  And so I'm devoting a whole flipping blog to it. 

First of all, I should acknowledge that there is some good stuff here.  The premise is solid, and not just for special education.  I do believe that education should be more pragmatic in many regards.  There's all these 'academic pursuits' that on the surface don't really have any real-life application at all.  Why should kids have to learn their times tables, and memorize state capitals, and how to do all that other crap we had to do in school that I honestly don't remember?  So they can all grow up and get the good factory jobs that we're now outsourcing?

As a parent, I have to say that I'm...well, I'm in 'wait-and-see' mode when it comes to public education.  I'm not super cynical, but I am also afraid that my kids will end up missing out on something awesome.  Both my kids are smart.  And they love to learn, so I'm not worried about them failing in the system.  My fear is that they won't develop the ability to think critically until they're in college (which is what happened to yours truly) because the system is set up to produce a bunch of times-table knowing, state-capital spouting drones.  And yes, that's pretty much truth I just spit.

Word

Back to our story.  The problem I have with this forward (and others of similar ilk) is the whole 'Bumper Sticker Philosophy' behind it.  These forwards, as I alluded to earlier, try to use some vague and mysterious and shameful anecdote to spur people on to action without really taking a meaningful look at the issue that they're trying to solve.  So you end up with a bunch of frothing mad villagers with fire and sharp objects that are just standing around looking confused while whatever pet cause you were trying to promote is still in the same place of non-solvedness that it was before.

That's where I come in.  I'm like the Michael Clayton of e-mail forwards.  Let's look at a few things that bother me about this particular forward.

1) We don't know anything about the socio-economics of this situation. Are we talking a rural or urban area?  Is there lots of money- or is it dirt poor?  What about the family?  Are they scraping by, trying to do the best they can with the hand they were dealt, or do they have a lot of resources at their disposal?  These are not trivial questions, either- they determine the gap between where the child is and where they want him to be.  Lots of money=travesty, No money=lower your expectations.

But our author wants us to completely look the other way and just blame the Evil Education System for this kid walking into the ladies room at McDonalds and dumping his trash on the floor at McDonalds and holding up the other customers in line at McDonalds and...wait a minute...I just figured out what the problem is.

STOP GOING TO MCDONALDS.


Won't somebody please think of the chickens?

Seriously though, it's easy to blame the education system without knowing what exactly the education system is able to provide.  Do they have enough aide support?  Do they have access to auxiliary services, such as speech and OT/PT?  Do they even have the appropriate placement?  I bet that not every district has a 'middle-school'-type program, and in some areas they might not even have a high school program.   

Unfortunately there are districts that can't afford to provide the services that would help this kid to be successful.  They can't afford to pay another teacher or two more aides or a speech pathologist and they don't have extra space for such a program, let alone the space they would need for the population they would be providing services for.  Thus, you end up with an elementary schooler who is 18 years old.  So while it's easy to blame the school for being incompetent (without the pertinent information) maybe, mystery person, your brother is an 18 year old in an elementary school BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NO PLACE ELSE FOR HIM TO GO.

2) It sounds like the problem isn't so much that this kid wasn't taught anything- he just wasn't taught specific skills that you're looking for, or at least he wasn't taught how to generalize the skills he did learn.  On that point, I will concede that part of that blame could fall on the school.  Many of the areas he seems to be experience deficits in are ones that could be worked on in a classroom setting.  It shouldn't be too hard to find time to fold clothes or put coins in a vending machine or even operate a CD player.  Those skills could be taught in class, so checkmate.  You win.

NOT.

A couple things could get overlooked here.  First off, we know a little bit of his academic level, but we don't know how long it took to reach the point where he is at.  We don't know how many hundreds of hours were spent trying to get this kid to be able to just put the cube inside the box.  The forward makes it sound like these people were just twiddling their thumbs every day for twelve years while little 'Bro was stringing beads and doing Big Bird puzzles like some poor lost ship without a rudder.  Even though I have only worked in special education for four months, I can assure you that is not (usually) the case.  To get to those levels from the initial baseline is a long, slow, painstaking and arduous process.  Sure, it's easy to look at that list and think 'Why the heck would they work on that?  That's pointless', without realizing that it can take years of determined effort to achieve those specific skills.  Skills which, when generalized, have very broad applicability in the lives of our young protagonist.

It's too bad that the school failed to help him broaden the scope of his efforts.  If only there was someone who was with this child even more than the school- someone who could work with them during the summer...and on weekends!  Someone who knew how this child functioned outside of the walls of the school and knew which things they needed to work on and could communicate that to the school and maybe...just maybe...work on those things after school hours! 

Too bad nothing like that exists.  Oh wait, it does.  It's called FAMILY.

3) Before I get run away with here, I should say that I can't even imagine how difficult it must be to raise a child with severe special needs.  I have been fortunate enough to have been blessed with two healthy children who are certainly a chip off the old block in the smarts department (desmartment?), so I really have no idea how difficult it can be.  At most, I get about a seven hour glimpse five days a week, and sometimes that is more than I can take.  So I don't mean to be too smarmy and condescending.  You..do know what condescending means, right?

That said, what probably pisses me off the most about this forward is the latent idea behind all of those red lines- that the shortcomings, the 'failures' are the fault of the poorly run, insufficiently planned, educational process that this poor child was subjected to his entire life while the poor family stood helplessly by, unable to stop the juggernaut that was too busy carrying their child towards another payday to get wrapped up in actually helping him. 

Wait a minute...just what was the family doing for those twelve years?

I'm not going to entertain the possibility that this family (unlike some) is uncaring and non-involved in the education process.  After all, a mere sibling is able to spout off achievements with nearly 100% recollection- that's impressive.  And they're taking him out into the community-  to McDonalds, to basketball games, out in the rain- so kudos to them.  It seems that they're putting forth some effort to make this work.

And we won't talk about how a number of parents (and this goes for the general populous, too) are willing to sit back and let the education system foot the education-of-our-children bill while they stand by pointing fingers.  We won't lump these parents in with those that just send their kid to school, hope that they learn something, and then plop them in front of the computer/TV/X-box all night so the house can finally have some peace and quiet.  Freaking kids.

No, instead we're going to take this route- did they ever voice these concerns in a staffing or IEP meeting?  Did they ever go, 'You know, George is simply lights out on that DLM card...but, he can't exactly tie his shoes.  We should talk to his teacher and treatment team and see if we can have George start working on that'?  Maybe they did, but that doesn't seem to be the case- otherwise our finger-pointer surely would have brought it up. 

We constantly brought up these issues.  Every IEP meeting, every staffing, we even started to document the phone calls we made to the teacher and school administrators, as well as comments made in passing to the aides.  All we wanted was for them to actually start working with my brother on skills that would help him in real life.
BUT, nope-they just kept working on that stupid s***.

Not that an IEP is a miracle cure. It's not like sitting down and having some dialogue is going to automatically make things all better.  It is, however, a communicative process where the family can ask about progress, and express things that they'd like to see accomplished, after which the team of educators come up with some sort of curriculum/plan to help the student to achieve those objectives. 


If the family isn't happy with the level of services, they bring that to the attention of the team at the next meeting, the IEP gets tweaked, and they try, try again.  Maybe tangible progress is made, maybe not- but at least everybody moves forward having had an open exchange and knowing that everyone was trying to get to the same point.

Instead, some sibling who is probably jealous due to lack of attention decided to type up a cutesy little forward and sent it around to special education departments everywhere, in the hopes that the soft-hearted special education department people would be galvanized into action.  Nothing like putting some grease on the squeeky wheel while the car is about to drive off a cliff, right?

I leave with this- the intentions behind this forward, honorable as they might have been, are dangerously misleading.  There are many hands in the cookie jar of education, and to think that all of those hands are not equally guilty of stealing the cookies is naive at best, damning at worst.  Sure, the educational system is not nearly what it could be, but as long as the anonymous are willing to sit behind their computer screens and fire off passive-aggressive anecdotes and call for teachers' jobs instead of being willing to accept responsibility and look at the whole system (families included), then we're going to keep churning out generations of children that are JUST NOT READY YET!
.

Pictures:

Gangsta- http://www.byroncrawford.com/images/nygun.jpg

PETA- http://www.peta.org/cfs-filesystemfile.ashx/__key/CommunityServer-Components-SiteFiles/Peta-Images-Main-Sections-Blog-PETA+Files/scaldingtank.JPG

Wonka- http://knowyourmeme.com/photos/233260-condescending-wonka

Spring Broken

Screw the fancy intro- I'm gonna just come out and say it.  This past week was Spring Break- the Worst. Spring Break. EVER.

It wasn't a bad Spring Break though, which is probably confusing.  So allow me to explain.

In life, everything is about context.  I swear I've written about this before, but I'm too disheartened to go looking for it now.  But as I said, yes, in life, everything is about context.  So then, with context, it can make sense for me to say that a good spring break was the Worst. Spring Break. EVER.  Clearly then, this is the part of the show where I give you the context.

First, what this Spring Break was in terms of "happenings": it was a jaunt down to my family's house in da L.P. for a few days of R&R.  We ate at the Pixie and Blackjacks Pizza, celebrated a couple of birthdays (of which yours truly was one), got the Easter party started a couple days early, spent some time with my long-lost sister (wait- you mean she's been in Grand Rapids this whole time?  Yeah I don't think so), and got ice cream from Doozies.  Oh, and I took more naps this week than I have in all of 2012.  Good start, right?

And these are just some of the specifics- there were many more familial interactions throughout the week that contributed to the goodness of the trip.  Because any time me and the fam get together, magic happens.

The Face of magic, on the back of some dude's head

So where does the Worst. Spring Break. EVER. come in?  Simply here- as some/hopefully most of you know, since December of 2011 I've been working two jobs since I haven't been able to get one job that will, pardon the pun, do the job.  Unfortunately, one of those jobs is Monday-Friday and the other one is a weekend job.  Do the math- Seven days a week, I be working. 

Truthfully it hasn't been as bad as it could have been.  I had Christmas break in December, and then some other days off in January and February (in-services, snow-days, etc.), so I haven't had an over-abundance of 7-day work weeks.  Then March hit the calendar, and like an endless stretch of wasteland it loomed over my soul.  I couldn't look at a calendar with a sigh, gulp, or some combination of the two.  Because I know that barring a miraculous snow day, there would be no days off in March for me.  None.  Zip. Zilch.  Nada.

The one gentle thought, my shining light and beacon of hope was Spring Break, which came right away in April, and I allowed myself to hope and believe that if I could just get through March, then I would have that week off in April to reboot and be back in business.  So even as March dragged on...and on...and on, and I dealt with repetitively inane situations at the school, I was always able to hold onto that little flicker of Spring Break that was always coming closer at the close of every day.   

Wednesday, March 28th was when I pretty much reached my limit, both physically and mentally.  Fortunately, the next three days I only had to work half-days, and then an 8 hour shift on April 1st...and then home.  HOME!!!  I made it.  March had not destroyed me.  Sure, it had sliced open my chest, ripped out my heart, gnawed on my ankles, and left me for dead.  But dead I was not- instead, I was longing and aching to set foot in my old stomping grounds where I would be renewed and rejuvenated as had happened many times prior.

Except fate, it seems, is not without a cruel sense of humor, and Delaney started to develop a cold during those last days of March.  And the day we went down her eyes started to turn pink.  And goopy.  Because one of her classmates must have had pink and goopy eyes sometime the week before Spring Break.  Pink Eye.  Ugh.  The most annoying, least destructive blight on mankind had showed up to drop its little eye boogers of contagion all over my parade.

If that was the only thing that happened though, I think it would have been alright.  It would have been a blemish on the week, for sure, but not anything too insurmountable.  Of course, as you have already surmised from reading this far, it is not all that happened- it was merely the harbinger of things to come.

Because that very Monday night, after making the 6+ hour trip downstate and then having to go into the out-of-town doctors office to get some Pink Eye medicine...as I was sitting in the living room watching RAW with my mom, brother, and sister, I started to get The Throat Feeling.  You know that feeling you get in your throat when you're not sick yet- but you are going to be sick very soon?  Uh huh.  That's the feeling I got on Monday night.  That's when we started to veer straight into Worst Spring Break Ever territory.

We didn't actually reach that territory until Wednesday, when Shane started coughing.  And nasally draining.  And pink eye gooping.  Oh, and just for kicks, let's throw in an ear infection.  Awesome!

Yes friends, the week I had been looking to for over a month as this sacred oasis in the desert of my working life, the trip that was going to restore me to physical and mental health- instead saw me become a one-man zombie triage unit, alternating antibiotic eye drops into unwilling eyes between cough-riddled fits of sleep (both my own and the kids).  If you've ever had young children with some sort of infectious disease, then you know that the more contagious the disease, the more often that children will touch the contagious area and then immediately look to touch something else.  Times that by two, and then divide by 8 (since my ability to be hypervigilant was severely impaired by my own physical ailments) and you pretty much get....well, I don't know what you get, because there aren't any real numbers to work with.  Just know that it's vile and horrible and not even a close approximation of what I thought my Spring Break would be. 

Again, I want to reiterate that in and of itself, this was not a terrible trip.  It was, by many accounts, a very fun and memorable trip.  It's just that I hoped for some solid mental decompression and relaxation.  Not that I could every wholly take off my parenting super-cape, but I certainly wasn't planning to don the parenting haz-mat suit either.  Next week, I start back to work.  Back to seven days a week.  Every week (mostly).  I don't know what April and May look like- but I can't imagine there's too many April days off, since we just had Spring Break, and May is probably solidly booked until Memorial day.  Sure, June is only a week of work until summer break- it's just that I may break long before then.

Pic- http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/f/f2/Voldemort_in_Movie_1.jpg

We're not friends anymore (if we ever were)

Well, it's officially that time of year again- Spring.  The time of year traditionally associated with cleaning.  And, since I really don't clean, I sate my biologically driven nesting urges with something a bit more 21st century- weeding out my Facebook friends list.

Sadly yes, folks, it's true- being my friend on Facebook is not 'til death do us part' enterprise.  Once we enter into a Facebook relationship, there is no guarantee that I will abstain from going through my friends list and just dropping fools like dope rhymes.

Yo

Lest you think I am a cold-hearted killer, I want you to know that this was not an easy venture for me.  Anyone who could be eliminated easily is already gone.  Presently, however, I can pretty much look at every name on the list and rationalize them sticking around.  It's probably a good thing I'm not leading a group of survivors during the zombie apocalypse. 

Then again...

Before the chop shop, I was sitting cozy at about 350 friends, which is a decent amount (although nowhere near as high as the lists of some people.  Seriously, how do you even know 1,000+ people?), especially since I pretty much will only be Facebook friends with people who I have at least been friendly with in the past (other than that time when I was playing Madden on Facebook and took in a whole bunch of strangers).  Maybe it was that we hung out a few times, or possibly I worked with you. Perhaps we played together in a band, or on the court. Whatever the case, there was some point when our lives intersected and I thought 'what a nice person- I sure would like to stalk their photos get to know them better'.

But just as a smile from a girl does not mean that she wants to sleep with you (Oh, sorry- spoiler alert to all my teenage boy readers), some fun times are not a compelling reason to keep the fires of friendship burning.  So in the end, 50 people had to go. 50 dreams had to die so that my Facebook friends list could maintain its vibrancy.  Let's take a moment to remember the lives of those Facebook relationshipsOkay, moment's over.

THE PART WHERE I TELL YOU HOW I DID IT

The last time I thinned out the herd, my main deciding factor was my willingness to wish them a happy birthday when prompted by Facebook.  If I took the time, you were in.  If I didn't really care- boom.  You were gone.

Boom

Since then, I have realized that I often ignore Facebook birthday prompts even for people I would genuinely like to wish a happy birthday to, so I had to come up with something else. 

I'd love to sit here and tell you I designed this amazingly awesome formula relying on algorhythms and ratio of likes to comments divided by mutual friends- but that would be something of substance and would set up expectations...and I'm not really ready to go there.  I want you to think I'm stupid so that when I do something not-stupid, you're amazed and give me positive feedback.  Sort of like getting M&M's for going on the potty.

Basically what I did was I went through and figured out why I was friends with somebody, and if it wasn't because we had interacted recently/often or related (or some mystery category that I won't tell you because I'm trying to build suspense for the sequel), then you were probably going to get the axe.  Especially if you fell into one of these categories (Note: Everybody that got cut fell into one of these categories). 

1) We went to high school together.  In a few years, this category will probably be 'We Went To College Together'.  When I first got on Facebook, I wanted to find as many people from high school as I could- not because I missed them or because we were great friends in the first place.  It was pretty much just a relentless sense of curiosity.  'Oh, I wonder how so-and-so is doing'.  'Hmmm, I wonder if blank is married'.  Or, 'Hey, X still owes me money'. 

What I found once I became friends with those people is that after a few initial pleasantries and having all of my questions answered, we almost immediately went back to our previous level of relationshipping- zero. 

See, the reason why I had to wonder what those people were up to is we never communicated after high school.  No phone calls.  No letters.  No e-mails.  Nary even a seance.  Our paths parted, and that was it.  So while I appreciate Facebook helping me to satisfy my thirst for knowledge, I disdain it for making me feel like there was some sort of magical connection between me and some people who I happened to share a geographical boundary with during the formative years of my life than there already wasn't.

2) Savior complex.  This is probably a terrible thing to say, but honestly some of my Facebook friends...well, they were my friends because I felt bad for them.  And maybe that's an altruistic approach- but maybe it's the sign of a real jerk-face.  I don't know.  I've definitely thought about deleting them in the past, but every time I went to delete them, I thought 'awww but they probably don't have any other friends'.  I think this is the same part of the brain that makes people want to keep cats as pets.

Unfortunately, this isn't really a healthy approach to a relationship (Oh, sorry- spoiler alert to everybody).  If you enter into a friendship with such unequal footing, it will probably never develop into an authentic human relationship.  And I'm all about authentic human relationships.  Starting now.

3) People on the extremes of belief.  Many people I know are reasonable people who can look at situations and see the merit in multiple points of view and then make educated decisions for themselves.  I enjoy conversing with these kinds of people.  Not all people can do that though- at least not on Facebook.  However, I didn't eliminate all extremists because extremism in moderation can help you better understand the world around you.  Indeed, the words of the extreme are like a blanket to a baby, if the blanket was also an electrified barbed wire fence.


4) Blog exposure.  This probably seems quite narcissistic, but if you've been here before than surely you know that is sort of my 'thing'.  Besides, can you blame me?  In this day and age, it's all about self-promotion and self-aggrandizement.  What, are people just supposed to judge me based on what I do?  That seems awful petty, don't you think?

But as I press on and on, I realize that I'm not soon to be on the cusp of fame.  I'm not just about to break through.  There are no roles coming up that will launch me into stardom.  I don't have time to devote to being a famous blogger.  I am too busy being a husband/father/provider/Dragonborn. 



WHAT ELSE DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME??????

So really there's no reason to keep stringing people along, pretending to be their Facebook friend (which is kind of like pretending to be a pretend friend) just so that they might see me post a link to my blog.  They'll have to find my blog the same way the rest of the world does- divine intervention.

And that, kids, is the story of how I whittled my Facebook friends list from 350 to 300.  The end.

(For now)

PICS:

Gangsta- http://www.byroncrawford.com/images/nygun.jpg 

Rick- http://blogs.amctv.com/the-walking-dead/Andrew-Lincoln-V2-325.jpg
Volcano- http://www.layoutsparks.com/1/43552/Boom-fire-volcano-layout.html
Dragonborn-https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpS9qnR_KZq1p4I6ybq7AxBHjW6QuysaMKWIwTDs3dQd8SLVIUywSFQ6MHLV4aTGC83tLlZdK2jAIsI-XNzhBDpvT2N2NzM7fbns2TZj684JgsjB6cmDfyvSqYj6B-qMnfEfA1F0rIeo/s1600/Skyrim+Dragonborn+Dragon+Shout.png

I've had it with these mother-effin snakes on this mother-effin island

Today is St. Patrick's Day.  That's pretty much apparent to everyone, what with all of the green attire, faux Irish people, and expensiver colored beer going on.  What is perhaps less certain is my motivation for writing on this day as opposed to other, different days that I did not write on.

Simply put, I was struck by inspiration this morning.  Actually, I was struck by hot water in the shower, but some of that water obviously morphed into liquid inspiration, infiltrated my ear canals, wove its way into my brain and somehow penetrated the Great Matrix and became one with my soul.  I became like the Avatar Of Whatever I Am Going To Now Start Writing.  Even now, I can feel the pulsing of your anticipation and hear the heavy breathing of curiosity in lieu of my awesome intro- so I shall ease your suffering and immediately "get in the zone".

So I had a random thought the other day about God, and I'll be the first to admit that it isn't the most well-thought out and researched thought, but I had it and I'm running on liquid inspiration, so anyways the thought was, why does faith have such a huge focus on proselytization?  Why is getting the word out such a big deal?  I know, I know, it's a commandment- but why?  Shouldn't it just be that God is, like, so big and huge that everybody already knows and rebellion is then a blatantly stupid choice that some people make?

(Just so you know, I'm not going to be answering this question, or any other questions, about God in this post.  So if you came here searching for wisdom, you might just want to hit the 'next blog' button there at the top, although I think it's algorithmically engineered to give you a random blog, so you should probably just stay here anyways in case you go do an even dumber blog)

Please don't misunderstand- it's not that I'm opposed to the idea of evangelism.  The essence of evangelism is telling someone something they don't know that you think they should know.  Nothing wrong with that- in moderation. 

Think of everything you've ever learned, ever.  You were, at one time, ignorant of your non-learningness and needed to be shown the light by someone with greater wisdom and knowledge than you.  It's how we learn to speak, and write, and use the bathroom.  All throughout our lives, we're learning and growing and much of that information has to come from outside sources who had some sort of passion or urge to help us improve the quality of our lives (although with toilet training, the motives are much less altruistic and more rooted in the mindset of JUST USE THE FREAKING TOILET ALREADY!!!!!). 

While faith evangelism is different in that it's higher up on the hierarchy of needs, the principle is still sound.  Faith works for many people- it gives them hope, helps them through stressful times, and can provide a built-in sense of community.  In that sense, it's not preposterous to believe that others would want their friends and family to be a part of that.  It's not that simple though. 

The problem is that often evangelism comes from a pre-supposed position of superiority that makes it difficult to relate to other people on a "human" level.  When you meet someone on the uneven playing field of "I already know that what I have to say is true, and it is true because I believe it is true, and therefore nothing you can say will shake my knowledge of the truth of what I say", your victory is assured because either they will see it your way or else they will fall further into their "delusion".  Either way, you've done your "job".

A few years ago, I was studying for an upcoming test in one of the lounge areas on campus when a girl I'd never met came up to me and struck up a conversation.  I instantly pegged her as trying to convert me and sure enough- after a rousing round of small talk, she asked me if I went to church anywhere (a Jesus and Bible believing church, to be sure).  I assured her I did, and after a few minutes of this (and also making sure that my sister's mission trip to Thailand was under the auspices of the Bible-believing Jesus banner), she left, and I resumed my studying.  She probably felt further emboldened in her faith by approaching such an intimidating stranger ('sup)- and I felt a sort of sadness at the death of what could have been a real human moment.

See what bothers me about that whole interaction is that I pegged it from the beginning.  Sure, I could go off on a separate post about the human distance in our society, and how we are becoming increasingly absorbed into our own little worlds and more detached from the lives of others- but the liquid inspiration is almost gone.  Some of you might even say it never quite 'took'.  Po-TAY-toes, po-TAH-toes.  But after the whole ordeal was done I felt like I was a statistic.  I felt like, to this girl, I was not a fellow person to interact with; rather, that I was some sort of spiritual trophy to be taken and adorned on a belt full of other "lost" souls that she had won. 

So as we celebrate the life of a man who brought Christianity to a nation of people who may or may not have been receptive to it, let's remember to respect the life story that each of us has embarked on.  I'm not saying that experience=truth, I'm saying that they have just as much right to believe what they believe as you, that they probably have as many sufficient reasons for those beliefs as you do yours, and if you engage people in relationships that are built upon converting them onto the trophy case...then you might have missed the main message of whatever faith you converted them to in the first place.

Another non-update update

I was going to write today.  Really, I was.  I had the best intentions...but really I didn't even get that far.  I'm so tired.  I have fleeting moments of inspiration, brief flashes of noteworthy thought...and then it's gone.  Only 3 more weeks until Spring Break- Lord knows I need it!  In the meantime I press on, waking up every day when my alarm clock tells me to, because that's what I have to do for my family right now.

The Skyrim Times- or another possible goose chase.

I have a very ambitious yet fun sounding project in my head. I’m not sure if I’ll go through with it…but the idea tickles me- I want to create an ongoing newspaper for the video game Skyrim.

It’s such a deep, dense game that I’m not sure I could pull it off. It’s definitely not something that I’m going to be starting anytime soon- I’m still playing through Skyrim and I want to beat the game without having to focus on anything else. Ideally I’ll then start it over and start taking notes and whatnot.

In my head, I’m imagining making my character into a captured journalist who escapes from the dragon and makes off to Whiterun. He becomes an investigative reporter for the Whiterun News (or something). I’d write up stories on the silly local shenanigans, with maybe an editorial on the state of affairs in the larger Skyrim, pieces on creatures and plant life, local fare, shopping reviews, and occasional tidbits from the other holds as well. I’m thinking it will be a nice mix of serious information and absurd silliness.

I’m putting this out there to see if anyone would be interested in collaborating with me on this project. I will definitely need some fellow historians- there is such complexity in this game, it’s overwhelming! Articles and headlines will also have to be written. And there are definitely article types (food critic, for example) that I’m not overly familiar with.

If you’re interested, please hit me up on tumblr (http://backwardspants.tumblr.com) or here. I may or may not create a separate tumblr account for this, I’m not sure. But seriously, if this sounds like something you’d be at all interested in collaborating on- even if it’s just to peruse the final product and offer suggestions, that’d be awesome!

PS- For those with a memory of such things, no, I have not forgotten about my Ezio diary project- it's just sitting in the heap with all of the other projects of the moment.  But...it is at the top of that heap and I have put some work into it- so probably by the time Assassins Creed: 8 comes out, it should be ready to go.

The long awaited, highly anticipated, hotly debated 2011 Snow Flurries Draft review

I'm bored out of my mind right now.  B-O-R-D.  But fear not, faithful reader- out of the ashes of my boredom will rise a blog post so revolutionary, so insightful, that it will literally make you do a double-take, rub your eyes, and question everything you ever thought you knew.  It will lead to the end of unemployment, the abolishment of partisan politics, and will lay the first cobble stones on the long, hard road to world peace.

You might be asking yourself what I could possibly be going to the well for in order to achieve all of this.  Well ask not, friends, as clearly I'm going to be reviewing my 2011 Fantasy Football draft. 

As you remember from when I used to write about Fantasy Football back in 2011, this past season was the absolute pinnacle of my young career.  I won the league's regular season so easily that I had to manufacture drama behind the scenes to keep my guys interested (I still haven't had the heart to tell Mike Williams that Sabastian Janikowski is not a cannibal that will eat him if he continues to suck).

In many ways, I feel like a first time father, only this is actually your third child but you're so disappointed in the first two that you just pretend that they don't exist.  I'm proud of this season- I drafted pretty well.  I played the waiver-wire like a pro.  I (mostly) avoided injuries.  Of course, I didn't completely avoid injuries, which is why I'm not coming to you today as the People's champ.

I don't need something insignificant like championship recognition to validate my success this year.  This season was sweet, sweet retribution for the pain and bitter defeat of my whole freaking wretched pathetic miserable existence the last two seasons.  I've seen fire, and I've seen rain.  And even though I'm not sure what in the heck James Taylor is talking about, I'm sure his words are very apt to the moment.
Anyways, that's enough out of me.  Here's my draft review.  In a nod to draft reviews past, I will give comment about my preseason thoughts, my season thoughts, and my moving-forward thoughts- and without even saying a word you will know which is which.  Because that is how awesome you are (guided there, of course, by my benevolent hand). 

1 Tom Brady, QB, New England- I don't expect him to put up the ridiculous numbers that he did last year.  And I was right- he didn't put up the ridiculous numbers that he did last year.  He put up even better numbers.  Three more TDs and 1,000+ more yards (plus 3 TDs on the ground).  Sure, his INTs went up as well- but that's like complaining about Eve's shortcomings as an actress. 

Sure, you're cute- but I want to see inside your soul

If I have my way, this guy will retire as a North Michigan Snow Flurry.

2 Darren McFadden, RB, Oakland- Question- is a no.2 pick a good place to draft a guy who has only had one good season and spent much of his career being hurt? Answer- No, but my other RBs performed so well that it really didn't matter that Run-DMC missed over half of the season.  That said, if I didn't have his handcuff Michael Bush, we'd be talking in a completely different tone right now.  The kind of tone where you move slowly away from the computer and immediately call the authorities (or the tabloids).  I can't honestly see myself picking D-Mac any sooner than the fifth round, which means I'll probably nab him by the third. 

3 Matt Forte, RB, Chicago- I have a huge soft spot for RBs that are versatile. Indeed, Forte's versatility within the Bears offense made him an invaluable member of my squad in the early weeks (and a solid one from the midpoint until his injury).  He had just 4 total TDs on the year and only eclipsed the 70 yard rushing mark (I am not above using mediocrity as a benchmark) five times on the year- yet his ability to be involved in the passing game contributed to his 10.2 PPG average.  Sadly, his late season injury (as well as DeMarco Murray's) kept me from tasting the Championship rainbow.  Potential keeper (depending on how that injury plays out), there will always be a spot at the Snow Flurry table for my friend Mr. Forte. 

4 Mike Williams, WR, Tampa Bay- I drafted [Mike Williams]because he scored 11 TDs last year.  I almost [pushed Mike Williams] off of a cliff this year because he only scored 3 TDs and about 1,000 less yards than in 2010 (300- but it might as well have been 1,000).  He was like the Bizarro Tom Brady, like Eve if she could act like Kate Winslet but looked like this:

But you should never call someone ugly if they have a bow and arrow.

If I had to pick between drafting Mike Williams next year and being set on fire, I'd probably draft Mike Williams- but not before asking a series of clarifying questions.

5 Beanie Wells, RB, Arizona- What better way to have a scapegoat than to have a bruising RB from Ohio State named Beanie, coming off of a monster sub-400 yard, 2 TD season, be your number 5 pick? Remember the song "What Might Have Been?" by Little Texas?  One of my favorite non-love love songs.  That's Beanie Wells' 2011 season to me- if he could have stayed healthy (and got consistently QB play), he could have been The Boss.  As is, he had just enough stinkers to make me always question my choice to play him, tempered with enough WOW games to make me want to build my team around him.   And that's why I'll probably take a stab at him next year at some point- especially if the Cardinals get Peyton Manning- and subsequently spend the 2012 season wondering just what in the hell I was thinking.

6 Brandon Lloyd, WR, Denver- Interesting factoid that I found after doing some post-draft research- Brandon Lloyd was on NFL.com's Top Ten Players Most Likely To Be A Bust list.  I really don't know if he was a bust, because I traded him way early in the season.  (Goes to check his stats).  Huh.  Well, I guess he was the 24th highest scoring WR, so he wasn't a bust per se.  However, I parlayed him into Michael Bush, so for a sixth round pick, this panned out much better than I could have imagined.  Definitely much better than my #2 pick, anyways.  I'd probably give him a shot if he's available in a nice low-round somewhere. 

7 Mario Manningham, WR, New York (Giants)- If Steve Smith did, in fact, vanish into the Bermuda Triangle (as my sources have sort of confirmed but it was probably somebody else), then I expect Manningham to get a lot more touches in the passing game.  Well Steve Smith resurfaced in Philadelphia of all places, but Mario got hurt and all of those extra touches seemed to go to Victor Cruz.  I picked up Cruz before anyone else did, but that's beside the point.  I drafted Manningham and got left with the remnants.  Life is so unfair  Manningham could conceivably find himself in a Snow Flurry uniform sometime in the future. 

8 Sam Bradford, QB, St. Louis- I feel like he'll have a phenomenal year, and gives me great insurance against Brady getting hurt.  Okay, so every single iffy decision up to this point can at least be tempered with a yeahbut.  As in, "Yeah, but he got hurt".  Sure, Bradford got hurt too- but this guy fell so far, so fast that he went from 'great insurance policy against Brady getting hurt' to getting 'Oh my God I can't believe I cut Cam Newton to keep this guy'-released just to wash the stink out of my mouth.  I will not, will not draft you Sam.  Or eat Green Eggs and Ham.

9 Brandon Jacobs, RB, New York (Giants)- What I do know is that Jacobs is a solid bye week/injury replacement.  And he probably would have been.  Of course, in the early weeks of the season, my RB situation was so solid that I could afford to play around with the waiver wire, and so Jacobs only made it to week 4 before being coldly let go into.  Sorry man- nothing personal, just business.  And it will be just business when I stay away from you like you just shook hands with a dude who touches pig guts for a living.  Oh yeah, that was a spoiler.

10 Jimmy Graham, TE, New Orleans- I think this guy could be a potential steal at the TE position.  Seriously- a potential steal?  Jimmy Graham was so far in the steal category that the Leonardo DiCaprio was notified.  I mean, this guy put up WR numbers!  Seriously, if I could have played 2 TEs this year, I probably would have gone undefeated and spent the entire offseason writing blog posts about how I plucked Jimmy Graham out of the air, gave him wings, and told him he could fly.  If Jimmy isn't a keeper for next year, it's because he has been betrothed to one of my top draft picks. 

11 Ravens Defense- They do still have Ed Reed, right?  Yup, and even though Reed wasn't the wicked insane playmaker of yesteryear, he still helped the Ravens D to a respectable showing.  As long as Ed Reed is still playing, I will always give the Raven's D a thought. 

12 Jordy Nelson, WR, Green Bay- I expect big things out of Jordy this year- even if his first name is 'Jordy'.  With all due respect to Mr. Graham, and dorky name not withstanding, Jordy is without a doubt my top pick of 2011.  Jordy had a monster 2k11.  MONSTER.  Even though Aaron Rodgers had quite possibly the deepest receiving corps in league history, he always seemed to make sure that my man Jordy got his.  Indeed, Jordy Nelson ended the year as the #2 scoring WR in our league.  Quite possibly this is the biggest surprise in world history- even more surprising than Rich Gannon being named NFL MVP that one time in the dark ages (2002).  While Jordy isn't going to be a keeper, I guarantee I'm going to start hunting for him much earlier than round 12 next year.

13 Mike Williams, WR, Seattle- I got a valuable 2nd/3rd receiver who will probably be "The Man" on a bad Seattle team.  I got a useless 4th/5th receiver who (for various reasons) had more games of zero points (9) than he did with points (7).  And it's not like he was lighting up the scoreboard when he did score- check out these numbers: 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 6, 9.  Mike wasn't with me for very long, but the residual blast from this whiff was so bad that Rob Deer felt bad for me.  The Mike Williams experience is over.

14 Greg Olsen, TE, Carolina- Olsen has been solid, and playing for a bad team starting a rookie QB, I imagine that he'll see his fair share of targets.  Olsen did have a solid enough 2011, but with Graham and Gronk logging all of my TE playing time, there was literally no room for Olsen on the field.  Also, whole security-blanket-for-rookie-QB-on-bad-team gig that I was banking on never really took off.  Since apparently Cam Newton is Superman.  You were essentially a one-night stand, Greg- and it wasn't even that great of a night.  So I'll probably forget you.

15 Patriots Defense-It's a Bill Belichick 'D. It has to be good, right? Or at least, serviceable? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.  Yeah, uh-huh, SURE.    HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.  You're kidding, right?

16 Neil Rackers, K, Houston- You're going to read my postseason champions speech, see how I deftly nabbed Neil Rackers in the 16th round, and be amazed.  Neil was a phenom at the K position for me, I'm not even kidding.  Even though I dropped him about half-way through and didn't end up winning the championship, you should still be amazed.  I treat my kickers just like I treat creditors- I never make a commitment before they're calling non-stop and threatening legal action. 

17 Steve Breaston, WR, Kansas City-The only reason I picked Steve is because I still have Fantasy Football feelings for Dwayne Bowe, and I want someone on the inside who can let me know how he's doing- and let him know that I still care, and I'll treasure our magical autumn forever.  After I scored D Bowe in my concubine league, I had no reason to keep Breaston.  So I didn't.  The end.

18 New York (Giants) Defense- Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.  Yup.  That settles that. 

19 Cam Newton, QB, Carolina- Rookie. Hehehe ROOKie- I'll probably never play this guy. I don't think he'll do very well. I just thought it'd be cool to take the first overall pick of the NFL draft with the next-to-last pick of the fantasy draft. Teach this kid a little humility. Make him work a little bit. Here on the Snow Flurries, you aren't just handed a starting spot because of your draft accolades- you gotta earn it.  Wow.  Just wow.  If I had kept Newton instead of, say, oh, I don't know....SAM BRADFORD, then I'd probably be writing this blog somewhere on Main Street in the middle of a confetti shower and hundreds of hot chicks screaming my Championship name.  Instead I'm sleeping with the fleas and cockroaches in the alley of Third Place wiping the specks of food out of my Not-Championship 5 o'clock shadow.

I mean, yeah, Cam blindsided all of us.  No one knew he was going to explode on the scene in the fashion that he did.  But still...he was on my team.  MY TEAM.  I drafted him.  Ran him through the drills.  Let him run the plays.  Sent the equipment manager to have him come see me- and to make sure he brought his playbook.  I was his genesis, his beginning- his very existence in the Center League was because of me.  I should have known.  Right?  It doesn't matter.  Because I have literally 0% chance of getting Cam Newton next year. 

What might have been, indeed.
 
Eve-http://www.pwpix.net/superstars/e/evetorres/images/eve-torres-4.jpg
Jack Black- http://www.stomptokyo.com/reelopinions/images/nacho3.jpg

Still alive, mostly

Hello world,

I don't really have anything to say right now.  It's just that time of year, when I go for a long spell without any communication and then all of a sudden *POOF* into existence again to give you your quarterly fix of Jason Parks.

I realize I'm way behind on things- my Fantasy Football wrap up still is waiting in the wings.  Unfortunately I have no real time table for them- creatively I'm running on the fumes of 2010 here, so I can't promise when I might be so inspired as to deliver my usual Grade-A-wesomeness in literary form. 

Life has been ridiculously busy.  I'm basically working 7 days a week- which for you math majors out there means that yes, I am working every single day.  I have periodic days off at the school (thanks God for those snow days a few weeks ago), but I'll have a consistently full schedule until the summer.  While that will be good for our bank account, it won't be as good for my blog account.  Of course, that's what the world cares about.  Right?

Honestly, today is the first time I've thought about my blog in a couple weeks.  So I suppose that me writing this is perhaps a step in a positive direction towards reconnecting with myself in the arena of words.  Or maybe I just had a spark of inspiration that will just as quickly fizzle into nothingness.  Stay tuned!

Lately I've been watching professional wrestling, which is good for the soul.  It makes me feel like a man to watch muscled dudes confront other muscled dudes and wear tiny clothing and jump around and beat each other up.  I'm pretty sure my testosterone levels have gone through the roof.  One really cool thing that's come out of my newest craze is the wrestling video game I bought has enabled me to connect with my kids.

Yes, you read that correctly.  A wrestling video game has deepened the parent-child bond in the Parks household.

See, I downloaded some previously created wrestlers that you might have heard of- Incredible Hulk.  Thor.  Spider-man.  Superman.  Captain America.  Batman.  No, they aren't wrestlers in the traditional sense.  But someone made them for a wrestling game, and I downloaded them, and now I have tons of fun watching Royal Rumbles involving the Avengers.  How cool is that!  Plus, I give them all custom theme songs that my kids are growing attached to.  Do you know how deeply it warms my heart to have my children request that we listen to 'Walk' by Pantera in the car before school?

IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU KNOW (sorry.  Channeling my inner The Rock there). 

Anyways, that's what I've been up to.  Work and wrestling.  As time frees up, interests will vary and I'll begin writing again in earnest.  I anxiously await your waiting with bated breath.

Love you all!

Bi-polarness

Apologies for future ramblings.  But I haven't sat down at a computer with the intention to write since New Years day- pretty much exclusively because I haven't felt like it.  At all.  But this morning I got that gust of inspiration (which went away almost as quickly as it came) and so here I find myself banging on the keypad trying to reincarnate that three minutes of my shower where the words were flowing in my brain like something that flows (see?  Gone.  Just like that.).

I think my whole moment of inspiration thing started because I was thinking about how much I just haven't had the writing bug lately.  So then I started thinking about how last year at this time, I was trying to write a blog every day.  Then I started thinking about how meaningless calendars are in the grand scheme, but how they help us here and now to give our lives order and help us make sense of the chaos.

Then I thought about how I'm sort of bi-polar.  How sometimes I'm manic about something and then it just goes away.  I started to think about all of the things I have talked about in my blog with such certainty that haven't come to fruition- and some of them that I've flat-out contradicted.  Then I thought about how I myself am a walking contradiction.  See when I worked at TFH, I realized over time that I had many of the presenting symptoms that the kids in our homes did.  Sure, I didn't smear poop on the wall or call my bosses "f*cking b*tches"- but there were many things that I had in common with those kids (or had in common when I was a kid.  Because clearly I grew up and became a model citizen). 

I am guarded- but sometimes I put myself out there too far.  I can think critically- but sometimes I am too quick to suspend disbelief and trust too easily.  I enjoy spending time with people- but sometimes I want nothing to do with anybody.

So what am I saying?  Nothing really.  Like I said, the inspiration to write quickly left.  But after weeks of nothing, it was nice to have that pot stirred again, and so hopefully even writing these few paragraphs of random nothingness will help keep sparking those inspired seconds and I can resume bringing you the unadulterated awesomeness that you are probably quite used to.

A letter to 2012

To 2012,

Hey there 2k12.  We just met, and I know you probably have a lot of questions about me.  Quite frankly I'm not sure how much I want to share, since everybody tells me that you're likely going to end up killing me at some point in December.  I hope the rumors aren't true and that we can develop a mutually beneficial and amicable relationship. 

I'm sure that you talked to 2011 last night, and I'm fine with that.  I don't have much to say about 2011-  2011 wasn't particularly bad or good, she was just there.  Probably the worst fall I've ever had (saved merely by the fact that both of my kids started school), but we had a wonderful summer and even though she didn't give me much snow in December, she did give me a white Christmas.  So that was something.

Well, maybe 'wonderful summer' is a bit strong.  It was light years ahead of 2010's summer.  We did a lot of fun things as a family, hung out with some cool people.  But we did most of it with no money coming in while I was in-between jobs.  That was pretty rough.  Brutal, in fact.  Definitely the biggest personal financial crisis of my life.

I'm hoping that you help me out with that, 2012.  See, I got this new job a few weeks ago- and I'm loving it.  LOVING it.  Sure, it's not a cushy 9-5, Monday-Friday desk job- but it's the next best thing.  It's at a school, working with children who have developmental disabilities.  I know this might sound crazy, but it's been a lot of fun.  Tiring, yes, and definitely with some stress potential, but I think that'll be minimized by the fact that I work directly with some amazing ladies and the team at the school seems to be phenomenal.  I seriously feel like this is the best place I've ever worked.

I'm really worried though- because it seems like for me, good things are always a 'one step forward two steps back' affair.  See before working there I had an opportunity that I thought was surefire at this one place, and it was going to give us some more money...and it fell through.  It fell through hard.  We-almost-didn't-recover hard, and in many ways we're still recovering.  Now I've been able to move past that, and I have this terrific opportunity.  So please, 2012, don't blow it for me.

See 2010 and 2011 were nice enough years and I'm sure they meant well- they just didn't really know me and my family, who we are, what we were going through- and they just sort of treated us like numbers.  Which makes sense, because they're just numbers and so why shouldn't they treat us like numbers?  I mean, I'm a person and I'm treating them like a person, so what do I expect, eh?

The problem is that exactly that though- we aren't just numbers, we're people.  People with feelings.  People who are scratching and clawing, trying desperately to make it on our own, to make our way in the world, to do something of note, something that will make some sort of impact.  To do that, we need money.  Yes, money is just numbers on paper- but those numbers on that paper can surprisingly bring peace of mind.  Not everlasting bliss, just the bliss of not having to worry about bouncing a check to buy toilet paper.

2011 realized that- in the end.  It learned from 2010s mistakes (kind of late, but hey it's better than never), started treating me decently and lo and behold- I get to meet you, 2012!  Sure, there's a chance that I might spend all year with you only to have you destroy me.  But there's also a chance that you'll see the great things that 2011 and I did and aspire for more.  There's a chance that you'll remember that I'm a person who hurts and bleeds and can be broken- and that you'll want to keep those things from happening to me.

At least until December.

Signed with hope,

Jason