Adam Oster's Blog, page 29

Father’s Day Sale!

Hey folks, I’ve been told this weekend is Father’s Day.  And what better way to celebrate the day made just for me than to put all my books up for completely free for the entire weekend.

That’s right, today through Monday, you can get each and every one of my books for free.

Got a father on your list who needs to just sit back and enjoy a read on his favorite ereader?  Guess what books go best with sitting in a hammock drinking a cold beer on a hot day!

That’s right, the wonderful adventure novels by yours truly.

And there’s a little secret I should share with you…They’re not just great for dads.  Everyone can enjoy.  And everyone should.

Go get them now!

Just a quick note, this link will take you to my Amazon page which shows all books I’m listed as an author on.  Due to the nature of the anthology series I have contributed to, those are not currently free.  But everything else, go wild!

 

Fat Mogul vs. Thumbs

My youngest is really good at counting.  He can’t figure out colors for the life of him, but counting is something he’s been solid at for a while.  And he loves to count.  I’ll often find him going through items and listing off how many items he’s gone through up to that point.  Now, he’s two, so I’m pretty sure he can’t quite make it to twenty, but I can say for certain he’s solid up to 14.

And he loves to verify his knowledge of quantities.  He’ll look at me during mealtime and point at his food and tell me, I have two broccolis.  And he’ll repeatedly tell me until I verify that yes, he does have two broccolis.  Then he’ll eat one and ask me how many he has left…because, I think he thinks I need help with my numbers.

So, yesterday, we were sitting around doing whatever we were doing on a rainy day to keep the kids busy, and he holds up his hand to me and asks how many fingers he’s holding up.  He opened and closed his fingers constantly so as to make the number impossible to tell correctly before it would change again.

Which I relayed to him the insurmountable task he had given me, and he finally held up two fingers and said, “is this two fingers, dada?”

I counted to verify.  Counted again, just to make sure he wasn’t tricking me.  And yes, they most certainly were just two.

Then he opened his hand completely and said, “is this four fingers, dada?”

And my response was a stammered one.

Because, of course, like Pluto, the thumb is in a weird place.  It’s sort of a finger, but sort of not.  Just look at Mirriam-Webster’s take.  “Each of the five…” and “especially: one other than the thumb”.

This is because the thumb is quite different than the rest of the fingers.  In fact, many animals have fingers, but so few have these wondrous opposable appendages we call thumbs.

Ultimately, because I didn’t want to get in a huge debate with him over the difference between thumbs and fingers, and I definitely didn’t want to get the question wrong and thereby prove his theory that my math skills are lacking, I told him, No…but I may have put a bit of a question mark at the end of that, in case he was caught up on his phalanges classifications.

He looked at his hand and realized he had held up more than he had intended and worked those digits until he could get just four up, and tested me yet again.

I’m happy to say I passed.

But the question remains, at what point do we teach our children the reality here?  Should we press on under the false pretense that they have ten fingers when, in reality, there are only eight?  Schools teach we only have 8 planets now, even though Pluto is a dwarf planet…I mean, it still has the word planet in its classification.  We don’t generally refer to our thumb as a thumb finger, do we?

In the end, I was too tired to go over toe science at that point, especially with the other two kids in hearing distance, which would mean I would have to go into great details about how the thumb isn’t exactly a finger, but the big toe is still a toe, even though they both have only two phalanges, while the rest of our digits have three.  And then, inevitably, this would bring us to the necessary discussion about the old episode of the Dick van Dyke show where everyone lost their thumbs and couldn’t even do things as simple as typing.

So, I’ve decided to go about continuing the false premise of the ten finger theory.  But I’ve also chosen to keep them under the faith that Pluto is still a planet as well

Fat Mogul vs. Man-splaining

To start, I want to note that I recognize the irony which is to follow.  As a man, who, in part, is about to explain man-splaining, I am, of course, falling victim to what many claim as man-splaining.

And, that, my friends, is part of the issue I wish to discuss today.

But for the uninitiated, allow me to take a moment to man-splain man-splaining for you.

It’s a trendy term used to describe a man condescendingly explaining something, generally to a woman.  As in, “I’m reading a blog post from Adam Oster man-splaining man-splaining.”  It actually, in its most concise definition, includes the idea that the man has incomplete knowledge about what they are mansplaining, while assuming he knows more about it than his audience.

While it’s certainly not my intention to be condescending here, I can admit that my knowledge of the term’s usage and needs has its holes.  But I’m not exactly here to tell you to stop using the word (even if I bristle with every new trendy portmanteau we start using today).  I simply want us to lock the definition down a bit.

As an expression of a specific type of sexism, it does have its place.  Although I may have joked above about how to use mansplaining in a sentence, the reality is that there are men out there who think their knowledge of any subject is superior to a woman’s simply because of what’s between their legs.

And it’s a real problem.  Those who are still surprised that women could be responsible for the calculations which took people to the moon still exist today.  The old riddle about a man and his son being in a car accident and the doctor saying they can’t operate on the kid because, “That’s my son!” can still throw people off who don’t recognize that women can be doctors as well.

And it doesn’t even need to be that big of a misunderstanding of the capabilities of women to allow a man to become a man-splainer.

But here’s my issue.  Today, the word man-splainer can often be attached to any explanation a man might perform.

To use an easy example, here’s a clip from a recent episode of Modern Family:

Now, Manny’s ‘mansplanation’ of man-splaining is when a man explains something to a woman something which she already knows, which, is a bit more open-ended of a definition.  For this definition, a man would have be to fully aware of the entire knowledge of a woman.  Considering how few men even know how to approach a woman for a conversation, well…mansplaining would then just become a discussion about how dumb men are, instead of a label of a sexism.

But the important takeaway from the clip is that Manny, a person who consistently treats women with respect and regularly notes their achievements, is labeled a mansplainer because he misunderstood what subject Danielle’s pronoun was referring to.  And to be fair to Manny, she could have been a lot more clear on what she was looking for clarification on.

Now, obviously the clip was just the set up for the joke, “Are you mansplaining mansplaining?”, but the usage of the term sometimes doesn’t stray too far from what went on here.  And here’s where I see the danger in a label like mansplaining.  In the above clip, Manny, who was simply attempting to have a discussion, is labeled sexist because he misread the situation.  He wasn’t being condescending.  He wasn’t acting superior.  He simply answered a question he thought was being asked.

And she replies with a hurtful term which suggests he is treating her as less than an equal.

I’ve seen this a lot lately, where this term, which should be considered a hurtful term, is used in the manner with which Manny defines it above.  Where the man is unnecessarily explaining something because the woman already knew the answer.  Whereas the man himself may simply be attempting to be helpful, the woman is labeling him a misogynist.

Which, at the heart of it, means Manny is being labeled a sexist simply because he is a man.  Had Manny done anything else to suggest he thinks women are inferior to men?

Sexism is a sensitive subject.  I’m more than fully aware of that.  And it’s rampant.  You don’t have to look very far to find compelling statistics to showcase the inequalities between men and women in the world today.  You can search even less to find examples of a man treating a woman as inferior.

And as I stated earlier, man-splaining is certainly an actual occurrence.  It can be difficult to call out, however.  In the above example from Modern Family, they were at a feminist rally.  If there’s one place where a term like man-splaining should be common knowledge, it would be there.  Therefore, Danielle could be right in feeling that this was a man talking down to her, as if he was saying, “I understand feminism more than you”.

At the same time, Danielle could have recognized how she hadn’t been clear in what she was looking for clarification on.  Instead, she instantly judged the boy based on his gender.

Additionally, Manny’s definition was far from accurate, meaning he has an incomplete knowledge of the subject…but I still don’t see that he answers due to thinking he knows more about the subject than the female in the conversation.

And this is where I get down to the meat of my point here.  I’m not here to tell anyone what to do. If you want to label every man as a mansplainer, go right ahead.  But there is an important message behind the term.  One which gets lost when you label every man as such, instead of calling out a very specific form of sexism.

Of course, there is another side to this coin.  Our current environment has led us to a place where its easy to feel every man is sexist.  There’s some good reason for that.  But oversimplifying such things can be dangerous, as it causes the true message to be lost.  It can actually impede progress.  Let’s say Manny were to continue his life, attempting to side with women, and to have them constantly label him a sexist.  Considering the type of kid he is, I’m sure he would do plenty of self-evaluation, and even come up with ways in which he could treat women even further as an equal, although, with him, I have a hard time believing he has much more he could do.  But if he were to continue, after all of his efforts, to be labeled a sexist, how hard would it be for him to begin considering women as the enemy?  If no matter what he does, he’s still being called the enemy, wouldn’t it be easy for him to fall into that same trap?

Mansplaining, as it is often used today, quickly becomes a hurtful stereotype.  It becomes a sexist label.  Do men have the right to get mad about being treated as an inferior, considering their history of doing such to women?  Not really.  I mean, everyone technically has the right to get mad about mistreatment, but the male gender certainly has it coming to them from years of doing it to women.  But the real question here is, is it helping or is it hurting?

I believe that when mansplaining is being used correctly, such as with the person who is often attributed as coining the term talked about how a man “mansplained” her own book to her.  It’s highlighting an act which needs to be highlighted so people realize it’s there and can work to be better about it and, ultimately, can bring the two genders closer together…in theory.

Here’s a good example of mansplaining (which I think highlights the dangers of this article I’m writing right now quite well):

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In case you can’t read it, here’s the text of the mansplaining part of the exchange:

“Dear Amy: You used the word “mansplaining” in your reply to “Perplexed.”  I don’t think it means what you think it means.

Mansplaining is a sexist word used by feminists to shut down any debate with a man if they think they can’t win their argument.

Your use of it in your column is offensive to anyone who is capable of a logical discussion.

If you read the reply, you’ll find another different definition given for mansplaining. Amy’s definition is much more specific than the one I suggest as the standard (simply because it’s what I got from Mirriam-Webster…who were both men, so maybe I should find a better source?) and takes it to be about men explaining ideas and concepts to women which were initiated by women.

So, the definition is currently difficult to pin down.  Everyone seems to have their own version.  This certainly can aid in the overuse of the term.  It can also cause a great deal of confusion for the man who is being labeled as such.

I’ve had the label used against me.  A few times.  And each time I’ve had to consider whether it is a label I deserve or if it is, as I feel it is, just because I have a tendency to awkwardly overexplain myself due to my inability to believe anyone actually understands me, not that anyone is incapable of understanding the subjects I’m referring to.

But then again, I am a man.  And perhaps I’m still blinded to how society has brought me up.  Perhaps I don’t even realize that I talk to women differently.

And those questions above are why I fully believe it is important to use care when applying the term mansplaining to the acts of someone.  Yes, I think all of us could use the opportunity to review our actions through the eyes of another.  Being called a mansplainer should, for all men, give them an opportunity to search themselves to see what they are doing.  But at the same time, it can cause a man to feel like the enemy.  And although there is a certain image presented of feminism attempting to make man the enemy, feminism is truly about equality.  I suppose I’m treading a fine road there by attempting to define feminism, but isn’t that the case?  To help men see women as the equals they are?  To change the way the world works to ensure that women are actually treated and immediately presumed to be equal to men?

In conclusion, I know I’m a man and that simply because I’m a man, I’m in danger of mansplaining at any moment…like during the previous 1700+ words. But I think for the term to hold the power it should hold, there may need to be more specifics applied to the application of it.

And men, treat women with respect. I know sometimes things like this may feel like you’re coming under fire simply for attempting to be helpful, but reflect on your own actions, even if you’ve never been labeled with a term of misogyny.  This isn’t saying you can’t hold a door open for a woman or offer to pay for a date.  It’s simply saying that should you choose to do such things, it shouldn’t be because you think the woman is less capable of holding a door open than yourself.  It’s saying that previous gender roles shouldn’t be the rule anymore and if a woman wants to open her own door, just let her.

Or, more to the point, men, you don’t always have to be the smartest person in the room.  If a woman is an expert in a given field, a field that you have maybe an amateur interest in, let her be the expert.  Learn from her.  Don’t push down her knowledge simply because she’s a woman.

 

 

 

Jack to the Future – Introduction

After releasing the first chapter of Jack to the Future online, I realized I should probably include some sort of introduction on here about this new project.

Jack to the Future is a silly little story I’ve had rattling around in my head for a while, but it was one I really just didn’t think would work in a true novel format.  It’s goofy, it probably deals with some severe copyright infringement, and, ultimately, it’s just really goofy.

Which is why this story will be completely released, as I write it, here on the blog.  My intention is to release a new chapter weekly.

Of course, when releasing a book as its being written, there will be changes occurring to previous bits as I realize something which may have been missed.  My intention is to keep these to a minimum, utilizing the story as is in order to keep from requiring people to read back to see what may have been changed as time goes on.

I say that, but then at the same time, shortly after releasing the first chapter, I realized I completely missed the very important hook which was intended to complete the chapter.  Where the chapter as published ended with just having Jack standing on his porch attempting to figure out where the time had gone, here is the additional tag which was supposed to be there, and really wouldn’t fit within the confines of the second chapter.  It’s been updated in the original post, but for those who may have already read it, I’ll duplicate it here:

A loud roaring sounded from the end of the street.  Jack looked toward the source and saw a vehicle barreling down the road in his direction.

It stopped in front of his house and the driver’s side door opened, but when it opened, the door went up instead of out.  And out of it stepped Wade, with an enormous grin on his face.

“Jack, you’ve got to come back with me!” Wade shouts as he runs from the DeLorean to his brother’s side.

“Where?”

“Back to the butcher!”

As is obvious even from this brief selection, this is not my most refined or sophisticated work.  But I think, should you decide to come along for the ride, you should have a truly spectacular time.

Also, since I’m writing this as I’m publishing it, there are certain to be editorial errors.  I’ll clean them up as I find them when going back through things, but if you ever want to feel like a smarty pants, go ahead and call me on them.  I’ll totally appreciate it

Book Review: Arise by Eric Lahti

I happened upon the first book in the Henchmen series (called, appropriately, Henchmen), a while back and absolutely fell in love with the idea of seeing the whole supervillain side of things not just from the bad guy’s perspective, but from those nondescript guys who help the bad guys.

Of course, Steven is not quite full on matching outfit army of drone henchman, he’s more of a second in command, but all the same, it gave an entirely new perspective to see what might cause these droves of people to follow someone who, to the good guy perspective, wants to watch the world burn.

And so, after reading the first one, I snatched up the second one right away…and have been sitting on it, waiting for it to rise to the top of my queue for months.

And, I have to tell you, the wait was worth it.

Where Henchmen was a solid fun look at the tropes of supervillainy, Arise is a look at what the future might hold for a humble little henchman should he play his cards right.

And Steven, it would seem, is doing a mighty fine job of playing his cards right.

This book takes off shortly after the first one ends, where the world is now reeling from the destruction of Congress, while also now living in a reality that this god, Dreamer, is on the loose.

Arise takes a giant leap forward from its predecessor in how Lahti builds his world and fills it with a whole host of creatures and gods and secret societies.  His world is living, growing, melding, and you can’t help but envision how the greater world is still trying to move on from the events of the first book.

But what’s most spectacular, in my mind at least, is how Steven grows throughout the course of this sequel.  There was some dynamics to his character in the first book, but here we seem him become fully immersed in this world he only had a glimpse of in the original.  And not only that, but become a fully integral piece of it.  A cornerstone to something he hadn’t even fully known existed until quite recently.

This book is a great read for those who love to see fresh takes on old concepts, while also appreciates fully developed characters who have actual motivations behind their actions, instead of just being used to push the plot forward.

I’d highly recommend it.

Buy it now!

Fat Mogul vs. Science

A few years back, I found myself in the midst of a conversation about the troubles with a Christian education.  Specifically, the person was noting how much harm Christians are causing their children by teaching them things such as the earth being only 6,000 years old.  The item to be inferred from these statements was that these kids are going to be set back from the rest of the world because of being taught such things.

As someone who was brought up in a fundamentalist Christian environment and didn’t attend a public institution until I was 23, I found myself getting a little riled up by this concept.

Not because of the idea that these kids might be being taught the wrong thing.  I’m not willing to debate whether science or religion have it right.  Mostly, because I don’t really care.

No, my issue was with the idea that I was any less prepared for the world because of what I was taught regarding its inception.

I’ll admit that I may not have a strong grasp on which period came first between the Jurassic and the Cretaceous.  I’m pretty sure alligators and sharks have been around since before there were amoebas climbing out of the primordial ooze.  And although I understand the concept of survival of the fittest bringing us to the species we have today, I really haven’t been able to grasp what causes the genetic changes which are required for an evolutionary change to come into place.

But has it set me back in any way?

Okay, so, maybe this isn’t being entirely fair.  I don’t work within any sort of scientific field, so its relation to my day to day is going to be incredibly minimal.  Jesus didn’t say anything about Excel spreadsheets, so my introduction to them was pretty much the same as anyone else’s.

Perhaps the idea in this person’s head was simply that there would be a huge knowledge gap for someone coming out of a private Christian-education institution who wanted to go into the fields of science.  To make the case even stronger, I’ll focus on the biological sciences.

And as I sit here today and write this, I can’t help but wonder how much catch up would come into play here.  Biology is primarily concerned with current biology, , unless they are specifically in the fields which look toward the history and future of biology.

Which means that, yes, I think that if a person were to go into the fields in which they were going to specifically study things such as the inception of the universe (which does cross many sciences lines, including geology, biology, and even physics), they could find themselves not having all of the information their non-fundamentalist Christian educated counterparts might have.  Well, you know, until they get into college anyways.

But there’s a piece to consider here as well.  Should someone be interested in going into those specific fields of study, they would have an interest in that specific field of study, meaning that they should probably have done some additional research outside of whatever might have been taught in their middle school or high school courses on the matter.

 

But of course, I’m not involved in the sciences at all, so I could be missing something really important.  If someone were involved in studying DNA, there is a great likelihood that they would need to understand the history of DNA, instead of just knowing how it exists today.   I’m not in the field, so I can’t say.  (There were some very unintentional rhymes going on there…)

So, when musing on this today, I had to bring to my internal conversation the idea that there may be pieces of evolutionary science or other pieces of knowledge regarding the inception of the universe, which would directly play into the efforts of any person who works in the scientific fields.

(I’m going to take a second here to note that there are sects within Christianity which may ignore other scientific discoveries, such as climate change, or even, when talking about groups such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses, medical science. Heck, you could even take the Amish to this conversation if you really wanted.  I’m going to focus on discussions regarding universe inception and evolution here, but I think following my next line of thinking may be allowed to apply to all such debates.)

So, is it possible that coming from a fundamentalist Christian education background that a person going into the scientific fields may be lacking knowledge that their classmates may hold.  Certainly.  I can’t debate that.  I could go on to debate that there are other folks who may have similar struggles because of the quality of education in their public school system.  But instead, I have a different question.

Could it actually be considered better for science, should someone with this background, who firmly holds these beliefs, decide to join the fields in which this information directly applies?

Looking through history, some of the greatest scientific achievements completely changed what we thought we knew as fact.  What if Nicolaus Copernicus simply accepted current scientific fact as truth?  How much longer would it have taken for the scientific community to accept heliocentrism?  As it was, it still took quite a while.  Until the 1700s there were still scientists who believed in the concept of spontaneous generation, that, if given enough sunlight, life could come from the mud or other inanimate objects, simply because they saw maggots suddenly appear in things like meat.  Einstein’s theory of relativity itself has the concept of a static universe calculated into it. However, most scientists today believe the universe to be ever expanding.

Heck, when I was a kid, dinosaurs looked more like lizards.  Now they look like birds.

Here’s my point.  Scientific discovery, at its very core, requires an understanding that every single thing we know about the universe could be wrong. It’s why so many of our scientific explanations of the universe are still considered theories, as opposed to natural law (such as those developed by Newton).  Einstein theorized nothing can go faster than the speed of light.  This is something we hold true.  And will hold true until the moment we find something that can go faster.

Can anyone definitively state there is absolutely no possible way we will ever find anything in this whole universe which will go faster than the speed of light?  Until we’ve logged and cataloged everything in the universe, no, we can’t.  There’s still some possibility of something being out there which could go faster.

The Theory of General Relativity is a model for how the universe works.  It’s a way of explaining things based on the way we see them today.  Models are intended to be tweaked, to be changed.  And they are, quite often.

Of course, we use pieces of Einstein’s theory today for things like our GPS units (or so I’ve been told), so obviously pieces of it works.  So did the models of the solar system before heliocentrism…although they were quite complex, comparatively speaking.

Science needs opposing viewpoints.  If everyone accepts every single theory as scientific fact, we become stagnant.  That’s a big part of what made the Dark Ages so dark.  There were few attempts to move forward, even fewer attempts to validate knowledge.

Now, would it be difficult for a person who believes the earth is only 6,000 years old to make it in the field of research which includes the history of the earth?  Certainly.  Heck, although I may have stated that a knowledge of the history of the earth may not play into many sciences, the reality is that most sciences have played into our current understanding of the history of the earth.

But here’s my final thought.  Whether you were taught at an early age that the earth was created by some supernatural being or that it developed because of order coming out of chaos, or even if you were taught that we were all sneezed out of some cosmic being’s nose, the one thing all scientists require, is an open mind.

They need to be able to recognize that they might be wrong.

That, at least in something, they ARE wrong.

And I think that’s the struggle anyone going into the scientific fields is going to have a hard time battling.  Especially if they are led to believe that anyone who thinks differently is further behind them intellectually.

Alright…that last bit might be a little rough.  The point here is that science is constantly shifting.  We’ve got theories out there as wild as that the universe doesn’t even actually exist but that all of this is just a construct of a combination of our minds in some sort of ether cloud of life energy.

And at some point, one of those wild theories will be the next best model to utilize to explain our universe.

You can’t be prepared for science with anything but an open mind to what science might teach us next.

So, in summation, could a Christian education set back future scientists at the very least when it comes to their higher education?  Quite probable.  But I pose a new question.  Could it actually be better for science to have people brought up with opposing viewpoints to the standard accepted model of the universe?  People who, when brought to their higher education, are forced to recognize that not everyone sees the world the same way they do?

I think the answer may be yes.

But then again, perhaps it’s all because I just don’t like thinking my early education holds me back from being the smartest man alive…

 

 

Jack to the Future – Chapter One

Chapter One – That Time When Wade Went Out Alone

Chapter 1

Jack and Wade Skeeler are brothers.  You wouldn’t know it from looking at them.  Where Jack is slim, Wade is round.  Where Wade is brash, Jack is quiet.  Jack has jet black hair, which is always kempt and neat, while Wade sports a constant mess of light brown hair atop his head.  Jack is tan, Wade is not.  Wade wears whatever he finds most comfortable, Jack, whatever’s in fashion. Jack is uneasy in public, while Wade feels most at home with an audience.  Jack is twenty-five years old, while Wade is twenty-two.

The two are as different as they come.

But they share the same mother.

And they share the same home.

And they both share an absolute love for each other, which results in an unbreakable bond between the two.

And they are nearly inseparable.

As such, one was rarely found without the other.  And when they were, it caused confusion among those who saw it, hoping that the missing brother was not sick or injured.

Considering the differences between the two brothers, it could often be difficult for them to arrive at a consensus regarding what to do at any given moment.  Where Jack may want to stay in the house and play video games all night, Wade would want to go bowling with friends.

However, the brothers had come to an agreement regarding their differences.  Whenever a disagreement came about, they would simply flip a coin.  Jack was always heads, Wade was always tails.

This story begins with such a decision.  A decision which might cause one to ponder whether the coin had been fully aware of the fate which lie ahead for the two of them when it landed as it did.

 

“Come on, Jack, it’s Friday night.  Let’s go out and party!” Wade pleaded with his brother.  “We haven’t been out in weeks and I’m starting to fear the outside world might have blown up or something!”

“I don’t know, Wade,” Jack murmured from the couch, barely looking up from his phone as he read an article detailing the many reasons why Civil War was better than Batman v Superman.  He was already crafting his comments to the article as he read, noting how they had missed many of the greater threads in both stories which would lead them to a much different conclusion.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you play on your phone all night,” Wade countered.  “If I have to, I’ll go out by myself.”

“Fine,” Jack frowned as he saw one of his rebuttals called out and dismissed in the article.  “Just don’t be out too late.  We’ve got to go visit Mom in the morning.”

Wade groaned.  “Come on, Jack.  Really.  You need to get out, too.”

Jack sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this conversation simply, and looked up from his phone to his brother.  “I’m sure you can handle one simple night out by yourself.”

“I can,” Wade said firmly.  “I’d probably even have a ton more fun without you constantly pouting in the corner over that phone screen.  But the truth of the matter is that you need to get out.”

“Alright,” Jack relented.  “Let’s bring it to the coin.”

“I’m not staying in, no matter what the coin says,” Wade rebutted.

“Okay, then how about this.  Tails, I’ll come out with you.  Heads, I stay here.  You can do whatever you want with either option.”

“Oh,” Wade said, eyes widening in surprise at his brother’s idea.  “That’s an interesting thought.  And it’s basically a win-win for me.  I’m down, bro.”

“Okay, get the coin,” Jack said, returning his attention to his magical rectangle.

Wade rushed into their bedroom and pulled down a small ring box from the top of the bookshelf.  He opened the tiny cube and found the shiny half-dollar coin still sitting on the cushioned interior.  He pulled it out and headed back into the living room where his brother still sat.

“Alright bro, you want to flip, since it’s your bet?” Wade asked, holding the coin out in front of him.

“Naw,” Jack answered, his face still illuminated by the rectangular screen.  “I’ve got to finish this comment before I lose my train of thought.  You go ahead and flip it.”

“Alright,” Wade said, situating the coin on top of his thumb.  He flicked his thumb upward and the coin flew high.  Wade always prefers to flip the coin wildly, thinking the hunt for the coin afterward was just as much of the fun.  Jack, on the other hand, prefers a much more contained form of chance.

The coin landed on the carpet and rolled right back to Wade, hitting his naked foot before falling to the ground.

Wade looked down to see an eagle staring back up at him.  He frowned briefly, but, at always, acquiesced to the whims of the coin.

“Looks like it’s tails, big brother,” Wade said as he bent over to pick the coin up.  “Want to take a look to verify?”

“I’m pretty sure you can tell the difference between an eagle and a severed head,” Jack said with a furrowed brow.  He just realized he didn’t have enough support for his main thesis and took to the internet to find more information to ensure his comment was the brightest piece of prose ever found in a comments section.

Wade picked the coin up and looked at his brother with disappointment.  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?  I was thinking about drinks at Frankie’s.”

“I’m good.  Just don’t stay out too late.”

“Wade?” Jack said, looking up from his phone.  With his comment finished, he realized he probably should apologize for not giving his brother his entire attention.  “Wade.”

Jack stood, feeling the weight of his body try to press him back down into his chair.  He walked to the bedroom to find his brother and remind him that they absolutely couldn’t miss their morning with Mom.

His brother was not there.

Jack walked to the kitchen, and still his brother could not be found.

He opened the front door and saw that it was much darker than he would have expected at this time of the evening on a hot summer’s day.

He looked again at his phone and saw that it was now eleven p.m.

Jack to the Future – Introduction

After releasing the first chapter of Jack to the Future online, I realized I should probably include some sort of introduction on here about this new project.

Jack to the Future is a silly little story I’ve had rattling around in my head for a while, but it was one I really just didn’t think would work in a true novel format.  It’s goofy, it probably deals with some severe copyright infringement, and, ultimately, it’s just really goofy.

Which is why this story will be completely released, as I write it, here on the blog.  My intention is to release a new chapter weekly.

Of course, when releasing a book as its being written, there will be changes occurring to previous bits as I realize something which may have been missed.  My intention is to keep these to a minimum, utilizing the story as is in order to keep from requiring people to read back to see what may have been changed as time goes on.

I say that, but then at the same time, shortly after releasing the first chapter, I realized I completely missed the very important hook which was intended to complete the chapter.  Where the chapter as published ended with just having Jack standing on his porch attempting to figure out where the time had gone, here is the additional tag which was supposed to be there, and really wouldn’t fit within the confines of the second chapter.  It’s been updated in the original post, but for those who may have already read it, I’ll duplicate it here:

A loud roaring sounded from the end of the street.  Jack looked toward the source and saw a vehicle barreling down the road in his direction.

It stopped in front of his house and the driver’s side door opened, but when it opened, the door went up instead of out.  And out of it stepped Wade, with an enormous grin on his face.

“Jack, you’ve got to come back with me!” Wade shouts as he runs from the DeLorean to his brother’s side.

“Where?”

“Back to the butcher!”

As is obvious even from this brief selection, this is not my most refined or sophisticated work.  But I think, should you decide to come along for the ride, you should have a truly spectacular time.

Also, since I’m writing this as I’m publishing it, there are certain to be editorial errors.  I’ll clean them up as I find them when going back through things, but if you ever want to feel like a smarty pants, go ahead and call me on them.  I’ll totally appreciate it

Fat Mogul vs. Comic Sans Bashing

I think Comic Sans has gotten a bad rap.

What’s that, you say?  You don’t want to read a diatribe about my love for Comic Sans?  Well, too bad.  I made a bet to myself that I couldn’t make a compelling argument for the much maligned font and I’m going to follow through on proving myself wrong!

Look, I know Comic Sans has been pushed deep down into the darkest of the font dungeons.  The only people who don’t seem to recognize are the folks who still like to use the font on their passive aggressive notes in the office.

And can you blame them?  When trying to make a sign to get people to stop doing something that makes you absolutely furious, but you don’t want them to know it makes you absolutely furious, use cutesy little Comic Sans.  No one will know how their months old cuban sandwich they’ve left in the fridge keeps you up at night.

Alright, I suppose that since it’s been at least a decade since anyone except those noted above have even thought about Comic Sans, it’s probably best for me to include an example.  Here’s one I plucked from passiveaggressivenotes.com:

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It’s quirky, it’s cute, and it looks vaguely like what you might see in a comic book.  And while reading the above note which informs you of James’ terrible ways, you might get the feeling that he’s also just plain adorable.

But here’s the thing.  There was a magical time in which Comic Sans was everywhere.  As far as the eye could see.

And then something terrible happened.  Those ugly trolls on the internet which love to ruin everything unique and mystical and wonderful, well, they wanted to rain on the glorious Comic Sans parade.  And the next thing you know, Comic Sans had been labelled as the worst of the fonts, placed in the back of the bus with such forgotten members of the font family as Papyrus and Curlz and Wing Dings.  An all out font war broke out which only the most boring of people actually cared about.

And me.

Because I’m not boring.  I’m milding amusing.  Or at least funny looking.

Like Comic Sans.

Look, I get it, Comic Sans has no place in a professional setting.  It’s the face tattoo of fonts.  You want to look smart and professional, Comic Sans won’t give you any points in that direction.  But if you are a person who just wants to play around with fonts for a silly little message about how people should stop eating your three course meal out of the refrigerator, then go right ahead.  We all know who you are.  We already think lowly enough about you to eat your leftovers from The Cheesecake Factory.  Your choice in font really won’t change our opinion of you one bit.

But the real question here is why does Comic Sans conjure such vitriolic hatred?

And I think I’ve figured it out.

Because of who it hangs out with.

My grandma, I’m guessing, is a big fan of Comic Sans.  She probably has it auto-set on all her emails.  I’m guessing your grandma is the same.  And a whole hell of a lot of other grandmas who would be willing to do anything she could to get you to read her emails, and in order to do so, she has come up with the most perfect plan she can come up with, outside of her original attempts of just forwarding on every single joke she’s ever gotten in her spam folder.  She used a font that looks like those comic books you used to read so much.

Comic sans isn’t a bad guy.  He’s a cry for love.  And your hatred of him just shows that you hate love..

So here’s what  I say to all you comic sans haters out there.  Call your grandmothers.  They’re worried about you.  And maybe if you’d just talk to her once in a while instead of crafting a worldwide lynch mob against a cute little font, maybe then you could teach her about font diversity.  About the glories of Laconic, or Lexia, or even a good old Baskerville.  Or maybe, just maybe, tell her that she doesn’t have to try so hard.  That everyone feels at home with the Time New Roman.  Because isn’t that what you really want your grandma to understand?  That you really just want that good old comfort font of your youth?

Fat Mogul vs. Regrets

As a thirty-something year old male (seriously, I’ve forgotten how old now), I have plenty of memories to reflect on.  So many, in fact, that I’ve long lost many of them.

Yet, sometimes, in the middle of something completely unrelated, a random memory will pop up.  And, more often than not, that memory is something where I find myself feeling a bit of regret about something.

I sometimes fear that most of my memories are about something in the past I wish had gone differently, generally with regards to my own actions.  Like those mean things I may have said about someone in grade school, which, although may have been purely the attempts of an outcast youngster trying to fit in, were terribly mean.  Or those times where I didn’t show up for something I know meant a lot to someone.  Or when I may have completely forgotten about a scheduled date with someone.  Or simply, just thoughts I had which I know weren’t ones I should have had.

Of course, the thing about regrets is that you can’t really change the past.  And I don’t generally hold on to these items as a consideration of how terrible of a person I am, but as things to remember to ensure I try to be a better person tomorrow.

Yet, I can’t help but wish I could have done things differently, especially with regards to the things I have done (whether intentionally or not) which resulted in someone being hurt.

I’ve considered the “My Name is Earl” approach, where  I make a giant list and go around to those people I may have wronged in some way and try to make things better.  You may know it better as Step 5 of the Twelve Step program, where you admit to people the exact nature of your wrongdoings.

But I also know that in many of these cases, my “wrongdoings” probably didn’t even crop up on their radar.  Also, well, I just don’t know how much good something like that does except to dig up old dirt.  It might feel good for me, but I question how much good it does for the person being ‘apologized’ to.

A simple statement like, “I’m sorry for calling you fat when I was 8” might bring up old feelings of resentment a person has managed to shove down inside themselves.  Maybe it would be healthy for them to deal with their demons, but it’s really not my place to force them to face them.  Not to mention the likelihood of creating new regrets for myself…which, if I continue down the path, would mean I’d, at some point, possibly have to apologize for apologizing about calling someone fat nearly 30 years ago.

Is it really okay to relieve your own feelings of blame if it may cause someone else new pain?

Then again, the few times I’ve actually managed to face my regrets have been quite fulfilling, for both parties, I believe.  About a year ago I had a discussion with an old roommate about how I could have helped him through his struggle with his personal identity a bit better.  Of course, I was going through my own similar struggle, but that doesn’t mean he saw it that way.  Throughout the conversation with him, I learned that he had seen my responses in the exact way he had feared, while, at the time, I had thought I was telling him precisely what he had wanted to hear.

In the end, I’m fairly certain he saw the previous conversations through a new light and our friendship became stronger for it.  Of course, I can’t say that for certain, but the result certainly felt positive.

But in the end, aren’t most of your regrets a result of viewing your life through the knowledge of hindsight?  Ignoring how you were younger and less informed at the time of occurrence?  Ignoring whatever crap you may have been dealing with at the time?  Looking strictly at the item in question, without all the surrounding details?

When I think about the person I called fat in 3rd grade, I don’t generally allow myself the forgiveness that I was struggling with being an outsider in a small school and saw this personal attack as an opportunity to gain favor with the in-crowd.  I see it as an unnecessary personal attack.  One which may have caused the person being attacked pain.  In that light, it’s unforgivable.  It’s not really all that forgivable with all the extra facts (except that 8 year-olds are not always aware of the results of their actions), but it’s certainly unforgivable when viewed simply as, I called that person fat.

But then, as I review my many regrets, I can’t help but see how they have made me into the man I am today.  As well as the man I intend to make myself into for the future.  Those regrets help inform my future decisions, they help me mold myself, help me become better, help me try to keep from making the same mistakes in the future.

We all have regrets.  And I’m confident to state that I’m not the only one who has them crop up randomly and cause them to ask these same questions.

There’s nothing you can do to change the things you’ve done.  But there are things you can do to make them better.

Earl (from My Name is Earl) worked through his list on the concept of karma.  That if he did enough good things, good things would come back to him.  He would meet up with the people he had wronged and try to find a way to make that wrong right.

How do you right the wrong of causing someone emotional pain?  Or physical pain for that matter.  Sure, if you stole something from someone and give it back to them years later, that may, technically, mean you have righted the wrong, but does that actually repair whatever mental damage may have been caused by that theft?

The wrong has been done.  And your efforts to make the wrong right will not be able to account for the time between the wrong and your efforts.  Your efforts will always be less than the wrongdoing.

Which means if you allow these regrets to hang over you like a heavy cloud, you’ve got very little chance of ever relieving yourself of what you’ve done.

And maybe, in some ways, you don’t deserve to be relieved.

But you can use those regrets in another way.  You can use them to inform your actions in the future.  Recognize that using derogatory remarks in the attempt to fit in just isn’t worth it.  Strike your own path and be above that.  If you missed a date with someone, use that to change your process so you will, I don’t know, use a calendar in the future.

Regrets are terrible.  And they can weigh you down.  But you can also use them to prop yourself up.  To make you better.  To drive you.

They may not go away.  And they probably shouldn’t.  But they should change you.

My regrets, honestly, are often things I’m sure are so minuscule that I’m certain they didn’t even register on the radar of the person I feel I’ve offended.  If I were to contact the offended person and tell them about how I’m sorry I didn’t help them more with their project, they would probably just respond with something along the lines of “No worries, wasn’t expecting you to anyways”.  Hardly a conversation which relieves regret.

But I can use them to try to be better.

And I do.

But I still fail…a lot.  I guess by the time I’m eighty-something I may have gotten to the point where I’m finally creating fewer new regrets than I’m attempting to rectify.

That would be awesome.