Understanding Creation Through Frankenstein

Popular culture has turned the Monster in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein into a lumbering oaf devoid of intelligent thought. In Boris Karloff's film interpretation, we see a Monster that merely roams around zombified with his green arms extended, appendages stiff and rigid, while issuing unintelligible grunts and moans. Actually, in Shelley's terrific novel, the Monster is quite the student, learning language and reading many books and classic works that inform him on humanity, human behavior, and on his unique position in the world. The Monster states:

Like Adam, I was apparently united by no link to any other being in existence; but his state was far different from mine in every other respect. He had come forth from the hands of God a perfect creature, happy and prosperous, guarded by the especial care of his Creator; he was allowed to converse with, and acquire knowledge from, beings of a superior nature: but I was wretched, helpless, and alone. Many times I considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my condition; for often, like him, when I viewed the bliss of my protectors, the bitter gall of envy rose within me.(1)

As the Monster comes to understand his terrible plight as a secondary creation of man and not of God, he breaks open:

"Hateful day when I received life!" I exclaimed in agony. "Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow-devils, to admire him; but I am solitary and abhorred..."

No Eve soothed my sorrows, nor shared my thoughts; I was alone. I remembered Adam's supplication to his Creator. But where was mine? He had abandoned me, in the bitterness of my heart, I cursed him.(2)

The loneliness of the Monster leans on the reader throughout the book. Some of his lamentations read like Psalms of David crying out to God for mercy and for answers. The horror of the novel is not so much in the physical hideousness of the Monster (although his countenance does cause other characters to recoil), but the crushing loneliness of this abandoned creation.

Left to a lesser God, such would be our lot. A lesser God might look upon our "filthy type" and dismantle us much like the Monster's would be bride is dismantled by Dr. Victor Frankenstein. But, through His mercy, we are monsters restored. What might have been horrific and terrible to look upon is made beautiful by Him. For example, a horrendous crucifixion and death births a glorious resurrection. Further, we have not been left to toil in loneliness. We have been provided with human communities, relationships, marriages, parents, and children. We have not been abandoned. We have the spark of our Creator and may even glimpse Him in His created beings in our best moments.

The Monster's rejection so stained him that he killed Victor's wife on their wedding night, and this after he had killed Victor's closest friends. This led to a pursuit of the creature on the northern seas to the icy reaches of the earth. Finally, the Monster was being pursued by his creator. Although Victor sought to destroy the Monster and undo his unholy creature for good, the Monster took twisted delight in the fact that his creator pursued him at all--even if it meant his death at the hands of his creator. In fact, that likely would have been comforting for the Monster.

The Monster serves as a sort of anti-Adam. Instead of pursuing us to destroy us, God pursues us for life. Instead of trying to end our life, he desires for us life to the full. Instead of recoiling at our ugliness, he makes it beautiful. Instead of our Creator dying as we float away on a chunk of ice in a distance ocean, we are pulled toward Him even as we struggle to escape.

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(1) Mary Shelley, Frankenstein: or the Modern Prometheus, (Hertfordshire, England: Wordsworth Editions Limited, 1999), 100.
(2) Ibid, 101.

iPhone-y

Obviously, I am not anti-technology. I am typing this post on a computer on an internet blog. But, we sometimes fail to ask whether new technology is good or necessary, and to evaluate its impact on our communities and relationships.

I tend to view most technological advancement much like I do cars. How efficient is this thing? How long before it becomes obsolete? How much energy will it use? How will this impact the environment? How much does it cost? Does it replace vital human interaction or impact communities in a negative way? How much time will this thing save/cost?

Which brings us to the iPhone. I do not have one and likely will not until there is some other gadget which is way more advanced that makes the iPhone an "old model" in three or four years (months?). As serious as I am about running, I almost always buy "last year's model" runing shoes for 25% less than the new model. Why? Because year to year, the changes are mostly cosmetic. Maybe when the iPhone uses up its "Geek Cred" (I totally stole that from another blogger), I'll have one in five years. Maybe not. Therefore, I will not pretend that I know a lot about the iPhone or why it is the greatest item ever fashioned.

That said, it seems to me that Apple pulled one over on their fanboys and fangirls with this $200 price cut.

Steven Levitt, University of Chicago economist and author of Freakonomics (a must read if you have not already read it), had this to say earlier in the week:

If you ask an economist how to price a new product that is just being introduced, the response you will get is that you should charge a very high price at first and then steadily reduce that price over time.

There are two reasons for doing this. First, it generally gets cheaper to produce things over time, so it makes sense to lower prices in response. Second, people vary widely in their willingness to pay for a new gadget. By starting high, you get as much money as you can from those who really want the product, then expand the market at the lower price point.

Hmm … that sounds exactly like what Apple just did with the iPhone. They brought it out at $599, sold one million iPhones, and then dropped the price to $399 after two months, in the hopes of selling nine million more this year...

What economists (and Apple too, I guess) ignore is that consumers hate it when companies follow practices that look like they are designed to maximize profits. You won’t find it in economic models, but consumers care about the reason a firm chooses the price it chooses...

Apple’s price cut looks like one driven purely by a desire to maximize profit, which is why everyone is so mad.

Of course, there is an economic argument that Apple made a good financial decision for their company...in the short run. But part of Apple's gig is that people believe they are getting a better, more innovative product from Apple than they get from other companies. Cutting the price of the greatest invention since the wheel by 33% after two months on the market severely undermines that credibility. It could potentially hurt the Apple mystique for future purchases.

Wendell Berry, Kentucky farmer and writer, set forth this rubric for evaluating technology in his essay "Why I Am Not Going to Buy a Computer":

1. The new tool should be cheaper than the one it replaces.
2. It should be at least as small in scale as the one it replaces.
3. It should do work that is clearly and demonstrably better than the one it replaces.
4. It should use less energy than the one it replaces.
5. If possible, it should use some form of solar energy, such as that of the body.
6. It should be repairable by a person of ordinary intelligence, provided that he or she has the necessary tools.
7. It should be purchasable and repairable as near to home as possible.
8. It should come from a small, privately owned shop or store that will take it back for maintenance and repair.
9. It should not replace or disrupt anything good that already exists, and this includes family and community relationships.

Again, someone who knows a lot more about the iPhone than I do will have to perform this evaluation. And, while I will likely never live an agrarian life quite like Mr. Berry, he does raise some important points that might help us resist the urge to fall into the iHerd of iPeople buying iGadgets for the sake of I.

Kids and High Blood Pressure

Expect more and more news like this if we do not turn around the obesity trend in our nation's children.

The prevalence of HBP (High Blood Pressure) and pre-HBP in children and adolescents showed a downward trend between 1963 and the 1988-1994 survey. But the trend began to reverse through 2002. For example, the prevalence of high blood pressure in all children and adolescents decreased from 11.1 percent in the 1976-1980 (Black and white) and 4.7 percent in 1982-1984 survey (first national survey for Mexican-American youth) to 2.7 percent in the 1988-1994 survey (all children), but rose to 3.7 percent in the 1999-2002 survey (all children).

Pre-HBP is a reliable predictor of early organ damage, thickening of the heart walls, and lesions in the aorta.

Just another reminder than the health care solution is in our pantries, cafeterias, and lunch boxes, not in political solutions to treat a nation that lives a lifestyle prone to sickness. We cannot simply treat the symptoms; we must treat the illnesses of apathy and convenience on the front end. Namely, how we eat, sleep, and exercise.

Going Local: Football

As we head toward fall, I plan on posting a piece on "going local" from time to time. This week, let's start with something downright American: sports. In fact, in a strange way, rooting for our local university's basketball team is what originally pushed me to go to farmer's markets, explore my city, appreciate the climate, etc. That initial love of something local, peripheral as basketball may be, pushed me to seek new ways to support local people, businesses, and athletics.

I have blogged before about how television undercuts all that's good about athletics. To paraphrase something I said a couple of year's ago on my hoops blog:

Fans cannot tailgate with college buddies through television. There is no virtual or Hi-Def replacement for the smell of popcorn wafting into my section at Diddle Arena. In basketball, a last second shot to win the game registers as a measly two points in a computer-generated fantasy league, but in reality it wields the terrible power to spark jubilation or strike crushing despair into thousands of hearts the moment it hits the bottom of the net. It can suck the air out of an arena, or send it into total pandemonium. There is no plasma screen that can replicate nippy winter walks to a college stadium with wives, children, and family, nor the rush of warm air that hits your face as you click through the turnstile. Instead of encountering the power of a fight song or alma mater ringing in your ears, you get muted crowd noise with a "Brought to you by...State Farm Insurance" promo. Instead of engaging in halftime conversation with the elderly, living encyclopedia sitting next to you who has had season tickets for thirty-five years, you get an army of talking heads in suits and cakey make-up yammering at one another, all wrapped in more rapid-fire rounds of commercials.

We have a local university (WKU) that sells season football tickets for $25. That's for the ENTIRE season. To be clear: that's five college football games for $25. I once paid $125 for ONE game at Ohio State. Twenty-five bucks gives you access to five weekends to pack up the grill and head to campus with friends and family to tailgate, barbecue, throw around the pigskin, and interact with others from your community. Five weekends to meet someone new on the South Lawn. Five weekends to cheer in unison with thousands of others for a local team.

If the response to this is, "Yeah, but WKU is not playing anyone worth watching," then please go ahead and click on the TV and begin the game watching. Many fall prey to ESPN's ploys which cultivate the idea that the only important football is played by a handful of schools that play on TV every week. ESPN is a TV network! Of course, they would LOVE to foster this idea!

No, this is a chance to enjoy high level, local sports for a minimal financial investment. When a family of four can invest $100, and spend five Saturdays eating together, cheering together, connecting to something local together, it is at least worth thinking about.

Maybe football is not your bag, and that is perfectly fine. The message here is that this is just one of many ways to connect locally.

Do you want perfect picture resolution? Go see the game IN THE STADIUM. Do you want perfect color and amazing clarity? Try the view from Section HH. Do you want to go beyond Hi-Def? Try the real thing.

It not only works for football; it works for most areas of life.

Running Lesson #12,459: Limits

Sometimes, our will plays no part in going faster, doing better, or trying harder.

I was hoping to set a PR in a 5k (3.1 miles) race this morning. I went out from the starting line at a blistering pace (too fast, really) in an attempt to test my limits and try to run under 17.45, which would require a 5.38-per-mile pace.

I hit Mile 1 in 5.31. This was my fastest race mile ever, but I could feel a hint of lactic acid building in my legs. I was in the lead pack running about 7th place, although I knew some of the greyhounds in front of me would drop the hammer at some point. These were racers that I know well, but have never had the pleasure of seeing up close during a race, so that was a nice experience.

As we hit a slight downhill in Mile 2, they began to separate from me a bit. It soon became clear that I was not going to stay with this front group. I hit mile two at 11.24 (5.53 for Mile 2--too slow for my PR goal). In an effort to go out hard and test my limits, I had pretty much cooked my legs--so, there would be no strong finishing kick to bail me out. It was going to be a grind in Mile 3.

Mile 3 includes the only real hill on the course, and it brought burning waves into my legs. A PR was out of the question, but I knew I would be very close to 18 mins, so I summoned everything I had to pour on the coal and keep my time under 18:00. I hit Mile 3 at 17.27, with the finish line in sight just 0.1 miles away--and 33 seconds to get there.

I churned toward the line with ferocity, arms flailing, lungs full of razors, quadriceps and hamstrings teeming with acid, face contorted in severe pain and grim determination.

And I hit the line in 18.01.

The sweet relief of the finish was somewhat embittered by one second--or the amount of time it takes to stand from a chair or lift a spoonful of cereal. Eighteen minutes of strategy and pain was spoiled by a solo tick-tock of the clock. Or, so it would seem.

But, there is a life lesson here. My WILL to keep it under 18 minutes played no role in the reality of actually DOING it in that final furious blitz to the finish line. Maybe that second could have been made up somewhere else on the course--a faster downhill stretch, a harder push up that hill...or maybe harder training two weeks ago, easier training two weeks ago, more sleep, less sleep, the "What-if" list goes on forever. We all play this game with our circumstances in life that fail to meet our expectations. Find fault, assess blame, rationalize. Later, rinse, repeat.

The hard reality is that in the moment of truth, my physical best today was not enough to reach my goal. It seems that is often the case in life. Racing simply puts that truth right in our face, lungs, and legs for all to see and for us to feel on a physical and emotional level. There is no rationalizing the stopwatch or the clock. It's truth can be glorious or cruel and that line is drawn with the smallest of pens. It is a line that is one second wide.

Thank God for limits and the reminder that finding our limits, physical or otherwise, is often where we most clearly see Christ. Thank God for grace, especially in those times when my best is short of the goal. Thank God for the privilege of racing and the hope of running the race and keeping the faith even when we fall short.