Arcing

Yesterday morning, I was at Bible study. We started the sixteen verses that contain the ten commandments. Most of our discussion centered on Exodus 20:5-6, which follows the commandment against idolotry:

I, the Lord, your God, am a zealous God, Who visits the iniquity of the fathers upon the sons, upon the third and the fourth generation of those who hate Me, and [I] perform loving kindness to thousands [of generations], to those who love Me and to those who keep My commandments.

The idea that innocent children should be punished for the sins of their parents, aside from being repugnant, directly contradicts other text in the Bible (e.g. Deuteronomy 24:16.)

One commentary put an interesting spin on the passage: perhaps it is not a statement of intent to punish. Rather, it could be an observation of the moral interdependence of parents and children. Children who are abused, for example, are at significantly elevated risk of becoming abusers themselves.

We also talked about the ratio of bad effects—three to four generations—to the "thousands of generations" for good effects. Does time really increase the amount of good in the world?

I remembered part of a quote from Martin Luther King, Jr, and looked it up when I got home:

The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.

It's a hopeful statement - bending toward justice. I find it kind of inspiring to think of the arc reaching back to Moses and the commandments. May we continue to guide the morals of our society toward justice.

Wanna take a break?

Yesterday, a supervisor and one of my bosses asked me to join them: they were going for a cigarette break. I wasn't sure how to respond.

I have come to a point in my career where being a non-smoker is a (mild) impediment to further advancement. Not something I had foreseen, and not a welcome development.

On the other hand, I'm well-liked enough to be invited. I think that's a sign I should just keep doing what I'm doing. No tobacco necessary.

Advertisement and body image

As I mentioned last week, I am spending a lot of time at Pogo. Pogo is an advertising-supported service. This means I have been watching a lot of advertisements.

In these ads, a common product is an expectorant. If you have a cough or sinus pressure, say the ads, take this product: it will get the mucus out. To dramatize the eviction, the ads anthropomorphize the mucus. Green people who live in our lungs or sinus cavities are shown riding motorcycles, swing dancing at clubs, having family reunions, or reading bedtime stories to their children. These green people are bad, imply the ads.

All the green people are obese. All the ill people—"good people" being harmed by the green folk—are skinny models. In addition to the "you don't have to suffer sinus pressure or a lingering cough" message, these ads are sending the message "take our product and you will kill the fat person inside you." It's absurd and disturbing at the same time.

Burnout

I have been feeling burned out. When at home, I avoid intellectually stimulating activities - I read very little, I don't write (here or on Wikipedia), even knitting sessions have been rare. Most of my free time is spent playing flash games on sites such as pogo.

Pogo offers many multi-player card and board games. While I am overstimulated from work, my introvert nature takes hold: even the minimal contact of playing an internet game is too much for me. Solitaire is more what recharges my batteries.

Yesterday, I stated playing dominoes. With other human beings. A sign of recovery, at least for this introvert.

Blogging: On hold

I enjoy blogging. Over a year ago, I commented on how I benefit from blogging, and those comments still hold true.

As part of a recent post, I mentioned taking on new responsibilities at work. I'm trying to do a lot of my old job, train for my new responsibilities, cover for coworkers who are taking big chunks of vacation, and in general deal with the personnel shortages of a company that has laid off half its employees. In other words, I'm spending a lot of time at work.

I'm excited about the direction my job is taking. And I feel lucky I'm able to take advantage of this opportunity: even two months ago, I had neither the physical energy nor the mental capacity for anything so demanding. I am very grateful to have recovered so quickly from my cancer treatments.

The demands of work are requiring sacrifices: I exercise less frequently, I haven't picked back up on my organ lessons, I don't cook what or as often as I would like to, and my blog posts are infrequent. I plan to start picking those things back up after the holidays at the end of 2009. Until then, I will blog only once or twice a month. C'est la vie!

I hope everyone has a happy Thanksgiving!

Budgie alarm

My husband and I have two small parrots. Morning with them on most days are pretty quiet: I go to work before the sun comes up, when our birds are still sleeping or engaging in quiet activity.

On weekends, we normally sleep in. For years, when the sun starts shining into our house, our cockatiel would begin a cheeping. A loud "Cheep!," a short pause, another "Cheep!" and on for some time. Often, he would settle when one of us goes into his room. If not, usually having both of us in the living room would get him to calm down.

Why the insistent calls until we get up? I don't know. But it was neat to see that he felt some connection to us.

About a month ago, my husband's coworker found a parakeet at their wild bird feeder. Wilson is now living with us. When a new pet comes into a household, things change.

Parakeets (also called budgerigars, or budgies) are known for talking to themselves. Whistles, cheeps, crackles, words, and any other sounds they learn to imitate get all jumbled up into a monologue. Our first parakeet does this. But Wilson does it much more. Often, when Wilson starts up, the other budgie joins in.

And that's our new weekend wakeup call: the two budgies talking to themselves. No more insistent cockatiel cheeps. I'm a little sad the birds don't seem to need my husband or I as much in the morning. But I'm glad to wake up to such a happy sound: a budgie alarm.

That's not part of my job!

Growing up, one of my chores was to do the dishes on certain days of the week. A particular day of dishwashing stands out in my mind: after I had done the dishes—completing this chore the same way I had done for years—my father insisted I wasn't finished. "You haven't wiped down the counter!" Passionate argument ensued, with no resolution.

The next day I went to my mother, full of righteous indignation. After hearing my side of the story she said, "Well, it doesn't seem unreasonable for wiping down the counter to be part of doing the dishes."

I don't remember what was said after that: I was overcome by a feeling of dumbfounded shock. No one had ever asked me to wipe down the counter. I was upset at being scolded over a responsibility I had not agreed to; it had never crossed my mind to consider whether the task was reasonable.

At work, I will soon have some authority (although not supervisory) over a number of other employees. Gaining cooperation can be a tricky task; I have heard many supervisors compare their job to parenting. Perhaps memories such as the dishwashing incident will help my management techniques at work.

I hope I'll do well. I'm excited to have the opportunity to try.