Creation

Adriana has asked me several times as of late about the origin of life. Not so much in a birds-and-the-bees kind of way, but more in a "Why am I a cognizant being and where did this existence come from?" kind of way. (Frankly, these grand philosophical quandaries make discussing the differences between "boy pee-pees" and "girl pee-pees" seem like cake.) I talk freely about God when He/She/It comes up, but I haven't yet made it a point to school Adriana in any certain religious tradition, mainly because, you know, religion is complicated. She attends UU services when she's at her father's house, and she has been to Catholic mass with my mother. But who knows? By the time she's old enough to make her First Penance maybe I'll finally be Jewish by remarriage. That notwithstanding, I bit the bullet today and answered the pressing question:

How do they make persons?

The first time she asked me that, I told her that people make people, that a Mommy and a Daddy have a baby and life continues on. But I knew that's not what she wanted to know. So today I answered her real question with a question.

Adriana: How do they make persons?

Me: Who's they?

Adriana: (pause) Well, the company.

Me: People make companies, companies don't make people. (Editor's note: I mean, let's not get all Orwellian here, right?)

Adriana: Well, how do they make people?

Me: You want to know where people come from? (deep swallow) People have evolved. We've evolved from apes.

***

Now, I have no problem with (accept) the story (theory) of evolution, but I have to tell you, hearing myself explain to my own small child that we evolved from apes sounded as ridiculous/miraculous/impossible/amazing/magical as anything Jesus ever did. And that's the point, isn't it? That life, by its very nature, is inherently mystical and therefore divine, whether you try to explain it through religion or science or both. I understand that lots of my friends are at best agnostic, if not down-right atheist, and I am as critical of Right-Wing Conservative Christians as the next Pinko Commie Liberal. But I think it's as foolish to deny God in the broad sense as it is to deny evolution. In fact, that's why I think American cinemas should be pushing to show this new Darwin movie, Creation, because in it he struggles with the way his scientific ideas inform and change his spiritual foundation. I promised myself, and I suppose God, as life as I knew it crumbled - for a second time - while I was mourning the death of my father and watching my marriage dissolve, that I wouldn't use him (for lack of a better word) only when I needed him, but rep him at all times in all things, and I'm happy to say that publicly, because without that God, that Good, I wouldn't be halfway to where I am today, which is a lot happier than I was before. (Sorry for the run-on sentence. Maybe I should pray for more sophisticated writing skills.)

But where was I?

Me: You want to know where people come from? (deep swallow) People have evolved. We've evolved from apes.

Adriana: What are apes?

Me: Like gorillas.

Adriana: We're like gorillas, but bigger?

Me: Smarter. We can talk. Our brains are a little more developed. Humans are part of the Universe, and God made the Universe. God's not a person, though. He's... a spirit. He's goodness. He's the spirit in everything.

Adriana: Well, he got like that from being on the cross.

Me: That's Jesus. Jesus is like God. Jesus is the Son of God. He brings us closer to God.

At this point I'm sweating, thinking, do I explain the trinity and transfiguration and then sort of de-bunk them with loving kindness by saying these are concepts Catholics use to illustrate their faith that are not necessarily definitive truth but ritual theatre that brings us closer to the divine? I mean, WWJD? But thankfully, by then she'd heard enough. Which is good, because I'm not sure how much longer I could continue to or how much more in-depth I could explain my own brand of Cathippiesm to a nearly 4-year-old without really having to break shit down. Eventually we'll have to have a musical theatre marathon of Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell and she can figure it out from there.

Studying evolution via play dough.

Why I Still Love Obama

It's so nice to hear an American president talking about ALL NATIONS letting go of their nuclear weapons, not just some "Axis of Evil" or the perceived "bad guys."

You know that commercial running now for Ally Bank where the suit asks a little girl if she wants a pony, gives her a plastic toy, then asks the other kid if she wants a pony and gives her a real horse? It ends in a voice-over that says, "Even kids know it's wrong to hold-out on somebody." That's the thing with nukes and the child-men who are obsessed with them: why would (and frankly, should) Ahmadinejad give up his guns if we won't do the same? I mean, we all know "Do as I say and not as I do" doesn't work when it comes to parenting, so why should it work on the world stage?

Not to be such a dirty, feminist hippie about it, but, um:



I grew up in a town with a nuclear power plant (as I have mentioned before). And the locals for the most part are thrilled about it, because it provides a lot of jobs and a strong tax base, which in turn helps fund the schools. I understand that. But what I don't understand is why people are so opposed to wind energy (did I mention that I put Shepard Fairey's windmill sticker on the back of my environmentally-friendly car?). Sure, wind energy alone is not going to power America, but it's better than "clean coal." (Believing in clean coal, by the way, is like smoking American Spirits because you think you'll be less likely to get lung cancer. Ooh, that one cuts close to home... but it's true.) All I'm sayin' is, wind doesn't have to be buried in a mountain or have the potential to meltdown.

And so, to close, the Queen of the hippie feminists, Mr. Ani Difranco, with her ode to The Atom:



the glory of the atom
begs a reverent word
the primary design
of the whole universe
yes, let us sing its praises
let us bow our heads in prayer
at the magnificent consciousness
incarnate there

the smallest unit of matter
with its orbiting electrons
echoing off the solar system
like a hawk in the hills at dawn
the smallest unit of matter
uniting bird and rock and tree
and you and me

oh holy is the atom
the truly intelligent design
to which all of evolution
is graciously aligned
one single structure
to which everything distills
the air
the wood smoke there
and the hills

leave me here surrounded
to everything that's real
far outside the boundaries
of the digitized ordeal
leave me here awake
leave me here to heal

human beings are a cross
between monkeys and ants
you can see us from your spaceship
melting the polar ice caps
with our arrogance
summon a congress of angels
dressed in riot gear
we've got ourselves a serious situation
down here

i have this great great uncle
who worked on the atomic bomb
he got a nobel prize in physics
and a place in song
and i bet there were no windows
and no women in the room
when they applied themselves
to the pure science of
boom

yes, messing with the atom
is the highest form of blasphemy
whether you are making weapons
or simple electricity
someone fashion me a pulpit
i have been called to engage
with the maniacal heretics
of the nuclear age!

let the religious get religion
let consumers get a clue
let scientists get perspective
let activists get their due
let industry get a conscience
let the earth inherit the meek
let the divinity of nature speak

the glory of the atom
begs a reverent word
the primary design
of the whole universe
yes, let us sing its praises
let us bow our heads in prayer
at the magnificent consciousness
incarnate there

Back-to-School: Dinosaurs and Indians

Adriana often asks if the things she sees on TV are "alive," as opposed to asking if they're "real." Today she said, "Are there any alive Indians?" So I asked, "Indians like Pocahontas?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, there are, but they don't really live like that anymore. Some of them live on reservations where their land originally was, and they maintain some of their traditions, but they live like we do, too."

She thought for a second and said, "The Indians were alive with the dinosaurs."

I of course explained that they weren't, and that there were no people alive with the dinosaurs, but that there were cavemen who lived a long time ago. It's funny to watch her make sense of the information she's gleaning from books and TV, especially because a lot of what she's seeing isn't anthropologically sound. For example, Pocahontas did help John Smith (although apparently Historians question that now, too) but she probably didn't have a rack like she does in the Disney cartoon, and she definitely didn't run around singing Vanessa Williams hits. (No disrespect, Vanessa, but why Disney didn't release the Judy Kuhn version of Colors of the Wind I have no idea, because as I told Adriana the other day, "She's the best in the business.")

It makes sense that Adriana's found a way to combine Pocahontas (her current favorite Disney film) with dinosaurs, because her favorite television show is called Dinosaur Train, a new fall offering on PBS that combines three things that children love: dinosaurs, trains and... time travel? Sure, why not?!

If dinosaurs can talk (and they speak English, naturally) and take a train, that train can totally enter a time-warp tunnel that drops said dinosaurs off to whichever Mesozoic period they choose. The lead characters, Mr. and Mrs. Pteranodon, live in the Cretaceous period and are blessed with 4 children, one of whom (in a nod perhaps to modern-day adoption?) is a Tyrannosaurus Rex. One can only assume, despite being raised by a loving family of fish-eating reptiles, Buddy (and honestly, what else would you name something as cuddly as a T-Rex?) will in future episodes discover his true meat-eating dinosaur nature and be forced to devour his family in their sleep. It's like Dexter meets The Flintstones. You know, classic children's fare.

Yes, all kids love dinosaurs, and at Adriana's school, there are rubber dinosaurs for the students to play with and dinosaur cut-outs with each child's symbol on them, to be placed in a basket upon arrival, which lets the teacher know you're in attendance. Here's Adriana on the first day, looking not at all ferocious in her Hello Kitty shrug dress, another of her latest obsessions.

My little dino-loving princess.

Suicide: It's Trendy!

I just learned on Twitter that it's World Suicide Prevention Day (why didn't Google dedicate an illustration to that?), thanks in large part to RT's of Pete Wentz, who is no doubt in mourning over his friend DJ AM. Twitter, in interest of brevity, one assumes, listed the trending topic simply as World Suicide, which has needless to say been the butt of more than a few 140 character jokes.

Couple things:

1) I saw a prominent blogger crack a joke about DJ AM's death the day after it happened. Let's not even begin to discuss MJ. #toosoon

2) I think the fact that death - especially tragic death - has become so trivialized is apocalyptic and sad.

3) That being said, my Grandparents committed euthanasia via shotgun 14 years ago this month, so me cracking wise about suicide is like Kanye rhyming UK with you, K - it just makes sense.

So, what I didn't Tweet earlier, lest it be misconstrued without that background info:

"If my Grandparents hadn't killed themselves, I wouldn't be celebrating World Suicide Prevention Day alone! #YouCan'tHandleTheTruth"

All coping mechanisms jokes aside, Suicide Prevention really is an important cause - I can think of several people I know personally who have been affected by suicide (and not just the dead ones). As my mother said recently, "I think more people push their own buttons than you'd realize." So, seriously, keep the warning signs on your mind.

And also, I'd love it if you cared to sponsor me in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention's Manhattan Walk, taking place on October 18, 2009. Click here to view my donation page.

Thank you! Goodnight.

Why Can't We See Our Brains?

Adriana and I were sitting at the table, eating lunch the way civilized ladies should, when suddenly she commented on the spinach/broccoli/chicken bake she refused to eat the night before.

"It IS good! Is this seaweed?"

No, it's not seaweed, I said. Though people do eat seaweed. "Is seaweed good for you?" Yes, I assured her.

"Why can't we see our brains?" she wondered. "Cuz they're inside our heads," I said.

"When I was a little baby and I lived inside your tummy I could see your bones."**

"Oh yeah?" I retorted.

"Yeah, then I came out your pee-pee."*

Just two civilized ladies, chatting over lunch.

*Not true.
**Also probably not true.