Political Roundup -- August 2012 (The unCONVENTIONal edition)

And now, the news in brief. For the proper effect and gravitas, please play this in the background while reading.

Missouri Representative and Senate candidate Todd Akin drew fire for claiming that pregnancy rarely occurs in situations of "legitimate rape," which he later clarified meant "forcible" rape. Despite the calls of opponents and GOP leaders to drop out of the race, Akins has persisted and recently told supporters, "We're going to carry on this campaign! We're going to fight! We're going to earn a legitimate victory over liberalism! We're going to... what? What??"

Akins' remarks had broader repercussions as the Romney campaign is likely to recall its "Ryan/Romney: Legitimate Conservatism" bumper stickers. Meanwhile, Joe Biden told a campaign rally, "We are not going anywhere! We are going to defeat the Republicans through the most legitimate and forcible campaigning ever seen! Four more years! Four more... what? What??"

History's Mysteries: Abraham Lincoln and the Undead

Warning: Spoilers! (...in case you care that much about movies featuring Abe Lincoln fighting monsters)

About a week or so ago, my fiancee and I went to see Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. The movie, if you're not aware, is about Abraham Lincoln being a guy who hunts vampires. Hence, you know, the title. For those of you who have not seen it, I don't want to spend too much time on it, so I'll post the trailer and a few bullet points summarizing my experience.

Chick-fil-A: Where Money and Strict Conservativism Meet Substandard Chicken Sandwiches

Before I get into the tender breast meat of this blog post, let me summarize my feelings about Chick-fil-A circa one month ago:

- Why would someone build a restaurant dedicated to substandard chicken sandwiches?

- Why would they advertise them so...strangely?

If the cows are sentient, how do we know the chickens aren't also?

Agamemnon in Aulis: Please Bless Allan and His . . . Work

“It has been said that the myth is a public dream, dreams are private myths. Unfortunately we give our mythic side scant attention these days. As a result, a great deal escapes us and we no longer understand our own actions. So it remains important and salutary to speak not only of the rational and easily understood, but also of enigmatic things: the irrational and the ambiguous. To speak both privately and publicly.” 

--Mary Zimmerman, Metamorphoses

Soldiers wait on the coast. Drums no longer beat, their vigor lost to stillness. The air refuses to breathe life into the warrior’s sails. No plea will abate its silence. No sacrifice will appease its indifference. The wind obeys its god. Not like men. Men slay hosts without abandon. Futures fall to swords of desire. Death hangs across the bows of ships that will not return from Troy’s shores. And still, men—lusting after blood born of war—strike down the beasts of Artemis. Her fury matches the brightness of her brother’s light. She stays the air of glory, accepting no recompense for her slain treasure. And the Greeks wait. Enticed by promised victory, a thousand faces look on at dreams unable to launch.

In a vengeance forged by Hephaestus’ flames, Artemis extends an offer to man’s general, Agamemnon: the winds will blow and the boats will sail, but only at the price of royal blood. For Agamemnon’s eternal glory to live, his daughter Iphigenia must die. Honor. Glory. Gold. Women. Immortality. Prizes for a daughter’s heart. Agamemnon’s nation calls upon him to lead the way. If he denies them and saves her life, others will overpower him, offering them both to Artemis. War claims its victims. It will always start at home. A daughter’s tears will not beat back ambition. Agamemnon’s knife sinks into Iphigenia’s chest, but it severs the ties of families—Priam’s and his own. Iphigenia’s blood stains the altar’s stone. The winds blow. Troy falls. Agamemnon gets everything he ever wanted. What is a daughter’s life to a father’s immortality?

The False Idol of Body Image

( Cross-posted to emBody - a blog about loving our bodies )


I have worshiped plenty of false idols in my lifetime. Some of my favorites have been the false idols of Netflix, cell phone (iPhone kicked up my worship a few notches), Old Navy (don't judge me!), computer (facebook anyone?), and back in my teenage years - boys. My false idols are not unlike the false idols you worship on occasion.

I know the leaders of the LDS Church and sometimes even our parents have been pretty good steering us away from false idols, but the biggest, ugliest, and most tempting idol worship is one I'm sure at least 99% of us are guilty of worshipping over and over at some point in life. I have had little to no help from anyone in quitting this most fatal idol I worship.

It's body image.

Boys' Club, or Why Girls Can’t Blog

As a part of this heinous and almost completed semester, I am in a Child Development class. There are about 30 girls and 0 boys in it. I didn't want to sign up for it, but it's a prerequisite for a class I have to take in a couple of semesters, which class is required for my major and thereby I had to suck it up and take Child Development.

I’ve actually learned quite a lot, and my final project is a blog that will go unnoticed through the annals of the Internet, the only exceptions being my husband (my editor) and the TA, who will almost undoubtedly under-appreciate the amount of effort or the sheer number of hours I have poured into it. She will probably not even show it to my teacher who would probably love it. (For the record, I turned it in and got all 200 out of 200 points possible for the project. She didn't read a single post, which I know because not a single post had a page view when I saw the grade.)

The TA looks like this, only angrier.

Rediscovering the Values of the Founding Fathers (or Foundersland: A Fantastical Journey)

Recently my wife and I had guests over for dinner. Amidst our pleasantries, one of them voiced her displeasure with a certain recent Supreme Court ruling. She opined that America had strayed too far from the vision of its founders, which is a common refrain among conservatively-inclined Americans and civil libertarians alike. I'm no expert on the matter, but I'm a reasonably-informed amateur and a fairly astute historical thinker; plus, as luck has it I've been reading Gordon S. Wood's "Empire of Liberty: A History of the Early Republic, 1789-1815," so America's founding has been on my mind. I started thinking...what if our country did live by the values held by the founders?

So pull out your cardboard box, gather some Higgs Bosons for fuel, and let's take a trip to a parallel dimension where the founders' intentions were never altered, where the United States of America exist as they were intended to be! (The first sign we've entered bizarro-world? The country's title is still plural!) For clarity I will dub our new dimension Foundersland.*

In Foundersland, powdered wigs wear you!

The Holocaust of Hubris

Ash is falling like snow. If you live in Utah county, you've seen it, and it's an eerie sight. The state is covered in wildfires from north to south, and the cinders are dropping on Provo like we're Lilliputians in an ashtray. And in a way, I'm probably responsible.

You see, I recently took a BYU English class and, irresponsible young adult that I am, I tried, in my own little way, to defend the rights of gay students at BYU--and, doubtless, called down this plague upon the state.

American Political Roundup -- June 2012

It's been a while since we've done a proper political update here, so here you are with the stories that matter, what you won't hear from the mainstream me-dumb-ia (note: come up with better media perjorative).

-In an attempt to cash in on recent pop culture trends and, some analysts believe, position herself for a 2016 Presidential run, Hillary Clinton released Youtube parody video entitled "Text Me Maybe." It has recently surpassed the trailer for Twilight: New Moon in Youtube's Trending category.

What IS in a Name: Countless Caravans for a Mormon Boy

This is the final chapter in a three part series. For the previous sections, I suggest you click on the links provided for Part 1 and Part 2.

When I think about how I can harmonize these various versions of Allan—my grandfather’s kindness and his cruelty; my grandfather and me; my zealous missionary self and my uncorrelated, intellectual spirit—I am left with an understanding that this is the kind of story that has already been written and, at the same time, it is the story no one has written at all. I’m not the first person this has happened to, but it is new because it is involves me. I am reminded of one of the final lines from Tony Kushner’s remarkable epic Angels in America. The character Harper, a possibly-recovering valium addict who never made for a very good Mormon, reflects, “Nothing’s lost forever. In this world there’s a type of painful progress—longing for what we’ve left behind and dreaming ahead. At least I think that’s so.”

So I look back. I turn to the faith of my fathers, the faith that took Davis-es across foreign lands on trains. I look to the legacy of pioneers who did not know what it meant to be Mormon but created for themselves what it meant in their move. I look to the faith of prophets who proclaimed that this faith is both an inheritance we are given and a gift extended that we claim. Allan Nathan Davis is a name that comes with honor and sin, an inspiring history and mistakes in need of repentance.

I hear a voice from the dust made of the bones of my ancestors. The words of a prophet-king reverberate in my ear and settle in my heart: “I would that ye should remember also, that this is the name that I said I should give unto you [. . .] I say unto you , I would that ye should remember to retain the name written in your heart [. . .] that ye hear and know the voice by which ye shall be called.” Allan Nathan Davis is a name complete on its own but given unto me. It is thick in legacy but mine to shape and command. Like a master gardener employed by nobility, I craft and sculpt knowing such art never fully belongs to me. The art of my name belongs to others. But it is my responsibility, my inheritance. It is my talent to add surplus to. I look back to take my step forwards.