Filed under: books/music/film
Although always intrigued by bombastically titled books, I generally find myself discouraged by their poor argumentation, weak research, or overzealous rhetoric. Not this one. (I did however feel somewhat self-conscious requesting the title at the local bookstore; the guy looked at me as if I had requested a book on how to join the KKK. Sigh.) Unfortunately, I simply don’t have enough time to give this 230 page pearl justice in terms of a review (especially with a certain 2 year old sitting in my lap). All I can briefly say is: smart, smart, smart — the thinking, diction, argumentation, research – all of it. Bauerlein, an English professor at Emory, fluidly moves through vast amounts of research (15 pg. bibliography) to debunk the myth that the technology age has in fact increased the intellects of the under 30s.
While giving credence to all his counter-arguments, Bauerlein quickly points out that in spite of the increased availability of vast amounts of information and the ability to connect to the thoughts and achievements of the generations preceding us (“vertical modeling”), the under-30 crowd (just missed that one) still primarily uses the Web for what he terms “horizontal modeling” or ”more raillery and mimicry of people the same age.” So, rather than connecting youth to the wisdom, traditions, or lessons of the past, the Web is creating a generational cocoon, allowing adolescents more advanced means “to do what they’ve always done in a prosperous time: talk to, act like, think like, compete against, and play with one another.” This cocoon simultaneously misleads them to believe that “authentic reality begins with themselves and that what preceded them is irrelevant.” Hence we experience the currently more common “trumpeting [of] a-literacy (the knowing how to read, but choosing not to)” as well as the glorification of the ”perpetual adolescent” — an extension of the adolescent interests and demeanors well into adulthood. Adolescence, Bauerlein describes, originally was intended as a brief segue into adulthood and has since become a widely accepted extended phase of self-exploration lasting well into our 20s (or even 30s).
With all of his dower statistics and prophecies, Bauerlein does not actually blame the millennial generation or technology per se. He, however, does turn to admonish the mentors (both formal and informal educators) for our deferment of educational leadership to technology (i.e. hours of approved ”screen time,” glorification of “electronic-literacy” as a replacement for traditional literacy, ignorant assumptions and interpretations of statistics…etc). Overall, Baurlein seems primarily concerned with the declining general intellect of the young population in relation to the direction of national leadership and intellectual competition with rising world powers. Pretentious title aside, the book is certainly worth your time.
So in this all-knowing-self-help-reference-book age of parenting, most of us realize how valuable it is to read to our kids and for our kids to spend time “reading” to themselves. But, in the overwhelming market of children’s literature, it can take a while to find what you want or anything new your kids (and of course yourself) might enjoy. So, I thought I would share some things that our kids are reading and enjoying — as are we. If any of you have any recommendations of your own, I would love to hear them.
Enticing to all of my children because of Eric Carle’s fabulously bright animal art, but this book also includes poems (written by various poets) about each depicted animal.
Ideal for toddler wiggles. I often read this to Blythe while we stand, so that she can perform all the “activities.” Each of my children has loved this book (along with Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? & Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear?).
A classic. The kids love the pictures and silly poems. Obviously they miss out on Silverstein’s frequent play on words.
The boys love looking through this book’s detailed pictures. As the title says, it follows one street through history giving a broad picture of the evolution of society. Along this same line, they also love the World History Encyclopedia: New Millennium Edition (obviously slightly outdated, but works for the other 4 million year it covers). Beware of apparently small questions that may be impossible to explain to preschoolers with limited terms and knowledge of history, i.e. “Mom, what’s fascism?” or “What happened in World War II?”
Full of bright, cheerful pictures, this book introduces the characters and mini-stories in the Bible, but intertwines them together revealing the bigger picture of the Bible: Christ.
(No Picture) A Child’s Swiss Family Robinson by Joan Marlow Todd
I just started reading this to the boys, as an alternative to the original. They love it. The chapters are manageable for their ages (at about 15-20 paragraphs) and pictures every other page or so.
This song keeps returning to me, and each time I hear it, I appreciate it’s poetic genius even more. This musician, Mark Mathis, personifies the ocean, describing his love affair with the moon, defending against wrongful accusations, mourning his loss of contained life, groaning for his creator — it’s beautiful. Listen to the actual song here, below are the lyrics. He also has another CD, WARSHIP, (cheesy, I know), but lyrically and musically, it’s very powerful and filled with the truth you want coarsing through your heart and prayers.
“I am the deep blue sea”
Sit down young children on my sandy shore — I am the deep blue sea
I have a story for every boy and girl — who will listen to me
You see, I was born in a thunderstorm and raindrop I felt so free
’til I was taken from the river I loved — she was like a mother to me
It’s true my waters are frought with danger — but I need you to believe
That I never hurt an honest sailer — or battered your home with my seas
That’s from the north wind, that’s from the south wind, that’s from the west and from the east
They trespass on me — they raise my fury — they make me foam and they make me boil
I have a friend
One that I love
Her name is the moon
She holds me close
When she get thirsty
I let her drink
When morning comes
I lay her back downto sleep
You may ask, child, how old I am — well, I’m as old as there is time
Anchors have scarred my deep blue heart and the whalemen robbed me bloind
End times are comin’ — I will give up all these souls that I have held
And in the firelight I will return to the place I did begin.
Being at least two feet smaller than most people around you must leave you with a sense of being unseen, and therefore unheard. That’s my only assumption for Burke’s volume level when he speaks. Even his whisper is loud. The other day I had Burke and Blythe at Target when Burke yelled (at a volume as if he were 10 feet away, only he was about 2), “Mom, I HAVE to POOOOOP!” He repeated, “I REALLLY have to POOOOP!” all the way to the restroom, in spite of my reassurance that we were, in fact, heading to the toilet. I think everyone in Target knew Burke had to poop. So, we rushed in to the first clean stall, so he can go about — well, you know. Only, then he proclaims (in his booming voice) as he points to the stall next to us, “PEEE-UUUU, it STINKS in here. Smells like this guy (a girl actually) is POOPING.” Poor lady.
The picture above has nothing to do with his noise level, except that he’s silently sleeping with a BOOK ON HIS FACE. Funny.
But, really, these kids love noise. What? I can’t hear you. Turn it up.
They especially can’t get enough punk music, thanks to Mark. Right now, they sing ”don’t lose touch” by against me incessantly (the song is below for affect), and anytime we turn it on, it’s all out rockfest in the living room. The boys start strumming their light sabers like their guitars, and Blythe dances around singing “ohhhh-ohhhh.” There’s something strangely hilarious about preschoolers singing “I’m losin’ touch.” We need a video camera.
music is the shorthand of emotion. — Leo Tolstoy
Can you imagine life without music? I remember that scene in Shawshank Redemption where Tim Robbins’ character breaks into the warden’s office and plays the opera record, and how every tough jailbird stops, mesmerized by the beauty of the music. That’s how I feel when I listen to Sigur Ros: somewhere inside of me, a secret army of unspoken expressions, waiting patiently to emote, are finally recognized and liberated. Sigur Ros accomplishes aurally what Radiohead does lyrically: it beautifully portrays the plight of my humanness. And because I am a person who really relishes my independence, it can be healthy for me to remember the devastation of self-reliance. Wow. That sounded dower. All I mean is that it’s good for me to remember that I am who I am and where I am because the Lord salvaged this destined-for-death-self and imparted – life.
I can’t understand a word that they’re singing; it’s a combination of Icelandic (their native language) and Hopelandic (a language they’ve created). But, I take complete imaginary license with their music, using it to say, or sing, what I want. I hope they don’t mind.
Anyway, Sigur Ros released a DVD this last November, Heima. In it they filmed a series of 15 or so FREE concerts that they performed in Iceland at the end of their last world tour. They wanted to give back to the people (so incredible). So, they traveled to sporadic places in the mountains, towns, grasslands, etc. of Iceland to play, filmed it, and released this DVD. This is the higher quality trailer, or you can watch it below on youtube. It’s a fantastic film. Well, I suppose only if you enjoy their music — and I have friends who don’t. No harm done.
Filed under: books/music/film
We finally rented and watched Once the other night. This independent, modern musical takes place in Dublin over the period of a week. I know the word musical conjures all sorts of images of awkward songs exchanged between characters, or scenes of group dancing (all of which I enjoy), but this film is different; the music, which is beautiful, naturally and authentically tells the stories of both main characters, each struggling in their minimal existence. It inspires, heals, and propels them when they both needed it. It’s a short film that’s shot mostly with a handheld camera (might make you a little dizzy at times), but it’s simple, real, and completely believable. It is slow at some points, but in my opinion, completely worth watching.
This book is about personalities. What do I think about it? Let’s just say that I have been reading, rereading, thinking about, and internalizing this book for the last year. I know — it’s a little strange. I guess that’s why I don’t bring it up too often in conversation. I’ve found that most people are comfortable with what they already know about themselves and perceive these types of books (and people who read them) as only seeking to label, categorize, excuse, or validate them. They abhor the idea that someone else might restrain them to a “box.” But, this book isn’t about boxing people in; rather, this book is about freedom.
Never have we been so aware or sensitive about difference. We live in a time of political correctness. We know that everyone is unique: we think, believe, act, learn, and talk differently. Yet, we often project our own self onto others, right? We relate to people on our terms, in our own relational “language.” We impose our values and interests on others, assuming that they value the same things. I’m doing it right now. You see, I’m an idealist. According to Keirsey, the idealists value seeking identity. So, of course, I naturally assume that everyone else would find this book as valuable and revelatory as I do. Wrong.
So, what exactly is the point or value of this book? Well, as Patty Griffin sings, “’cause everyone’s singing they just want to be heard disappearing everyday without so much as word.” We can actually live our entire lives (in relationships with people) and never really feel heard or known. The value of this book is that it gives us tools to understand not just that we’re different, but how we’re different; it gives us contexts so that we can know and be known. So, if it’s true that everyone has something to say and a need to be heard, we can actually listen, understand, and receive them rather than strive to convince them or change them to be more like ourselves. Imagine.
