From Ape to Woman, by the Grace of God

Today's New York Times published an Op-Ed article, by Sam Brownback, a Republican Senator from Kansas who is running for President. Now. There are a lot of things that I tend to disagree with when it comes to the average views of Republican Senators from Kansas. Choice comes to mind immediately. Wars in Iraq is another one. Most questions of foreign policy. Affirmative action in higher education -- I bet we don't see eye-to-eye on that, either. But the first thing I think of when I think of Republicans (Senators or not) from Kansas, is probably evolution.

As a small child, I was indoctrinated with repeat showings of the film version of the play Inherit the Wind. For those of you who did not spend your childhood tucked in with classic courtroom drama cinema, the movie is an adaptation of a play, which is in turn a dramatization of the 1925 Scopes “monkey” trial. John Scopes was a high school science teach prosecuted for teaching from a textbook that referred to evolution, in violation of the Butler Act of 1925, a Tennessee law expressly forbidding curriculum that references that scientific theory:

"... that it shall be unlawful for any teacher in any of the Universities, Normals and all other public schools of the State which are supported in whole or in part by the public school funds of the State, to teach any theory that denies the story of the Divine Creation of man as taught in the Bible, and to teach instead that man has descended from a lower order of animals."

As far as I can tell, not much has changed. The teaching of evolution, eve as theory, continues to be assaulted. In the meantime, the U.S. continues to slip behind in the teaching of science in schools. And people wonder why jobs are moving overseas.

Everything I learn about science strengthens my faith, and it offends me that the teaching of science could ever be perceived as a threat to Christianity. Seeing the size of a blue whale, looking at the crusted shadows on the moon, seeing the tiniest living creatures through a microscope. My reaction to that is sheer amazement and the incredible world God made for us.. made for us to learn about and explore, and discuss.

Having said that, I was impressed by Sen. Brownback's articulation of his position on evolution. I was jolted to find our own views are not that different. Who's to say what causes genetic mutations that give rise to the development of new species? I have no problem crediting God with the spark that first caused a bunch of molecules to turn into "life" on this planet.

While our views on the subject still don't quite match up, I have to say he's caught me off guard with the whole "not all people who believe the world was created by God believe it happened in six 24-hour days" thing. And I have to admit, I really did think of creationists as people who interpret the Bible literally. Apparently I was doing some narrow-minded stereotyping of my own, and his perspective really showed me that.

"What I Believe About Evolution" by Sen. Sam Brownback

In our sound-bite political culture, it is unrealistic to expect that every complicated issue will be addressed with the nuance or subtlety it deserves. So I suppose I should not have been surprised earlier this month when, during the first Republican presidential debate, the candidates on stage were asked to raise their hands if they did not “believe” in evolution. As one of those who raised his hand, I think it would be helpful to discuss the issue in a bit more detail and with the seriousness it demands.

The premise behind the question seems to be that if one does not unhesitatingly assert belief in evolution, then one must necessarily believe that God created the world and everything in it in six 24-hour days. But limiting this question to a stark choice between evolution and creationism does a disservice to the complexity of the interaction between science, faith and reason.

The heart of the issue is that we cannot drive a wedge between faith and reason. I believe wholeheartedly that there cannot be any contradiction between the two. The scientific method, based on reason, seeks to discover truths about the nature of the created order and how it operates, whereas faith deals with spiritual truths. The truths of science and faith are complementary: they deal with very different questions, but they do not contradict each other because the spiritual order and the material order were created by the same God.
People of faith should be rational, using the gift of reason that God has given us. At the same time, reason itself cannot answer every question. Faith seeks to purify reason so that we might be able to see more clearly, not less. Faith supplements the scientific method by providing an understanding of values, meaning and purpose. More than that, faith — not science — can help us understand the breadth of human suffering or the depth of human love. Faith and science should go together, not be driven apart.

The question of evolution goes to the heart of this issue. If belief in evolution means simply assenting to microevolution, small changes over time within a species, I am happy to say, as I have in the past, that I believe it to be true. If, on the other hand, it means assenting to an exclusively materialistic, deterministic vision of the world that holds no place for a guiding intelligence, then I reject it.

There is no one single theory of evolution, as proponents of punctuated equilibrium and classical Darwinism continue to feud today. Many questions raised by evolutionary theory — like whether man has a unique place in the world or is merely the chance product of random mutations — go beyond empirical science and are better addressed in the realm of philosophy or theology.

The most passionate advocates of evolutionary theory offer a vision of man as a kind of historical accident. That being the case, many believers — myself included — reject arguments for evolution that dismiss the possibility of divine causality. Ultimately, on the question of the origins of the universe, I am happy to let the facts speak for themselves. There are aspects of evolutionary biology that reveal a great deal about the nature of the world, like the small changes that take place within a species. Yet I believe, as do many biologists and people of faith, that the process of creation — and indeed life today — is sustained by the hand of God in a manner known fully only to him. It does not strike me as anti-science or anti-reason to question the philosophical presuppositions behind theories offered by scientists who, in excluding the possibility of design or purpose, venture far beyond their realm of empirical science.

Biologists will have their debates about man’s origins, but people of faith can also bring a great deal to the table. For this reason, I oppose the exclusion of either faith or reason from the discussion. An attempt by either to seek a monopoly on these questions would be wrong-headed. As science continues to explore the details of man’s origin, faith can do its part as well. The fundamental question for me is how these theories affect our understanding of the human person.

The unique and special place of each and every person in creation is a fundamental truth that must be safeguarded. I am wary of any theory that seeks to undermine man’s essential dignity and unique and intended place in the cosmos. I firmly believe that each human person, regardless of circumstance, was willed into being and made for a purpose. While no stone should be left unturned in seeking to discover the nature of man’s origins, we can say with conviction that we know with certainty at least part of the outcome. Man was not an accident and reflects an image and likeness unique in the created order. Those aspects of evolutionary theory compatible with this truth are a welcome addition to human knowledge. Aspects of these theories that undermine this truth, however, should be firmly rejected as an atheistic theology posing as science. Without hesitation, I am happy to raise my hand to that.

New York Times, May 31, 2007

Aquariums are fantastic places, and the Seattle Aquarium is no exception.

























It was pretty quiet when we were there, and sometimes when you're standing in a room surrounded by tanks, you can hear the soft whirr of the machinery of the tanks and a gentle swish of the water, it feels a lot like being in an empty church.

Heavenly Bed

Vancouver/Seattle trip was great. Slow half-marathon time but I'm learning to deal with that. This was my first time to Canada. It's probably not fair to judge an entire country by one city, but then again, I was judging it before I left, too. As far as I can tell, it's like the Lite version of America.

But the main reason we were there was for JFJ's 26.2 mile triumph! He set a PR at Vancouver with a fabulous 3:54 finish. The nice thing about the two of us running different events is that there is clearly one person who is hurting and one person who is helping. So after my race I was able to go back to the hotel, shower, pack a bag of post-race essentials, get the rental car, drive to the finish area, park, and still be there to cheer him on at the last half-mile. He was really a broken man after the race and after we got back to the hotel we put him in the shower and then I ordered room service while he got cleaned up. I wrapped him in one of the fluffy robes and then the food arrived. We ate it just like you see here, lying in bed and eating off the tray. He looked like this for about 20 seconds and then he fell into a dead sleep. We were both really happy that we had all the food and the fluffy towels, and we appreciated it because we came very close to having to share the bathroom with strangers.

You can see from this photo how important it is to stay somewhere nice when you are in town for an endurance event. JFJ had originally suggested we stay at "the Y." Now, don't be confused and think that I mean "the W," the swank urban hipster hotel chain. No, the letter stands for "YWCA" which I actually thought was a halfway house, but apparently is (also?) a budget hotel. With shared bathrooms. Uh huh. Needless to say, I balked and booked us a room at the Westin, home of the Heavenly Bed, double-head showers, room service, and of course fluffy robes. So I guess that's what I like about this photo. It shows me being right, and I'm not even in it.

Bay to Breakers Highlights

Before the race, we saw a group of faux "anti-running" protesters advocating walking:

Unfortunately, JFJ gave the camera to a woman with Parkinsons so the photo of all of us isn't great:
I think I'd just call this photo God Bless America: "The Mane Attraction" boy band, complete with boom box belting out cheesy pop tunes:

The lovely "ladies" of Hooters, along with Paris Hilton in her jail outfit:

Needless to say, I couldn't get through the weekend without shaming myself at least once. The night before the Bay to Breakers we stayed at a hotel near SFO, so we could take the free airport shuttle and then BART into the city. We had a Ya Ya dinner in the Mission and I drank several gallons of sangria before we took BART back to SFO. We were waiting for the hotel shuttle to pick us up (I don't know what time it was, but we must have been on one of the last BART trains) and we were near International Arrivals. Remember at the beginning and the end of the movie Love Actually where there are real scenes of joyous reunions at London Heathrow? Well, a plane had just landed from Somewhere Far Away and there were some joyuos reunions involving very old people, small children, and much embracing. And people, I lost my shit at San Francisco Airport. I just started bawling. I don't know if it was the alcohol or the stress of trying to get everything organized for the race and getting around but I was absolutely sobbing. And drunk, which is always really classy. Drunk chick crying at TOTAL STRANGERS in airport. As Paris Hilton would say, "That's hot." But I got up the next morning at 6am and we completed the Bay to Breakers in hula skirts and feather boas so who are you to judge me?

I know I haven't posted in a while...

... but I've been very busy. And here's why:

In the waiting line.

You're not going to believe this, but the federal government has done something smart and efficient. There's an extremely useful function on the TSA site that allows you to check the average wait time for the security line at U.S. airports. It also tells you the maximum wait time so if you're a worry wart like me you won't worry about cutting it too close. It even specifies which line, so if there's one that's generally faster you'll know before you get there.

Speaking of airports, I'll be leaving bright and early tomorrow for Seattle where I get to spend a few days getting the tour of JFJ's Seattle, seeing law school gal pal Mel and kickin' it old skool style with The Notorious D.R.J.U. All that in 48 hours, after which we'll be heading up to Vancouver for the Vancouver Marathon. The doc says I'm only up for 13.1 so no full marathon for me. I hate being one of the crowd that peels out halfway but with my knee still hurting, I think I'll be glad to be done.

“I don’t know why we are here, but I’m pretty sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves.”
—Ludwig Wittgenstein

"You happen to pull this shit while I'm in a transitional period."

Your favorite movies. In 30 seconds. Reenacted by bunnies.

Check out Jaws - they just nail Richard Dreyfuss. Aliens and Star Wars are also nicely done. Princess Leia bunny ears! My favorites are the ones where the bunnies sing - the first few seconds of Highlander theme will make you mess your pants.

If you like that, check out the outtakes from recording the James Bond themes in bunny sound.

Which Grey's Anatomy character are you?

Now here’s a quiz I can get into.

Wanted to be:

Quiz thinks I am:

Ok, if you've seen the show you know this is highly inaccurate. I am not an insensitive career-driven commitment phobe. And don't you dare say I am or I will take you DOWN!

Ok, now you take it, and email your results to me so I can tell The Internet.

Our parents never had these problems.

Despite the fact that I haven't had an active profile on Match.com for several months, I continue to get almost daily email solicitations from them. They also send me the weekly report of "My Matches," people they think I'm likely to take my pants of for, or eventually procreate with. It kind of concerns me because JFJ is presumably getting these emails, too, since I originally met him on Match (albeit as a running buddy, but the point is that my boyfriend gets delivered to his email, on a regular basis, profiles of single women who live nearby and are looking for a man!). As I pondered this, it occurred to me that the Match former-member email marketing might work a little better if they actually geared the emails more towards our demographic. Emails with subject lines like, "Has she stopped putting out already? Upgrade to one of these!"

Today, a Match email invited me to take a test that started by identifying the relative lengths of my fingers:


The email promised that, "Using engaging questions like this, we determine your personality type and then provide you your most compatible matches." Wow, I'm really impressed that Match takes such a studied approach to pairing people up. Am I more or less likely to take my pants off for someone whose index finger is roughly the same length as their ring finger?

When I joined Match, my hand actually looked like this:

What do you think that says about my personality?

A little more than a vacation snapshot.

I'm on the last audio CD of The Places In Between, Rory Stewart's account of his 2002 walk across Afghanistan. Towards the end of his journey he meets a French photographer named Didier Lefevre, and his work is so intriguing I thought I should share it.

Monday Helpful Chick Tips Day

JNCis a f*cking rockstar when is comes to useful information (and switching jobs - SNAP!).

Useful tidbit numero uno: Clean out your closet and get rid of clothes you don't wear -- turn all your hangers in the opposite direction. In a year, or six months [depending on seasonality] if the hanger is still the same, throw out the garment b/c you haven't worn the item and it's time to get rid of it.*

Useful tip numero dos: The no-period pill. According to the New York Times, this is highly controversial. Really? For most women I know, your period is just a monthly "heads up" that no little swimmers have slipped past the goalie. The article states that "Doctors say they know of no medical reason women taking birth control pills need to have a period." Besides just a handy reminder that you're not knocked up, is there some non-health related reason to have a period? I don't know many women who "celebrate the period as a spiritual or natural process." It seems like most modern women are content to let periods be a thing of the past, so we can get back to slowly but surely taking over most sports, professions and real estate.

You can learn all about this at the site fewerperiods.com, which loses points for pretending to be a neutral provider of information when it is, in fact, the manufacturer's own site.

Curious to get your thoughts, gal pals. Is having a period part of the mystery and essence of womanhood? Or is that hippie bullsh*t?

*This was actually on Oprah but JNC vets Oprah and passes the good tips on to me.

One of my colleagues is taking her four year-old to Disneyland and announced her intention to write her cell phone number of the kid’s arm in sharpie, to aid in resolution if they were separated. Seems like a good idea.

Oddly, it reminded me of something I witnessed a few months ago at the Ross in Capitola. Now, if you’ve been to a Ross, you know that it’s a great place to go if you’re on the fence about sterilization because the amount of screaming, unsupervised children is just astonishing. Everytime I leave here I find myself on my hands and knees, begging strangers, "tie my tubes, please... someone... tie my tubes..." But Ross sometimes has fun, cheap shoes and when this drama began to unfold I was knee-deep in a pile of size 8’s, trying to find the other half of a pair of NineWest black slingbacks with white stitching. Rounded toe. Little ankle strap. $24.99. Lovely.

The music at Ross is purposefully annoying so you will buy something quick and get the hell out, just to avoid hearing Right Here Waiting one more time. Just as my ears were about to start bleeding from Up Where We Belong the loudspeaker crackled:

“Ross shoppers, your attention please. There is a little girl at the front counter who is missing her mom. She is waiting at the front counter for you.”

A couple minutes later…

“Attention, please. There is a little girl at the front counter who is lost. She has brown hair and is wearing a white shirt and red pants.” There is a pause, some muffled sounds and a different voice repeats the message in Spanish.

About five minutes pass. I find the other slingback but it won’t fit over the huge bunion on my right foot. I am cursing my genetic history in my head when I hear another announcement:

“There is a missing child at the front desk. Please look around and make sure your kids are with you. The parent of this child needs to come to the front of the store and collect your child immediately.”

Customers in the store start looking at each other and raising their eyebrows. Who hears a description of their kid called over the loudspeaker and doesn’t immediately run over? The woman next to me shakes her head, “People these days…” she mutters. I nod. She looks at me sharply, “It’s not your kid, is it?” I shake my head “no” vehemently. Later I will come up with the phrase, Bitch, does it look like this body has had a baby? Tragically I have not yet had occasion to use it.

A few more minutes go by before there is another announcement. This is a different voice, older and... pissed.

“There is a little girl here at the front counter who is lost. She will not tell us her name. She is very scared and if her mom is here you need to come get her right now. If you do not come get your child we will have to call the police.”

At this point everybody’s looking towards the front of the store. Sure enough, there’s a little girl up there. She has long brown hair and she’s probably about 4. She has some kind of toy with her which is the focus of her attention. She seems more nonchalant than scared. It looks like a couple of the employees are asking her questions but she just kind of looks at them. She ain’t talking. I know I’m not buying anything but I’m not going to leave while all this drama is playing out. I sidle over to sunglasses and wait to see what happens next.

“Attention, please. If know the little girl in the red pants and white shirt, you need to come get her, right now. This is not a babysitting service and we will call the police.”

I kept expecting someone to burst into the store hysterically: There you are! But no one does.

The little girl’s expression does not change as the announcements come over the loudspeaker. She continues to look down. Does she understand what's going on? I see a mom with a couple small kids with her prodding the little girl for her name but she doesn’t respond. The concerned mother’s kids hang back quietly, staring at the little girl. Their expressions are more wary than confused.

Every time the door opens the growing crowd surrounding the girl looks over, but no one who comes in seems to be missing a child. We know what we expect to see. We already have the resolution in our minds. A woman runs in, face streaked with tears. She’ll grab the little girl, the panic over, the relief visibly washing over her. Everyone will be relieved, the story will come out: She ran into the store while I wasn’t looking... I turned my back, just for a second... her brother was supposed to watch her…

Eventually I decide that maybe I’ve done enough rubbernecking of human tragedy for the day. There's no useful role for me here. I cast a glance towards the little girl as I leave. The woman whose appearance matches the old and pissed voice on the loudspeaker is on the phone, gesticulating angrily.

As I walk to my car the horror of the situation starts to hit home and a cold feeling spreads through my gut. What if it’s not just some kind of horrible mix-up? What if her mom really does just leave her kid in a store and go off on her own? What if she’s been abandoned? It occurs to me I don’t really know what would happen to this little girl.

As I drive out of the parking lot I see a Capitola police car slowly pull to stop outside the store. I don't know what happened after that.

My morning

8:03am -- Leave house.

8:14am -- Stop at Noah's, pick up bagels for the office and coffee for me.

8:22am -- Pick up ibuprofen at drugstore. Discuss relative merits of store brand versus Advil with stranger.

8:37am -- Arrive at work, arrange bagels in break room, chat with colleagues.

8:46am: -- Drop by boss's office, discuss meetings planned for the day.

9:02am -- Say hi to new temporary employee. Encourage her to have a bagel.

9:22am -- Look down and discover fly is unzipped and displaying red underwear to probably most of the people I've run into this morning.

Can I just point out how quickly it was translated into French?

I've been hearing a lot about the new book The No Asshole Rule by Robert Sutton. The book is about creating a work environment in which people with severally bad attitudes (in other words, jerks) are not allowed. From what I've read so far, by "not allowed" Sutton means they are fired or, better yet, not hired in the first place. I think this sounded like a great idea until I saw an online quiz that you can take to determine whether you are the asshole. It never occurred to me that it might be me until I had the opportunity to test it. As you might imagine, an online quiz doesn't really provide enough depth to root out assholism without asking pretty obvious questions. Still, it's a good tool to identify negative behavior - even if it's my own!

Are you an asshole? Take the test and find out.

How much mucus can the human body produce?

There wad no swibbing yesterday. I dink I have a cowd from my long, wet wide. Lots of node-blowing. Nostrils hurt.

That sloshing sound is coming from my shoes.

So I just completed my weekly Saturday ride with the tri team and I'm pleased to report that I'm still alive. Every time I leave for a ride I look around at my place one last time, half convinced it's the last time I'll ever see it. Since the forecast was for rain, I was more sure than ever that I was about to die in a gruesome accident. But I stoically accepted my fate and headed out the door.

This was the first ride in the rain. Normally rides are cancelled if it's raining but lucky us the rain didn't start until we were already on the road. We were riding up at UCSC and just got drenched. At least the views were great and it seems like people driving on campus are more used to cyclists than just on the roads around town.

Scary moment of the day: We stopped near the top of a hill and one of the other new riders asked the leader if he had any tips for riding in the rain before we headed downhill.

"Uh, yeah," he said, "Remember that the roads are really slick... and, uh, that your brakes don't work. Okay, let's go!"

Um, what? But we were already on the road, and had no choice but to just take it easy. As cold and wet as we were, a ride in a warm ambulance didn't sound that bad. At our next stop we had a group discussion about whether to keep going or cut the ride short. It was a brief discussion. We all got back safe and sound (and cold and wet), but triumphant.

Tomorrow is the swim workout where I will finally conquer the flip turns! Or drown. But hopefully conquer.

Eva Evermore

What’s your Bond Girl name?

Missed Conncection Comics

Likee? There's a whole book of 'em coming out.

Corner Store Haiku

NO ID
NO BEER
NO ARGUMENT
STILL FRIENDS

From the sign next to the register at the scruffy Days Market, with a cartoon below of two people smiling and shaking hands.