Tag: Christmas

As this Country Still Refuses to Sacrifice Themselves, in any way, keep in mind the soldiers deployed and their families here!

At Meeting yesterday, the subject of raising children found its way into the messages of many.  Prompted perhaps by the presence of happy children singing Christmas carols early into worship, vocal ministry focused on the dual blessing and challenges of parenthood.  Many moving, emotionally rich stories were shared.   Each of them had a common thread, but each also stood separately by themselves as their own unique offering.  Much wisdom and humor was present as well, and I am a fan of both.  As some contemplated the fragility of the infant Jesus, it seemed fitting that this would be the unofficial subject of the day.  When it works well, the exercise in instantaneous revelation that is most Quaker worship is a rich, multi-layered experience, one that, in this instance, left several in tears.  

One of the more revolutionary innovations in lighting is the Light Emitting Diode, or LED.  This cutting edge technology was first discovered 103 years ago!  However, only comparatively recently have LEDs been either efficient or cheap enough for wide use.

LEDs operate just like any other diode, allowing an electric current to pass, for the most part, in only one direction.  They are built by placing into contact a P-type (positive) and an N-type (negative) semiconductor and passing a current from the N to the P materials.  In the case of LEDs, when the electrons and holes recombine, light is emitted.  In most diodes, heat is emitted.  Actually, LEDs do produce some heat as well and this becomes important for reasons to be discussed later.

Original article, by David Lindorff and subtitled An Afghan Christmas, via counterpunch.com:

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the land

Not a creature was stirring in Afghanistan.

The bedrooms were bunkered with piles of hard stones

To protect from attacks by the Predator drones.

The children were huddled, afraid, in their beds

While visions of night raiders danced in their heads.

Unfortunately appropriate for the season.

(thanks for the kind words over at the GOS, TheMomCat!)

Among the mouth-breathingest of mouth-breathing Republicans, it’s a well-known fact that every November or so, we libruls gather in our covens and plot the paganization of Christmas.  In their Left Behind-style fantasies, we are the legions of Satan, come upon the Earth to foist secular ideas and Godless traditions upon the flock of the Lamb.  Only the Bible stands in defense of the faithful against the pernicious attacks of the heathen First Amendment, as we the befouled seek to eradicate every trace of monotheism from our once-God-fearing civilization.  Each year, the scarred veterans of the (self-)Right(eous) stir their zealots to action, and in public squares and mangers throughout the land, battles over the soul of American culture are waged.  

As in all wars, sometimes an enemy’s gallantry on the field of battle impresses even a bitter foe – Napoleon, remarking on the Russian cavalry then crashing into his lines, said “Now these are Kossacks!”.  Rather like the Confederates at Pickett’s Charge, they may be trying to storm a solid position in the name of a dubious set of causes, but we have to respect the temerity it takes to throw oneself into the breach for an issue one really doesn’t understand.

While I and millions of DC residents are cleaning up after a huge snow storm, I look out my window this morning and notice strangers giving aid and assistance to drivers of cars stuck out in the wintry mix.  Stodgy, suspicious, ponderous Washington has momentarily set aside its default setting to lend a hand.  It is only when events this big and massive disrupt the status quo that this city shrinks in size and shared humanity begins to creep into the proceedings.  DC is a city full of cross-currents and diversity, so it is rare that anyone is truly on the same page with another for very long.  A Type A city ruled by Type A people means that often everyone is in a hurry going nowhere for no good reason, utterly consumed with their work to the detriment of every other facet of their lives.  Though retailers will undoubtedly even lose money here in these crucial days leading up to Christmas, I can’t say that I am entirely saddened by the development.      

Had this been any average year, the media would have run half a dozen stories (or more) gently chiding us for again, yet another year, completely destroying the meaning of the Christmas season.  Many of us would assume our time-honored roles, mournfully nodding our heads up in down to signify that we agreed, but could find no solution to stop the orgiastic aspects of capitalism from overrunning the most important of holidays.  A recession ought not only provide purely negative consequences.  If we can learn from it, then all is not lost.  If we are to face discomfort and pain, my hope is that we can understand that simplicity is a virtue, not a hindrance, and that accumulating possessions is a bit like accumulating inches of snow.  In the beginning, it’s fun, but after a while, it begin to pose a serious problem.  Not only that, others who believe in the grass is greener principle have a tendency to envy accumulation without understanding its notable drawbacks.

I personally am enjoying fewer crowds, less traffic, and less panicked looks.  That it took a weakened economy and with it the loss of buying power surprises me not a bit.  If the free market promised freedom from producing more problems than it fixes, I would be wholeheartedly in its corner.  Some of the strongest people I ever met were those of my grandparents’ generation, who had faced a Great Depression and a World War, and whose iron resolve and stoic attitude showed the results of having gone fifteen rounds with hardship and tragedy and emerged stronger than steel.  No shrinking violets were they.    

As for these times, the only time I saw anything remotely similar to the traditional Christmas insanity was Friday of this past week, shortly before the snow fell, when thousands upon thousands of residents in our nation’s capital rushed madly to scoop up enough provisions and finish up their seasonal shopping.  Everyone seems to be cutting back this year and I certainly am as well.  Some have mentioned that the tinsel and electric excitement that requires a robust pocketbook is lacking, making this a bummer of a Season’s Greetings, at which point I suppose I have to note that I have grown so cynical about Christmas reality that I have embraced a kind of deliberately sparse rendering.  All that twinkles is not gold.  Some might assume that less money in the bank is the true War on Christmas™, though I believe that to be the overwhelming opinion of bankers.          

The generation of my parents’ parents have been romanticized as “The Greatest Generation” but while the moniker is fitting, I saw nothing particularly superhuman about them.  They were indebted to the same flaws as humanity has displayed ever since humans began to walk upright.  If we faced the same challenges and abject perils as they, I am firmly convinced that we too would respond the identical way they did.  The human body and the human mind have a way of being incredibly adaptive to adversity.  It is fashionable in some circles to take pot shots at Baby Boomers or their children out of some desire to shame us all into acting properly or that we might better appreciate that which has fallen into our lap, but I will refrain from that line here.  We have been incredibly fortunate, certainly, but neither do I think beating us over the head with our privilege is much of a solution.  My hope is that we will retain the memory of what it felt like to not revel in excess and that we will apply those examples to our own lives and to the lives of those who we directly influence.    

If this were truly some pitched battle against all that is sacred and holy against Christmas, then the true enemies would not be a secular society gone wildly astray, having embraced the confusion of political correctness.  Instead, the enemies would be those people and things which fool us into thinking that we are the center of the universe and that there is no need to take into account the lives and struggles of our fellow beings.  As I said before, 364 days out of the year, this city runs on the twin forces of preoccupation and workaholicism, but it has only been now when the roads are still largely impassible, many businesses and places are still unreachable or closed, and public transportation is barely functional that we recognize the folly of our ways.  Still, I imagine a thousand nervous fingers madly punching keys on their Blackberries, expecting a fresh batch of places to go, people to see, and things to do.  

I know personally of many people who believe that bringing their work home with them aids and assists those in need.  Worthy causes exist, of course, and the belief among many is working themselves to death provides help to those who would otherwise not have it.  I know others who have built their entire self-esteem, self-image, and self in their vocation, at the expense of any other facet in their life.  This is tragedy to the extreme.  We lose our humanity when we become robotic and monolithic.  DC needs a snow day like this to re-think its priorities and my hope is that it doesn’t take a series of blizzards, both literal and figurative, to change the conventional wisdom.