The Good Word

"I have now a library of nearly 900 volumes over 700 of which I wrote myself—"

- Henry David Thoreau

________________________________

The above quotation, taken from Thoreau’s personal journal, refers to the author’s effort to self-fund a publication of his book A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers. After the work failed to sell, the published presented Thoreau with the 700 surplus copies.

This entry shows Thoreau’s humorous detachment despite the fact that in the mid-nineteen century self-publishing required an extraordinary investment with similarly grave risks attached to it.

Today, however, that is not the case.

In, fact a relatively new website called CreateSpace is making sure that anyone can self-publish at little to no risk by ensuring that books are printed only as they are ordered.

The problem? It seems that plenty of basement-dwelling entrepreneurs are using this service to re-publish works in the public domain and then to sell them on Barnes & Noble and Amazon while undercutting the paperbacks of their incorporated competitors.

This means that my copy of The Everlasting Man by G.K. Chesterton, which I ordered on Amazon and paid around $15 for has approximately two spelling errors on every page and quite possibly might not even have the same general content as the original text.

Take a look. Would you discern this to be a fraud? Admittedly the fact that they call him Gilbert is a hint, but I wasn’t on my guard at the time.

How about a “for instance” to put this all in perspective?

Searching for A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court on Amazon, here is a rundown of the publishers of the first page of results:

1. digireads.com, an independent (i.e. basement dweller) internet publisher
2. CreateSpace
3. FQ Books (non-existent publishing company)
4. Oxford University Press
5. Paramount’s film starring Bing Crosby
6. Kindle Edition
7. FQ Books (Part 2)
8. Library of American’s Twain collection
9. CliffsNotes
10. Saddleback (Children’s Edition)
11. Another movie
12. Piccadilly Books (A seemingly real company that is nearly a year old)
13. FQ Books
14. FQ Books
15. University of California Press
16. FQ Books

The Rundown:

Of the results that were actually physical, unabridged books, right around 70% of the first page of results are from non-existent publishers.

I found this percentage to ring true when I surveyed the books purchased online by my students for summer reading.

And who is making this possible? Take a look at the lower right-hand corner of CreateSpace’s homepage:

That would be our beloved Amazon.com ensuring that between Kindle and CreateSpace every legitimate publisher will be out of business within a decade.

But why am I all fired up about this?

1. It hurts legitimate publishers, which means that even if you fight it by patronizing actual bookstores, the majority of people who don’t take this precaution will still exert enough buying power to take down publishing companies.
2. You have no recourse when you end up buying a crappy edition (Amazon gives you no phone number, no physical or e-mail address by which you can contact the basement dweller).
3. Amazon is encouraging it, probably because they can take a higher percentage of the profit from every book sale by double-dipping as publisher and marketer.
4. Like music piracy, there is no real way to prevent millions of individuals from taking part in it.
5. Unlike music piracy, you may or may not get a legitimate copy.
6. Unlike music piracy, it isn’t actually illegal.

So, what do we do? Have you been taken in by this scam?

Leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Just got back from a midweek happy hour with some friends, and while my Fat Tuesday wasn’t exactly tipping the scales, I would call it at least chubby, or euphemistically “comfy.”

So, after the bell tolls 12 tonight I’m done with alcohol for the next 40 days (well, 47 technically, but Sundays are feast days).

I’ve been teaching my 7th grade Latin students about the Olympian gods lately and, coincidentally, today we talked about Dionysus, god of wine.

During my time at Hillsdale College I never thought my work warranted bragging, but the paper I was most proud of was one I wrote on Dionysus/Bacchus and his presence in Antigone and the Theban cycle in general. While this is thought-provoking to approximately 2 of you, I’d like to put forward as a discussion point the fact that Dionysus is both the god of wine and of madness (bakkeia).

Also, to be as brief as I can today, I’d like to present to you the greatest thoughts ever thunk on the subject of potent potables.

Jim Brewer on How Not to Get Sick

Barenaked Ladies - “Alcohol” (the definitive work on bibulous beverages)

Dave Matthews - “Bartender Please” (the least theologically sound discussion of The Last Supper, ever)

Finally, does it make anyone else angry that paczki is pronounced pOOnch-kEE? Man, that ruined Lent for me two years ago.

“When it comes to relationships, I’m the dumbest one,
And I don’t mean just with girls, I mean with everyone.
Your illustrations always point out just what’s wrong with me,
It’s chapstick and chapped lips and things like chemistry.

I’m not a fan of Christian rock. The fact that it has to be labeled as such, and given it’s own radio station so that it doesn’t have to compete against the All-American Rejects, is a pretty good indication that it fundamentally falls short of both epithets. I do, however, really like Relient K. But what makes them different?

Well, primarily it’s the fact that they’re actually good. If you’ve ever heard “I Can Only Imagine” you know that no rendition of that song has ever been pleasing to God, ever.

What? Come on Zach, that song is all about God, and doesn’t God like all hymns? I’m no prophet, but I’m pretty sure that the answer is a resounding “No.”

How do I know? Because reason and experience have given me at least a rough idea of who God is. God, even if you don’t intellectually assent to any of his other attributes, is the only being that exists for his own sake, the only uncreated thing, and the source of all that is created. He’s the definition of beauty, truth, and goodness because he is the source of existence itself.

As the author of creation, God wants us to use the powers he has given us for the sake of bettering and beautifying the world. The problem is that there is nothing uplifting or beautiful about “I Can Only Imagine.” There just isn’t. Nothing about it that acknowledges human dignity or divine charity.

On the other hand, there is something beautiful about things like “Stairway to Heaven,” the movie “Dumb and Dumber,” and The Office. Not that I think these examples are the pinnacle of human achievement, but they have done far more for humanity – making us laugh, stirring our emotions, and acknowledging the beauty of human life – than any repetitious and meaningless worship song ever has.

So, what makes Relient K different? Well, unlike tunes such as “Blessed Be Your Name,” “Mary Did You Know?” and, Heaven help us, “Jesus Take the Wheel,” their songs actually combine musical talent with a meaningful understanding of what humans actually love, think about, and strive for.

Today’s song of the day is about losing a cellphone at an amusement park, and yet it asks much of listener. It acknowledges that man is the sort of being that wonders how he has the ability to write a symphony and yet gets chapped lips, how he can love roller coasters and be entrusted with the task of seeking the truth about his world and his creator, and how he can be given a conscience which tells him he ought to be perfect, but a will that causes him to fall so short of that perfection.

Just like the Bible Study that teaches an 8-year-old that “Jesus” is the correct answer to any question, bad Christian music, art, T.V., and literature (a gross misuse of the word) gets by on stock answers that do nothing but encourage the sort of shallow facade that is not only useless to man, but displeasing to God.

Can I relate to you the way you relate to me?
Can you help me out with my chemistry?
I don't want to be perceived the way I am,
I just want to be perceived the way I am.

Men, we’re down to t-minus 8 hours until V-Day.

We all know that this isn’t the only time of the year we’re asked to show how masculine we are by being as feminine as we possibly can (i.e. being able to pick out a floral arrangement, use our scrapbooking skills to put together a homemade card, or cook a meal that doesn’t involve any of the three food groups - beer, red meat, and Cool Ranch Doritos).

It is, however, the only time of the year that every other guy in the world is stuck in the same predicament. And by same predicament, we mean that we’re competing against all other men. To do what? You guessed it: Prove how feminine we are. 

To help you cope with the impending disaster, let’s begin by identifying where you are in the holiday-hating process.

The Seven Stages

of

Valentine’s Day

1. Denial – This first stage of hatred begins the first time it dawns on you that Valentine’s Day exists, and that it is primarily for people who are not you.

For me, this stage began at my first elementary school Valentine’s Day Dance. Having never before identified with word “dance” as a multi-person activity, when I realized that we had been lured into that gymnasium for a purpose other than consuming copious amounts of flavored sugar, I was distraught. I proceeded to slowly discover the meaning of the word wallflower until my mom picked me up.

Note: That was also the first day I encountered the Macarena. And, it might just be me, but I’m pretty sure that throughout my elementary school career we had “Mandatory Macarena” on Fridays - kind of like when Japanese office workers do calisthenics on the roof of their office building – awkward and communesque (patented).

Possible coping mechanism: Abusing the opportunity to make festive crafts.

Having discovered previously that the opportunity cost of listening to the 8 steps necessary making paper snowflakes was not worth the trouble, I used my failed experiments to create “snow monsters” (fractions of paper snowflakes with snake eyes, fangs and claws). The Valentine’s line was called “love bugs” (insects made from misshapen hearts).

2. Anger –The second time around though, you see Valentine’s Day coming from a mile away. And, just like watching the needle when you are getting a shot, it only serves to spread the pain over a longer period of time.

This time you know exactly how important it is to be intentional about dealing out your box of Ninja Turtle/Power Ranger/Tiny Toon valentines. All the mushy/suggestive ones (“I Love You Like I Love Pizza”) need to immediately go to your best friends. The utterly ambivalent ones (“Hope Your Valetine’s Day Is Totally Tubular”) go to the girls who need that clear-cut message. Then, there is one level of Valentine, not too suggestive, but not funny either, to be given to that one girl you actually have a crush on.

There is no right way to divide a box of 32 valentines correctly. You have to give one to every kid in class and you inevitably will send at least one mixed message.

Once you’ve deposited your cards in your classmates boxes all there is to do is hope that 1) Nobody else got the same kind of valentines as you (utter disgrace), and 2) Analyze the valentines you receive, along with your friend’s, to get an idea of how other kids ranked you.

Possing coping mechanism: Get your mom to buy bags of “fun size” M&Ms that just have a “To” and “From” line on the back. No ambiguity. No tension. Just sugar.

3. Guilt – While Valentine’s Day is certainly frustrating to the average, cootie-fearing elementary/middle schooler, it only gets worse from there.

The first time you actually have a girlfriend on Valentine’s Day all the resentment and anger turns quickly to fear and self-loathing.

Your lawn-mowing money from the summer has run out, your birthday is a long way off, and you spent your Christmas money on LEGOS for the 8th year running. What to do?

Possible coping mechanism: The only way I’ve ever had this work out for me is by covering all the bases: something personal, something permanent, and something perishable.

Personal means something, preferably handmade, that demonstrates an intimate knowledge of the significant other. Permanent means jewelry (or stuffed animal depending on duration of relationship). Perishable means a trip, a movie, a meal, candies, or flowers.

Include all three, or suffer the consequences. Borrow money from your parents.

4. Depression – At some time or another we all spend Valentine’s Day alone. So, since your first girlfriend dumped you for Brett Bretterson or whatever his name was that did that sport so well, you’ve got to make it through a dry spell for the next 1 to 53 years.

Possibly coping mechanisms: Go out with your buddies to the nearest pub/arcade/comicbook store/shooting range and just enjoy being men.

On the bright side, if you can drink/game/eat away the tears, this will be the cheapest Valentine’s Day(s) of your life.

You’ll look back on this day and wonder why you can’t go back.

If your buddies are all coupled up, there is only one recourse left to you. Wallow. Wallow hard. Listen to the most depressing music you can find and eat freezer tots until you feel sick.

5. Forgiveness – Ahhh… All the pressure of first love and loneliness have disappeared. You’ve reached the plateau otherwise known as the “first legitimate relationship.”

You’re finally dating a girl your mom likes and that you can actually see yourself growing boring with. At this point you’re so pleased that someone of the fairer sex is talking to you that you’re actually happy when Valentine’s Day comes around so that you can show them how much you care.

You’ve got the rule of three down (see step 3). You’ve got a modest piece of jewelry in your coat pocket, a bouquet of flowers in your hand, and you’re off to see a play. Life is good – for the first and only time.

Possible coping mechanism: Go through old love letters and yearbooks to give yourself some perspective. Know that one woman liking you for one year does not make up for hundreds of women disliking you for two decades.

6. Acceptance – Marriage is the first and finest institution on the planet. Now that the crush that became the girlfriend has now become the wife you’ve got new problems.

In your early years you are poor. A dishwasher for Valentine’s Day? A blender? Well, you can’t justify spending the money on entertainment, but a ratchet set just isn’t very romantic. Don’t you wish you had the money to burn?

No, you don’t. Once you’ve got a little money in the bank you can buy whatever you want or need year-round, leaving very little to hold over each other’s heads for the big day.

Possible coping mechanism: Too late. Go to marriage, go directly to marriage. Do not pass fun. Do not collect any more comic books.

7. Recovery – While step 6 does tend to last longer than any of the rest, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Walk towards the light.

And never fear, old age has it’s benefits.

Inevitable coping mechanism: Benefits like not being able to leave your house without fearing that you’ll break your hip. Like having your spouse become so forgetful that she has no idea what year it is, much less that it’s the 14th of February. Like eventually leaving a world that invented an emasculating holiday just to sell greeting cards.

So enjoy the next 24 hours, men.

They might be your last.

Disclamer – I really am this bitter. I mean every word of it. Every. Word.

Wow. I am presently blown away by Kate Micucci, this week’s guest star on Scrubs.

Playing Stephanie Gooch, Ted’s ukulele-weilding love-interest (a peripheral, though hopefully recurring, character), Kate not only stole every scene she was in, but even overcame a great Dr. Cox-centered storyline and claimed for herself the title of the episode, “My Lawyer’s In Love.”

Whether you’ve already seen the show or not, you need to check out this extended version of Ted and Stephanie’s duet as captured in the Scrubs Interns webseries (PG-13):

Immediately after watching the episode, I headed to YouTube to hear this song again. YouTube then led me to the rest of Kate’s video repertoire, including her work with Riki Lindhome in the acoustic-comedy duo Garfunkel and Oates, and the the enthrallingly cute solo piece, “Dear Deer”:

YouTube in turn led me to Kate’s personal site, where I found her 5-song EP “Songs” for sale and immediately snatched it up. Though it only amounts to a little less than 12 minutes of music, every second of it is enjoyable.

Irrepressibly  cute, incredibly witty, and seemingly a reasonable person too, Kate deserves 15 minutes of your time today.

Check out the videos above and head over to Garfunkel and Oates’ MySpace page (and I NEVER endorse MySpace) and check out the “Worst Songs Ever Medley” and “Present Face.”

I’m looking forward to seeing her again on Scrubs, and to the Southwestern US tour (with a stop in Colorado Springs) she owes me for writing this post.

Let me know what you think of her, or better yet let Kate know.

P.S. Since Kate isn’t on Playlist.com, if you’d like to hear this post’s title-song, head to Kate’s MySpace page.