In the summer of 2000, when I was but 15 years old, I journed to K-State and spent a month living in the same residence hall I would come back to two years later. I was at KRHA, which is Kansas Regents Honors Academy, a summer program also known as "nerd camp" which gives kids the opportunity to take college level courses. It alternates between the six state colleges in Kansas (K-State, KU, Fort Hays State, Emporia State, Pittsburgh State, and Wichita State) and is completely free if you are accepted. You can buy course credit.
Our theme was "humanities" which kind of eludes me. It seemed to focus on high and mighty literature that we were expected to read. I also took a class on Violence in the Media which was pretty sick. I get that we were trying to analyze things, but it just seemed like watching a lot of strange, violent movies.
I don't know why I was thinking back to the books we read. I thought I'd share them with you - in case anyone wanted to pick up some meaningless college credit. There was value to a some.
Beggars in Spain
This was a fiction book, and science fiction to boot, so I loved it! We only read the first episode of a little trilogy. I think we should all read this book, because it is surprisingly starting to become relevant. It tells the story of a girl who was genetically engineered so that, not only would she be perfect, she would never have to sleep. It digs into the problems of jealousy she encountered, and also her own desire to understand the rest of us who do sleep. As people have more and more opportunities to custom make their children, this is a great book to help you think about some of the results.
Robinson Crusoe
Another fiction novel, this was pretty good. It kind of drags on, but it's a classic, so I can't really argue with that. And we all know the countless remakes of this story.
Amusing Ourselves to Death
Of all the non-fiction, I probably liked this one the best. And I would recommend it, because it is also pretty relevant. It talks about the increase in popularity of the media, and our dependence on it. It also talks about how we have developed ADD, that a scene in a TV show or movie now is on average less than a minute, and any given screen shot is less than three seconds. It challenged us to watch the news and look at it deeper to see how it had become the bread of the masses. Our teachers showed us a news clip, first with the words, and then with the sound muted, to show us how funny the video clips that go along with the nightly newscasts can be. All in all, you learn to see the sensationalism of it. As more and more people spend time in front of the computer (look where I am) or TV or playing video games, this book is very relevant to dive into some of those issues.
Imagined Communities
I thought this was the hardest book I had ever read. Incredibly college level, it takes 200 pages to make an interesting, but simple, point. The point is that we only imagine the communities we live in, and yet we stake everything on them. We call ourselves Americans, but our borders are just ideas we have come up with. We call ourselves Kansans and think that means we have something in common with other Kansans, but it might not. That, and I may have less in common (right now) with someone who lives in western Kansas than I do with someone who lives in Kansas City, MO. The irony of this book was that we were asked to read it over the fourth of July weekend. Yay for patriotism.
The Autobiography of Henry Adams
Being the grandson of two US presidents made this joker think he could write. Wrong. This was a hard and long book to get through. And it just made no sense to me. I literally was throwing it across Hale library in frustration. I know he was obsessed with the dynamo, an early engine that he felt symbolized society. I also know he used the word bourgeoise a lot.
Dr. Strangelove
Not a book, but a movie we did watch in class. This movie is pretty funny - but it's dark satyre. A much better way to waste time than reading some of these books. It tells the dark story of what could have happened if something had gone wrong during the cold war. We can literally thank God that something did not. I watched it again this fall, and some of the comedy was lost when I wasn't in a mass audience laughing, but if you are a fan of satyre, this is a must see.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
My Catholic Movies
As mentioned in an earlier post, a friend sent me five Catholic movies once. These movies were so diverse and so good, I just had to share them with the world. I am going to write about them from most non-Catholic friendly to most Catholic. All of these movies are great, clean entertainment. Also, I discovered a publishing company, I believe it is Ignatius Press. It makes movies about Catholic Saints. They are originally in Italian, but they are kind of a BBC quality. Very good and informative, and very challenging. My philosophy is that the lives of older saints, pre-Reformation, are easier to accept because that's just what Christianity was back then. But these movies would be like watching a movie on Mothere Theresa or Pope John Paul II.
Now, for the five movies I have:
The Scarlet and the Black
Christopher Plummer, the father from the Sound of Music, plays the bad guy in this movie - a Nazi soldier charged with overseeing the occupation of Rome in World War II. His opponent is a mild mannered Monseignor, who wears the beautiful round glasses typical of the era, flirts with wealthy women, and likes to play golf. A humble man, his entire mission in life is to do what's right. He goes head to head not only with Christopher Plummer, but with Pope Pius XII (I think that's the right number) who is concerned about keeping neutral. This is an interesting movie to watch for anyone who has heard about the controversy of the Vatican neutrality in World War II. The plot is good. Monseigneur wishes to help refugees and escaped prisoners of war, most of whom are English or American. Over the course of the Nazi occupation, he helps thousands hide in Rome, creating an intricate network to hide the escapees and feed them. Friends are lost along the way. When the Nazis retaliate by forcing the Monseigneur into the Vatican, never to leave, he continues to work hard - creating elaborate disguises to get out and help. This is a great movie for just some entertainment and popcorn, but the follow up boxes at the end of the movie tell a pretty powerful story in themselves.
The Bells of St. Mary's
This is a black and white Bing Crosby and Ingrid Bergman film. It has a sister film I have not seen, but it tells the story of Bing Crosby, an Irish priest, who comes to oversee a convent. Ingrid Bergman plays the part of a fiesty nun who has her own way of doing things. The two butt heads on some issues but become friends. Unfortunately, the nun gets tuberculosis and is sent away to Arizona for some recovery. (Thinking of a convent in Arizona sent me on a quest to visit convents and monastaries across the country - of which I have visited a total of none so far!) This was the movie where my roommate was screaming at the priest, yelling at me for making her watch a horrible movie, and generally being in a huff because the suspense (will he do the right thing or not?) just kills you!
Francis of Assisi
I spoke of this movie in my list of favorite happy movies, and I don't know what more I can say. This is a biography of St. Francis. He was a man on the town who had a conversion experience while at war. When he came back, he rejected the wealth of his father and began a life of serving others. His dear friend, Clare, who was also wealthy nobility, ran away from home and formed the Poor Clares, the female version of the Franciscans. Of course, the "dear friend" part is actually just romantic legend. While it's nice to see these two, beautiful platonic friends who work side by side, Clare was actually born much later than Francis. While she modeled her Poor Clares off his style of absolute poverty, they probably met in passing just once or twice.
The Song of Bernadette
This movie was nominated for a few Oscars back in the black and white days when it came out. I believe the actress was nominated for one. This is a cute story - kind of slow - but also interesting. It tries to stay historically true to one of the great mysteries of the 19th century. Last year I blogged about the story of Fatima and how I had never heard of it growing up, but it was huge in the Catholic world. Well, you always hear Fatima paired with Lourdes. These are the two huge modern day miracles that everyone talks about. Lourdes is a town in France where Bernadette, a young poor girl who was also simple and asthmatic, encountered a vision of the Virgin Mary. Mary asked her to return to the grotto, which was essentially the town dump, 14 days in a row to pray the rosary. Bernadette's faith and simple statements about the woman she had seen (always just described as "the lady") drew the attention of city officials, and even became nationally renowned. When asked for a miracle to prove the visions, a fountain sprung up out of the ground. This fountain has healed hundreds since the time it was formed, but the Catholic church will only recognize some 30 or so, because it takes such care to substantiate any claimed miracles. This is a cute movie that tells a story. You don't have to believe it, but it is interesting. As I said, it's also a little slow, but that's kind of the style of movies from back then.
Marcelino
Well, this is cute but weird. A Spanish film, it was dubbed over for our viewing pleasure. It is also incredibly old. I would only really recommend this if you like foreign and old films. The story is of a little boy adopted by monks. When he grows up to be an onery five year old, he goes into the attic, where there is a crucifix. However, the Jesus on this crucifix is alive! (Scary!) So the boy starts to take him bread and wine (and so in Spanish, it is the story of "Marcelino pan y vino - see, a rhyme). Finally, he is given the option to see his mother again, and is taken to heaven with Jesus. The monks see this happen and declare him a saint. As far as we can tell, there is not a real St. Marcelino - the rhyme itself makes the story seem more made up than anything else. It's just a cute little story someone made up. I didn't mind watching it the one time, but I'm not really ready to repeat it yet.
Now, for the five movies I have:
The Scarlet and the Black
Christopher Plummer, the father from the Sound of Music, plays the bad guy in this movie - a Nazi soldier charged with overseeing the occupation of Rome in World War II. His opponent is a mild mannered Monseignor, who wears the beautiful round glasses typical of the era, flirts with wealthy women, and likes to play golf. A humble man, his entire mission in life is to do what's right. He goes head to head not only with Christopher Plummer, but with Pope Pius XII (I think that's the right number) who is concerned about keeping neutral. This is an interesting movie to watch for anyone who has heard about the controversy of the Vatican neutrality in World War II. The plot is good. Monseigneur wishes to help refugees and escaped prisoners of war, most of whom are English or American. Over the course of the Nazi occupation, he helps thousands hide in Rome, creating an intricate network to hide the escapees and feed them. Friends are lost along the way. When the Nazis retaliate by forcing the Monseigneur into the Vatican, never to leave, he continues to work hard - creating elaborate disguises to get out and help. This is a great movie for just some entertainment and popcorn, but the follow up boxes at the end of the movie tell a pretty powerful story in themselves.
The Bells of St. Mary's
This is a black and white Bing Crosby and Ingrid Bergman film. It has a sister film I have not seen, but it tells the story of Bing Crosby, an Irish priest, who comes to oversee a convent. Ingrid Bergman plays the part of a fiesty nun who has her own way of doing things. The two butt heads on some issues but become friends. Unfortunately, the nun gets tuberculosis and is sent away to Arizona for some recovery. (Thinking of a convent in Arizona sent me on a quest to visit convents and monastaries across the country - of which I have visited a total of none so far!) This was the movie where my roommate was screaming at the priest, yelling at me for making her watch a horrible movie, and generally being in a huff because the suspense (will he do the right thing or not?) just kills you!
Francis of Assisi
I spoke of this movie in my list of favorite happy movies, and I don't know what more I can say. This is a biography of St. Francis. He was a man on the town who had a conversion experience while at war. When he came back, he rejected the wealth of his father and began a life of serving others. His dear friend, Clare, who was also wealthy nobility, ran away from home and formed the Poor Clares, the female version of the Franciscans. Of course, the "dear friend" part is actually just romantic legend. While it's nice to see these two, beautiful platonic friends who work side by side, Clare was actually born much later than Francis. While she modeled her Poor Clares off his style of absolute poverty, they probably met in passing just once or twice.
The Song of Bernadette
This movie was nominated for a few Oscars back in the black and white days when it came out. I believe the actress was nominated for one. This is a cute story - kind of slow - but also interesting. It tries to stay historically true to one of the great mysteries of the 19th century. Last year I blogged about the story of Fatima and how I had never heard of it growing up, but it was huge in the Catholic world. Well, you always hear Fatima paired with Lourdes. These are the two huge modern day miracles that everyone talks about. Lourdes is a town in France where Bernadette, a young poor girl who was also simple and asthmatic, encountered a vision of the Virgin Mary. Mary asked her to return to the grotto, which was essentially the town dump, 14 days in a row to pray the rosary. Bernadette's faith and simple statements about the woman she had seen (always just described as "the lady") drew the attention of city officials, and even became nationally renowned. When asked for a miracle to prove the visions, a fountain sprung up out of the ground. This fountain has healed hundreds since the time it was formed, but the Catholic church will only recognize some 30 or so, because it takes such care to substantiate any claimed miracles. This is a cute movie that tells a story. You don't have to believe it, but it is interesting. As I said, it's also a little slow, but that's kind of the style of movies from back then.
Marcelino
Well, this is cute but weird. A Spanish film, it was dubbed over for our viewing pleasure. It is also incredibly old. I would only really recommend this if you like foreign and old films. The story is of a little boy adopted by monks. When he grows up to be an onery five year old, he goes into the attic, where there is a crucifix. However, the Jesus on this crucifix is alive! (Scary!) So the boy starts to take him bread and wine (and so in Spanish, it is the story of "Marcelino pan y vino - see, a rhyme). Finally, he is given the option to see his mother again, and is taken to heaven with Jesus. The monks see this happen and declare him a saint. As far as we can tell, there is not a real St. Marcelino - the rhyme itself makes the story seem more made up than anything else. It's just a cute little story someone made up. I didn't mind watching it the one time, but I'm not really ready to repeat it yet.
Cost Cutting in Today's Recession
I'm not really a fan of the media. Any of it, although I certainly consume a lot. Even "non biased" (or biased the way I want them to be) news outlets can be ridiculous sometimes. Local news is worse, with the craziest things being touted as stories. Yesterday I read a story that was both interesting and wrong. I mean, it took good facts, but went a completely different direction with them than I would have. The story was about what cities and states are doing to cut costs. They mentioned (in reverse order) cutting off public services like trash pickup and street lights, ending public transportation, and shortening school years.
One city mentioned in this story had cut trash service to public parks. At first, I thought this was a drastic measure that would have little financial impact. I still don't think it will make that much of a difference if the trashman hits one more stop. But if trashcans were removed from parks (as opposed to being left in parks to indefinately fill up), then patrons would find somewhere else to put their trash, or take it home with them. Most of us do not litter - we've been brainwashed enough that the idea is laughable.
Another city turned off 1/3 of its streetlights. Citizens were concerned about a rise in crime, even though there is little statistical evidence of a correlation. Now, this cost cutting measure seems reasonable enough to me on the outset, but it appears the city was not methodical in turning the lights off. Some areas were left dark. Now, if someone turned off every third light on a given street, I don't think it would have that much of an impact (especially on streets where the lights are on both sides). But it appears (and it doesn't seem too far fetched) that city council, after approving the measure, probably said, "Not in my neighborhood!" and then turned off the lights based on their own passions, rather than reasonable application.
The City of Atlanta shut off all its public transportation. But, for the sake of my point of view, I will call it mass transportation. The article profiled a man with no car and the difficulties he now faces. Now, I think if I lived in a big city, I would take advantage of the mass transit. (I wish I could take more advantage of it now, but even though we have bus service to my work, it is very limited). And if I felt that everything I needed was within this transit system, I would probably not hold on to a car. Of all the "boo hoo" stories in this article, this is the one I most side with the citizens on. It's kind of drastic to ask someone to go out and buy a $10,000 car when they had been spending less than $10 a day on transit.
On the other hand, citizens need to understand how much this service cost. That, and it is a service that many (perhaps the majority of people in today's car driven society) don't use. The article said the cost was $8 million a year - I wonder if that included any unfunded pensions. That seems to be a big problem with most government budgets. I think the city could have looked at many alternatives. They could have increased fares to the point that the project was paying for itself. Riders would either buy cars if there were savings to be had or pay the extra, if the savings were in the public transportation. The city could have also looked into being bought out by a private company. I know people cry out in terror at the idea of a corporate run transit system. But you have to admit, a company would probably run the system better. It would be on time more often. The workers would be friendlier. The workers would be paid less. And savings would be passed on to the consumer. The city's proposed solution - an increased sales tax - places an undue burden on the half of the city that does not use the public transportation. A service like this should be able to pay for itself or it is not necessary. Patrons should be willing to pay to use it, or it is not necessary. But cutting it off all of the sudden one day seems a little dramatic.
Finally, in Hawaii, the state had cut an extra 17 days from the school year by having Friday furloughs. Now, I would think that the point of expressing this in an article would be to discuss why education is such a big expense and what can be done to cut costs. It may have discussed whether or not shortening the school year would adversely impact the education of children - children who already lag behind other devleoped countries. It may have discussed the theory of vouchers, or if the general public should be expected to shoulder the education of our children, and so on. Instead it focused on how hard it was for parents to find childcare on the extra day off.
Okay, so finding childcare can be an issue. But how is finding childcare for 17 extra Fridays different than finding childcare for the summer? And what about all the parents and families that already have childcare covered? I speak of families with a stay at home parent, a grandparent or aunt or uncle who can watch the kids, where at least one parent is a teacher, and so on. Certainly creative parents can find a way to take care of their kids for 17 Fridays - perhaps the schools can help parents create pools of 5 or so kids, whose parents rotate watching the kids on the day off. (But that's part of the problem these days - people don't know their neighbors, and both parents usually work either because they want to or they have to - and Hawaii is one of the poorest states in the nation, so imagine homes with two working parents are even more necessary).
But the big problem with making childcare the point of the article is that education was never meant to be government-paid childcare. If it was, then why does it only start when kids are five years old? And why does it not run 7:30 - 5:30 every day all year round? Education is education. Work is work. People have been juggling the two ever since moms went back to work. Our focus should be on getting our children the best education possible, so that when they have kids childcare is hardly a problem at all. We should be concerned about our kids learning, not whether or not their parents had to eat a vacation day to stay home with them.
I was so disappointed with this article. It could have gone in so many different directions, but instead decided to take the same old, "These poor people are losing their favorite public services!" direction, rather than evaluate other possibilities. It could have looked into how the cities who turned lights off allocated the dark areas. It could have questioned what other alternatives Atlanta looked into before shutting down the trains. It could have asked if our kids are getting a proper education?
(I went back to find the article, which I believe appeared on msn.com on Saturday, but it has been replaced - searches do not yield much - although a search on related words brought up plenty of articles, which probably have the same boring theme. This was not the first article I had read on education that took the approach of, "What are the parents going to do for childcare?")
One city mentioned in this story had cut trash service to public parks. At first, I thought this was a drastic measure that would have little financial impact. I still don't think it will make that much of a difference if the trashman hits one more stop. But if trashcans were removed from parks (as opposed to being left in parks to indefinately fill up), then patrons would find somewhere else to put their trash, or take it home with them. Most of us do not litter - we've been brainwashed enough that the idea is laughable.
Another city turned off 1/3 of its streetlights. Citizens were concerned about a rise in crime, even though there is little statistical evidence of a correlation. Now, this cost cutting measure seems reasonable enough to me on the outset, but it appears the city was not methodical in turning the lights off. Some areas were left dark. Now, if someone turned off every third light on a given street, I don't think it would have that much of an impact (especially on streets where the lights are on both sides). But it appears (and it doesn't seem too far fetched) that city council, after approving the measure, probably said, "Not in my neighborhood!" and then turned off the lights based on their own passions, rather than reasonable application.
The City of Atlanta shut off all its public transportation. But, for the sake of my point of view, I will call it mass transportation. The article profiled a man with no car and the difficulties he now faces. Now, I think if I lived in a big city, I would take advantage of the mass transit. (I wish I could take more advantage of it now, but even though we have bus service to my work, it is very limited). And if I felt that everything I needed was within this transit system, I would probably not hold on to a car. Of all the "boo hoo" stories in this article, this is the one I most side with the citizens on. It's kind of drastic to ask someone to go out and buy a $10,000 car when they had been spending less than $10 a day on transit.
On the other hand, citizens need to understand how much this service cost. That, and it is a service that many (perhaps the majority of people in today's car driven society) don't use. The article said the cost was $8 million a year - I wonder if that included any unfunded pensions. That seems to be a big problem with most government budgets. I think the city could have looked at many alternatives. They could have increased fares to the point that the project was paying for itself. Riders would either buy cars if there were savings to be had or pay the extra, if the savings were in the public transportation. The city could have also looked into being bought out by a private company. I know people cry out in terror at the idea of a corporate run transit system. But you have to admit, a company would probably run the system better. It would be on time more often. The workers would be friendlier. The workers would be paid less. And savings would be passed on to the consumer. The city's proposed solution - an increased sales tax - places an undue burden on the half of the city that does not use the public transportation. A service like this should be able to pay for itself or it is not necessary. Patrons should be willing to pay to use it, or it is not necessary. But cutting it off all of the sudden one day seems a little dramatic.
Finally, in Hawaii, the state had cut an extra 17 days from the school year by having Friday furloughs. Now, I would think that the point of expressing this in an article would be to discuss why education is such a big expense and what can be done to cut costs. It may have discussed whether or not shortening the school year would adversely impact the education of children - children who already lag behind other devleoped countries. It may have discussed the theory of vouchers, or if the general public should be expected to shoulder the education of our children, and so on. Instead it focused on how hard it was for parents to find childcare on the extra day off.
Okay, so finding childcare can be an issue. But how is finding childcare for 17 extra Fridays different than finding childcare for the summer? And what about all the parents and families that already have childcare covered? I speak of families with a stay at home parent, a grandparent or aunt or uncle who can watch the kids, where at least one parent is a teacher, and so on. Certainly creative parents can find a way to take care of their kids for 17 Fridays - perhaps the schools can help parents create pools of 5 or so kids, whose parents rotate watching the kids on the day off. (But that's part of the problem these days - people don't know their neighbors, and both parents usually work either because they want to or they have to - and Hawaii is one of the poorest states in the nation, so imagine homes with two working parents are even more necessary).
But the big problem with making childcare the point of the article is that education was never meant to be government-paid childcare. If it was, then why does it only start when kids are five years old? And why does it not run 7:30 - 5:30 every day all year round? Education is education. Work is work. People have been juggling the two ever since moms went back to work. Our focus should be on getting our children the best education possible, so that when they have kids childcare is hardly a problem at all. We should be concerned about our kids learning, not whether or not their parents had to eat a vacation day to stay home with them.
I was so disappointed with this article. It could have gone in so many different directions, but instead decided to take the same old, "These poor people are losing their favorite public services!" direction, rather than evaluate other possibilities. It could have looked into how the cities who turned lights off allocated the dark areas. It could have questioned what other alternatives Atlanta looked into before shutting down the trains. It could have asked if our kids are getting a proper education?
(I went back to find the article, which I believe appeared on msn.com on Saturday, but it has been replaced - searches do not yield much - although a search on related words brought up plenty of articles, which probably have the same boring theme. This was not the first article I had read on education that took the approach of, "What are the parents going to do for childcare?")
Friday, August 6, 2010
Maggie
On a Friday night in late March, I browsed Petfinder looking for a puppy to put in the little cage I had set up by the front door. I generally performed a search on females with two breeds, Beagle and Shiba Inu. (I think the Shiba is one of the most beautiful and less well known dogs out there! But after Golden Retrievers, Beagles - with their adorable faces and awesome noses - were at the top of my dog list). There she was, a beagle / dachsund mix labeled "Daphne" by her current owner. About 11 weeks. I could meet her at PetSmart the next day if I filled out an application. (Apparently as hard to adopt a pet as to adopt a person - you practically need references!)
When I got to PetSmart I wasn't planning to adopt right away. I just wanted to see if she was as cute in real life as in the picture. She wasn't. She was more dachsund than beagle - longer than she was tall. And she was so wriggly in my arms. This puppy definately wasn't for me! But another puppy caught my eye - Miss Charley. They pulled her out, and she sat patiently in my arms as I arranged to take her home with me. Seriously, you just HAVE to leave with a puppy! All my dog supplies were still at home, so we had a precarious car ride trying to keep her still. Then another precarious car ride to another Petsmart to get more supplies.
Well, Miss Charley changed names a few times - from Pepsi to Maggie, which stuck. However, we could have also called her Wiggley or Princess (because she is spoiled), and I have always actually kind of liked Miss Charley (or just Charley).
We took Maggie through puppy classes, where she was a solid B student - thanks to my roommate's dedication at training her. Honestly, we were competing for best behaved against two dogs who were months older than her! (Puppy class also contained for us a St. Bernard puppy - that thing was huge!) Now fairly well trained and house trained, we are awaiting late August to begin another round. I am looking into moving her into agility or tracking.
I take Maggie tracking once a week or so. It consists of me crushing up a hot dog and and walking thorugh the grass, dropping bits of hot dog every now and then to keep her motivated. She's really quite good. We did a teaser agility lesson at a dog show this spring, and she was a natural at that, too. She is good at jumping, crawling, and running. Areas for improvement include staying off the couch and not chewing on our fingers all the time.
I hear that dogs learn their personalities from their masters. My sister's dog is pretty jumpy. On the fourth of July, Maggie barely reacted to the fireworks, even before we started our sensitization training (give her a treat when a firework goes off). But my sister is pretty jumpy, and I am pretty calm, as is Kristen. So we have a pretty calm dog.
(Here's the thing on my sister's dog, Ember, an Australian Shepherd, Poodle mix (Aussiedoodle). She has a psychosis! This dog will not eat, drink, or sleep if there is a ball to be thrown. She will literally play herself to exhaustion. I have seen her take a ball to Maggie and wait patiently for it to be thrown. Ember is way too skinny, but you can only tell when her fur is shaved for the summer, because she won't eat when she can play! This kind of obsession in a human would get someone committed).
Maggie has a few quirks of her own. The funniest is that whenever she has a bone (or something similar) in her mouth, she wanders around the house crying. I mean she is worked up about it! It's really sad to see her so sad. We believe that it is because she is a digging species and wants to bury it but cannot find a way to do so inside the house.
Another quirk I have to add - she likes to "talk" to the doggie in the window. In this case, it is her reflection in our porch window. She usually stares at it, wondering (we assume) why that doggie had to live on the porch when she gets to live in here. She also may wonder why she can't smell it. Tonight she did the craziest thing, though. Both Kristen and I are pretty sure we saw her offer her fish toy to the dog in the window. How sweet - they share!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
My Beef About Foreign Languages
I love language. I love the one I speak. I love the one I try to speak. I love to learn where the roots of words come from and their history. Perhaps it is because I am a girl and like to talk, but I really do love to study languages. (Not to be a linguist - I would be terrible at learning many more languages, although I would like to).
My first thought on the problem with language came as I listened to the local evening news. The women were giving a report on some Mexican festival in the area, such as Cinco de Mayo. And suddenly in the midst of a perfectly American sentence, fluid, and perhaps over-pronounced, Spanish came flying from the TV. Now what was that all about? I pick on Spanish because I speak it, a little, myself. But I really get kind of tired of newscasters going out of their way to pronounce words in their native equivalent. I remember after September 11th, Kabul suddenly started being pronounced "Cobble," and Seoul "Soul." (By the way, when did Osama bin Laden become Usama? It seems he suspiciously changed his name a little over a year ago...)
I understand what is going on - an attempt to be respectful of a language and politically correct. But at the same time, throwing a perfectly pronounced foreign word into an English phrase sounds, well, foreign. Much better to Americanize it as best you can. For instance, when I was in Spain, I loved to hear the telecasters say, "George Boooosh." (And they could have said Jorge Arbusto, too!). But if they were to suddenly twang his name all out like we Americans do, it would have ruined the phrase. Words flow melodically from our lips, and I think it is much better to keep the flow any day than to stumble over pronounciations.
(By the way, I wonder if the new political correctness arose with the development of the internet, as native speakers started writing nasty letters to stations telling them exactly how to pronounce certain words).
And that leads me to my second beef about language - who translated Asian words into Roman letters? Honestly, I worked with a girl from China once named Fang. Pronounged Fong. Now, if she had been from Spain or France, I would have said, "Ah, well that is an interesting trait of French pronounciation." But she was from China, which means her name was actually spelled as a bunch of symbols. Some wise guy a long time ago took those symbols and tied them to English phoenetics. And he did a terrible job! It would be just as easy for her to spell her name Fong of Fahng or something, and people would mispronounce it less! And what about all the Nyguens? (Did I spell that right?) I think that is pronounced "win." So why not spell it that way? Or at least Wyn. I have no problem with the Chinese language (or other Asian or Arabic languages). I am just shocked that the English speaker who translated them did such a bad job!
But speaking of the translator, I have one more beef about foreign languages. And it has to do with maps (and money, I suppose). The area we call Germany today used to be called Bohemia. And it consisted of many little states. But now it is Germany. Not so fast. In German I learned that the country is called Deutchland. (Spreichen se deutch?). In Spanish, the country is referred to as Aleman. Three words for the same country?
Now if newscasters have enough respect for a language to try to pronounce it impeccably, why do we not have enough respect for other countries to list their countries (as phoenetically possible) by the name they call it? I have in my mind a map of the world with countries like Deuchland, Espania, and Mehico (We would have to change our spelling of Mexico if we wanted to pronounce it as close as possible to Mexico). I have noticed this phenomenon all over the world - in Spain we visited Seviya (Seville). Italy is Italia. Is it really that hard to say these words? I know there is a trade off between correct spelling (as in Mexico) and correct pronounciation, but in some countries (Spain) we don't even try. I am sure there are many many more examples in Asian countries.
Of course, it goes both ways. I actually like what the United States is called in Spanish - Los Estados Unidos. A direct translation of the words. But most countries aren't called a word (like a noun) they are called a proper name. (Many countries also have thsi United States or other descriptor word before their proper name. We, however, are not allowed to use America because that is seen as the name for the whole continent. Still, when it is the United States of Mexico, I see not why we can't be called America because that is in our full name). Anyway, I am trying now to phoenetically spell "United States" in a way that a Spanish speaker could pronounce that sounds like it does in English, and it's hard...Junidad Stits (hoo-nee-dahd steets?). And, of course, it's nonsense in Spanish. It kind of reminds me of that word game we played in college. But still, an American overhearing this in a conversation might actually be clued in that someone is talking about his homeland!
Okay, so that's a pipe dream... :) But it's fun to play around with.
My other question is about money, and it really is a kind of question. Dollars, pounds, pesos, yen, euros. All are words for money. I know I'm a little off base because of pounds and dollars - both words for currency in English speaking countries. But I believe a difference in pounds is that they are not base 100. Still, a yen or a peso - that's like a dollar in Japan or Mexico! I know, I know - it's not like a dollar. That's why we have the exchange rate, and it's very complicated. At times, I think both yens and pesos are more equivalent to the penny or dime than dollar.
My problem is that we call them the Japanese Yen or the Mexican Peso. Why not call it the Japanese Dollar or the Mexican Dollar? And the Mexicans could call our dollar the American Peso. I mean, otherwise Dollar is a kind of proper noun instead of a noun that kind of means, "the local currency."
I am trying to think of an off-base example...how about a book? I mean, you would not start talking about a new "libro" just because it was a book you got from Spain, or that was written by a Spanish author, would you? No, you tranlsate the noun back to English. So why pull out all the yen you got in Japan and not call them Japanese dollars? (Because yen is easier to say!) :)
Okay, so those were my random thoughts on foreign languages. Ideas that will never ever take hold...they may not seem politically correct at first, but I am trying to be fair. If I do any foreign language a disservice, note that I am willing that they do the same disservice to English. :)
My first thought on the problem with language came as I listened to the local evening news. The women were giving a report on some Mexican festival in the area, such as Cinco de Mayo. And suddenly in the midst of a perfectly American sentence, fluid, and perhaps over-pronounced, Spanish came flying from the TV. Now what was that all about? I pick on Spanish because I speak it, a little, myself. But I really get kind of tired of newscasters going out of their way to pronounce words in their native equivalent. I remember after September 11th, Kabul suddenly started being pronounced "Cobble," and Seoul "Soul." (By the way, when did Osama bin Laden become Usama? It seems he suspiciously changed his name a little over a year ago...)
I understand what is going on - an attempt to be respectful of a language and politically correct. But at the same time, throwing a perfectly pronounced foreign word into an English phrase sounds, well, foreign. Much better to Americanize it as best you can. For instance, when I was in Spain, I loved to hear the telecasters say, "George Boooosh." (And they could have said Jorge Arbusto, too!). But if they were to suddenly twang his name all out like we Americans do, it would have ruined the phrase. Words flow melodically from our lips, and I think it is much better to keep the flow any day than to stumble over pronounciations.
(By the way, I wonder if the new political correctness arose with the development of the internet, as native speakers started writing nasty letters to stations telling them exactly how to pronounce certain words).
And that leads me to my second beef about language - who translated Asian words into Roman letters? Honestly, I worked with a girl from China once named Fang. Pronounged Fong. Now, if she had been from Spain or France, I would have said, "Ah, well that is an interesting trait of French pronounciation." But she was from China, which means her name was actually spelled as a bunch of symbols. Some wise guy a long time ago took those symbols and tied them to English phoenetics. And he did a terrible job! It would be just as easy for her to spell her name Fong of Fahng or something, and people would mispronounce it less! And what about all the Nyguens? (Did I spell that right?) I think that is pronounced "win." So why not spell it that way? Or at least Wyn. I have no problem with the Chinese language (or other Asian or Arabic languages). I am just shocked that the English speaker who translated them did such a bad job!
But speaking of the translator, I have one more beef about foreign languages. And it has to do with maps (and money, I suppose). The area we call Germany today used to be called Bohemia. And it consisted of many little states. But now it is Germany. Not so fast. In German I learned that the country is called Deutchland. (Spreichen se deutch?). In Spanish, the country is referred to as Aleman. Three words for the same country?
Now if newscasters have enough respect for a language to try to pronounce it impeccably, why do we not have enough respect for other countries to list their countries (as phoenetically possible) by the name they call it? I have in my mind a map of the world with countries like Deuchland, Espania, and Mehico (We would have to change our spelling of Mexico if we wanted to pronounce it as close as possible to Mexico). I have noticed this phenomenon all over the world - in Spain we visited Seviya (Seville). Italy is Italia. Is it really that hard to say these words? I know there is a trade off between correct spelling (as in Mexico) and correct pronounciation, but in some countries (Spain) we don't even try. I am sure there are many many more examples in Asian countries.
Of course, it goes both ways. I actually like what the United States is called in Spanish - Los Estados Unidos. A direct translation of the words. But most countries aren't called a word (like a noun) they are called a proper name. (Many countries also have thsi United States or other descriptor word before their proper name. We, however, are not allowed to use America because that is seen as the name for the whole continent. Still, when it is the United States of Mexico, I see not why we can't be called America because that is in our full name). Anyway, I am trying now to phoenetically spell "United States" in a way that a Spanish speaker could pronounce that sounds like it does in English, and it's hard...Junidad Stits (hoo-nee-dahd steets?). And, of course, it's nonsense in Spanish. It kind of reminds me of that word game we played in college. But still, an American overhearing this in a conversation might actually be clued in that someone is talking about his homeland!
Okay, so that's a pipe dream... :) But it's fun to play around with.
My other question is about money, and it really is a kind of question. Dollars, pounds, pesos, yen, euros. All are words for money. I know I'm a little off base because of pounds and dollars - both words for currency in English speaking countries. But I believe a difference in pounds is that they are not base 100. Still, a yen or a peso - that's like a dollar in Japan or Mexico! I know, I know - it's not like a dollar. That's why we have the exchange rate, and it's very complicated. At times, I think both yens and pesos are more equivalent to the penny or dime than dollar.
My problem is that we call them the Japanese Yen or the Mexican Peso. Why not call it the Japanese Dollar or the Mexican Dollar? And the Mexicans could call our dollar the American Peso. I mean, otherwise Dollar is a kind of proper noun instead of a noun that kind of means, "the local currency."
I am trying to think of an off-base example...how about a book? I mean, you would not start talking about a new "libro" just because it was a book you got from Spain, or that was written by a Spanish author, would you? No, you tranlsate the noun back to English. So why pull out all the yen you got in Japan and not call them Japanese dollars? (Because yen is easier to say!) :)
Okay, so those were my random thoughts on foreign languages. Ideas that will never ever take hold...they may not seem politically correct at first, but I am trying to be fair. If I do any foreign language a disservice, note that I am willing that they do the same disservice to English. :)
Thursday, July 29, 2010
C.S. Lewis
I can easily say that C.S. Lewis is, hands down, my favorite author. He captured my imagination as a youngster with his Narnia series and had me looking in closets for secret worlds well into my adult years. Then in college he wowed me again with his theological books, "Mere Christianity" and "The Screwtape Letters." On a dark December night in 2008, a priest opened his homily with, "I've been reading a science fiction trilogy by C.S. Lewis...." I knew immediately that a) I had found a kindred spirit in the priest and b) I had to read those books, too!
The second book in that space triolgy, "Perelandra" and "The Problem of Pain," another of C.S. Lewis' more theological books had a profound impact on me. For the first time I can ever remember from my reading career, I had to set the books down, sometimes mid-chapter, in order to allow what I had just read to sink in.
I discovered that C.S. Lewis had an amazing way of expressing himself, whether by storey telling or through logical argumentation, that was much stronger than anything I could ever say. Often in his works he would say something I had tried to express myself, but he said it in a way that I knew millions of people would understand. As of late, I have wondered if one reason he is so profound is simply because he was English - reading the writings of someone who speaks my native tongue will probably provide more value to me than reading something that was translated.
Theologically, I do not know him to have ever stated anything glaringly blasphemous. In fact, I often find him expressing opinions that I had thought only I felt, that I had never expressed to anyone. When I read his essays, I found them relevant to the world I live in, too, and strangely comforting. If he was battling these ideas in the 1950's that I am battling today, then it means that the deterioration of society has bene much slower than he feared.
Once I discovered how amazing he was, I decided to embark upon a journey to read all his books, many of which are collections of essays. While I still would not say that C.S. Lewis has ever written anything bad or boring, in reading through his essays I found a repetitiveness of topics that was a little disheartening, but nothing a few months' break from the author couldn't cure.
But it was in reading "Surprised by Joy," his autobiography, that I began to feel like I knew the man, and it was a little melancholy. Somewhere in the middle of the book I realized that we would not really have been friends. For one, I think I admire him too much to ever have been his friends - I know from personal experience that the more I like someone and want them to like me, the less I feel like they do. But I do think I would have fit well into his circle - perhaps as the girlfriend / wife of his very best friend. You see, I think we are too similar, but if we had a common denominator, someone who found both of our types of logic and thoughtfullness attractive, it would bring us into the same group. But I do think we would butt heads sometimes - either because I am too opinionated, or because I am not eloquent enough to really say what I mean. Of course, the worst part of reading the book was realizing how important literature was to the man. I have read quite a bit of literature and have even gone through a phase of seeking it out. But I have found that "literature" is much like the Oscar winning movie - someone finds it of value, but it is not entertaining in the least bit. One day I should like to go back through "Surprised by Joy" and Lewis' other works, and read through all of his literary references. I go almost mad trying to understand some of his examples. But that was his passion, he made it very clear, and I would never have been able to keep up with that.
Now I find myself about halfway or more through his collection. I am reading, "The Four Loves," which like all Lewis books is incredibly profound. I just realized, having read a section tonight, that it is almost like a discipline I should have. For, each night when I pick up the book, it speaks to me some relevant little tidbit, almost as if C.S. Lewis is speaking to me. "Now Sarah," I can almost read, "In your situation, this is what is going on..." and "The reason you are so upset right now is..." and "In order to move forward and get to a better place you are going to have to...but don't worry..." And so on! I should not be entirely surprised - the man was a Christian, and as such, his books would make for tremendous Bible studies.
How I wish everyone else were reading all his books. We would certainly all be much more educated and thoughtful. But I cannot express the sentiments he puts forth, however much I want to tell my roommate about whatever profound tidbit he most recently put my way. Still, I may have to start the whole exercise over again and make sure that someone in my small circle reads the books along with me...for even having my roommate read it after me does little good if it is a deep discussion I want.
As a final note on C.S. Lewis - I have given him praise as an author and theologian. After the authors of the Bible, I would say he is my favorite Christian writer. I make the disticntion, though, because I know that he was not an inspired biblical writer. In theological terms, he was just an average joe who was uncanny at putting things together. With that said, I have often found a similarity almost in voice between the writings of Paul and C.S. Lewis. Indeed, the narrator in my head usually is the same for both authors. I think this is because Lewis mimicks Paul in ways, and he goes into a depth that Paul goes into. Both are so very careful to try to make things clear. But Lewis has one advantage, for me, that Paul does not, simply that he writes originally in English (as mentioned above) and that I need no context to understand Lewis' writings. I know what World War II was. I don't know all the little nuances of 1st century Rome. Still, I want to make it clear that, between the two writers (or any Bible author for that matter), Lewis is inferior because he was not inspired. But as a person who can take what Paul wrote, what was inspired, and break it down into waht a normal person can understand, then C.S. Lewis is phenomenal and takes the cake!
The second book in that space triolgy, "Perelandra" and "The Problem of Pain," another of C.S. Lewis' more theological books had a profound impact on me. For the first time I can ever remember from my reading career, I had to set the books down, sometimes mid-chapter, in order to allow what I had just read to sink in.
I discovered that C.S. Lewis had an amazing way of expressing himself, whether by storey telling or through logical argumentation, that was much stronger than anything I could ever say. Often in his works he would say something I had tried to express myself, but he said it in a way that I knew millions of people would understand. As of late, I have wondered if one reason he is so profound is simply because he was English - reading the writings of someone who speaks my native tongue will probably provide more value to me than reading something that was translated.
Theologically, I do not know him to have ever stated anything glaringly blasphemous. In fact, I often find him expressing opinions that I had thought only I felt, that I had never expressed to anyone. When I read his essays, I found them relevant to the world I live in, too, and strangely comforting. If he was battling these ideas in the 1950's that I am battling today, then it means that the deterioration of society has bene much slower than he feared.
Once I discovered how amazing he was, I decided to embark upon a journey to read all his books, many of which are collections of essays. While I still would not say that C.S. Lewis has ever written anything bad or boring, in reading through his essays I found a repetitiveness of topics that was a little disheartening, but nothing a few months' break from the author couldn't cure.
But it was in reading "Surprised by Joy," his autobiography, that I began to feel like I knew the man, and it was a little melancholy. Somewhere in the middle of the book I realized that we would not really have been friends. For one, I think I admire him too much to ever have been his friends - I know from personal experience that the more I like someone and want them to like me, the less I feel like they do. But I do think I would have fit well into his circle - perhaps as the girlfriend / wife of his very best friend. You see, I think we are too similar, but if we had a common denominator, someone who found both of our types of logic and thoughtfullness attractive, it would bring us into the same group. But I do think we would butt heads sometimes - either because I am too opinionated, or because I am not eloquent enough to really say what I mean. Of course, the worst part of reading the book was realizing how important literature was to the man. I have read quite a bit of literature and have even gone through a phase of seeking it out. But I have found that "literature" is much like the Oscar winning movie - someone finds it of value, but it is not entertaining in the least bit. One day I should like to go back through "Surprised by Joy" and Lewis' other works, and read through all of his literary references. I go almost mad trying to understand some of his examples. But that was his passion, he made it very clear, and I would never have been able to keep up with that.
Now I find myself about halfway or more through his collection. I am reading, "The Four Loves," which like all Lewis books is incredibly profound. I just realized, having read a section tonight, that it is almost like a discipline I should have. For, each night when I pick up the book, it speaks to me some relevant little tidbit, almost as if C.S. Lewis is speaking to me. "Now Sarah," I can almost read, "In your situation, this is what is going on..." and "The reason you are so upset right now is..." and "In order to move forward and get to a better place you are going to have to...but don't worry..." And so on! I should not be entirely surprised - the man was a Christian, and as such, his books would make for tremendous Bible studies.
How I wish everyone else were reading all his books. We would certainly all be much more educated and thoughtful. But I cannot express the sentiments he puts forth, however much I want to tell my roommate about whatever profound tidbit he most recently put my way. Still, I may have to start the whole exercise over again and make sure that someone in my small circle reads the books along with me...for even having my roommate read it after me does little good if it is a deep discussion I want.
As a final note on C.S. Lewis - I have given him praise as an author and theologian. After the authors of the Bible, I would say he is my favorite Christian writer. I make the disticntion, though, because I know that he was not an inspired biblical writer. In theological terms, he was just an average joe who was uncanny at putting things together. With that said, I have often found a similarity almost in voice between the writings of Paul and C.S. Lewis. Indeed, the narrator in my head usually is the same for both authors. I think this is because Lewis mimicks Paul in ways, and he goes into a depth that Paul goes into. Both are so very careful to try to make things clear. But Lewis has one advantage, for me, that Paul does not, simply that he writes originally in English (as mentioned above) and that I need no context to understand Lewis' writings. I know what World War II was. I don't know all the little nuances of 1st century Rome. Still, I want to make it clear that, between the two writers (or any Bible author for that matter), Lewis is inferior because he was not inspired. But as a person who can take what Paul wrote, what was inspired, and break it down into waht a normal person can understand, then C.S. Lewis is phenomenal and takes the cake!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Purgatory
I think the church I was raised in had a unique view of heaven. Because we believed there would only be one "Last Judgment," we believed that souls do not go directly to Heaven or Hell upon death. Instead, depending on their goodness on earth, they went to a kind of holding cell - something bland and confining like a prison or something very much like heaven but not the real thing. As a teenager, if my Catholic friends brought up Purgatory, this is what I imagined. I imagined Purgatory and the prison holding area to be the same. I imagined it like an expanse of brown, dried grass, sitting under a brownish green sky...there was nothing to do, but no pain really.
My friend explained Purgatory to me as I took a walk one summer afternoon, well before I had ever started to consider Catholicism. "It's simply a place you go where you can draw closer to God without temptation." While this is not the whole story, I will pause to explain the effect that statement had on me. I was an instant believer. I have always felt a little anxiety over going to heaven, because there is no sin in heaven. Perhaps because I am a little bratty, or perhaps because of original sin, or both, I could not imagine me - Sarah, my soul - without the inclination to sin. What if all the other souls in heaven got on my nerves? The idea that I could go to Purgatory and learn not to sin before standing in front of God for eternity gave me a sense of relief.
Now, based on my friend's explanation, I pictured Purgatory as a valley of rolling hills. You couldn't call it anything close to heaven, nor to the best places on this earth, but it was not unpleasant. On the top of each hill was a tree - perhaps an apple tree in bloom or covered in apples - and beneath each tree a soul sat. Here we souls contemplate God without ever feeling hot, cold, hungry, fat, tired, thirsty, or jealous. And the longer we sat, the longer we learned to want God - even though our circumstance was not so bad. Eventually, our longing would be so great that we would be ready for heaven, and to heaven we would go.
The other thing my friend told me about Purgatory was that it was a safe place. "If I die and find myself in Purgatory I will be the happiest person ever, because I know I will get to heaven, it's just a matter of when." Perhaps because of misunderstanding and grace abuse, some Catholics have given a very different view of Purgatory. In their minds, they can behave however they want in this world, and then in Purgatory they will make up for it. We cannot judge where they go when they finally leave this world, but if they are living wholly unchristian lives, then they may go to the alternative to Purgatory and Heaven.
A few months later, my friend sent me a booklet on Purgatory, presumably because of my interest in it. I was shocked to read it! Purgatory was not a happy valley - it was a pit of fire! Pain - horrific pain - worse pain than anyone on earth has ever experienced - awaits us there. And we get to stay there until we are ready for heaven? What is going on? For one, the idea of painful fire is not so far different than my idea of learning to love God and learning not to be sinful. Doesn't fire purify? If we are scalded, won't that burn off the old, dirty self? Aren't we supposed to be baptized in fire? Although the pain of Purgatory now sounds dreadful, I imagine it could be like the good kind of pain. Pain that heals.
Because our sins have been forgiven, we no longer have to fear death. If we have been saved, then we will go to Purgatory. However, because we are sinful, we must also be cleansed of and punished for the sins we have committed. This is similar to a thief who steals a TV. If he is caught and the TV replaced, he still has to go to jail. If he repents of his crime and turns himself in, he still has to pay for the TV. Even if the TV owners forgive him, he still has to serve his time.
My friend explained Purgatory to me as I took a walk one summer afternoon, well before I had ever started to consider Catholicism. "It's simply a place you go where you can draw closer to God without temptation." While this is not the whole story, I will pause to explain the effect that statement had on me. I was an instant believer. I have always felt a little anxiety over going to heaven, because there is no sin in heaven. Perhaps because I am a little bratty, or perhaps because of original sin, or both, I could not imagine me - Sarah, my soul - without the inclination to sin. What if all the other souls in heaven got on my nerves? The idea that I could go to Purgatory and learn not to sin before standing in front of God for eternity gave me a sense of relief.
Now, based on my friend's explanation, I pictured Purgatory as a valley of rolling hills. You couldn't call it anything close to heaven, nor to the best places on this earth, but it was not unpleasant. On the top of each hill was a tree - perhaps an apple tree in bloom or covered in apples - and beneath each tree a soul sat. Here we souls contemplate God without ever feeling hot, cold, hungry, fat, tired, thirsty, or jealous. And the longer we sat, the longer we learned to want God - even though our circumstance was not so bad. Eventually, our longing would be so great that we would be ready for heaven, and to heaven we would go.
The other thing my friend told me about Purgatory was that it was a safe place. "If I die and find myself in Purgatory I will be the happiest person ever, because I know I will get to heaven, it's just a matter of when." Perhaps because of misunderstanding and grace abuse, some Catholics have given a very different view of Purgatory. In their minds, they can behave however they want in this world, and then in Purgatory they will make up for it. We cannot judge where they go when they finally leave this world, but if they are living wholly unchristian lives, then they may go to the alternative to Purgatory and Heaven.
A few months later, my friend sent me a booklet on Purgatory, presumably because of my interest in it. I was shocked to read it! Purgatory was not a happy valley - it was a pit of fire! Pain - horrific pain - worse pain than anyone on earth has ever experienced - awaits us there. And we get to stay there until we are ready for heaven? What is going on? For one, the idea of painful fire is not so far different than my idea of learning to love God and learning not to be sinful. Doesn't fire purify? If we are scalded, won't that burn off the old, dirty self? Aren't we supposed to be baptized in fire? Although the pain of Purgatory now sounds dreadful, I imagine it could be like the good kind of pain. Pain that heals.
Because our sins have been forgiven, we no longer have to fear death. If we have been saved, then we will go to Purgatory. However, because we are sinful, we must also be cleansed of and punished for the sins we have committed. This is similar to a thief who steals a TV. If he is caught and the TV replaced, he still has to go to jail. If he repents of his crime and turns himself in, he still has to pay for the TV. Even if the TV owners forgive him, he still has to serve his time.
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