If you are really interested in the story behind the “birthers” claim that Barack Obama is secret immigrant hell-bent on destroying America, Wikipedia’s page on the controversy is impressively full and well documented.

Jon Stewart of the Daily Show led off with this topic last night. He handled it all pretty much exactly how you would have expected him to. The five-minute clip below includes clips from the President’s press conference and the ensuing press conference from the Donald.

So, the real question in all of this is: What will the birthers do now?

It is very possible that those that would call themselves “birthers” may still not be convinced of the President’s place of birth. Well, at least they still support the President in his policies and decision making.

What’s that?

They aren’t Obama aficionados?

Well color me embarrassed. It’s shocking to think that there could be a correlation between disliking the President and believing this birthed hokum!

Are you sure about this?

A friend of mine recently shared a great article on why it is hard for people to change their mind in regards to deeply held convictions. At the very beginning, the author quotes the great psychologist Leon Festinger:

“A man with a conviction is a hard man to change. Tell him you disagree and he turns away. Show him facts or figures and he questions your sources. Appeal to logic and he fails to see your point.”

The rest of the article revolves around the science behind climate change, but touches on a lot of the reasons for why people still do not change their minds, even with what seems to be overwhelmingly convincing information to some. It is well worth reading.

Well, it turns out that our emotions have a whole heck of lot to do with how we perceive things. We aren’t just perceiving “facts”, we are perceiving our version of the facts, and they are colored with all sorts of aspects of our emotional history.

When a new piece of information is processed in our brains, we automatically, subconsciously compare that new information to what we already believe to be true and/or understand about the world. If the information doesn’t fit, our mind starts to find ways to make sense of why it doesn’t fit. This process is on the conscious level, and we call it rationalization.

Maybe it’s the source of the information. Maybe it’s the amount of change and restructuring that we would have to do to assimilate the information. Maybe it’s something else.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that many birthers might have a deep down resentment of this President. Shocking, I know.

The birth debate isn’t the cause of people resenting the President, it’s the result of that resentment.

I’m not sure what the birthers will do next. I’m pretty sure that they won’t be voting for Obama in 2012, even with plans to unearth Obama’s placenta.

I often get my words confused. I am prone to becoming drunk with the potential power that the right words can provide to the right prose. Communication is all about pictures, and the emotions that those pictures bring to us. If a word creates a certain picture in your mind, and it turns out that you got that word wrong in the first place, it can be quite difficult to amend that picture.

For me, that word is often times: aficionado.

The cause of this confusion is probably due to the contents of the magazine Cigar Aficionado. It’s pages were filled with words like veiny, nutty, full-bodied, and other descriptions of cigars that might as well been written in Icelandic. Because I could not be sure what all of these words referred to to, or even meant, I assumed that one needed to be an expert in order to enjoy such a magazine. With that, I concluded that the word aficionado surely referred to some sort of professional knowledge holder or wise sage (in terms of cigars in this case).

In actuality, aficionado is really just a synonym for fan. Seriously, look it up. No word from Facebook if they considered replacing “Become a fan” with “Become an aficianado” before settling on the “Like” button.

Being an aficionado of LOST

I adore LOST. I ridiculously love it. I’ve shared my love of LOST with so many people, I am practically an evangelist for it. I literally named my daughter Evangeline, not just because she was “good news”, but because I wanted a significant way to acknowledge the impact the show has had on my life (my wife was also smitten with the beauty of the name, but that’s a minor detail).

The pilot episode of the show was eyeball-widening intense; with big-budget, high-quality special effects, terrifying moments of near-death and actual death, convincing pathos in many of the characters, and probably most important of all: plenty of mystery. A giant man-chomping monster, a mysterious radio signal on a loop for 16 years, and a polar bear running through the forest. They were all WTF moments at their head-scratching finest.

But the biggest mystery of pilot, and the one question that was begged by the title itself, was whether or not these people would be found. Would they eventually get off the island?

All of these holes in the story created a huge gravitational pull for me to lean in, to continue watching, and to hope beyond hope that everything would turn out OK. But my hopes were not just fed by the new illumination of the continued narrative each week… my imagination ran wild with possibilities and theories of “the truth”. In those dark places, where certain details of the story had not yet been told, I could hardly stop myself from coming up with reasonable and not-so-reasonable solutions to the puzzle.

When the finale of the third season of the show turned out to be a flash forward, giving us a glimpse into the future, the found question of LOST… was finally answered. The gap in my mind was filled with “the truth”, but somehow I still wanted to know more. I was still leaning in, I was still watching, and I was still hoping that everything would turn out OK. I cared about the characters. I cared about the minutiae. I cared about all of it.

As the show was drawing to a close earlier this year, I felt myself dreading the new gap that was imminently creeping up in my own life: a world without LOST. Gaps and holes are fine, as long as there is a starting point, and a finishing point. Open-ended questions can be maddening and neurosis inducing. Although life before LOST was wonderful and fulfilling, the idea of never hearing that spooky title frame sound left me close to despondent. Beginning a gap that never ends is like a death.

When the show finally did come to a close several weeks ago, a number of people were disappointed. While everything did turn out OK for the main characters, some fans did not appreciate the final 15 minutes, which seemed to imply a sort of do-it-yourself spirituality, in which any and all religious or spiritual belief eventually leads to a self-created place of paradise. Other viewers were stunned by the fact that a large number of questions (holes and gaps) went unanswered. Many of these folks were disappointed to find out that a specific element of the story which was particularly meaningful to them, was ignored or poo-pooed away.

Personally, I was extremely satisfied with the finale. Although I had my own theories along the way, and I had my moments of jubilance when I happened to be “right” with one of my predictions, I was prepared to be happy no matter what. Somewhere along the way, I had given up the reigns to my enjoyment of the show. I consciously relinquished my role as an objective viewer, and became a homer for whatever the writers put in front of my face to enjoy. My love was blind, and I didn’t care where it let me. Whether the gaps were filled or not, my mind was set, and I was determined to enjoy all of it.

So, as future without LOST has now become a present without LOST, you may not be surprised that I don’t believe that it is really over. My mind gave the world of LOST considerable meaning to me, and that same mind cannot let it go. I don’t want to believe that it is over. The endless gap that started at the culmination of the series is unacceptable for me to suffer.

Since much of the value of LOST during it’s run was subjective and self-created (like the postmortem paradise of the finale), why can’t I manufacture my own hope for the narrative to continue?

So that’s what I’m going to do. When the DVD and Blu-ray come out with special features that fill in the gaps, know that I will be elated. When the new, interactive internet story begins, know that I will be giddily following along. And if none of this ever happens, and it truly is over, know that I still believe that it was all worth it.

I may not be an expert, but I am an aficionado.

Are you?

I’ll see you in another life, brotha.

He has been labeled as a pluralist by some, and a heretic by others.  But he still ardently believes in the beauty and truth contained in many, if not all, of the world’s expressions of faith (or doubt).  Samir finds it distasteful and arrogant (as do I) when a singular religion claims to have a stranglehold on truth.  Even when Christianity aims for this type of “light in a dark world” status, he mostly rejects it.

There are a lot of interfaith groups out there, but Samir gladly throws atheism into the mix.  In his book, he offers an interesting perspective on a common debate among atheist and religious thinkers:

“Does religion own virtue?

Are religious people more likely to be protectors of the earth’s resources, more likely to believe in nonviolent solutions to world problems, and more likely to care for the poor and oppressed?

The obvious answer to this question is no.  To which many religious people respond, ‘Yes, but this is just because the sense of right and wrong of atheists is feeding off of centuries of the development of morality and ethics nurtured by religion.  Once that storehouse of religion is used up, secular societies are going to fall vicim to their inherent vacuum of values.’”  (It’s Really All About God, pg. 190)

and

“While religious people relate their lives to something transcendent, which often means ‘elsewhere’ and ‘later’, atheists are in a position to assume full responsibility for ‘here’ and ‘now’.  They cannot avoid, cover up, or postpone solving personal and communal issues in Some Other Time and Some Other Place with Someone Else.  All that happens, happens in the present.  Every person and moment is precious, unrepeatable, unpostponable, and thus sacred.”  (It’s Really All About God, pg. 191)

It’s tricky to have discussions about religion, especially when beliefs about nearly everything vary as wildly as they do within my particular religious upbringing: Christianity.  There are Christians who believe in the justification of war, and those who are dedicated to radical peace.  Christians who consider America to be most “Christian” nation in history, to those who believe the exact opposite.  Musical instruments, style of dress, use of technology, sexual preference, authority of scripture, and countless other issues are constantly debated and disagreed upon within this one religion.

So, how does one decide what to believe and how to be classify themselves, religiously?

Depending on who is looking at me, or who I am being compared to, I am either fanatically conservative, or heartbreakingly liberal.  Am I whoever I want to be?  Or am I whomever you want me to be?  What about you?

When it comes down to it, you can either look at the beliefs that make up our lives as showcasing how different and separate we all are, or consider the beliefs that show how alike we all are.

I’ve been mostly absent from church services for the past couple of years.  While I would not classify myself as an atheist, it didn’t seem fair to call myself a Christian either.  While the term “post-Christian” is an appropriate description of much of western Europe, it seemed a rather arrogant distinction to put upon myself, no matter how accurate it seemed to describe my spiritual state.

But, with this discovery of Samir Selmanovic, a Christian with answers for some of my toughest questions and some questions for answers that I didn’t even know that I held to, I feel like there still may be room for religion in my life.

I’ll leave you with one final quote from Samir’s book, and one that has stuck with me the most.  It’s Samir giving a summary on what someone would possibly gain by following Jesus:

“Follow me, and you might be happy-or you might not.   Follow me, and you might be empowered-or you might not.  Follow me, and you might have more friends-or you might not.  Follow me, and you might have the answers-or you might not.  Follow me, and you might be better off-or you might not.  If you follow me, you may be worse off in every way you use to measure life.  Follow me nevertheless.  Because I have an offer that is worth giving up everything you have:  You will learn to love well.”

May it be said that we all “learn to love well”.

My son and I at a community service project last Fall.

This morning, while sitting at the kitchen table, the question that I had expected my son to eventually ask me, was finally asked. After taking the self-applied clip-on tie off of his undershirt, buttoning his top button, and correctly reseting the tie, he looked at me and said:

“Daddy, why don’t you go to church with us?”

Kim happened to be walking down the hall, but she heard the question and raised her eyebrows at me as if to say “He’s your son!” She realized that this was going to be a man to man conversation, and continued to the bathroom to prepare herself for the upcoming church service.

I looked into my son’s earnest eyes, and contemplated his even more earnest question. As many parents do, I weighed the merits of a short answer that would stop his questioning (but be less than truthful), against a more truthful answer than might take a series of answers and explanations about things that he might have trouble wrapping his mind around. Today, I chose to give him the more honest answer.

I told him that it was because of my beliefs. Although the church and I share some of the same beliefs about living a moral life, we differ on so much more. The main difference, as I told my son, was the church’s view of the other, the outsider, the adherent of another faith, and/or the unrepentant sinner. This church (like many others) believes that after death, certain people will end up in some sort of hell. For most of my life, I have believed the same. But in the past few years, for a variety of reasons, I no longer do.

Before explaining anything else to him, I let him know that despite his desire to be just like me in so many ways, his beliefs would have to be his own. Whether my words of explanation will have any more influence on him than my actions, only time will tell. But, I wanted to express to him how personal everyone’s beliefs are, and how they should have some measure of respect.

After describing hell as a place where people were sad and crying for ever and ever, and where God could not/would not ever see them or rescue them, my son replied that he did not want to ever go there. I told him that some people believe that the population of hell is made up of people who deserve to be there. I shared with him my belief in a God who would not create someone who would eventually end up in hell. In fact, I read a great quote in a book by Samir Selmanovic just yesterday:

“I have become convinced that a God who favors me over others is not worth worshipping.”

In the end, my son walked away with a couple of new thoughts about God and hell, and an apparently sufficient answer about why daddy wasn’t going to church.

Really, I just can’t wrap my head around the belief that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and at the same time that God is the creator of this mess that falls short of Him. If God is responsible for the situations in our life that lead us to make choices, then He is also somewhat responsible for those choices. If He is not responsible for those situations, then everything is just chance and chaos. God cannot judge our actions justly if we are all playing with different pieces on often vastly different game boards.

I’m sure that I could say more about this, but I’ll save it for another time.

Not believing in hell is just a stone’s throw away from not believing in “sin”.  In light of my Christian upbringing, this is a belief that challenges much of what is commonly understood about the purpose and nature of Jesus, the namesake of Christianity. If there is no hell, and there is no sin, then what was Jesus all about? If he was just a great moral teacher, and not God incarnate, then this changes everything. Depending on what criteria you use to classify a Christian, then you may not consider me one anymore. To be honest, I myself often wonder if I should claim that for myself anymore.

I feel like I’m a sort of religious no man’s land. Where I’m going to end up is unclear (pun intended). I just know where I don’t want to be:  In a place where God loves me (enough to give me life in heaven) more than he loves other people (so little that He lets them die in hell). If you’ve found some place where I could find myself more at home, please let me know.

I have a lot of goals.  One of them involves becoming a better facilitator.  Another involves becoming a better communicator.  Still another is about being a wise man.  A few months back, a local college preparatory school asked if I would be interested in substitute teaching.  I identified this opportunity as a process that would help me towards those first two goals, and even provide a little income on the side.  After meeting with the administration and learning a little about the school and its values, I agreed and began to substitute a few days per month, for various courses.

While I was there, a funny thing happened.  I LOVED it.  Now, I don’t mean that it was a pleasant surprise and a welcome change to my schedule.  I mean that I could feel something inside of me and around me as I walked through the doors into the hallway.  Now, it may be that they pump laughing gas through the air vents, but I think it is more likely that some vivid picture of life that I had in my own mind was being matched by something outside of me.  It was the realization of a goal that my subconscious mind had been teleologically fixed to, and I thoroughly enjoyed becoming aware of it.

Still, my goal remained to be a full-time Project Director and Facilitator with The Pacific Institute.  I was meeting new people, developing new projects, and collaborating with others for some exciting work in the coming months and years.  The goal was fixed, my affirmations were clear, and the plan was moving forward.

Then a door opened.

The head of the upper school called me to inquire if I would be available to fill in for a teacher for the rest of the school year.  Without even thinking, I politely declined, citing the amount of time I needed for my projects with The Pacific Institute.  Because my goal was clear, and I perceived this new information to be a threat to that goal, I shut the door.

But, as it sometimes does, opportunity knocked again.  This time, our conversation touched on the courses that would be on my docket.  Subjects like psychology, religion, history, and social studies.  She wasn’t asking for me to fill a hole as a warm body.  She was telling me that she had interviewed several interested applicants, and still believed that I was the best candidate for the position.  She was confident in the positive impact the position would have on me, and the students of the school.

So I did something that I should have done the first time around: I evaluated.

As I looked closely at the opportunity, I became acutely aware that I was not operating within a vacuum.  Taking responsibility for my choices and their consequences has been my modus operandi for the past seven months, but I often forget that almost every choice has consequences outside of me as well.  It’s another paradox, it seems.  I can’t focus just on my own choices and their consequences, and I can’t just be passive and let my life happen to me.  It’s a delicate balance, and I was leaning too much on the goal of being a successful Project Director.

But why did I want to become a successful Project Director?  Was it so that I could share my own experiences with others in a way that would help them to avoid the pain that I had experienced?  Was it to impact people in a meaningful way so that they would find something great within themselves because of something I did or said?  Was it to do my part as a citizen of the world to make it a better place?  When I took all of those things into consideration, the teaching position was offering me a process towards an even greater goal: not just to be a wise man, but to be a wise man with a legacy for my children.

In the end (or beginning, as it were), I gladly accepted the position and will begin on January 4, 2010.  Since I was a teenager, I have had the idea in my mind that I will have my act together (in some way) by the time that I reach 30.  If Jesus didn’t really get his game going until then, and Siddhārtha didn’t reach enlightenment before 30, why would I?  In February, I’ll reach that magical age, and while I’m not sure that I’m going to have my act together, this new chapter has me very excited about what life (and my students) will teach me as a teacher.

Since that day, Brad has persevered from the life-altering accident to become a man more focused than ever on having a positive impact on this world and a high quality of life.  He also happens to be a VJ for The Pacific Institute‘s “Discovering the Power in Me“.  Brad has an incredible sense of self-efficacy.  He continues to be an avid outdoorsman and has hiked the physically and mentally exhausting Pacific Trail.  He is producing a documentary of the journey he and nine friends took on the trail.  Check out the preview below.  If you would like to be a part of financially supporting the completion of his movie, you can contact Brad at poobala@hotmail.com.

Click here to view the embedded video.

His body may be seated, but his spirit is standing.

The day of Michael Jackson’s death, Mayer’s words were the celebrity quote that most accurately conveyed my own feelings at the time:

“Dazes in the studio.  A major strand of our cultural DNA has left us.  RIP MJ.  I think we’ll mourn his loss as well as the loss of ourselves as children listening to Thriller on the record player.”

Then, I saw his musical tribute at Michael Jackson’s funeral. It was a type of synthesis of his unbelievable guitar talent, and the very human connection that John felt with Michael’s music and life. It had such an impact on me, that I made it the theme song to this web site, as odd and as self-aggrandizing as that is. Strangely enough, I’m not sure if I have thought about John Mayer or heard any of his music since then.

It is somewhat poetic and appropriate then, that a recent video interview of John with CNN would catch my attention and paint a nice picture of what it means to be human.

The full transcript of the interview is even better and I gleefully recommend reading it.

Many of the articles on this site deal with the human side of two groups of people who often times aren’t considered as such: criminals and celebrities. I am convinced that both groups of people are judged far too harshly by many, due to the blindingly bright nature of one side of his/her personhood.

If you view John Mayer as a skirt chasing, limelight loving, lucky SOB;  you’re only half right, if that. The theme of the interview (and apparently, this new album) is that John is taking ownership of who he actually is, and not who he is trying to be or pretending to be. This is tremendously important for anybody who is looking to know oneself, even if for the sake of trying to change.

Although John’s comments on age are intentionally hilarious and exaggerated, they ring true to me now as I am on the cusp of my thirties. I’m taking inventory of where I have been, and I’m trying to examine the events that most helped to contribute to my current state. I now believe that just a few core beliefs help to guide nearly everything that I do, and in a way, life isn’t as complicated as I sometimes make it.

As Polonius said to Laertes in Hamlet: “This above all: to thine own self, be true.” Before John Mayer was a celebrity, he was… John Mayer. Writing songs about love and heartbreak were natural, well received, and most of all… real. It sounds as if he is trying to keep a hold of that which made his music magical, namely his unapologetic honesty. He may not be politically correct, but he doesn’t seem to be bitter or resentful of much outside of himself either.

I’m a fan of honest conversations and blunt confrontations, in a spirit of love. I want my life to be characterized by more of this. I want it to be one of those core values that everything else flows out of. Thanks for reminding me of that today, John.

The incident itself may be newsworthy due to the unprecedented number of casualties, but two big wrinkles have given this story pretty long legs to run on.  As the story continues to unfold, we now know a few details from the assailant.  First, he was a licensed Army psychiatrist, someone professionally trained to help soldiers readjust to life after a tour in Afghanistan or Iraq.  Second, according to eyewitness accounts, he shouted “Allahu akbar” just before opening fire.  As you may know, this is an Aramaic phrase loosely translated as “God is great”.  It’s become a calling card of sorts for Muslim terrorists who believe they are acting on God’s behalf.  Let’s start with the latter.

Every major American Islamic organization publicly condemned the attack as immoral and anti-Islam.  A few angry members of the community in Ft. Hood took it upon themselves to call in death threats to area mosques, as if that would change the past or help the future in some way.  I agree with the sentiment of Arsalan Iftikhar, who wrote a fine editorial on the double standard of Muslim ties to terrorism and hate crimes compared to those who commit similar acts from a Christian upbringing.

Is religion the cause of this act?  It’s a fair question to ask, and it seems to come up every time there is a notable incident of murder in the name of God, be it Allah or Elohim.  But with the histories of nearly all major religious traditions involving some sort of divinely sanctioned homicide, should we be surprised when modern day believers act in such a way?  If it was ok to commit genocide on the Philistines, the Nephites, the infidels, or some other group in the past, because of the greater good that God had planned, is it so difficult to comprehend the state of mind of today’s “holy warrior”?

One of my favorite quotes from Lou Tice, Chairman of The Pacific Institute, is:

We act not according to the truth, but the truth as we believe it to be.

If someone believes that God is speaking to them, and that God has a plan much larger than current circumstances, then ANY moral beliefs can be compromised to achieve obedience to that plan, including the value of human life.  Our internal beliefs about something’s legitimacy have much more to do with our corresponding actions than any sort of external “proof”.  Unfortunately for those closest to the Ft. Hood community, Major Hasan believed that he was doing God’s will at the time of his attack, despite “proof” of the evils of murder that many in society simply take for common sense.

This is a pretty volatile topic, so let’s see if anyone is interested in discussing it further, here.  Just leave a comment and let’s talk about it!

Easy tiger...

How you feel about Jon Gosselin is probably going to depend a lot on what you have personally experienced in your own life, or how you value stories of failure and redemption.  If you’ve led a morally upright life, and you tend to only value failure if it is soon followed by redemption, you may have little to no sympathy for Jon Gosselin and his bachelor-esque behaviors (while married) over the past several months.

This is especially difficult to swallow for those who revered him as a type of “super-dad” and loving husband who would sacrifice anything for his family.  Even if a divorce is a dance for two, he seems to have loaded up the jukebox with many more songs than Kate.  Their legal proceeding are becoming increasingly volatile and their relationship is strained to a microscopic level.  I’m sure that many may have the desire to remind Jon that he made this bed, and now it is time to sleep in it.

From doting father and submissive husband to jet-setting playboy with a cell phone filled with booty calls, Jon has shown clearly that he has a wild side.  But is that all that it is?  Is it just one side of his personality?  With his behavior over the last year seeming so different than what was known about him up until that time, the question on many people’s minds is:  ”Will the real Jon Gosselin please stand up?”

Lisa Respers France from CNN wrote a fantastic piece about Jon’s recent conversations and counseling with Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, who apparently is something of a celebrity spiritual advisor.  In the article, besides dispelling rumors that he was to be starting a new reality series with “Octomom” Nadya Suleman, Jon had some frank comments about his behavoir:

I am well aware that my behavior over the past few months has not always reflected my personal and religious values. I further accept that I have allowed myself to become somewhat severed from my own moral anchor and be carried away by the challenges of fame.

and:

It is my sincere desire to use the fame I have so unexpectedly acquired to highlight mature, responsible behavior as well as the joys of fatherhood and family.

and probably the most honest of them all:

I ask the public to please understand the challenges I face in living under constant public scrutiny, even as I am aware that I have at times courted that scrutiny.

Ok, so a level-headed Jon is issuing a mea culpa, with a promise to change the future in a positive way.  But does anyone care?  Over 60% of that CNN article’s readers polled believe that Kate should NOT forgive Jon.  There is a real belief in the minds of many people that some sort of penance must be undertaken before forgiveness should be entertained.  Perhaps those people are right.

But there are many that believe that blanket forgiveness is often undeserved, and punishment (or justice) is the best way to return to a balanced way of life.  In my own story, many people advised Kim to “make him (me) pay” and “make him (me) work for your (her) love” during the beginning of our time of healing.  Our healing blossomed into a reconciliation, but that is not and should not be the only expected result of healing.  Peace is paramount.

Jon at a more innocent time

Past behaviors, both negative and positive, must be synthesized to arrive a current state of someone’s character appraisal.  Jon is neither a knight in shining armor nor a wild, partying, lust-monster.  At least, not fully.  They are two sides of his personality, and it’s likely not a 50/split.  We all act differently in different stages of our lives, and sometimes the pendulum swings wildly.

Human nature is not just about who we wish to be, it’s about who we are, which is evidenced by what we do.

The biblical story of the prodigal son has be retold in many different forms over the centuries.  I even participated in a reimagining of the story with cues taken from The Princess Bride while I was in college.  In my opinion, it’s a story that highlights three parts of human nature:

1. Personally testing the rules put in place by others for one’s own good, only to find out through much pain that they are true.  (The prodigal son)
2. Having love override all negative behaviors to bring about a restoration of peace, despite a lack of justice.  (The father)
3. Being frustrated and angry over a lack of justice and wanting a situation of “fairness” to exist.  (The brother)

I’ve felt all of these feelings at different times in my life.  Is the Gosselin saga an appropriate narrative to apply the principles of this parable?

Gladwell illustrates the lessons from his story about Howard Moskowitz pretty darn well, so I won’t add much.

I too often find myself obsessed with universals and trying to discover the rules that govern the way that all of us behave.  The idea of variability and diversity is very intriguing.  In truth, there may only be a handful of universals amidst a sea of beautiful diversity and variables.  It seems to me that a large proportion of our conflicts and wars are due to leaders mistaking a variable truth for one that is universal, and then attempting to impose it on the masses.

Even attempting to give something as universal as “freedom” to another culture can fail based on the variable understandings and perspectives on freedom.

The older I get, the less “black and white” the world gets.  While I always knew that “There’s no wrong way to eat a Reese’s”, I didn’t extrapolate that principle to many other areas of my life.  There always seemed to be a right way to do this, and a wrong way to do that.  The more I understand about my own perception, the less faith I have in my ability to discern things that are ALWAYS right or ALWAYS wrong.

Since taste seems to be obviously chock full of variability, where does that principle end?  What is universal?