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By C. Jake Williams. January 29, 2009
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Some of you have heard that I've signed up to volunteer at a local hospice. My first day with patients is roughly two weeks away, and I have a critical decision to make before that day comes.
To lie or not to lie?
Mortalitya is always a tricky topic, and whether you believe you're going to heaven or not you have to admit that all old people have VIP passes to the show. All of 'em! Jews, Muslims, Christians - even those who worship their cats - after achieving a level of grace and accomplishing all they were capable of on this physical Earth, the time has come to escape to the spiritual kingdom.
But wait! Just before their departure, some young and arrogant punk comes into their living room, announcing there is no God and at least one-seventh of their life was wasted worshipping thin air. Hallelujah!
The dilemma I'm facing is whether to admit my own beliefs with the patients, leading to discussions with exponential potential to turn sour, or to lie to the patients, which is akin to lying to an innocent version of myself.
Melissa thinks I should pretend to be Mormon. Otherwise, she says, they may try to convert me, which could lead to awkwardness or resentment should I reject their offer of salvation. Melissa reminds me that volunteering is not about me, and I should do what is best for the patients.
Travis simply disagrees with what that better approach may be. He thinks I should play the atheist, their last little project. Let them convert me, he says. "Yes Mrs. Sanford, I did go to church this week for the first time in seven years. Thank you thank you thank you!"
Both approaches have advantages. Both allow me to avoid a standoff, a game of chicken, with individuals who lack the time to see if I'll blink first. Both allow me to share religion with those preparing to meet their God. But both also require deception and insincerity.
I don't think I can avoid religion while visiting a hospice patient, so the only thing I do know is that I need to decide on an approach before I knock on that first door.
What approach do you think I should take?
Switching gears, yesterday I thought about the alienb flick Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Good movie, crazy mashed potato scene, brilliant light-show communication idea. But what does that title actually mean?
The third kind? What are the first two, and how is the third different? Well if you ask me to figure it out - and you did - then sit back and absorb the answer.
Dr. Josef Allen Hynek, an astrophysicist and ufologist who died in April 1986, defined 'first-kind' encounters as a "close-at-hand experience without tangible physical evidence." If you have an encounter of this nature, tell only children, lest you wish to be called Crazy-(insert your name here) for the foreseeable future.
A close encounter of the second kind produces "a measurable physical effect on either animate or inanimate matter." For example, if you witness a landed spacecraft takeoff and it leaves marks in the Earth and a trail of gamma radiation, you may be viewed as simply confused and not the alternative, Insane.
A close encounter of the third kind, like in the movie-film, involves "the presence of animated creatures" in or near a UFO. Translated, this means freaking aliens!
I'll admit that I had no idea what the encounter classifications were before researching the topic. My first guess for the first and second encounters were 'Plants' and 'Animals'; I'm retarded.
Today's video closer is a tribute to one of my favorite dunkers of all time, Shawn Kemp. This year's NBA slam dunk contest takes place February 14, but I'd lay money on Shawn Kemp over any of the four contestants. Especially Rudy Fernandez. Enjoy.
It's about to Rain on Alton Lister.
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bI plucked all the hairs of my happy trail. I was under the impression this would keep it from growing back, but have since been informed I am mistaken.
cA colossal spill of Mountain Dew smeared footnote a beyond legibility.
You were there.