I Voted! Early!

My Dear Reader,

After my fifth-or-so attempt at registering to vote, I finally have the opportunity to do my civic duty. I say this to make it clear that I'm not a political slacker; the facts are that I have filled out registration forms three times without actually getting registered. I don't know what happened--maybe there was some kind of glitch, or maybe I'm just stupid at filling out registration forms. Either way, it took me the fourth time before it went through, but I changed states before I could vote. So I registered again. In Oregon. There seemed to be no problems the fifth time, as my voter registration card and my ballot arrived in the mail on schedule. That's right; I got my ballot in the mail. Automatically. It was just plain awesome.

You see, Gentle Reader, I have recently learned that Oregon has this very original approach to voting: 100% absentee ballots. Essentially, they send every registered voter a ballot in the mail, and each voter can fill it out and mail it back at his or her leisure. And as for all of those "what if"s that are piling up in your head: no worries. If you really want to vote at a polling place (or have to, as in if you happen to be homeless), you can do that. If you make a mistake on your ballot, you can just go and get another one. The only bone I have to pick with this system is that you have to put a stamp on your ballot when you mail it off, since you are essentially paying a fee to vote. I realize that the fee is only 42¢, but it's the principle of the matter. Of course, if you don't want to mail your ballot, you can just drop it off personally. So maybe I don't have that much of a case.

But here's the really cool thing about this voting system: you can fill it your ballot out as you go. Okay, so I obviously haven't voted the normal, polling place way, but I imagine that it's a little like taking a test: you study beforehand and dump all of your information right there in the booth. Instead, the 100% absentee ballot method turns the process into a kind of take-home, open-book test. It means that you can sit on your couch, at your desk, or wherever, and have your ballot by your side as you research the issues and decide which you want to pick. You can research the candidates for position A, make your decision, and vote for your choice. Then you can move to proposition C, research the pros and cons, and vote for your choice on proposition C.

Then you can take a break, do something else, and finish voting later. I think that this is a good idea because sometimes people only have the time to figure out how they stand on the high profile candidates and measures. And sometimes, this means that some people make their decisions on the low profile stuff, they just choose at random. I'm not making this up, as studies have shown that the candidates put on top tend to get more votes than their opponent(s).

Anyway, I'm just really excited to finally have a say, even though I'm just one person, and even though I'm a registered Republican in a very blue state.

And if you're still studying the issues, you may want to check this site out: BallotPedia.org. I only found the site an hour ago, but it seems to be balanced, informative, and cool enough. And no pressure, Howard, just remember everything depends on this.

Regards, best wishes, and the democratic process,

-Cecily Jane

P.S. Okay, so I didn't end up posting that story I promised. If I post it before November, can we still be friends?

Next Up: NaNoWriMo

My Dear Reader,

Things are going to change a little bit in November, since it is NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. It's essentially a group of writers who get together online and motivate each other to do an amazing feat: write a 50,000 word novel in only thirty days. The idea behind it is that everybody has a novel inside of them, but some need a little bit of help to get it out of their brains and onto paper. I know that this is true by experience, since half of the time I tell people about my almost-done novel, I find that they have a novel that they want to write, too.

I know that there are a lot of people out there who don't think of themselves as writers. I wonder if these same people would feel more capable if they thought of it as storytelling. All you really have to do is tell a really, really long story. I think that the sweetest part of NaNoWriMo is that it doesn't matter if your story is awful; it's just about finishing. It's a race, and it's hard to get to the finish, but your only competition is yourself. And even if at the end you've written the worst novel in existence, you still get that sense of accomplishment. It's that special feeling you get when you are sitting quietly by yourself and think, "I'm a novelist."

I "won" NaNoWriMo last year, and I intend to do the same this year. I've got a mystery/thriller-ish novel lined up, with some characters that I've been working on for years. Here's a cover mock-up that I put up on my profile page, under the pseudonym of TheOtherOne:


The biggest change that I foresee in the next month is that I will be posting a count of how many words I've written so far. The next change is that I will post an excerpt of my novel every Friday, which means that yes, I will resume posting every Friday.*

I would really hope that you would take this challenge on with me, Gentle Reader. I'm always here if you need some encouragement. Just go to http://www.nanowrimo.org/ and sign up. I promise it will be worth it. Either way, you'll get to see where I am come November 30th.

Regards, best wishes, and 50,0o0 words,

-Cecily Jane

*And I've got a great story lined up for this Friday, by the way.

Yes on 8!

My Dear Reader,

I've already posted more on politics than I ever thought that I would. At the same time, I feel that there is at least one more thing that I need to say on the subject, so please consider this post on California's Proposition 8, which would ban homosexual marriage in the state. In short, I absolutely, completely, support Prop 8. I think that voting to pass Prop 8 is the moral, ethical, and wise thing to do. Period.

Now, you may be wondering, Gentle Reader, why a person who is registered to vote in Oregon has anything to say on the matter. The truth is that I almost didn't, because this is a state matter, and because I'm not a resident of that state. But I used to be. I was raised there and I still consider California my home. In addition, I was in this fight from the beginning, and I want to see it finished.

This all started back in 1999, when I was a freshman in high school. That was when an initiative called Proposition 22 was on the ballot. Though I was barely fourteen at the time, I knew how important it was that the proposition be passed. And it was a really, really big deal for everybody. Kids at my school wore Prop 22 signs as shirts. We put up signs everywhere, and we put up with the consequences, such as nieghbors and friends who called us intolerant to homosexuals, among other things. We told them that it wasn't about tolerance at all. It wasn't about hating gays, it was about our religious views. (Our religious views, by the way, prohibit us from hating gays.) It was about our belief that each child has the right to be raised in a home with a mother and a father. It was about our belief that both motherhood and fatherhood are so sacred, and so important, that their combined influences on a child cannot be duplicated by any other social organization. It was about our belief that the role that traditional marriage has in society is elementary, and if tampered with, will have horrible consequences. Why do Mormons consider this a religious issue? Why do we feel it appropriate to allow our religous beliefs to influence our vote? President Gordon B. Hinckley said it best at the same time Prop 22 was on the ballot. The folowing is a quote from his address given in October of 1999:

"'Why does the Church become involved in issues that come before the legislature and the electorate?'

I hasten to add that we deal only with those legislative matters which are of a strictly moral nature or which directly affect the welfare of the Church. . . . We regard it as not only our right but our duty to oppose those forces which we feel undermine the moral fiber of society. . . . Such is currently the case in California, where Latter-day Saints are working as part of a coalition to safeguard traditional marriage from forces in our society which are attempting to redefine that sacred institution. God-sanctioned marriage between a man and a woman has been the basis of civilization for thousands of years. There is no justification to redefine what marriage is. Such is not our right, and those who try will find themselves answerable to God.

Some portray legalization of so-called same-sex marriage as a civil right. This is not a matter of civil rights; it is a matter of morality. Others question our constitutional right as a church to raise our voice on an issue that is of critical importance to the future of the family. We believe that defending this sacred institution by working to preserve traditional marriage lies clearly within our religious and constitutional prerogatives. Indeed, we are compelled by our doctrine to speak out.

Nevertheless, and I emphasize this, I wish to say that our opposition to attempts to legalize same-sex marriage should never be interpreted as justification for hatred, intolerance, or abuse of those who profess homosexual tendencies, either individually or as a group. As I said from this pulpit one year ago, our hearts reach out to those who refer to themselves as gays and lesbians. We love and honor them as sons and daughters of God. They are welcome in the Church. It is expected, however, that they follow the same God-given rules of conduct that apply to everyone else, whether single or married.

I commend those of our membership who have voluntarily joined with other like-minded people to defend the sanctity of traditional marriage. . . . You are contributing your time and talents in a cause that in some quarters may not be politically correct but which nevertheless lies at the heart of the Lord’s eternal plan for His children, just as those of many other churches are doing. This is a united effort."

What better words could be said on the subject? What better words could be said on the issue at hand? President Hinckley, a man who I personally regard as a prophet of God, a man whose addresses lifted and strengthened me in the darkest times of my life, spoke true and eternal words that day, as he did every other day. We listened to his words back in 1999, and we passed Proposition 22 along with 61% of California's population. And as soon as we found ourselves in victory, with our values protected, an official or two decided that the people's voice wasn't valid. So, in short, we have to finish the fight we started nine years ago by passing Proposition 8. This isn't about tolerence; it's about protecting our values, and protecting marriage and the family. Period.

For better words than mine, visit http://iprotectmarriage.com/, http://protectmarriage.com/, and http://www.preservingmarriage.org/.

Regards, best wishes, and morality,

-Cecily Jane

The Eiffel-Frankenstein Phenomenon

My Dear Reader,

I was into my twenties before I ever actually read Frankenstein, and even then, I only read it because I had to. Ironically enough, I read that bulk of it on the deck of a cruise ship in the middle of the Caribbean, which made the experience even more strange than it had to be.* Of course, I knew all I had ever wanted to know about Frankenstein already: the green monster with the bolts on either side of its neck, the maniacal laughter, the hunch-backed assistant, and the excessive amount of lightning. You probably have that same information buzzing through your brain right now, and you may even think that you know everything there is to know about Frankenstein. Here are some things that you probably don't know:

• Not only is Frankenstein the name of the guy who created the monster, not the creature itself, but creator's name is not "Dr. Frankenstein," as he was kicked out of the university before he could complete his degree, and rightly so.
• Mr. Frankenstein is creepily in love with his adopted sister, the one that his mother adopted specifically for the purpose of grooming her from infancy to become Mr. Frankenstein's bride. The monster kills her because Mr. Frankenstein is an idiot.
• The monster taught himself to speak and read, and is probably better-read than you are.
• There is no Igor!
• The story is told in a series of letters, beginning and ending in the Arctic.
• Reading the book is just as pleasurable as eating the book.

In the end, it turns out that the Frankenstein we know exists only in pop culture. Weird, huh? It's almost as weird as reading a horror novel while on a tropical getaway.

I thought about Frankenstein, and all that he means to us, when I talked to Petite Soeur a few days ago on the phone. She's in Paris on a study abroad, and when I asked her if she'd visited the Eiffel Tower (i.e. the one in Paris), she responded in a way that I didn't expect. I asked her to write down what she felt in her own words:

"It was my first free day in Paris and, having no previous engagements, I decided to hike up to the Eiffel Tower. Why not? I was in Paris, and I had to do the Eiffel Tower sometime, and then was as good a time as any, I thought. I wish I hadn't gone. Walking up to the tower was a bit awkward to say the least. There I was, an American girl walking alone, and all around me were couples sprawled all over the Champs de Mars. After all, Paris is the city of love, and the Eiffel Tower is the most recognizeable symbol of Paris. So most people then feel that the Eiffel Tower must be the most romantic place on Earth. And why shouldn't they? I'll tell you why. I climbed up the Eiffel Tower myself, and you know what? It's really not that big of a deal. Sure, you get a really nice view of Paris, but the structure itself is rather ugly from the inside. It's like climbing up through miles and miles of brown scaffolding. I found it odd that, with all of the lovely spots in Paris, this clunky, masculine structure was the one most associated with love and romance. This moment of disollusionment didn't help to ease my lonliness at having come to the tower alone. I climbed down the tower, defeated, having discovered that the Eiffel Tower held no romance and that Paris was a lonely place."

And as I listened to her talk about it, I for the first time realized that despite what I had previously thought about the Eiffel Tower, it was really just an interesting-looking landmark. In fact, there was nothing incredibly romantic about the structure at all, especially considering that it was built to celebrate the very bloody and unromantic French Revolution, and that one of the other designs considered for the structure was a giant guillotine (thanks, History Channel). In fact, the only reason that we associate the Eiffel Tower with romance probably has more to do with our associating Paris with romance. And perhaps, after everything, that link between Paris and romance could be just as artificial as the cultural Frankenstein, who is in reality just as artificially constructed as its literary counterpart. Essentially, it's a load of fiction that we accept as absolute truth. It's a fiction that can even change the way we behave.

And that got me to thinking: what else is there in our brains that is completely artificial? Are these Frankensteinian assumptions just about trivial things, like towers and fictional characters, or are they also about things that are more important? Do we think Frankensteinian thoughts about things that make a difference in our lives, like who runs our country, or which food is good to eat, or how we should treat others? How often do we base our judgements on completely stupid criteria? I suppose that there is no way of knowing, unless, of course, we achieve omniscience. Or unless we ask someone who is omniscient and we actually do some fact-checking on the few things that we can actually verify. And all of a sudden, my entire reality seems just as strange as I felt on that cruise ship reading Frankenstein.

I hope that the feeling will pass soon enough.

Regards, best wishes, and the definition of reality,

-Cecily Jane

*Not only because I was in the Caribbean and reading a horror novel (the term "horror" being applied loosely here), but also because I'm not the type of person who normally goes to the Caribbean (or anywhere outside of California, Oregon or Utah, for that matter), much less reads horror novels. It was incredibly odd on all accounts.