This is a Test; It is Only a Test

I've been reading this book, Who's Afraid of Postmodernism?: Taking Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault to Church by James K.A. Smith, and I've sort of fallen in love with it. It's written for the layman, whatever that means, and for the practitioner, so it's written in language that anyone can understand if they feel like making the effort. There is one work he uses over and over again with which I am unfamiliar...

I'm lost for a moment in looking for the word, and of course, because I am looking for it, it is hopeless that I should actually find it, though I know it occurs the or four times per chapter. Which brings me to the subject of this experiment. I was looking for a quotation I read yesterday. It was a brief statement, seeming to me to sum up my heart-felt belief, and also my dilemma, concerning criticism (or should I say, argumentation?).

If we are going to do justice to postmodernism, our engagement with it needs to be characterized by charity--and charity requires time.

James K.A. Smith says this on page 36, just before he begins to examine Derrida's statement that there is "nothing outside the text" in careful detail, which I have understood from other sources is the only way one should ever read Derrida, that is "carefully and in detail."

On a side note, what the heck are inverted commas? (You'll notice I've just linked to a blog that references inverted commas, but the post isn't about inverted commas. I haven't even read the entire post yet, but I made a snap judgment the other day that I like this girl, so I bookmarked her site, and low and behold, this afternoon something she said springs to mind. Don't you find my randomness irresistible? Now, by the way, I am listening to The Civil Wars.) And how does one acquire them--I mean inverted commas?

Getting to the point, I wanted to find this quote, but in flipping through the pages I just couldn't find it, so I went on Google and did a word search. There's no particular reason why I tend to use Google, only that it is the first search engine that ever springs to mind, and there it is right in my web browser. I am in the habit of using Google products--such as Google Books, which is where I found the quote I was looking for, as well as a large portion of this text.

I was thrilled to find exactly the quotation I was looking for, pleased as well that I could see which page the quotation was on and turn to that very page in the library's copy of the book, and then I saw that I could either copy a link and link the the page, or embed something in my text elsewhere. That's when I got the idea that has unaccountably gotten me writing this afternoon.

What would it mean to embed this link into the text of a blog post? It doesn't help that I don't actually know how to use html, and so cannot work on the same page where the embedding is done. This is an experiment.



What will show up when I press the preview button? Better yet, what will show up when I eventually post it to my blog, as I have now decided to do? Would it actually make better sense for me to just put it in as a link considering that would simplify matters so very much? I won't get to find out until you do.

You have been party to an experiment. Thank you for your patience in following the twists and turns of my curious logic. The word I was looking for earlier was "kerygmatic," kerygama being the Greek word used for preaching of the Gospel used in the New Testament, or so one of the more convenient online dictionaries tell me.

It Sounds So Academic and He's Just a Baby

I try to be very careful about the wording I use with Parker. For instance, I try to give him a truthful indication of how long a task is expected to take. "Parker, mommy and daddy are going to leave you here (in the nursery) for a while. It's going to seem like a really long time to you, but it will really only be for three hours, and I promise we will come back and get you. If it is at all in our power we will come back and get you." I don't know how many of these words he understands, but still I try to be as accurate with my language as possible.

However, it is very difficult to break the habit of using "just a minute" to apply to all sorts of possible time frames. "Parker, I am going to take a shower now. You go and play with Daddy and I'll be out in just a minute." That of course is before he starts banging on the door and crying to get it. "Baby, you stay out there. I'll be out in just a minute."

So do you think he's too young to understand that words can have many different meanings? I think he probably is, and that being the case I fear that I have given him a very confusing idea of what a minute entails.

Of course, Parker understands much more of what we say than we necessarily know, and giving him accurate information now can only prepare us and him for understanding complicated abstractions later on.

When Parker was much smaller I would sit out on my front steps and tell him as many multi-syllabic words as I could think of. Then I'd choose a letter and think of words beginning with that letter. It was more an opportunity to let him hear my voice than any sort of learning exercise for him. Funny how I don't do that anymore, although the fact that he no longer sits still on my lap has much to do with it.

Fun with Grammar

While I'm thinking about grammar, I was just watching an episode from the first season of Reba. Van is preparing to move back into his parent's house, and he's brought his pregnant teenaged wife along with him. It hasn't occurred to him that his parents would expect him to leave his wife behind. His parents try to set him straight:

"But you said 'We want you to move back in.' I'm married now. 'You' means me and Cheyenne."

"Van, your English. 'You' doesn't mean 'both of you.' If we'd have meant that we'd have said 'y'all.'"

Another Exerpt from *Love Over Scotland,* this one concerning grammar

"Have you guys been waiting long?" asked Leonie, as she took off her jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. "Babs and me walked."

Matthew thought: why can't people distinguish between nominative and accusative any more? He wanted to say to Leonie: "Would you say me walked? (253)"

This was another moment that I really enjoyed because, like my grandmother (Nana) before me, I always notice when people, especially people on television, get this wrong. Of course usually I see the opposite problem. It happened in an episode of Little House Michael and I saw earlier tonight. Laura asked her mother, "Do you want Albert and I to go for a walk?"