High Fructose Corn Syrup Will Never Taste As Sweet to Me Again

So this is a little hat tip to something that I've been obsessing over lately and even discussing with some of my friends (hello Evangelical Environmental Network!). While working down here on the border I have become (even more) fascinated by the interconnectedness of our world. I have spent so much time this year thinking about the ways in which migration, economics, agriculture, the environment, etc. are all linked to one another. And this great article, written by Michael Pollan, talks about just that.

To try and cut down on the length of this post (and therefore increase your likelihood of reading it) I'm going to do this in two parts. I'm pasting the article below for your reading pleasure (it can also be found right here in a more legal setting). A few days from now (give or take) I'm going to be writing a little follow-up piece with some further thoughts and a few more links to make this conversation more interesting.

By MICHAEL POLLAN
Published: April 22, 2007
The New York Times Magazine

A few years ago, an obesity researcher at the University of Washington named Adam Drewnowski ventured into the supermarket to solve a mystery. He wanted to figure out why it is that the most reliable predictor of obesity in America today is a person's wealth. For most of history, after all, the poor have typically suffered from a shortage of calories, not a surfeit. So how is it that today the people with the least amount of money to spend on food are the ones most likely to be overweight?

Drewnowski gave himself a hypothetical dollar to spend, using it to purchase as many calories as he possibly could. He discovered that he could buy the most calories per dollar in the middle aisles of the supermarket, among the towering canyons of processed food and soft drink. (In the typical American supermarket, the fresh foods — dairy, meat, fish and produce — line the perimeter walls, while the imperishable packaged goods dominate the center.) Drewnowski found that a dollar could buy 1,200 calories of cookies or potato chips but only 250 calories of carrots. Looking for something to wash down those chips, he discovered that his dollar bought 875 calories of soda but only 170 calories of orange juice.

As a rule, processed foods are more "energy dense" than fresh foods: they contain less water and fiber but more added fat and sugar, which makes them both less filling and more fattening. These particular calories also happen to be the least healthful ones in the marketplace, which is why we call the foods that contain them "junk." Drewnowski concluded that the rules of the food game in America are organized in such a way that if you are eating on a budget, the most rational economic strategy is to eat badly — and get fat.

This perverse state of affairs is not, as you might think, the inevitable result of the free market. Compared with a bunch of carrots, a package of Twinkies, to take one iconic processed foodlike substance as an example, is a highly complicated, high-tech piece of manufacture, involving no fewer than 39 ingredients, many themselves elaborately manufactured, as well as the packaging and a hefty marketing budget. So how can the supermarket possibly sell a pair of these synthetic cream-filled pseudocakes for less than a bunch of roots?

For the answer, you need look no farther than the farm bill. This resolutely unglamorous and head-hurtingly complicated piece of legislation, which comes around roughly every five years and is about to do so again, sets the rules for the American food system — indeed, to a considerable extent, for the world's food system. Among other things, it determines which crops will be subsidized and which will not, and in the case of the carrot and the Twinkie, the farm bill as currently written offers a lot more support to the cake than to the root. Like most processed foods, the Twinkie is basically a clever arrangement of carbohydrates and fats teased out of corn, soybeans and wheat — three of the five commodity crops that the farm bill supports, to the tune of some $25 billion a year. (Rice and cotton are the others.) For the last several decades — indeed, for about as long as the American waistline has been ballooning — U.S. agricultural policy has been designed in such a way as to promote the overproduction of these five commodities, especially corn and soy.

That's because the current farm bill helps commodity farmers by cutting them a check based on how many bushels they can grow, rather than, say, by supporting prices and limiting production, as farm bills once did. The result? A food system awash in added sugars (derived from corn) and added fats (derived mainly from soy), as well as dirt-cheap meat and milk (derived from both). By comparison, the farm bill does almost nothing to support farmers growing fresh produce. A result of these policy choices is on stark display in your supermarket, where the real price of fruits and vegetables between 1985 and 2000 increased by nearly 40 percent while the real price of soft drinks (a k a liquid corn) declined by 23 percent. The reason the least healthful calories in the supermarket are the cheapest is that those are the ones the farm bill encourages farmers to grow.

A public-health researcher from Mars might legitimately wonder why a nation faced with what its surgeon general has called "an epidemic" of obesity would at the same time be in the business of subsidizing the production of high-fructose corn syrup. But such is the perversity of the farm bill: the nation's agricultural policies operate at cross-purposes with its public-health objectives. And the subsidies are only part of the problem. The farm bill helps determine what sort of food your children will have for lunch in school tomorrow. The school-lunch program began at a time when the public-health problem of America's children was undernourishment, so feeding surplus agricultural commodities to kids seemed like a win-win strategy. Today the problem is overnutrition, but a school lunch lady trying to prepare healthful fresh food is apt to get dinged by U.S.D.A. inspectors for failing to serve enough calories; if she dishes up a lunch that includes chicken nuggets and Tater Tots, however, the inspector smiles and the reimbursements flow. The farm bill essentially treats our children as a human Disposall for all the unhealthful calories that the farm bill has encouraged American farmers to overproduce.

To speak of the farm bill's influence on the American food system does not begin to describe its full impact — on the environment, on global poverty, even on immigration. By making it possible for American farmers to sell their crops abroad for considerably less than it costs to grow them, the farm bill helps determine the price of corn in Mexico and the price of cotton in Nigeria and therefore whether farmers in those places will survive or be forced off the land, to migrate to the cities — or to the United States. The flow of immigrants north from Mexico since Nafta is inextricably linked to the flow of American corn in the opposite direction, a flood of subsidized grain that the Mexican government estimates has thrown two million Mexican farmers and other agricultural workers off the land since the mid-90s. (More recently, the ethanol boom has led to a spike in corn prices that has left that country reeling from soaring tortilla prices; linking its corn economy to ours has been an unalloyed disaster for Mexico's eaters as well as its farmers.) You can't fully comprehend the pressures driving immigration without comprehending what U.S. agricultural policy is doing to rural agriculture in Mexico.

And though we don't ordinarily think of the farm bill in these terms, few pieces of legislation have as profound an impact on the American landscape and environment. Americans may tell themselves they don't have a national land-use policy, that the market by and large decides what happens on private property in America, but that's not exactly true. The smorgasbord of incentives and disincentives built into the farm bill helps decide what happens on nearly half of the private land in America: whether it will be farmed or left wild, whether it will be managed to maximize productivity (and therefore doused with chemicals) or to promote environmental stewardship. The health of the American soil, the purity of its water, the biodiversity and the very look of its landscape owe in no small part to impenetrable titles, programs and formulae buried deep in the farm bill.

Given all this, you would think the farm-bill debate would engage the nation's political passions every five years, but that hasn't been the case. If the quintennial antidrama of the "farm bill debate" holds true to form this year, a handful of farm-state legislators will thrash out the mind-numbing details behind closed doors, with virtually nobody else, either in Congress or in the media, paying much attention. Why? Because most of us assume that, true to its name, the farm bill is about "farming," an increasingly quaint activity that involves no one we know and in which few of us think we have a stake. This leaves our own representatives free to ignore the farm bill, to treat it as a parochial piece of legislation affecting a handful of their Midwestern colleagues. Since we aren't paying attention, they pay no political price for trading, or even selling, their farm-bill votes. The fact that the bill is deeply encrusted with incomprehensible jargon and prehensile programs dating back to the 1930s makes it almost impossible for the average legislator to understand the bill should he or she try to, much less the average citizen. It's doubtful this is an accident.

But there are signs this year will be different. The public-health community has come to recognize it can't hope to address obesity and diabetes without addressing the farm bill. The environmental community recognizes that as long as we have a farm bill that promotes chemical and feedlot agriculture, clean water will remain a pipe dream. The development community has woken up to the fact that global poverty can't be fought without confronting the ways the farm bill depresses world crop prices. They got a boost from a 2004 ruling by the World Trade Organization that U.S. cotton subsidies are illegal; most observers think that challenges to similar subsidies for corn, soy, wheat or rice would also prevail.

And then there are the eaters, people like you and me, increasingly concerned, if not restive, about the quality of the food on offer in America. A grass-roots social movement is gathering around food issues today, and while it is still somewhat inchoate, the manifestations are everywhere: in local efforts to get vending machines out of the schools and to improve school lunch; in local campaigns to fight feedlots and to force food companies to better the lives of animals in agriculture; in the spectacular growth of the market for organic food and the revival of local food systems. In great and growing numbers, people are voting with their forks for a different sort of food system. But as powerful as the food consumer is — it was that consumer, after all, who built a $15 billion organic-food industry and more than doubled the number of farmer's markets in the last few years — voting with our forks can advance reform only so far. It can't, for example, change the fact that the system is rigged to make the most unhealthful calories in the marketplace the only ones the poor can afford. To change that, people will have to vote with their votes as well — which is to say, they will have to wade into the muddy political waters of agricultural policy.

Doing so starts with the recognition that the "farm bill" is a misnomer; in truth, it is a food bill and so needs to be rewritten with the interests of eaters placed first. Yes, there are eaters who think it in their interest that food just be as cheap as possible, no matter how poor the quality. But there are many more who recognize the real cost of artificially cheap food — to their health, to the land, to the animals, to the public purse. At a minimum, these eaters want a bill that aligns agricultural policy with our public-health and environmental values, one with incentives to produce food cleanly, sustainably and humanely. Eaters want a bill that makes the most healthful calories in the supermarket competitive with the least healthful ones. Eaters want a bill that feeds schoolchildren fresh food from local farms rather than processed surplus commodities from far away. Enlightened eaters also recognize their dependence on farmers, which is why they would support a bill that guarantees the people who raise our food not subsidies but fair prices. Why? Because they prefer to live in a country that can still produce its own food and doesn't hurt the world's farmers by dumping its surplus crops on their markets.

The devil is in the details, no doubt. Simply eliminating support for farmers won't solve these problems; overproduction has afflicted agriculture since long before modern subsidies. It will take some imaginative policy making to figure out how to encourage farmers to focus on taking care of the land rather than all-out production, on growing real food for eaters rather than industrial raw materials for food processors and on rebuilding local food economies, which the current farm bill hobbles. But the guiding principle behind an eater's farm bill could not be more straightforward: it's one that changes the rules of the game so as to promote the quality of our food (and farming) over and above its quantity.

Such changes are radical only by the standards of past farm bills, which have faithfully reflected the priorities of the agribusiness interests that wrote them. One of these years, the eaters of America are going to demand a place at the table, and we will have the political debate over food policy we need and deserve. This could prove to be that year: the year when the farm bill became a food bill, and the eaters at last had their say.


Michael Pollan, a contributing writer, is the Knight professor of journalism at the University of California, Berkeley. His most recent book is "The Omnivore's Dilemma."

(In the photo: Michael Pollan in all his glory)

New York City for the win.

From the Times:

Recalling a movement that challenged United States policy in Central America in the 1980s, several religious congregations in New York and other cities will announce a campaign Wednesday to provide sanctuary to illegal immigrants who face deportation.

As of Tuesday, the organizers of what is being called the New Sanctuary Movement said that five churches in New York City had already offered assistance to two families — one from China and one from Haiti — and would provide them with shelter if the federal government moved to enforce the deportation orders filed against them.

“We’re launching now because we’re fed up with detentions, deportations and raids,” said the Rev. Dr. Donna Schaper, the senior minister of Judson Memorial Church in Greenwich Village. “We felt it was not morally possible to remain silent.”

The Quarter Life: Romantic Relationships Rd. 2

My great friend Mike wrote a really amazing piece for the last Quarter Life. Check it out here.

After writing my last installment of The Quarter Life I got a comment from my friend Lexie asking me to answer some questions she had about that post. Here are a few of my thoughts. Anything for a friend, Lex.

Very conservative philosophy Aaron!! This reminds me of a guy i dated in high school who broke up with me by saying "I can live without you." it made me so mad. Anyhoo, what do you think of dating just to learn more about yourself/others? Like the Townsend/McCloud philosophy? Or the idea of focusing on dating itself/trying to date a lot as a particular season, much like seasons of intentionally not dating?

I think that experience, the experience of ourselves in a relationship, and the experience of an intimate encounter with another person, is probably the strongest argument out there for why dating is a fantastic idea. I have learned a great deal about myself from dating. I have also learned a tremendous amount about women/men/God/life/love/etc. from dating, much more than I could ever possibly relate to you here. And learning for learning's sake, as any liberal arts grad will tell you, is a very good thing. Unfortunately, most of what I learned from some of those relationships was learned the hard way. And just because I learned something does not mean that those relationships were a good idea to begin with, or functional by any stretch of the imagination. Calling some of them relationships, in all honesty, might be too kind. Was some of that hardship and hurt necessary? Possibly. Immaturity, "life issues," ideas about what dating should be, etc., all played their part in making some of my past relationships memorable for all the wrong reasons. But poor choices about when and who I should date did not make things any better.

So "learning about yourself" is great, but it can be a messy and dangerous affair. Even more so if that is your primary, or only purpose, in dating that specific person. Going into a relationship (or even a date) thinking "I like them-ish," while not a sure recipe for disaster, does raise some ethical questions. Starting to date someone without a clear sense of why you are doing it or what you want out of it opens yourself up to a host of complications, but it also leaves you very much in danger of hurting the other person. Do they share your vision of dating? If not, your "learning about yourself" could be their "getting rejected by someone I really, really liked." Like I said in my last post, I don't believe that we date because we desire it, but because we must. Ideally the two coincide.

Dating in the right context is clearly very good. To put this in a somewhat (ok, very) crude manner, marriage is not a product that we should buy without shopping around a little bit first. So in that sense, I'm all for dating. I'm just not all for dating every person (or even most people) that come your way. In high school there were a few girls that I should have asked out on a date but didn't because I was afraid of rejection. Clearly that was not a healthy way to date (or, more specifically, not to date). I also dated a girl in high school that I barely knew because she came on to me very strongly (i.e. I knew that rejection wasn't likely) and that turned out, not surprisingly, very poorly. In the first example I needed more initiative, in the second, more wisdom and self-control.

I personally don't believe that a "season of dating" is a very good idea for many reasons, but for a few especially compelling ones in particular. Relationships, ideally, are special. We value our family (in many cases) more highly than our friends, and our friends more highly than our acquaintances. This formula (there's that word again) becomes more complicated when we insert Christ into our lives, but I won't go into that here. The point is that most people feel that different types of relationships are, well, different, and that some of them are more special than others. Dating should be a special act reserved for people we really care about.

The most serious problem with a season of dating, in my opinion, is the potential for that season to turn into a long-term (or even lifetime) commitment. How many people do you know who started seeing someone casually ("just to see"/hooking up at parties/season of dating/we're just friends) and just never stopped? This scenario doesn't always end badly, I can think of many happy couples who started off this way. But is it something to which we should aspire? What other major life choices do we take "just try it out" or "we'll see what happens" attitudes with? Is that how you chose a college? Plan to buy a house? This might make me conservative, but I think that dating is something to be respected and, in some sense, feared. In my experience it is much easier to never date someone at all than to stop dating them once the process has been started. And once you start dating, going back to being friends is always a difficult process. In many cases it simply doesn't work. Since most people that you will ever meet are going to be friends instead of dates, why not preserve those friendships rather than explore dating just because it's fun?

I also think that a "season of dating" sort of misses the point of a "season of not dating." At various times I have resisted the urge to enter into potentially great dating situations because of time constraints/outside pressures/personal issues/need to grow with God/whatever. But that should be the exception, not the rule. The default for any single Christian should be "available for dating," unless there is other work in your life that needs to be done. For many of us, there is. So a season of not dating is a way to recognize a unique situation and make an intentional choice about it. A season of dating, to me, seems like a license to do things that you wouldn't do otherwise. "I don't really like him that much, but I'm trying to date a lot right now." See my point? What prompts a season of dating? Why doesn't that prompt being open to dating in general, as long as the person is right?

When I think back on just my time here in Agua Prieta, let alone college, there are a number of women that I probably could have started dating at one time or another. I do not believe that any of those relationships would have been a very good choice. So my dating here has been more than conservative, it has been non-existent. But I believe it has also been the most healthy and faithful choice that I could have made. I haven't done it perfectly, but it could have been a lot worse.

I have some more thoughts that I could but I think I'll leave it at that. I'd love to hear what you (or any of you) have to say about this.

The Quarter Life: Romantic Relationships

It's the moment that you've all been waiting for, round two of The Quarter Life. My first Quarter Life, a post on friendship and community, can be found right here. Bryce's first Quarter Life post can be found here, and his new post, like all of his other fine writing, can be found over at Six Hours On Sunday.

If you're new to this blog since we started The Quarter Life I suggest checking out the old posts first to see what it is that we're doing up in here. I'm also well aware that some other folks are probably going to be jumping in on this, so if you are over the age of twenty (and under the age of thirty), and feel like writing a post for this, let me know and I will link it up here.

One final note. I have written this post from my own perspective, i.e., the perspective of a man who engages in romantic relationships exclusively with women. This is not to exclude other types of relationships, but rather to avoid speaking about things which I have not experienced for myself. Just so you know.



When I think about "romantic" relationships and the period of life that I am in right now, my thoughts immediately separate into two distinct categories. In the first category are memories of past relationships, my current thoughts about women, love, and associated nonsense, and finally, my desires and prayers for my relationships in the future.

The second category, which I must confess is substantially more active than the first at this present moment, is filled with my thoughts about, memories of, and great hopes for my friends' relationships, their better halves, and in some cases, their future spouses.

As I am prone to do, I find that I have processed the entirety of romantic love down into two neat packages: my own, and everybody else's.

I could write a monster of a blog post if I chose to talk about both of these things, so instead I think I'll just stick with myself. It's not that I don't love my friends, it's just that I'm such a great topic choice. I jest. I'm also not going to say very much about God in this post as it would stretch an already long post to the point of breaking. Instead I will say that my thoughts here are informed so deeply by my faith that to dwell on them would be like pointing out the sun when looking at the sky. And I'll leave it at that.

Ok, it's confession time. If I'm going to talk about relationships, I have to get this one out of the way: I used to have this sort of formula thing for dating. That sounds pretty sick, I know. I used it in order to figure out who I should date, and when I should date them. It's an odd thing to have to admit to. To be honest, if someone were trying to get me interested in dating their friend, finding out that said friend had a "dating formula" would just about guarantee that the two of us would never see the inside of a movie theater alone. Ah hypocrisy.

But I basically used that formula to guide my romantic life for years, and to some extent I still do. I have acquired the good sense to stop thinking about it as a formula, but much of the philosophy from those days does in fact remain. In my defense, I will say that both the formula and the philosophy were either stolen directly from my sister, or developed in the context of her own reflections about her dating experiences. And now she's happily married with a really cool dog, so it can't be all bad, right?

So what was the formula? Well before I get into that let me talk a little bit about the philosophy behind the formula. My general sense when I first started using the formula was that dating, as most of us practiced it, was a bad thing. Bad in the sense that that most of my friends and I just sort of stumbled into dating with the vague notion that it felt good and everyone else was doing it.

I did have the good sense, even at that tender age, to realize that not dating was sort of a bad idea as well. Josh Harris never convinced me that "kissing dating goodbye" was something to which I should aspire. The transition from being single to a lifetime of marriage, no matter how much some Christians (*cough Boundless webzine cough*) like to talk about "courtship," seems like it should have at least a few intermediary steps. And some of those steps should include dinner and a movie with someone you aren't committed to sharing a bed with for the rest of your earthly days.

So my formula for dating was born from a sense that dating is a great thing when practiced with extreme restraint. And the formula helped me to figure out when I should enter into the wonderful mystery that is a relationship, and when it'd be best if I just stayed clear of it and, sigh, her, altogether.

Here's the formula: If I began to like a woman, that is to say, favored her above any of the other women in my acquaintance, the first step I would take was to hurry up and wait. Doing nothing was a key strategy in my dating formula. Why nothing? Well, nothing gives you a lot of time for the deer-in-the-headlights attraction to go away and a little bit of clear thinking to return to the situation. That incredibly smart/attractive/fun girl in my Women's Studies class? Also a devout atheist. Hmmm, guess it's a good thing I didn't ask her to dinner. To be quite honest, doing nothing is what I have done for most of my life. I have spent years doing nothing with one girl or another. I'm great at doing nothing.

And that's basically the way that the formula works. It's nothing if not simple. If you notice yourself liking a girl, the most important thing that you can possibly do is to say nothing to her and never do anything about it. Nothing is the backbone of the whole system.

Ok, you got me. The one problem with my formula is that if you always do nothing then there's a pretty good chance that you will never date anyone. Ever. That's not a formula, that's a religious order. It's a fair criticism. This is where the exception clause comes in. You always do nothing until someone comes along who is so compelling that you absolutely must must make an exception for them. So you break the cardinal commandment of doing nothing and you actually say something to her. You might even ask her name. Kidding.

At this stage in life there are always good reasons why, at any given time, I probably shouldn't be dating. And there are always pretty compelling reasons why I shouldn't be dating most of the women that I might be interested in. But sometimes you meet someone so great that none of that matters. So dating, in my opinion, should be reserved for the times when that woman is so incredible that not getting into a relationship with her would be a folly of the highest order.

And this is where I can start to get myself into trouble. The thing is, I know A LOT of incredible women. A multitude. A plethora. A surplus even. I know more awesome women than I can be friends with, let alone date. But clearly I am not trying very hard given that I am currently seeing none of them. Which is an observation that actually takes us into a different philosophy I have on relationships. The "table" philosophy, as I like to call it.

The four legs of any successful relationship (hence the table) are spiritual, intellectual, relational, and physical. I think that's pretty self-explanatory. For a relationship to work, two people need to be compatible in those four ways. And as most of us know, that isn't exactly easy to achieve. So the question is not "Is this girl amazing?" but rather "Is this girl amazing for me?" Because of this the question "Are you dating anyone right now?" always struck me as mostly harmless, but the ensuing "Would you like to be?" always rubbed me the wrong way. Dating, I have always believed, is something that you embark upon not because you would like to at any given time, but because you encounter someone so incredible that you have no other choice but to share at least some part of your life with them.

And so that's where I'm at. I've stopped using the formula, but I'm still using the philosophy. I still look at dating with quite a bit of hesitancy, and at marriage with a sense that "I really want this- at some point in the future." And I still weigh my interest in women (one woman at a time, naturally) against whether or not dating one of them is the only sensible thing I could possibly do. Not very romantic, I know. But I hope that it's fair to me and fair to potential partners, and I pray that it's faithful. And one day in the future I believe that it will lead me to someone to hike with, watch BOTH versions of "Pride and Prejudice" with, to argue with, and to play with. Most importantly, I pray that it will bring me into the steady presence of someone who will travel with me on a path that will bring both of us closer to the people that God would have us be.

That is just about as close to living happily ever after as I would care to have it.

Evangelical + Progressive + Radical + Loving = Sexiness

If you've ever thought: I'm way too conservative to be a "liberal," but there's no way I'm a Republican.

It's really dumb that the same people who get so worked up over abortion don't seem to have a problem with the death penalty at all. Those both seem like pretty bad ideas.

I want something different for my life. I want my life to be like the book of Acts, not like The Real World.

Women make really great leaders.

Drinking, smoking, and swearing seem like really silly reasons to send someone to hell.

Secular progressives really don't get me. Christian conservatives? I think they get me even less. Neither of them speak for me.

I really want to live faithfully, but sometimes it seems like the system is stacked against me. What does it mean to love people when I buy shoes? Go to my job? Decide where to live?

I like my sketchers, but I LOVE my Prada backpack.*

I wish that there were more singers/preachers/authors/prophets/leaders like Bart Campolo/Shane Claiborne/Rob Bell/Anne Lammott/Donald Miller/Derek Webb.

It's not my revolution if I can't dance to it.

Sex is so much more important than my friends make it out to be.

Fighting gay/lesbian/bi/trans/queer people just doesn't feel like love.

It's so great how many amazing people I know who love Jesus, love people, and are changing the world because of it.

If you've ever thought any of those things, then I have a confession to make: So have I. Cool, huh?

And apparently so have a whole bunch of other people. Read this article. It's long, but it's very very important.

Did you read the article? Because that was the whole purpose of this post. Seriously.Read it.

Something Bryce posted got me thinking about the problem that we as thoughtful/progressive/evangelical/radical/beautiful/sexual/intellectual/artistic followers of Jesus have. Well, it's several problems really, but mostly it's an image problem. People just do not understand how many of us there really are, what we believe in, or what we are trying to accomplish.

Secular progressives, perhaps rightfully so, get freaked out and run the first time they hear the word Jesus. Ditto for religious folks of a different faith. Kudos to AlterNet for posting this. Secular progressives complimenting suburban Christians can only be called miraculous. If you say evangelical to any one of my secular friends from Pomona, you would get a negative response. Or they wouldn't know what you meant. That's not a good sign.

"Traditional" evangelicals/Christians think that we're a bunch of tree-hugging hippies who have cast our lot in with the devil and his kin. To be fair, some of us are tree loving hippies. Sorry Erik, you'll just have to live with it. The positions that some of us hold (Bart Campolo: Gay marriage is good, Donald Miller: post-modern thought is good, Jim Wallis: Jesus cares about the environment) are so foreign to people like Dobson and Ralph Reed that we may as well not be Christians. When pressed, they might agree that we aren't.

And finally, "we" isn't really a we. This article makes it seem like there is an "us," but there really isn't. It's a BIG tent. Reading Relevant does not mean that you read Sojourners. Liking Donald Miller does not mean that you think American global capitalism has serious problems. Going to a church with women in leadership does not mean that you think that gay marriage is ok. On the whole, I think that all of that is good. Clearly it's important to have beliefs. But it's also important not to exclude people for holding well thought out, faithful positions, that aren't your own. Jesus probably loves them too. But that puts us in a classic progressive bind. How do you make people who have a lot in common feel like they are connected, powerful, and influential (which they are) without resorting to essentialist tendencies (ex: you must believe x,y, and z or you just aren't with us)? Last year Bart Campolo said, more or less, that he doesn't believe in a God who sends people to hell. If evangelicals could excommunicate, he would no longer be welcome to communion. In some places he probably isn't. So obviously we have some issues. But we have a lot more promise. More and more churches across the country are being transformed in ways that are very, very good. I am having more and more conversations with people who are involved in completely amazing grassroots action, willing the kingdom into being by the sheer force of their love. But I don't think any of us has really realized yet how many people are having these conversations. Am I excited? You bet I am.

Are you in?

Thanks to Zach Exley for writing this. I've been thinking it for years.
Thanks to Zach Lind for posting this link over at Finding Rhythm. P.S.- Zach is the drummer for Jimmy Eat World. You're right, he IS the man.
Thanks to all of you for being revolutionaries in a whole bunch of ways. The world is changing.

(In the photo: Tony Campolo gets his preach on)
*Ok, I haven't thought that. But I do love Ten Things I Hate About You.

Anne Coulter Really Stole My Thunder On Edwards Controversies

You heard it here first. The criticism of Edwards' new house, the request for Kuo to ask about it, the posting of the interview, and now my response.

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about then scroll down a little bit. It'll all come to you.

As an aside, I highly suggest watching the full beliefnet interview with Edwards, which can be found right here. First and foremost, it was pretty refreshing to see someone who used to work within the George W. Bush White House sit down with a presidential candidate from the Democratic Party for a discussion on personal faith and its role in public life. I thought that the interview itself was great. I really like the questions that Kuo posed, and I was more than impressed by many of the answers that Edwards gave. If you are not going to watch the whole thing then at least try to watch the part where he answers the question about the house.


The residence in question:




This article from the Carolina Journal Online reports that the 28,200 square foot complex, built on 102 acres of property, is valued at over 6 million dollars by the county tax assessor. Apparently it is now the most valuable house in the county.

The "Journal" writes that "the main house is 10,400 square feet and has two garages. The recreation building, a red, barn-like building containing 15,600 square feet, is connected to the house by a closed-in and roofed structure of varying widths and elevations that totals 2,200 square feet," and that "the recreation building contains a basketball court, a squash court, two stages, a bedroom, kitchen, bathrooms, swimming pool, a four-story tower, and a room designated 'John’s Lounge'.”

Just so we all know what's being talked about.

Now on to business. Here's my transcript from that part of the interview:

Kuo: "Does the size of your house undercut your discussion on poverty?"

Edwards : "I think it's a fair question, first of all..I come from a very modest place and I've done well...and we have a very nice physical structure. It's completely unimportant. What matters is what happens inside that structure. I'm not for a minute suggesting that we're saints, or that we've done more than a lot of other people have done, but we have done...(lists "causes"...So, do I think we've done everything we could do? No, I don't think anybody does."

He clearly ducked the question about his house. To be honest, he didn't even duck it that well. What he tried to do, after a few brief remarks, was to steer the conversation away from his house and towards his charitable giving as well as his involvement in various "causes." If there's one thing I really hate, it's politicians ducking questions.

What is really telling, however, is the way that he explains why the size of his house is unimportant. That one sentence, "What matters is what happens inside that structure," stood out to me more and more as I continued to watch that part of the interview. What does happen inside that structure John? You can go swimming, play a massive game of hide-and-go-seek, plan national campaigns, use one of countless bathrooms...the list is endless really. But you can't identify with 99% of the American people, can you? Not living inside of that house. And let's face it, if you can't identify with Americans, you are definitely not going to be able to identify with the rest of the world. It's not even like he was just trying to keep up with the Jones' either. That's the most expensive house in the county. We get it John, you've done well for yourself.

The thing is, by ducking this question, Edwards called places doubt in my mind about the authenticity of his other answers. He didn't say that he wrestled with the decision, but believed it was ok with God, and compatible with his poverty work. He didn't say that he wanted to use it to further the Kingdom. He said, esentially, that he had done well for himself, so why not? That's just unacceptable to me as a Christian. If you read the Bible, talk about its role in shaping your beliefs on poverty, and still build that house, I believe that there is a fundamental disconnect somewhere. I will not question his faith, but I will question how willing he is to apply it to his own life.

I'm not saying that John Edwards and his family shouldn't enjoy their money in some capacity. I am saying that they have chosen to do so in a way that isolates them from the reality in which the rest of us live. The decision to spend six million dollars on a house that is 3/4 as large as the mansion owned by Bill Gates is just not one that I will ever be able to relate to. Can you relate to it? No matter how many scholarships he gives, or Habitat homes he sponsors, his decision that each member of his family needs more than one million dollars of home will never go away.

Someone once told me that if you want to make good decisions then you should ask for advice from people who have made good decisions in the past. This house makes me extremely skeptical about John Edwards' decisions in the future. Believing that a candidate will make good decisions is sort of an important component in wanting someone to be the leader of the free world.

Of course there is more that could be said. What about the environment? What does that house say about the need to care for this planet in an increasingly populated and industrialized world? What does it say about his commitment to that? I think I've said enough, however. Everything that I wanted to say, save this last little bit:

John, you had a chance to win me back. You had it, and you blew it. It was nice while it lasted. I still might support you for Vice again though.

p.s.- Thanks to Bryce for the link. If you want to see the video clip of Anne Coulter's remarks on Edwards it is posted right here.

Easily One of the Best Baby Pictures I Have Ever Seen

www.dotherightthing.com* posted a link to a really interesting Business Week article with Chipotle founder and CEO Steve Ells.

It's a fascinating article for anyone who has found themselves frequenting Chipotle seven or eight times a week. Come to think of it, that would include many people who frequent this blog.

I'm really impressed with Ells and the business decisions that he is making.

Link to the article right here.

* www.dotherightthing.com is a really cool website that has user-generated updates on the business practices of companies. Their motto is "People Changing Business." I highly recommend checking it out.

p.s.- Chipotle definitely deserves its own blog tag.

Oh Snap

David Kuo is going to be interviewing John Edwards for beliefnet and is asking for questions to be submitted over at his blog.

Apparently I am not the only who thinks he has some explaining to do about the resort he is calling his new family home.

I hope Kuo asks the question. I hope Edwards answers it. This has the potential to narrow my support down to one.

Is it a sin to covet an ash cross on someone's head?

Today is Ash Wednesday. I am sad to say that I will not make it to a service today. I really wanted my ashes.

Despite this tragic setback I did manage to celebrate the beginning of Lent with my very dear friend Julia who came to visit me today. We hung out in Agua Prieta and ate some delicious tacos, then headed up to Bisbee for a little ice cream cone action. It was great to see her, and makes me miss all of my Po-mo-na/Claremont College folks.

My second celebration of Lent starts today as well. I had been thinking long and hard about how I should celebrate Lent this year, and later what I should give up. In years past I have given up tv (no Simpsons was really difficult), meat (not as hard as I would have thought), and "sweets" (I like sweets). This year I decided to really test myself and give up music. Not listening to it, that would kill me. I have decided to give up buying it. I know that this is a good thing to give up because I REALLY don't want to do it. I mean, I don't even have the entire Iron and Wine collection. Can that really wait forty more days?! As a way to pursue love, because I don't really think that Lent should be about self-deprivation, but rather about faithful reflection and celebration, I am going to give away the money that I would have spent on music to something worthwhile. Don't ask me what, I haven't quite decided. I'll keep you posted though.

That's A Nice Reminder

So I've been going a little bit crazy lately. I feel like my work is all out of sorts and I have been spending A LOT of annoying time on the phone with tech support companies.

I still feel that way, but stopping to play this game helped my perspective quite a bit.

Sim Sweatshop. Check it out. www.simsweatshop.com (link's aren't working for me again. My main problem with blooger.)

My Boxer Briefs Are Sweatfree

Last week I was really out of underwear.

I got to the point where I had worn through a few old pairs, left a good set in Chiapas, and needed to make the investment that every man I know tries desperately to put off, new underwear.

I had made it my goal to, if at all possible, meet this need without resorting to buying something that could have been made in a sweatshop. I'm equally unimpressed with companies that manufacture goods at rock-bottom wages, but not in what is technically a sweatshop, and then jack up the price on us. In this instance, however, I was simply looking to avoid anything possibly made in a sweatshop.

In a town like Douglas, AZ (as in most places in America), looking for a product not potentially made in a sweatshop was pretty much impossible, which sent me straight to the internet. Unsure of where to begin, I started my search for fair-trade underwear with a little trip to google.

My query of "sweatshop free boxer briefs" yielded "about" 19,900 results, the very first of which was the promising looking Justice Clothing.

Following that link brought me to http://www.justiceclothing.com/thereis/justice/lw20300.html (sorry, links aren't working for me again), which, sure enough, was a site where I could order a union made (in Pottstown, PA no less!) three pack of white, grey, or black boxer briefs, in my choice of size, and have them shipped right to my door.

That was pretty dang easy. And, sadly enough, quite costly. My three brand new boxer briefs cost me $21.00 plus $5.05 more for shipping and handling. "Ouch," I thought.

But then I checked it out.

Lowest of the low cost (so we are told) walmart.com had a four pack of boxer briefs for $15.34 plus $3.94 for shipping and handling.

Target was even worse, charging 9.99 for EACH boxer brief (less for Euro-trunks, but that's not something I'm prepared to wear), and offering me free shipping if I bought three. Thanks for the free shipping on my $30.00 of cotton!

Ok, let's do the math here.

Target's boxer briefs were obviously $9.99 each (provided you buy three, which is what I wanted).
Wal-Mart, including shipping and handling, came out to $4.82 per boxer brief for a pack of four.
My three boxer briefs from Justice Clothing/Lifewear (complete with a seriously so much better horizontal fly) cost me $8.68 cents each. If I had ordered more packs the price would have dropped even further.

So here's what we've got:
Target: $10.00, nice store aesthetics and clever advertisements, clear supporter of sweatshop labor, and marginal to bad employee pay.

Wal-Mart: $4.82, terrible shopping experience, proven price gouging, terrible employee pay and benefits, clear supporter of sweatshop labor.

Justice Clothing: $8.68, easy to use site, good pay and benefits for their employees, committed to fighting sweatshop labor.


To me the choice is very clear.

Even better than avoiding sweatshop labor was finding a company that I feel good about supporting. Justice Clothing, if you take a look, has a whole range of products at pretty affordable prices, especially when you consider that they are actually compensating their employees for their labor. How novel of them.

This whole exercise makes me that much more committed to using my money as a force for positive change, instead of just using it, as I say, "to do no harm." What I mean is that rather than trying to avoid making purchasing and lifestyle choices at places where I think that other people are paying a high cost for the price I receive, I intend to seek out purchases that help people to empower themselves. My experience with boxer briefs shows just how easy, simple, and cost-competitive that can be.

Next time you need something (anything), try looking for it on google first. Put in your ideal product (an environmentally friendly stove cleaner, for example) and see what happens. I think you'll be surprised. Even if it costs you a little bit more money, I think it's worth it. Try it, and let me know what you find.


*As another aside, most retail companies provide pictures of their products, on real people, when you shop online (see link to Justice Clothing). Needless to say, it proved to be somewhat awkward trying to buy boxer briefs at the office.*

As much as I love my bicycle, I wish I had a biodiesel truck.

Here´s a really cool little interview between Aaron Weiss of mewithoutYou and Jeremy Enigk, formerly of Sunny Day Real Estate. They talk a lot about faith, music, and yes...biodiesel. Enjoy.

http://www.synthesis.net/music/story.php?type=story&id=4961