Disposable Words

I like words. I've written or typed quite a few of them in my time. I relish the exercise of formulating a thought and laboring to fashion it in a manner that makes a concept accessible to others. I wrote poetry when I was young, Bible studies in my 20's, and a wide variety of technical and policy documentation throughout my career. I started blogging out of an innate need to write, for myself and anyone willing to suffer as my audience.

Creative writing was never really a focus during my student years. While I believe I am suitably proficient in the use of language and vocabulary, I find that the distinction between words as commodity and words as art to be a difficult chasm to span. It is for this reason and more that I find articles on the topic of the modern use of the English language so interesting. The digital age has greatly commoditized the written word, making it more and more difficult to identify true art in the preponderance of prose. In a fascinating article called "The Pros and Cons of Cyber-English," David Gelernter takes a look at some of the effects the digital age has had on the vernacular. A few excerpts:

Social networking, texting, email and digital messages have borrowed the keys to the English language and are joy-riding all over the landscape, smashing body panels and junking up the fancy interior. Many thoughtful people are worried. But it's good for English to get shaken up occasionally—by people who are using it in new ways, not by academics ordaining from on high.

In the 1980s and '90s, email saved the personal letter from extinction by moving it online. Email-writers have leaned heavily for decades on abbreviations, which suit this quick-and-casual medium. Thus the celebrated "lol," "laughing out loud," and many others.

…

When you are forced to compress your message into fewer words, each word works harder, carries more meaning on its shoulders and, accordingly, becomes more important and interesting. Digital English is no good for poetry or novels, but on balance it's refreshing.

Smiley-faces are another story. Painfully cute hieroglyphics (happy-face, sad-face) have littered email for years; they are the empty beer bottles in the literary flower garden. Anything that can't be pronounced stops the verbal music, makes the reader stumble and marks the writer as a nitwit. These pictograms are for sloppy and lazy writers: E.B. White never felt the need to draw little faces in the margin to make his meaning clear.

I confess that I have, at times, fallen into the habit of using emoticons (smiley-faces, etc.) as shorthand to convey everything from genuine emotion to simple acknowledgement in response to a message I've received. But in my regular writing, never. On to weightier matters (emphasis mine):

Digital words are disposable words. Partly the problem is technological; mostly it is psychological. Ink and paper (or parchment or papyrus) have functioned brilliantly as a presentation and storage medium for a couple of thousand years. It's easy to read a 300-year-old book or a 2,000-year-old scroll. Can you imagine booting a 2,000-year-old computer? For a technologist, "permanent" means the next 20 minutes.

Digital words are easy to write, change, send, forget. They lack the dignity of the printed word. It's hard to throw out a book, even if you don't need or want it; it's easy to delete a million bits without thinking twice. Young writers know that blogs are cutting-edge but want to see their pieces, nonetheless, in real ink on real paper in real books, newspapers or magazines.

Digital words seem cheap because they are, and they grow cheaper by the day. Consider the withering hailstorm of mail, text, social net and blog posts that assaults you the moment you go online. It's become impossible for many a normal, solid citizen to answer his email promptly. But young people seem increasingly apt to ignore uninteresting messages on purpose. If the message is important it will be resent, and if it isn't, who cares anyway? So the value of digital words sinks even lower.

Gelernter's piece is worth a read, so I'll resist citing even more of the article. The above section strikes me particularly keen. So much of our lives are wrapped up in digital mediums, more so than many of us might care to admit. After the tornado, we fretted about retrieving printed documents and papers, out of concern for identity theft and security. Books upon books were pulled out of the rubble, because they were tangible assets that could be retrieved, and perhaps more than a few no longer available in print. Yet we were also concerned about computers, tablets, PDAs and random hard drives, because of the immeasurable volume of information stored on such devices. Three weeks later, we are still not sure whether that data is recoverable, although in due time we will find out.

I consider myself fortunate that I have so much of my writing stored off in different places, including online. But in the blink of an eye, every word, every thought I have committed to digital media could disappear forever. It is almost enough to make me consider committing all of my writing to some sort of printed medium, if only as a safeguard. Yet as events have shown, there is no guarantee on even the printed word.

The truth be told, words have always been disposable. The printed word is no more permanent than the digital word - the only difference is the shelf-life and the nature of the vulnerability. A writer wishes to be read; no more, no less. Words are abundant, and therefore are commodities that have value only in the sense that when put together, they convey something of the author. Some words permeate the culture and give the appearance of immortality. But in the end, all words are temporary, no matter how masterful the formulation, no matter how wide the distribution. So perhaps the chasm between commodity and art is a wasted endeavor as a pursuit of its own aim. I will never become "known" for the things I write, but those who read what I write, they will come to know me.

More Videos - And An Empty Feeling

It is amazing what can be accomplished in a day and a half with the right equipment. I went by the property late this afternoon to find all the major debris completely gone, with only a few small piles and scattered remains littering the lot. Out there on this windy, gray afternoon, I just felt empty.

Below are a few more videos I took with my phone. I apologize if they are a bit shaky at times. I looked along the lines of the footers. I'll have to get an engineer out there to inspect the site. Right now, I'd say there's a fair chance that the slabs will have to be dug up and re-poured. I'm no expert in such matters, though.

Heavy Equipment

Today, the heavy equipment arrived on the property, working the trees on the back line. After a brief consultation, they began pulling down the remaining structure of the house, to include what was left of the kitchen and laundry room and the bonus room. Below is a 3 minute video I captured with my phone showing some of the work in action.

It was good to see the progress, but beyond that, I'm not sure how I felt. The sooner the debris is gone, the better. But after that, the harder decision awaits. All in good time, I suppose.

Space Digest

I needed a little diversion this morning, as we prepare to dive knee deep into the remains of our belongings currently held in storage. Not too long ago, I came across a site called Universe Today. UT aggregates space and astronomy news, among other features. A couple of neat items caught my attention this morning:

First, there are compiled videos of the Aurora Borealis captured from the view of the International Space Station. Here's a sample:


As have many others, I've caught myself gazing at the western sky in the evenings, watching the conjunction of Jupiter and Venus as they dance in the heavens. Their presence and their bright, steady reflection of the sun's light is mesmerizing, and stands out against the normal view of the night sky. Amateurs have captured the conjunction on camera, and the UT post has several to view. I like many of them, but below I think is my favorite (image credit Tavi Greiner):

Back to the real world, I suppose. But I admit, it's nice to blog about something else for a change.

Tuesday's Blurb

It is Tuesday, and spring is fully underway. There is a hint of pollen in the air as the leaves are beginning to unfurl on the trees. The temperature is warm, and the gnats are everywhere.

And no matter how many times I look, or how often I try to shake the image, my house remains a forlorn pile of rubble. I'm in the midst of negotiations with a debris removal company, which I hope to conclude today. Hopefully soon, we'll be able to get the property cleared enough to stop being quite the safety hazard it is now.

We have secured a new residence, and furnished it with rental furniture. My parents left this morning, and perhaps tonight we will stay at the new place for the first time. It'll take several more days to "set up house", but we are moving forward.

Insurance did come through, and although it was far from how I envisioned it, we have paid off the mortgage. In the coming months, we will have to decide whether to rebuild on the lot. Right now, it is just a little too soon to see clearly. Whatever we do, it won't come without first spending much time as a family in prayer. We have been surrounded by such grace these past 11 days, there is no way we're taking a step without prayer.

I have an idea for a longer blog post in the days ahead, but it probably won't be ready until the weekend. Other priorities must come first. In the meantime, suffice it to say, we are okay. And we will be okay.

The days are hard, but we are not alone. Thanks be to God.

Storm Aftermath - Quick Update

I thought I would take a quick moment to update on where we stand, and how we are doing. While blogging is certainly at the low end of the priorities right now, I am aware that several folks have been following the events and our circumstances.

First, allow me again to express my thanks to all for the prayers and support. We finally finished our salvage efforts yesterday. While I cannot rule out doing a little more picking around as the debris removal crews come through, for all intents and purposes, we're done looking for stuff. Our focus will now turn towards some key actions: 1) Sorting through what we have recovered, to determine what is really salvagable, and what needs to be given up; 2) finding a new residence; and 3) lots of phone calls to, well, everyone, in particular to service providers providing us services we are no longer able to use.

Today is March 7, which means this is the fifth day. It is all very surreal, and I would imagine that as the pace of activity changes, the adrenaline surge that has kept us going will fade. We are understandably exhausted, but I cannot help but to notice how tightly we are being held in the embrace of grace. As the old hymn says, "It is Well, With My Soul."

And another comes to mind: "On the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand, all other ground is sinking sand."

We are well, our family is here, and God is with us all.

Peace to you and yours, with all my heart.

When the Lights Can't Come Back On

Last year, I wrote a post here reflecting on the experience of the aftermath of a massive tornado outbreak across the south. In that storm, we narrowly avoided tornadoes to our north and to our south as close as a half mile, and as far as two miles. I shared with you about the experience of community, and my reflection of what happened When the Lights Came Back On.

On March 2, 2012, we experienced another set of devastating storms through our part of the world. This time, for me, the lights will not come back on. On Friday, our home was completely destroyed.

Nobody was home when the EF-2 twister tore through my neighborhood, leaving my home in a pile of rubble. To say that we are still in shock is an understatement. Our immediate needs have been addressed, and we are working to salvage what we can. We have already retrieved more than I thought imaginable.

In April 2011, we did what we could to reach out to neighbors, family and strangers to support relief efforts. In March 2012, I was the recipient of the generosity of my many families: immediate, church, and work. Yesterday, 60-some people descended on our property and helped us with the first phase of salvage. Boy Scouts, members of a high school football team, two church groups, FEMA, Red Cross, and numerous volunteers from a local college tackled the mess. We have been flooded with all kinds of support, kindness and care. Last year, I considered it a tremendous blessing to serve. This weekend, I consider it a tremendous blessing to allow others to share their gifts of service for me. I am overwhelmed.

With respect to my house, the lights cannot come back on. But in the eyes and hearts of those around us these past couple of days, the light is shining. We are in good spirits, all things considered. The Lord is our rock, and our refuge, in this most certain time of trouble. I will praise Him in good times, and bad, and despite our loss, we have been given much.

As I hold my family close, I cannot help but think: I have been, and remain, very, very blessed.

For those of you interested, here is a link to the interview I gave for a local TV station.