Another light of my life, my son.


This will be very brief, but I just can't help myself. My son, Boston McNally Rubert, was born last Friday and I've decided to build him his own blog so everyone has access to pictures and stuff. Check it out. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go have some fun with my son.



My Search for Meaning

Believe it or not, I've had a harder time deciding what to write about this time than what template to use for this old rag. While I gave serious consideration to writing about something political since I finished up my Political Science class this week, I think I'll stew about it a while longer. A few weeks ago Kjerstin and I were asked to give talks in Sacrament Meeting. Kjerstin's, admittedly, was much better as she talked on being provident providers for our families. I decided, having just finished "Man's Search for Meaning" a few weeks earlier, to talk on adversity. I thought I'd share the gist of the message since it hit my soul with the same magnitude as my body hitting the water during a cataclysmic cannonball.

No one is a stranger to adversity. If you haven't had trials in your life... scratch that... if you haven't had major life-altering tragedies in your life, you may or may not want to check your pulse... or maybe just your frequency of venturing out into the world. The frigid hand of tribulation grasps our lives just as assuredly as death. But this is far from any reason to despair, I've discovered. Dr. Viktor Frankl wrote his most famous work, "Man's Search for Meaning" to introduce the world to his unique therapeutic approach, logotherapy. In a nutshell, he believed that it is through assigning meaning to your life that real mental health can be found. Even finding meaning in our sufferings is an essential extension of this. And a handful of humans throughout history can understand the kind of suffering that Dr. Frankl experienced.

An Austrian Jew, Dr. Frankl endured the Holocaust in its entirety. He had the chance to leave before the occupation, but felt that he couldn't abandon his parents. Subsequently, he spent time in Auschwitz, Dachau, and other scenes of Nazi atrocities. In direct contrast to many works of Holocaust literature, the major message of the book was the appreciation for suffering. Dr. Frankl learned, the hardest way, what suffering offers the human organism. I would paraphrase this but I'd butcher its poetry. In Dr. Frankl's words:

"Life in a concentration camp tore open the human soul and exposed its depths. Is it surprising that in those depths we again found only human qualities which in their very nature were a mixture of good and evil? The rift dividing good from evil, which goes through all human beings, reaches into the lowest depths and becomes apparent even on the bottom of the abyss which is laid open by the concentration camp."

Suffering, then, has a role as The Great Revealer. It is a tool by which we all may look deep down into ourselves, past all the masks and pretensions that we put up for the world, to see what we really are. As hard as it is to admit, I haven't always handled stressful situations with much grace or honor. I got to see into my own soul in those moments and found some of those not-so-nice qualities we all get a little ashamed of. But is this the reason? Embarrassment? Nope:

"Here lies the chance for a man either to make use of or to forgo the opportunities of attaining the moral values that a difficult situation may afford him. And this decides whether he is worthy of his sufferings or not."

The pattern seems simple. You acknowledge that the universe is hurling its worst at you. You take silent mental note of the way in which you respond, remembering that this is a glimmer of who you really are. You bolster yourself up and make the necessary adjustments, trying to reconcile who you are with whom you want to be. You slowly, trial by trial, become the strong, resolute person you were pretending to be before. Above all, you endure gracefully and honorably, because to simply endure something means only to bite your lip and bide your time.

I apologize, sincerely, for the length of this post. But it is something I feel is so important and is a recipe for real happiness. Not very often does a movie quote sum up a desired attitude for me, but this one line from the most recent version of The Count of Monte Cristo epitomizes the same outlook on life as succinctly as works like Invictus. The Count says in a toast "You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout... 'Do your worst, for I will do mine!'"

May we all risk looking a little nuts and show such strength in the very faces of pain, turmoil, and misery. May we live worthy of our suffering, and be happy, not in spite of, but because of it.

What a Blunderful World



Mohandas Gandhi listed 7 blunders that ensure humanity's descent into violence and chaos:
  • Wealth without Work
  • Pleasure without Conscience
  • Knowledge without Character
  • Commerce without Morality
  • Science without Humanity
  • Politics without Principle
  • Worship without Sacrifice

His grandson, Arun, added an 8th blunder:

  • Rights without Responsibility

Partisanship, please!

Well it's been a very busy time in our little wigwam. My little clone is growing fast now and all the preparations for his arrival have us in a mad dash to get things done. I've wondered, these past few weeks, what I would write about next since I've recently stopped throwing things at the T.V. The people on it haven't stopped being total voids but I've stopped caring so much. This baby is making me very Zen. I did read a bunch of comments the other day under a news article that reminded me of something I've wanted to write for awhile.

The article (I don't remember what it was about) involved a lot of partisan language, and the fury of anonymous commenters was absolutely stunning to watch. It seems to me that the general feeling is one of anti-partisanship. People are sick of speaking in terms of parties or having to identify with one or the other. At one time it annoyed me also, I must admit, but now I find it sad that the real crux of camp politics is lost and not appreciated.


"Liberty is to faction what air is to fire, an ailment without which it instantly expires." wrote James Madison in the Federalist No. 10. He understood that the nature of man tended toward factions (parties in his day) and that the only way to get rid of them was to a.) give "to every citizen the same opinions, the same passions, and same interests" or to b.) destroy "the liberty which is essential to its existence". Madison knew, as many of the other Founding Fathers, that the bickering and pettiness that comes with parties is one of the many prices we pay for freedom.

While it's not always easy, I have to consciously remind myself that the stupid and illogical opinions that people express are actually evidence that this country is, indeed, the freest country in the world.

A Dash of Sunshine

Goethe said, "It is easier to perceive error than to find truth, for the former lies on the surface and is easily seen, while the latter lies in the depth where few are willing to search for it." I've thought a lot about this idea the last month or two. It's not exactly a secret that bad things are happening and worse things are afoot. In ways too numerous to count the world seems to be falling apart at the seams. Humanity seems to want to unite only in its effort to divide. The news reports both atrocities or absurdities, occasionally inciting both, as well. It has become almost impossible to remain optimistic about, well, anything.

But I accept the challenge. Light and dark, black and white, good and bad. All things, relatively speaking, are defined by their opposite. Embracing the ills of life and accepting their necessity in contrasting and highlighting all that is good gives one a sense of balance. But for all the ills in the world, we are all still well. In spite of our faults and flaws that may annoy others we are naturally good creatures. Call it societal survivalism or inborn insecurity we endure each others' personality deficiencies in exchange for the warm blanket of mutually assured construction. We keep it together even when all we want to do is destroy. We do it for various reasons but they all are rooted in our desire to be good people. We do it for the love of our families. We do it for the ideal of improving humanity as a whole. We do it because, at our core, we are good.

That's all I have to say about that.

Progressively Unimpressive

This is completely out of character for me, this business of posting a second entry within the same lunar cycle. I have had something very heavy on my mind. In the wake of the passing of one of the most irresponsible pieces of legislation (the "American Recovery and Reinvestment" bill) I have given serious thought to the liberal agenda. It has, until now, been light and laughable to me, foolish and harmless like "reality t.v.". But now that their policies are going to directly affect my family and myself I will not be silently subjugated.

Liberals are selfish. This is the conclusion I've come to. "How can you say that when all they want to do is help people?" one might ask. Quite easily, actually, I might answer. I have noticed that most of the liberals in high-profile positions seem to be most popular with the very same people who believe that they are: 1) in a dire situation, 2) that situation is a direct result of some sinister plot to ruin people, and 3) it is someone else's duty to pull them up from the mire. In other words, liberals are loved by victims because victims believe liberals will save them. And liberals are more than happy to accomodate. This, of course, wins them the hearts and affections of the masses. Popularity. Adulation. Power. All understandable desires. All unacceptable motivations in the political arena. The most dangerous part of their ideology is the "It Takes a Village" attitude which thrusts the welfare of all members of society on all the other members of society. Forcing the care of an individual on another individual is at the very heart of socialism, and socialism cannot facilitate freedom.

I do have faith in our democracy. In spite of what the simians on the comment pages think, no one man/woman controls this country (yes I'm talking to the geniuses who think that Bush ran this country into the ground; our country doesn't work that way). I hate the Obamapelosireidasaurus and everything they are trying to do, but they do not reign. The people are sovereign in this land. We hold the power.

If this doesn't look sinister, I don't know what does.
You can almost see the cracks forming from this attempt at "sincere."

Voice to Men

There's simply no excuse. I apologize to all my adoring fans out there for letting so much time go by. But in true Hollwood Elite form I will probably just keep being an astronomical tool and then at the first sign of backlash issue an "official apology" to be read by my agent. All sarcasm aside, Mr. Hanks climbed three or four steps on the stairway to the Douche Bag Floor with his vilification of Mormons last week. I see little difference between movie stars and clowns these days. Both are in the entertainment industry and are the centers of attention, but neither are very reliable sources of common sense. I wonder how many actors can squeeze into a Prius.

But this all detracts from the main event.... Behold, my son!


My beautiful wife, Kjerstin, and I don't yet have a name for him, but he is alive and he is healthy and that's all that matters right now. Ever since the technician gelled up Kjerstin's tummy and we finally saw the plumbing of my little clone I've given even more serious thought to the nature of masculinity. It is the parents' duty to mold and influence their children by love and example. It naturally follows that a father's calling is to show his sons how to be men. But what manner of men?

I call to the stand those responsible for helping me become, what I consider, a half-way decent man. First, naturally, is my father. My father has always worked his fingers to the bone to provide for his family. The picture of unconditional love, he never, and I mean never, let me think that any choice I could ever make would change his love for me. He, along with a couple of my grandfathers, showed me by example what it means to live with integrity and honor. I am able to see these traits in large part because I have been blessed, ever since I was young, with truly great friends. Jeremy, Nate, and Eric have shown me what it means to be a good friend. But more importantly, they have all, in their own unique ways, shown me what real men ought to be. Strength, integrity, loyalty, compassion, courage, dedication, honoring the sanctity of women, etc., etc. I could literally go on and on. But I don't have to because they know what they are to me, and what they helped save me from.

Because of all these influences I am able to see the virtues of manliness. I find it ironic that two of my favorite literative works concerning manly virtues are poems. One is "If-" by Rudyard Kipling and the other is "Invictus" by W.E. Henley. Supposedly they are both considered cliche in the U.K., but all that says to me is that, not only am I right about mainstream manliness taking a terrifying plunge, I'm probably right about it starting in Europe.

Men of the world Unite!


The one with the beard is probably me... with my genes it could have gone either way.