I don't like Stephen King. I have known this for a while but it was brought back to the forefront last week when I attempted (and failed) to read Under the Dome, King's latest best seller. To be clear, I have nothing against him personally and I actually think he is a very talented writer--I often quote his essays on writing in my classes. And I don't begrudge anyone who enjoys reading his books. No, I just don't care for his stories themselves ... or, perhaps more accurately, I don't care for his worldview. No matter your opinion of King's stories, it is hard to argue that he has a pretty dismal worldview. If King is to be trusted:

• Pretty much everyone is twisted and psychotic in one way or another--even the good guys.
• People in desperate situations are more likely to turn on each other than try to resolve the situation.
• Most people are more infatuated with power than doing good--especially people who are in positions to do good.
• People who aren't infatuated with power are not only rare, they are also beat down and isolated by those who are.
• Religious people are fanatics and extremists who, deep down, believe in blood sacrifice first and doing good last.
• The government is both inept and always knee-deep in dark, horrifying conspiracies.
• Psychos are common.
• Maine is mostly populated with said psychos.
• Good guys are almost always former covert ops or ex-military.
• Anyone named "Randall" is big trouble.

All in all, King's world is a pretty depressing place. Take Under the Dome, King's most recent novel. It is about a town that mysteriously becomes trapped in some kind of transparent energy field. Almost immediately, the psychos in the town gain power and people start to turn on each other. Things just go from bad to worse and then keep getting worse. It was so depressing I only made it about a third of the way (I have never made it past the half-way mark of any King book, despite my many attempts). And that is pretty much how I feel about King's stories. The thing is, I do enjoy horror stories. In the past few years, I have become a pretty big Dean Koontz fan and I have read several of his books. But, despite using similar material in their stories and having the same first initial in their last name (a coincidence I always found a bit amusing), there is a world of difference between Koontz and King novels. For one thing, while psychos do exist in almost every Koontz book, they are the exception, not the rule. Most people in Koontz' stories are good, decent folks who are just trying to do what is right. And while Koontz' good guys share some similarities with King's (many of them also seem to have some sort of military background and they often harbor dark secrets in their past), they are people who you can trust and rally behind. And, perhaps most important, the good guys overcome incredible odds to become the good guys that they are. For example, I recently finished reading the first three of Koontz' Odd Thomas series. The books, which I highly recommend, are about Odd Thomas, a young man who can see (but not talk to) ghosts. The ghosts come to him seeking help to resolve whatever wrong is keeping them on the terrestrial plane. Odd (who really is named "Odd") helps them. There isn't anything in it for Odd. In fact, there are many reasons why he shouldn't help people, the main ones being that it often gets him in trouble and brings pain (or death) to those he loves. But he does it anyway, just because it is right. Like most of Koontz' characters, Odd comes from a dark past. His mother is fairly psychotic and his father is a jerk beyond words. Odd had a very unhappy childhood and ran away at a young age to fend for himself. Add to that the dark, sinister things the ghosts show him, and Odd could--and probably should--be a maladjusted freak who sees nothing but darkness and evil. But he isn't. Instead, Odd sees the world as one filled with light and beauty. Even at his darkest he finds moments of happiness and tranquility.  And rather than shun humanity, he embraces it and finds nothing but good (minus the occasional psycho who crosses his path). The people that surround him are an eclectic bunch with dark histories of their own, but they have almost universally overcome those pasts to become truly good people: Little Ozzie has overcome weight issues and the judgement of the world to become a famous novelist. Stormy, Odd's one true love, has overcome abuse to become a happy, well-adjusted person. Brother Knuckles overcame his life as a mob hitman to become a monk. And on and on. And that is one of the things I like the most about Koontz' stories: the characters overcome the world, no matter how bad and horrifying. In King's world, things just seem to remain dark and horrifying, even after the good guys have "won." I think the thing that attracts me to Koontz' stories over King's is that Koontz' vision of the world is much closer to my own. I believe that most people, regardless of their religious or political ideology, are good, decent people who are just trying to do what they think is right. I believe that there are good guys out there who do what is right just because it is right, no matter the cost to them. And while I do believe that psychos and monsters do exist, I believe that they are the exception. And, most important, I believe that no matter the darkness people have experienced in their lives, they can always overcome it. I didn't always believe this. As a kid I was very paranoid about the world--especially the world outside of St. Johns. I saw it as a terrible and terrifying place filled with evil just waiting to devour the few righteous ones. I blame this on two things: Hollywood and the isolation of St. Johns. Because the town is far removed from the "real world," my opinions of what that world was like largely came from movies and television. Is it any wonder that I thought everything beyond St. Johns' borders was nearing the Ninth Circle of Hell? But all of that changed when I served a two-week religious mission to Phoenix the summer before my senior year of high school. On the mission, I was required to meet and talk with several people--all of them strangers. Before leaving, I was terrified. I secretly worried that one of them would kill or, at the very least, hurt me. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that not one of those strangers was a psycho and that, almost without exception, they were good, decent people just trying to do what they felt was right Later, my father asked me what I learned from the mission. After a brief moment of reflection, I told him simply: "That most people are good, honest people." I believe that to this day. So, to return to my original point, I don't like Stephen King. I believe in humanity more than that and, no matter how bad things are, I am optimistic for the future of mankind. In the words of William Faulkner:

I decline to accept the end of man. ... I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance.

So I'll avoid Stephen King from now on because I don't believe in his world. His world is filled with darkness. And while the world I believe in may often be dark and gloomy, there is always color and light and joy. And rather than be filled with egotistical maniacs and psychos, it is filled with good, decent people who overcome incredible odds to do what is right, for no other reason than that it is right. Naive? Perhaps. But which world would you rather live in?

Most people who know me know that I served a religious mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints shortly after I turned 19. For the better part of 2 years, I lived with and served the people of southern Chile. My mission was the greatest experience of my pre-Jenna life. It was amazing to live with and serve those wonderful people and I often miss it. Unfortunately, I don't miss their food much. Most of it was bland and the rest of it was ... well, let's just say it wasn't my favorite. Those who saw me not long after I returned home thought I had caught a parasite or something because I'd lost so much weight (I have since gained it back with interest--maybe I should go back to Chile). There were a few exceptions to my not liking the food. For example, I love completos (Chilean hot dogs) and empanadas. And, of course, there was all the food I ate while living in the house with the professional chef. The other day, I prepared my family one of the dishes I had in that home: Stuffed Acorn Squash. I've made it before (all from memory--mostly of how it tasted rather than how it was cooked), but this time it was better than ever before. So, before I forget what I did, here is the recipe:

Stuffed Acorn Squash

Makes 8 servings (1/2 squash = 1 serving)

Ingredients*

• 4 large acorn squash
• 4 cups cooked rice
• 1 pound hamburger
• 1 can sliced mushrooms (or 1/2 package fresh sliced mushrooms if you prefer)
• 1/2 medium onion (diced)
• 1 large can cream of mushroom soup (or 2 small ones)
• 1/4 cup shredded cheese (we used cheddar, but you could probably use anything. My guess is that Monterey Jack would be awesome)
• 1 tbsp Worcestershire Sauce
• 1 tbsp Montreal Steak Seasoning (this stuff is a must in any kitchen)

* All measurements are estimates. I really don't measure things when I cook.

Instructions

1. Preheat the over to 400°.
2. Cut the squash in half, lengthwise (tip to stem).
3. Remove the seeds and the stringy stuff from the squash.
4. Put the squash on a large bar pan with the yellow side up. Add about 1/4 of an inch of water to the bottom of the pan (this will help make the squash nice and tender).
5. Put the squash in the oven and cook for 30 minutes.
6. While the squash is cooking, add the hamburger, diced onion, mushrooms, Montreal Steak Seasoning, and Worcestershire sauce to a pan and mix over high heat until hamburger is browned.
7. Add the rice and cream of mushroom soup to the hamburger mixture.
8. Cook the hamburger-rice mixture on medium-low for several minutes, stirring occasionally, until it is thoroughly warmed through.
9. Let the hamburger-rice mixture warm until the squash is cooked.
10. Remove the squash from the oven.
11. Fill each squash with some of the hamburger-rice mixture (it should create a small dome over the top of the squash).
12. Sprinkle the top of each squash with about a tbsp of cheese.
13. Return the squash to the oven (make sure that there is still water in the pan) for 30 minutes.
14. Serve and enjoy.

We served it with a Chilean salad made from 1/4 cabbage (shredded), a little vegetable oil (about 1 tbsp), a lot of lemon juice (about 3 tbsps--add to flavor), and a little salt. It was very good. Believe it or not, my kids, who aren't very fond of squash, loved the meal and most had seconds. So it looks like we have a hit on our hands. It makes a great Fall dinner. Enjoy!

I am worried about this country.

I've read several other blogs lately that started with the exact same line but meant it in a completely different way. I guess that just goes to show how we all love this country but in different ways.

And that, quite frankly, is what is worrying me.

I don't have any problem with everyone loving this country in their own way. In fact, just the opposite. What concerns me is the tendency to believe that one version of America is the "true" one.

This came up in the presidential campaign, when Sarah Palin called small town America the "real America," thereby insulting the majority of the population that lives in cities. But I ask, in all seriousness, what makes one version of America more "real" or "true" than another?

Back in the '70s, during the Watergate scandal, Captain America had a crisis of faith. In a story that intentionally paralleled the Watergate scandal, he discovered that a high-ranking government official (assumed to be the president but never stated outright) had conspired with the Secret Empire (an organization bent on world domination, in case you couldn't guess), to put the US completely under his control. When the Cap finally caught up with him and tried to stop him, the government official (code named "Number One"), committed suicide in order to escape prosecution.

Steve Rogers - the Cap - was so distraught over the plot that he lost his faith in the country and gave up being Captain America and eventually became "Nomad: Man Without a Country" (he later returned to being Cap after realizing that the nation needed a unifying symbol).

In one issue, his friends attempt, one-by-one, to convince him to change his mine. They argued that the country needs Captain America (much in the same way that Grant Morrison argued that the world needs Batman in Comic Con last year). At the end, he finally explained his rationale.

He explained that, when he became Captain America during World War II, the country was united against a common foe. Since he was reawakened in the '60s (he had been frozen in a block of ice at the end of WWII and was rediscovered by the Avengers years later), he had always felt like a man out of time. So much had changed. People had grown different and apart. The unity that had existed when he was first created no longer existed. Now everyone was doing their own thing.

In one of the most powerful scenes of the issue he stands with a bewildered look on his face as images of several "Americas" float over him: black, white, construction worker, business man, hippie, men, women, young, old, etc. Today you could probably add Christian, Muslim, Atheist, liberal, conservative, Hispanic, gay, straight, and too many others to name. In the panel, the Cap asks, "When people look at me, which America do they see?"

Here's what concerns me: everyone today thinks that their version of America is the "true" or the "real" one without stopping to consider that other points of view are just as valid. What makes small town America "real" and big city America - where something like 70% of the population lives - less real?

There is a predominant myth in American history, called the Edenic (as in "The Garden of Eden") Myth. It is the tendency to view the frontier - the wild - as real and natural while the city is false and manufactured. In this myth (please remember that in Academia, "myth" means "metaphoric story," not "lie"), nature is closer to God, which gives it the "realnesss." It is seen as a place of peace and tranquility. The Edenic Myth fueled the naturalist movement (Thoreau on Walden's Pond, for example) as well as to the race for the west, where people hoped to find their own Eden, at first on the plains and then even further.

The Edenic Myth has also been credited for the invention of the superhero (see The Myth of the American Superhero by Lawrence and Jewett). When the American "Eden" was threatened by either internal or external forces, it required a hero outside the law to come in and save them before fading into obscurity (incidentally, the American superhero myth is based upon the Messianic tradition from the Bible - Moses and Jesus being the two biggest examples).

Whether we are conscious of it or not, the Edenic Myth comes through in our speech. For example, we refer to farmers and laborers (again, those in rural America), as "the salt of the earth," hearkening back to the biblical passage: "Ye are the salt of the earth; but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted?" (Matt 5:13). In other words, calling someone "the salt of the earth" is really saying that they are true believers/followers of God - they are the "good" people. The implication is that anyone who does not meet that qualification (i.e. those that live in cities) are not worthy or that they are "evil" people. The comparison seems to be "salt of the earth" vs. "scum of the earth" with little in between.

Have you ever heard a lawyer or car salesman called "the salt of the earth?" Why can't they give as much savor as a field hand? And why can't a farm be the "scum of the earth?"

I am not trying to make this just about rural versus urban, though that is one of the biggest and most obvious examples. I have lived in both the city and the small town out in the middle of nowhere and found there to be equal measures of positive and negative in both (I think that both have more positive than negative). But beyond the urban vs. rural debate, there are tons of versions of this country and none of them seem to be able to find any merit to other versions: conservative vs. liberals, for example. Which one is the "true" America? Which one is "real?" What makes the difference? Having studied both sides of the political divide, I can easily see both positive and negative in both liberal and conservative ideologies.

Note that I said "positive and negative," not "good and bad" or "good and evil." Too often we cast things in starkly moral terms. I have heard commentators from both sides of the political divide use the word "evil" to describe the other side. But is the other political side really evil? Really? Evil is a big word. It conjures to mind comic book and movie villains like Lex Luthor and Darth Vader. So we're saying that [insert opposing political party] are just as bad as Lex Luthor and Darth Vader who mercilessly kill millions? Really?

In the now-cancelled (and, for me, sorely missed) TV show, Joan of Arcadia, which was about a girl that routinely talks with God, Joan is instructed by God to ask a particular boy to a dance. The boy is a bully with a lot of hate and anger built up inside him. He is not a nice guy - definitely not "the salt of the earth" - and frequently lashes out at others, both verbally and physically. Joan protests to God that the boy is "evil," which leads to the following conversation:

GOD: Evil is not a word to use lightly. It's only the darkest end of a broad spectrum.

JOAN: You mean like light?

GOD: Exactly like light. Nobody is born in total darkness. Most of you live on the gray end of the spectrum, a lie here and there, jealousy, wrath. But you only get to absolute evil by doing one thing after another 'till, eventually, you're transformed.

JOAN: Like . . . into a monster?

GOD: A monster is a creature with no conscience. They're extremely rare, but they do exist.

JOAN: Have you watched the news? I'm not sure they're so rare.

GOD: Almost everyone has light somewhere. And that light is always worth fighting for."

I think the same is true about the versions of America. They all have merit but you have to look for it. Most of the time, you don't have to look very hard. But that merit - that light - is always worth fighting for. Even if it comes from the opposing side.

I am not saying there isn't bad or evil out there. And I'm not saying that some points of view don't have more merit than others. What worries me is the absolutism. "I'm right, you're wrong. I'm good, you're evil."

We are dividing. We are turning into individual tribes with separate ideals, separate leaders, and separate destinies. We no longer seem to have the ability to look for the good in others. All we see is the bad. And it is that division that worries me. After all, to quote another scripture, "Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand" (Matt 12:25).

Last week, in church, I gave a lesson on living in harmony with others. I asked if anyone knew what harmony was. There was a long pause before someone finally said, "singing together." And, yes, that is true, at least to a point. Harmony is singing together, but it doesn't mean singing the same thing. In fact, "harmony" means singing many different things at once. Dictionary.com defines it as "the simultaneous combination of tones, esp. when blended into chords pleasing to the ear." When a choir sings in harmony, they are all singing different notes but they blend together in a way that is far more beautiful than any single note could ever be on its own.

The same can apply to life. Just because we are singing different notes doesn't mean that others are singing wrong. And just because they are singing something different it doesn't make us wrong either. If we can come together, with all our distinctness and diversity still intact, it can be very right and very beautiful.

To me, it is in that harmony, that we find the "real" and "true" America.