Questions for "The Social Network", or Billionaires Are People Too

As a film, few have anything bad to say about "The Social Network." Critics and audiences love it (HT Ross Douthat for the link). The actors, writers and director are excellent, I read. I haven't seen the film yet, and I would honestly like to, more to be a part of the conversation than to think that I would enjoy it. (I've seen much less films in the theaters since my daughter was born, so I may have to wait until it hits my local library)

The haunting previews made me wonder if the film's marketers thought I would be attracted to a take-down of Facebook's wildly successful founder, Mark Zuckerberg (though I love the boy's choir version of "Creep" by Radiohead). He comes across as part Shakespearian tyrant and part insolent teenager with enough computer geek thrown in to remind you of what he does. This probably does not paint the whole picture, of course. News services are doing their due diligence about "The Social Network's" accuracy. I've read mixed reports as to whether or not Zuckerberg himself will see (or has seen) the film, but I'd understand it if he didn't. Imagine if those who disliked or did not understand you made a film inflating the worst parts of your character? Would it help that the critics were salivating?

Given the city I live in, perhaps this bothers me too much. Politics and everything public are a dirty sport, and those involve can expect to "make a few enemies" as the film, smirking, points out. But I can't help but wonder if, what if I were the subject slanderous books describing my childhood, or with protesters carrying my portrait with superimposed Hitler mustache. Yes, the film probably won't ultimately hurt Zuckerberg. He has enough money to stuff his mattress with thousand dollar bills and completely retire from public life. And yes, I'm sure his rise to the top isn't without story and controversy. But I hope the biopic is fairer than the previews and critiques indicate. Whatever the sins and temptations that come from wealth, success and influence, they do not shield us from humanity. Those who make films, write columns or scrawl unaccountable words in cyberspace should keep that in mind.

Love College

The New York Times has some great advice from graduate assistants on how undergraduates can make the most of their college experience. As someone who continues to interact with students, I'd like to share a few of my own thoughts. Much of what's written below could be filed under "woulda shoulda coulda" for this B.A. holder:

1. Just say no to Starbucks, Chili's, Johnny Rocket's or any other restaurant, coffee shop, or bar you could find anywhere else in America. If you want to watch the creative energy of competitive small business, look at all the dining places that spring up and die around college campuses. Coffee shops, cup cake trends, creative pubs, sushi - the resources for a culinary adventure are within walking distance from your dorm. College is a chance to develop expand your taste for strange food, foreign beer and locally grown veggies. Taco Bell is for high school students. It's time to grow into something more interesting.
2. Travel. Of course, you're reading words from a man who fell in love with a foreigner and the foreign country she came from. But even before that (and, for me, before college) travel broadened my mind and added to my education in a way a classroom never could. Study abroad. Go on a mission trip or a service project. Believe me, you won't have your kind of energy five years from now. Don't sit around campus; see the world.
3. Hang out with international students. I loved getting to know people from Japan, India, Germany, France and Palestine at my university's international coffee hour. I volunteered as an English language partner for the university's intensive English study center. International students not only bring you new perspectives, but it is fascinating to meet those who are willing to get their education under completely new contexts. While your at it, take your international friend home to meet your parents. Only 10% of international students see the inside of an American home (college apartments don't count), and those that do count it as one of the experiences that had the most impact on their time in the States.
4. Protest. Chances are that during your four years the government will do something that goes against your deepest values. Join the throngs, make a sign, paint your face and practice democracy.
5. While your at it, vote. The voter turn out for young people is embarrassing. Don't forget to register, and don't forget to mail your ballot in. Even if you don't like the candidates, write something in or choose the lesser of two evils. Politicians pay attention to who votes, and if your particular demographic is underrepresented, they will not cater to you.
6. Get to know your professors. I could perhaps say "network" with your professors, but that sound so impersonal and utilitarian. Now, that being said, one of the reasons I wished I had done more of this was to get those recommendations for jobs or grad school. But don't have the posture of someone who is merely looking for career stepping stones. Your professors have worked hard to know and understand interesting things to share with you, and they will be all to happy to pass along what they know beyond their planned lectures. Visit them in their office hours to talk not just about your grades but about their expertise. Ask questions during class, and engage them after class. You won't regret it.
7. Know thyself. Had I better known myself, there's a lot I would have done differently. Plenty of folks my age say the same. Find out how you are wired - personality tests at your college career center will help with this, as will a part time job in the professional world. Find where your gifts lie through trial and error, but once you have them, aggressively pursue majors and careers that will best use them.
8. Don't skimp the economics classes, especially if you are in the social sciences. As an idealistic international relations major, I took the bare minimum requirement of economics (as an aside, an international relations degree should have required more econ than what ours did). I was turned off by the math, the charts, the terms (note to all economics teachers - you'll help your students if you explain the concepts before getting them to memorize the terms) and the fact that macroeconomics seemed like selfishness 101. Alas, economics are the vegetables of international affairs, political science, history, journalism and so many other interesting fields. Any graduate program worth its salt requires at least 12 hours of it. The policy world runs on it. You will be much more useful to the developing world if you understand it. So, hold your breath and learn it well. Get a college subscription to the Economist and read how interesting international economics can be. The dismal science is a science worth knowing, for all of us.
9. If you go to church, go to a church with families. You'll get more out of it if you gain mentors with gray hair and get to interact with their kids. If you never went to church, why not give it a shot? Ask a student in your local campus ministry to take you.
10. Take as many classes as you can, especially if you are on scholarship. Believe me, now that I am in the working world, I wish I could take more classes.
11. Turn four into more. So many students I meet literally consider themselves too cool for school. They lean back and with a resigned, impatient expression talk about how they can't wait to get out in the real world and make some money. Don't worry. The real world will still be there after another year, and you'll be with it until retirement. If you have the resources, take an extra major, pursue a graduate degree, work-study, stay for that extra football season. Unless you are deep in debt (something you should try to avoid), you won't regret getting too much education. Only too little. I personally would have added a communications degree to round out my international affairs qualifications. 20/20 hindsight.

What are your tips?

Prayer

Whenever I lead worship, it helps me forget myself and my performance and truly sing in praise (which is the first job of a worship leader) when I see someone close their eyes, lift up their hands and remember they are in the presence of a powerful God, a loving Father. There's a little girl in our church, not yet three years old, who dances with delight to the music. She reminds me why I'm up there. Now, she is gravely ill and immobilized.

If you are the praying type, please pray for Aubrey and her family. And if you're not the praying type, now's a good time to become just that. You're welcome to join us.

My Oktoberfest Memory

200 hundred years ago, Crown Prince Ludwig I and Therese of Sax-Hildburghausen organized a horse race in Munich, Germany to publicly celebrate their marriage. Somehow, this translated into filling liter-sized mugs with lager, and squeezing enough bodies and picnic tables into circus tents to give any fire marshall a heart attack. Combine with oompa music, stinky un-washable lederhosen and a carnival to make any mid-western mayor envious, and you've got Oktoberfest.

Yes, it usually starts in September (though the original did indeed start in October). And yes, thousands of sweat bodies in a near-suffocating tent dancing on picnic tables with bier-steins in each may not be your idea of a good time, but there's something about it that draws you in, splashes your teeth with beer and makes you dance with total strangers.

Actually, the one time I was in Oktoberfest, I wasn't even able to get into the tents. The lines were too long for the evening. I wasn't even planning to go. I ended up at the Oktoberfest celebration only after a botched attempted to take the LSAT. (don't laugh)

Let me explain. It was the fall of 2004, and I wasn't sure what I would do with myself after my second year in Germany. (Anyone out there sure of what to do with yourself? Please explain to me what that is like. Feel free to use the comment section.) Law school seemed as good an option of any. I crashed near Munich's university with a contact given to me through my organization the night before, ate the cheesy noodles he gave me, and got up early to clear my head. When I arrived to the test location, I found about thirty livid American 20-somethings standing before a door alternating between the two most celebrated curse words. With no prior announcement, the test had been postponed two days. I didn't have the cash to change my train ticket, so I viewed that as God telling me law school wasn't my best option. What to do with a free evening in Munich in late September?

I arrived at Oktoberfest intending to drink an enormous consolation beer. As I implied above, it is not just one tent or beer hall, but rather an enormous carnival with several beer tents sponsored by Munich's beloved beer establishments. And all of them were full, and the countless people in line looked like they had been waiting there since Ludwig's horse race.

But the Bavarians would not allow that to prevent a beer-sale to a tourist. There were plenty of outsider benches, the NIT of picnic tables, the merry planks for those of us who have not been consuming beer and weisswurst since breakfast. That's when I discovered how few Germans are actually at Oktoberfest (or at least they knew to show up early and get their lederhosen-covered bottoms in the circus tents). I set at a table with some very friendly Italian men, where we shared jokes and travel stories while clinking the enormous beer steins.

Sudden, from our left came an angry shout. A short, red-faced Australian man wanted to fight my new Italian friends. He accused them of stealing his hat. The Italians threw their hands up (just like their soccer players) and pleaded their innocence (just like their soccer players). I decided not to take sides (and made sure my wallet was safely in my front pocket). The Australian's voice grew louder, even as his voice grew hoarser. I noted that one of those liter-sized steins would make an effective weapon (or shield, for my purposes). The alpha-Italian, his beautiful brown eyes flashing at the Australian's purple face, insisted we were all friends here and we should enjoy our drinks.

Thankfully, and anticlimactically, the Australian staggered away, his grumbling unprintable (mainly because I couldn't actually hear what he said), and I wondered how many empty beer steins he had left behind him. He did look at me and said not to trust "these guys" (the Italians), because they were "thieves."

From inside the nearest tent, pop music, rock standards and traditional German folks songs played intermittently. I walked away, ignoring the smell of puke by focusing on the pleasant aftertaste that only a Bavarian lager could bring, happy to cross another cultural experience off of my list. Somewhere, Ludwig must have been smiling, however ironically.

The Big Three Ohhhhhh

My birthday is easy to remember. Before 2001, it was the same number used in America to dial for an emergency. It still is, but the significance drastically shifted. On my 21st birthday, around the same time my mother was calling to tell me how happy she is that I am around, terrorists snuffed out thousands of lives, changing the world and canceling my jazz club cocktail plans. I watched CNN and prayed instead. I still get funny looks when they check my ID.

Tomorrow I reach the three decade milestone. The big 3-0. A nice round number that should probably be irrelevant but it really means a lot. We divide each other by decades, because it's a convenient category. I'll start thinking about how all those folks in their twenties look and act so young, kind of like how I see college students now. So, on one day, not only does a new page turn, but a new chapter begins. And frankly, I'm looking forward to it.

The 20s are tough. Not as tough as seventh grade, but close. During the 20s, we stop being full-time students and take responsibility for our lives, and it's a crash course of hard knocks. I learned how I was really wired, how I should have spent my schooling. Don't get me wrong, great things happened, and great friends, not to mention a great God, carried me through. I experienced culture, life, love, brokenness, healing and redemption, and every one at a cost, leaving part of the old man behind. But here's hoping the next decade will be less bruising.

Friends and colleagues have raved how great the 30s are. These are the times when we finally get to apply those hard-knock lessons, where we stop self-obsessing and live life with work, family and a clear sense of what's important.

So bring it, fourth decade. I've got some pretty daggum high expectations.

Garden State Re-Viewed

Yesterday, my wife borrowed Garden State from the library. I had seen Zach Braff's 2004 movie a few years ago, but she had not seen it yet. Aside from being a film we'll one day show our kids when they ask us about hip, turn-of-the-century music, there was a point in the story that struck me as worth keeping. (mind the spoiler) At the end, the main character, Largeman (played by Braff) after kicking the emotion-numbing medication that he used for a decade and a half, realizes that he needs to figure himself out now that he can feel. He had returned home to New Jersey from LA for his mother's funeral. Now, armed with this new self-realization he acquired over his four day return, he boards the plane back to California. His new, life-to-the-fullest girlfriend (my favorite Natalie Portman role) begs him to stay, so that they can make the journey together. Before takeoff, he leaves the airplane and returns to her so they can do just that.

It's a good reminder that most of us need help in our journeys of redemption, and unadulterated individualism rarely works for this sort of thing. As I continue to point out, I've needed help in my journey, and really, that's ok. The better films of this decade have made the same point, of course.

A suggestion beyond Garden State would be to invite God into your journey as well. Whether intended or not, God's absence is deeply and sadly felt in the film, as the characters use legal and illegal drugs, sex, relationships, money, experience - each numbing themselves in their own way. Natalie Portman's character mentions nonchalantly that she doesn't really believe in God. Largeman himself insists that he's not really (as in religiously) Jewish and only goes to Temple on Yom Kippur.

If you find yourself with a sort of familiar ache for a home that no longer exists, which is something the characters talk about in one of the more reflective moments, then consider getting to know Jesus. When I know him, my life is as beautiful or tragic or mundane as anyone else's, but it's filled with something more than can't be replicated. He offers life, and everything that comes with it, only more so.

Meanwhile, if you have not seen Garden State, or have not seen it in awhile, go to your local library and borrow it for the evening. Well worth it.

Best/Worst Case -- Florida State

The nation rejoices - college football is on the television, on the radio, and on the hats, polos and jerseys everywhere the eye can see! And, of course, it's all over this here Internet thing I get to write on.

So, in the spirit of ESPN and 24-hour sports coverage (and with apologies to my favorite sports blogger), I present to you the best case and worse case scenario for my alma mater's 2010 college football season.

BEST CASE

Florida State University roars out of the gates with an amazing upset of Oklahoma, and right on your humble blogger's birthday to boot! From there, the Noles demolish the ACC competition, humiliate the out of conferences foes and the in-state rivals (including a last second, upright-splitting field goal to send Miami packing) and whup up on my father's alma mater in the ACC championship. Christian Ponder, after claiming the Heisman Trophy, delivers a tearful acceptance speech so good that it resolves the Israel/Palestine conflict, and all nations, from rogue states to democracies, beat their nuclear weapons into plough shares (no accidents take place). After crushing a resurgent Notre Dame in the BCS championship, all of the nation's top recruits reject their previous commitments and clamor for Tallahassee, while the rest of the nation's elite programs can only watch, pray and fight over the remaining spoils.

The great FSU dynasty ensues, taking home championship after championship. Their success makes them so beloved, that they leave the Atlantic Coast Conference and sign an exclusive television contract with NBC (which decides not to renew its contract with the ailing Fighting Irish). Not to be outdone, ESPN pays Florida State University hundreds of millions of dollars for "College Game Day" to be broadcast live from Doak Campbell Stadium every week (they change their theme song to "We're Coming To Your City - if you live in Tallahassee").

Meanwhile, all the extra sports revenue swells the endowment, attracting the best faculty and students for every conceivable field. Academic excellence increases exponentially and within five years (and five BCS championships), Florida State is considered the Harvard of the south. After five more years of success (and five more championships), Harvard is the consensus Florida State of the north. Academic flourishing trickles into every aspect of life, and along with sport and learning, art, business and authentic Christian spirituality thrive, from Tallahassee, to Florida, to the United States and to the world.

WORST CASE

Florida State is humiliated on opening day (tomorrow) with a last-second, loss to Samford, thanks to a missed field goal in the closing seconds that sails wide right. From there, the rest of the season goes down the toilet, with each loss more humiliating. All of FSU's top recruits end up in the hospital or in jail, and the remaining players desperately try to transfer to Florida International University. Coach Jimbo Fisher is fired in shame and takes a job cleaning Renegade's stables.

Bowl-less, winless and shamed, Florida State is kicked out of the Atlantic Coast Conference and demoted through the ranks of college football, where, after five years and five goose-egg season, the Noles find passing success at club flag football level. Desperate Florida State athletic officials waste all sorts of money trying to secure coaches and television contracts, but to no avail, and other university sports suffer. The athletic demise starts a rot which infects the school academically, as department after department lose faculty and quality students. This phenomenon prompts U.S. News and World Report to create a "Just Say No" list of national universities, with FSU ranked at the top every year.

Meanwhile, the combined forces of industry, government and Mordor turn a now impoversihed Tallahassee into a dark, post-apocalyptic city, which pollutes the Gulf of Mexico more than any BP oil spill ever could. The resulting filth hastens the effects of Global Warming. The Polar Ice Caps melt, and the state of Florida sinks into the sea, prompting residents to flee to Kentucky. The environmental and humanitarian calamity causes all countries to go to war with one another over scarce resources, starting when Finland invades Sweden. In the process, all forms of art, culture and beauty vanish and are forgotten, and once again, every human being has only one goal: survival.

PREDICTION:

Somewhere in between. Happy football watching, everybody!