Organization is in part about being prepared for the moment when insight strikes. It's about creating the conditions for creativity to flourish, so that when you enter into creation mode, your physical world is set up to support you. Being organized also creates the mental order that many people need to be able to put aside mundane things and enter a creative head-space.

This is so true. We so often think of creativity as being this serendipitous, spontaneous moment of inspiration. In truth, creativity is the byproduct of dedicated work. As Thomas Edison said, genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration. I read some songwriting stuff a few years back and every successful songwriter echoed the same message: songwriting is a craft. It's not something that just comes to you. You need to work at it so that you're prepared for inspiration. That's true whether you're a Christian songwriter or not.

Personally, I think the same is true for the Holy Spirit. I sometimes hear people say that they'll "just let the Spirit move" as a synonym for not planning or organizing. I don't think that's how the Spirit works, as described in Scripture and in real life.

I can think of only one passage where Scripture says to intentionally not plan in order to let the Spirit work, in Mark 13:11 - "Whenever you are arrested and brought to trial, do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit."

Balanced against that are, I think, many verses that say that there must be planning, foresight, and organization. I think 1 Corinthians 14 sums it up best. It describes how certain spiritual gifts (e.g. speaking in tongues and prophecy) should be practiced in the church, and Paul proscribes order: "everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way." (1 Cor. 14:39). Organization.

I found this random video from WorshipGod 2009 on Youtube and the speakers make the same point, more bluntly: "If your understanding of the personal work of the Holy Spirit doesn't involve or include planning, then you're... dumb."

And from what I've seen, people and organizations most in tune with the Holy Spirit spend a lot of time planning. My dad, when he prays for someone's healing, spends a bunch of time in preparation before he even starts to pray. Jieun's mom seems to prepare a lot for her prayer sessions as well.

To be sure, there is a type of planning that can interfere with the Holy Spirit, just like slavish devotion to a plan can stifle creativity. Planning doesn't guarantee the Spirit, and inflexible planning can quench him. But even though that's true, in my view, it's a fallacy to therefore think that the Holy Spirit moves better when we don't plan. As far as I've seen, the opposite is true. Good, proper planning helps make us ready for when the Spirit moves.

I just took it for granted that everyone loves In N' Out, because I do so much. Here's why.

Actually, if you have time, read this fascinating Malcolm Gladwell essay about ketchup. The condensed version: one of the great marketing realizations of the 70s is that people don't like the same thing. Before, companies used to sell just one kind of everything, be it mustard, or spaghetti sauce, or whatever. They'd make focus groups to test different recipes, and sell the one people liked best. It seems obvious now, but it took a few pioneers to realize that different people like different things. Those companies that took advantage of it, by introducing dijon mustard, or chunky spaghetti sauce, or whatever, were enormously successful. And this realization lead to the endless variety we have today, the world of organic Cherry Vanilla Berry Burst Cheerios.

The interesting this is, this doesn't apply to ketchup. No one has successfully introduced a new variety of ketchup like they have with pretty much any other condiment or food. The reason is, ketchup is in some ways an ideal food. The human palate has five known fundamental tastes: salty, sweet, sour, bitter, and umami. Ketchup delivers all of those tastes in balance. And that just tastes right. It's why children instinctively like to cover their food in ketchup. And because it's so well balanced, anything that deviates from it ends up tasting off.

I bring this up because that balance between different tastes is why I love In N' Out. It is, for me, the ideal balance of tastes combined with high quality. The bun is slightly sweet and soft, contrasted with the toasted part that helps manage the juices. The lettuce is cold and crisp. The tomato is slightly sweet, slightly tangy. The onion is slightly sweet and sharp. The meat and cheese, salty and warm. The sauce adds additional tang and sweet. If I'm in a spicy mood, I ask for sliced chiles. The combination of tastes, texture, and temperature in an In N' Out burger is, to me, almost ideal.

I'm still blown away that not everyone shares my love for In N' Out. It's not that I don't appreciate other burgers. I do. I like variety. But In N' Out is nearly my platonic burger ideal.

Apparently I was quoted in a recent news article also. I'm now known to the dozens of people who read it for giving beer. I hadn't heard from Ryan in maybe a decade before he called for this. Incidentally, the friend to whom I gave that beer? George.

Also, Jieun insisted that Amazon clean up their entry for my dad's book so now I'm listed and come up if you search for my name in Amazon. For the record, I was against putting my name on it, because I really didn't do anything and none of the text or ideas are mine, but my dad ended up doing it anyway.

Now I need to get on IMDB. Maybe I can have Janice list me in "Special Thanks" for her short film just so I can get a listing. Then my goal of being obscurely mentioned in media will be complete.

The kids are learning to share a lot better but it's still a source of quarreling. Jieun taught Joshua to, instead of just grabbing things, asking politely and counting to 10. The thing is, he generally skips the asking nicely part, so he's constantly walking up to people and counting loudly to 10.

The funny thing is, Abby's started to do this also. (That's been a curious phenomenon. We expected Joshua to do everything Abby does. But for certain things, Abby's wanted to do what Joshua is into, and that was a surprise.) So the other morning, both kids were fighting over some toy and both kept yelling at each other, repeatedly, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!" It was pretty funny.

Side note. I found out recently that Christopher Hitchens, another prominent atheist (and all-around gloomy guy) has a brother who was at one time also a militant atheist and eventually became a Christian. He recently wrote a book about his path toward faith. I find that remarkable.

Back to Harris. He recently gave a TED talk that so bothered me so much that I feel compelled to respond, even though no one here cares at all.

Here's the issue. Many people of faith argue (and I agree), that it's difficult, if not impossible, to establish a moral framework, a system for evaluating what's right and wrong, without religion. Science can tell us much about facts. But it can't tell us about values.

Harris disagrees, saying that science is sufficient to answer such questions. He argues that values are, in fact, based on facts. For example, we care more about animals than rocks. Why? Because the former has a greater degree of consciousness. And this is a testable fact. He adds that he has never encountered a value system that isn't reducible to a concern about conscious experience, and since science can answer the question of what is conscious, science is a reliable guide for morality.

The problem is, his argument begs the question. Even if science can help us elucidate what things have a conscious experience, it still can't tell us why we should care about others' conscious experience. In other words, science may be able to help us measure moral values we hold. But science still doesn't answer why those moral values should be there in the first place.

That's basically the problem with his entire approach - it always begs the question. He says afterwards that we know that there's a continuum between suffering and an idyllic state. And he claims that there are objective, measurable answers about how to move people along that continuum. Again, that begs the question; several questions in fact. How do we know the criteria for this continuum? Is being poor on the wrong side of the continuum, even one is happy? If happiness is the criteria, how do you define that? Science can't.

Furthermore, why should we care about others well-being? In history, there have been many cases where societies only cared about their own well-being. There are extreme examples like the Nazis. But in ancient times, caring only about one's own society was the norm. Empires' entire economies (like the Romans) depended on conquering and pillaging other lands. We now think that's wrong, and that we should care about other societies in addition to our own. But why?

His whole talk is predicated on the premise that morality is about maximizing human well-being and flourishing and that science can establish how to do that. But he fails to explain the most basic question - why should morality care about human well-being? And science just can't answer that.

Later, he addresses the question of how we can resolve moral questions when many people have different ideas about what morality is. He argues that just as there are experts in the sciences whose opinions should matter more, we should acknowledge that people can be more or less knowledgeable about morality, and thus they're ideas should be held in more esteem or discredited. Isn't it obvious, he says, that we should disregard the ideas of the Taliban.

Again, this begs the question. It's a circular argument. He's saying that in figuring out whose ideas of morality are valid, we should evaluate them according to.. who is most moral. That makes no sense.

Anyway. I find it odd that Sam Harris garners so much respect. Hitchens and Dawkins I understand, even if I disagree. But Harris doesn't even make sense.

One time was before my wedding. I asked Minho to be the DJ, and he came over to 420 James Rd. one night to make a mix for the reception. He asked me what kind of music I wanted, and I told him to use whatever he wants, that I trusted him. Then when he started assembling some music together, I started nixing some of his selections.

Henry overheard that and got pissed. And he was right to.

You can't tell someone they can do whatever they want, that they have ownership over it, and then object to some of their decisions. It's the worst thing you can do. It gives the impression of enabling, but really leaves them powerless, and worse, paralyzed, because they're expected to make their own decisions but know that really, they have to conform to some unstated preferences that you have. You're making them do something and not giving them the ability to really do it. That sucks.

Either you fully entrust them, and accept whatever they decide, or you be honest and state all your requirements up front. But saying they can do whatever they want and then objecting or modifying it when they do, that's the worst. It's a lesson I've remembered to this day.

And I need to remember it, because honestly, I still do this too much, especially with Jieun. It happens a lot when we're deciding where/what to eat. I'll say I'm fine with whatever. So she'll decide on something, say Chili's. And then I'll nix it. That sucks, and I'll remember as it happens that it sucks, but I need to remember more before I do it.

Another time Henry got angry at me was when Eric came over to work on a project for our CS 223B (Computer Vision) class. It was due the next day, and it was already pretty late, and I was screwing around, probably browsing the web or something. Henry was pissed. Because it's one thing to waste your own time. It's another thing to waste someone else's time. That sucks.

And again, he was right, and it's a lesson I've held with me to this day. So like, at work, if someone is waiting on something from me, I prioritize that first. It's not good to waste your own time, but it's awful to waste someone else's.

SN: I got an A+ in that class. Eric took it for pass / no-credit so no A+ for him. The Cal folks that go to Stanford for grad school claim that Stanford has rampant grade inflation. I disagree, but classes like that one don't help my argument; there's no way I deserved an A+. I got a few other A+s in college but those were work; sadly, Eric and other Cal folks probably think it's as easy as it was for CS 223B, which it wasn't. Sigh.

I remember these two times because they were lessons I've kept with me, but also because they were two of the rarer times that Henry was right to be angry. He gets angry many other times for no valid reason. One of my favorite memories, really in my life, was a time we were playing Bust-A-Move. Henry got so angry that I was consistently winning that he started foaming at the mouth. He wasn't angry at me, really. And actually, he was more frustrated than angry, I think. But I had never seen anyone upset to the point of foaming at the mouth before. Good times.

Growth in size of the bread: 23%

Abby recently made name tags for everyone in small group before they came. Her name tag read "Disney Princess".

I've started to make up bedtime stories for Abby. They're all similar, involving the Chai Royal Family on a quest to do something or other, and along the way they have to pass tasks by showing how they can share with others, or love each other, or stuff like that. It's my way of getting her to think for herself how she can treat others better. It doesn't work.

Anyway, in a recent story, the Chai Royal Family's quest was to recover their friend Ariel the Mermaid's 3 lost items: a dinglehopper, a Prince Eric statue, and a snarfblatt. Abby requested that we change the last item to an iPad. Kids these days.

Certain Laker fans continue to drive me nuts, in particular the ones who say that Kobe is clearly better than LeBron because of his superior performance in the playoffs and how far his teams go.

Look, everyone (including me) respects Kobe, his game, his preparation, his devotion to his craft. It's all about winning championships, and he has 4 rings. He's one of the best players ever. But it's unfair to say Kobe and LeBron's teams' performances are a direct reflection on them. As every rational NBA commentator consistently points out, Kobe has a far better supporting cast than LeBron does. And that matters.

Certain Kobe fanboys say that that's just an excuse for LeBron. But it's not. Kobe would not have done any better were he in LeBron's situation. And that's not just speculation; Kobe was in the exact same position in 2004-2007, an awesome player on a mediocre team. In those 3 seasons, the Lakers missed the playoffs (tied with the Warriors for last place in the Pacific) and lost in the first round twice. His supporting cast in those seasons were comparable to what LeBron has now, probably better. I'd argue that Odom then was better than anyone on the current Cavs team. And they went nowhere. So spare me the LeBron isn't as good as Kobe because he can't carry a team in the playoffs by himself. Empirically, Kobe didn't either. In fact, he did far worse. For the record, neither did Michael.

Dave's post made me wonder when I started hating the Lakers, because I didn't always. I liked them a lot in the 80s. I'm with him - I think a lot of it started when I first encountered LA-centricism in college, people who act like LA (and LA sports) is the center of the universe. Newsflash - it's not. Unless that universe is hell.

There is a wonderful story — which is, I fear, apocryphal... It is the story of a visit to Harrow School during the early 1960s by Sir Winston Churchill, that lion of the British Empire, returning to the scene of his graduation in 1893.

As the story goes, Churchill was well into his eighties — frail, wizened, and bent over — when he returned to Harrow for the opening of school, a formal affair with the students and their teachers in white tie. At the conclusion of the dinner, Churchill was asked if he'd say a few words. He rose, paused, and then spoke. "Never give up. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never." Then he sat down, to thunderous applause.

That is the simple message I deliver to you today as you enter the tough real world that recent generations have given you: Never give up. I've especially loved the fifth "never" in that sequence, not because of the number itself, but because that fifth "never" is a wonderful metaphor for the numerous times in the lives of so many of us when, faced with defeat, we have had to draw on our deepest resources to fight back and defend our lives, our careers, our principles, our honor, and our character.

...

Don't forget that fifth never. Someday you may need it.

Never give up. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Good words.

A recap of the most inconvenient places to get a zit that I have had:

• The nose/cheek crevice I just mentioned.
• The ear canal. I got this one a few weeks ago also. How do you pop that? You can squeeze out, you have to try to push on it, which I did to the point of tears, but no popping.
• Inside the eyelid. Oh man. Always there, always annoying you every time you blink.
• On the butt. So it hurts every time you sit down. Terrible.
• In the butt. Uh, won't elaborate. But it sucks.

I don't get why Kaiser doesn't get more love. Maybe I'm biased because I've been going there forever. But I've always been happy with it. It always gets high ratings (e.g., as of this writing, it was the highest ranked health insurance plan in California by U.S. News and World Report). In Atul Gawande's important New Yorker article on the most expensive (and worst) health care in the country, Kaiser is mentioned as being one of the best. Still, despite its high ratings and reputations, a lot of my coworkers, when given the choice between Kaiser and something else (typically more expensive), they'll choose something else.

To me, this points to another reason why free market principles can't currently work with health care. One critical prerequisite for a working free market is information. And there's simply not enough information about the relative effectiveness of different health care centers. In another fascinating article, Gawande writes about cystic-fibrosis, and about how for years, there was no way of knowing which centers were better in treating cystic-fibrosis, although when you looked at the data, some clearly were. Which hospitals in the Bay Area are best? I, for one, have no clue, because there's no real data for me to compare.

Hospitals have good reason for not publishing data about their outcomes. It's really hard to interpret. For example, if the 5-year survival rates for cancer patients is higher at one hospital than at another, it's hard to tell if it's because the first hospital is better or because the latter one gets more difficult or advanced cases.

In the absence of available data, Americans tend to assume that more is better when it comes to health care. They assume that more expensive plans must be better, even though there's no evidence to support that (and some to support that there's almost no link between spending and effectiveness). Americans hospitals do far more unnecessary tests, spend far more on unnecessary treatment and procedures, all based on the assumption that more must be better. But it's not.

Anyway, I'm pretty happy with Kaiser. We've had good experiences. It's universally highly rated by national publications (Gawande giving Kaiser a shout out in the New Yorker as being a model sticks with me). And it's relatively cheap, which has mattered a lot since we gave birth to and are raising two kids. Not much to dislike about that.