Freelance Translating for Free!

Dear CNN-

You’ve got entirely too many reporters covering news of the Vatican and you’ve got approximately NO ONE following the Mormon Church. With 14 million members worldwide, that’s a glaring hole in your news coverage.  No worries though; I’m on it. 

On March 1, 2013, the Mormons (led by 3 very white men pictured below) announced the release of an updated version of the Mormon scriptures. 



May the next Mormon presidential candidate be more male, more white and more Republican!

The official release cites advances in historical research and printing technologies. In typical Mormon doublespeak, the Church statement wholly neglects to mention the substantive additions to its scriptural canon.  In fact, Church members are specifically told that they are not expected to obtain a new set of scriptures as a result of the updated version.  That’s because it’s easier to sneak in the changes when nobody is looking. 

But CNN, I am looking and I intend to keep you fully-informed of the latest developments.  The biggest news is the crafty new introductions for official declarations, which can be read here.   They are highly-technical and that makes it easy to overlook the communication that is actually taking place.  Fear not!  As a 20-year scholar of Mormonism, I’m fluent in Mormonspeak.  And I'm happy to volunteer my translation services to you.  For free. 

Translation of Declaration 1:  Stop calling us polygamists!

It’s all God’s fault. God told women that if they didn’t participate in polygamy, they’d go to Hell. (See  Doctrine and Covenants Section 132:4.)  While polygamy may have been bad for women, it was even worse for publicity. So, after the practice was declared illegal, God promptly let the Mormons know that the polygamy thing should be discontinued.  Stat.  The Mormons (mostly) obliged God. But if anyone should be blamed for polygamy, it isn't the Mormons.  It’s God.  The Mormons were simply following the rules.   

Translation of Declaration 2: We aren't racists anymore.

The Book of Mormon teaches that non-white skin is a curse that can be removed by righteousness.  (See 3 Nephi 2:15 if you don't believe me.)  For 100 years, the Church relied upon the Book of Mormon to deny the priesthood to male members of African descent.*  Because God had not yet spoken about the ills of bigotry, the Mormon Church instituted race-based discrimination as a prudent and precautionary measure.  Thankfully, God made an appearance in 1978, and “revealed” that Africa and Africans were pretty much okay after all.  (It is unfortunate, but the Mormon Church can’t un-do it’s own idiotic decisions until it receives God’s express consent. Regrettably, it takes God approximately 100 years to respond to low-priority e-mail messages from Salt Lake.)  In any case, the Mormons haven't been practicing racists for, like, 35 years now. 

CNN, you need me. I promise you won't find a better freelance translator of Mormonspeak than me!  (Especially not one who works for free.)  And besides, you really ought to be paying attention.  These new introductions are obviously NOT the result of developments in "historical research and printing technologies."  On the contrary, these changes are the result of old-fashioned political angling. The Mormons aren't simply distancing themselves from their history; they are attempting to mollify minority voters for the next election. You should be watching. I should be translating.  Please be in touch.

Sincerely,

SEE

*  The Mormon church still denies the priesthood to female members of African descent.

Love-ly.

Dear Oprah-

I can’t remember the last time I watched your show, but it made me cry and then I was depressed.  At that moment, I realized your true genius—you make people think about things that make them sad so that those same people have to tune in the next day so you can tell them how to overcome their sadness.  I’ve got your number, Oprah.  I’m on to you.  And anyway, I have absolutely no interest in all that that you-are-loved and love-is-freeing rhetoric.  Especially not when it comes from a stranger on cable TV.

Nevertheless, I thought of you on Tuesday, February 12, 2013: Valentine’s Day (observed).  Sam treated me to a lovely dinner and we watched the State of the Union Address together. As the evening wound down, Sam leaned over and told me that he liked me.  I told him that I liked him too and that it was a lovely Valentine’s Day (observed).  He smiled and then he said something game-changing:

“Maybe because its Valentine’s Day (observed) and maybe I’m feeling overly-sentimental, but there’s another L-word rolling around in my head right now.”

To be clear, if Sam had told me he loved me, I might have excused myself to go to the bathroom and then climbed out through the vent for the exhaust fan and run home barefoot.  In my experience, love is a time bomb that could break your heart into a million tiny pieces at any moment.   And since I haven’t found a bomb squad that can help me disengage before the bomb detonates, I generally avoid love like the plague. Or the norovirus. 

But Sam didn’t tell me he loved me.  (Thank Gawd.)  By stating there was an L-word bouncing around in his head, Sam simply suggested that he was capable of being in love with me.  And if someone is capable of being in love with me . . . that means I must be loveable. 

It was a revolutionary thought, and one that I hadn’t properly considered before.  (After all, I was very, very busy not getting attached and not letting anyone get attached to me.)  So, while I may have seen myself as smart(ish) and fun and sometimes funny, I’ve never really identified myself as falling-in-love or being-loved material.  Now Oprah, I will acknowledge that you’ve been telling me I was worthy of love for my whole entire life.  But you say that to everyone—it’s like, your job.  And anyway, you don’t really know me.

The point is that now someone who does know me has declared me loveable, and I’ve decided he’s right.  But Oprah, you were right too.  Feeling loveable is outrageously liberating.  It means I can stop fretting about The End.  It means I can quit making lists of reasons not to get attached.  It means I can stop planning escape routes.  It means I can stop trying to convince others that I’m All Wrong.  It means that I can enjoy the butterflies and fairy dust and laugh-out-loud moments of getting to know someone.  It means I can embrace the uncertainty of relationships because I trust that I’m still a loveable person.

In that sense, it was the best ever Valentine’s Day (observed) gift. I don’t know if things with Sam will work out or not.   Fortunately, feeling loveable is a little gem of awareness I’ll take with me no matter how the relationship ends.  But if it ends badly, Oprah, and I need any help overcoming sadness or disappointment, I promise I’ll tune in--I’ve got your channel.

Sincerely,

SEE