That comparison is helpful, I think, because it reminds us that our culture—that vast vortex of ideas and images and values and habits and preferences and beliefs—swirls constantly around us, whether we're aware of it or not. And it's constantly transmitting a steady stream of information.

Even if we're trying to pay attention and think critically about the metaphorical water we're swimming it—which is one of the things we're trying to do here at Plugged In—it can be challenging to recognize where and how our culture's values seep in and begin to influence the way I see the world.

When it comes to my children, however, culture's influence is much more apparent. Because my kiddos are so young—Henry's nearly 4 and my daughter, Annabeth, isn't quite 2—it's pretty easy to spot when something new turns up.

Like, say, a song about lollipops.

A couple days ago, my wife came back from a baby shower with a bunch of baby-themed lollipops. Henry, of course, wanted one. And we eventually relented to his pleas.

After plopping the sugary confection in his little mouth, Henry did something that caught me utterly off guard: He started singing the song "Lollipop": "Lollipop, lollipop/Oh lolli lolli lolli/Lollipop!" As the lyrics tumbled out of his sucker-filled mouth, he danced delightedly through the kitchen, as happy, it seemed, to be singing this silly song as he was about the candy itself.

Here's the thing: I have no idea where he heard this song. Usually when some new cultural influence pops up, I can identify its origin. But I was stumped on this one. All I know is that my child, who's not yet 4, knows the lyrics to a song first made famous by the Cordettes waaaaayyyyy back in 1958—48 years before Henry was born.

To me it was a breathtaking illustration of how cultural influence works. This song has been floating around in the cultural current for 52 years now. And now that particular current has swept by my son—somehow, without me knowing it—as he happily swims about in his little world.

Thankfully, this example of culture's influence on my family isn't one that I need to spend too much time brooding about. But it is a sobering reminder that the oceanic currents of culture really are swirling all around us, whether we're aware of them or not. And my little "fishies"—as well as me, a bigger, older, and balder "fishie"—swim in that water every day.

Apparently, Wendy's recently removed a CD from its kids' meals after parents complained about inappropriate lyrics that were part of a promotion with Universal Music. The Donna Summer disco classic "Last Dance" showed up with two different sets of lyrics. In one version she says she's "so, so bad." In another she says she's "so horny." Not exactly what mom and dad want their preschooler listening to as she sucks chocolate milk through a bendy straw.

On one hand I have to ask, Did no one at Wendy's bother to listen to the track before giving it the green light? On the other hand, the fast-food chain had the decency to act quickly and take parents' concerns seriously. I think Dave Thomas would've been proud of that response. Now all that remains is to convince Ronald McDonald and the Burger King to stop promoting PG-13 movies in their kiddie meals. Frankly, it would be nice if every restaurant took the approach of Chick-fil-A by featuring kids' meal goodies such as books, educational toys or Adventures in Odyssey CDs.

I should add that I'm not categorically opposed to the cheap plastic trinkets that will no doubt end up in the "free" box at our next yard sale (though stepping on them in the middle of the night can be a bummer). Rather, as a dad and a culture watcher, it worries me that fast-food chains often seem more interested in their licensing partnerships than in partnering with parents.

Ever heard of the "Marshmallow Test?"

No, it's not a s'mores-eating competition (though that might be nice). It's an experiment that researcher Walter Mischel conducted in the late 1960's. He gave marshmallows to 4-year-olds, promising them more marshmallows if they could resist eating the first one for 15 minutes. In a nutshell, he found that those who could resist did better in life than those who could not because they had more self-discipline.

Christian Science Monitorwriter Mel Layos recently compared Facebook to those marshmallows, saying that most of its users—adults included—find the site is even sweeter and harder to resist. He says even he couldn't refrain from checking his Facebook page while writing the article:

So, I'm curious. How many of you are in the same boat as Layos? Do you update your statuses while at work? Multiple times per day?

Is Layos right in saying that Facebook—and perhaps any such form of technology—is fostering a "temptation generation" and a "right now" culture that cannot delay gratification? And, if so, how do you navigate a world that seems obsessed with it?

The folks at Annenberg (part of the University of Pennsylvania) studied films from 1950 to 2006 and discovered that, since 1984, the level of explicit violence in film has gone up dramatically—particularly in movies deemed at least semi-suitable for children. That's significant, because 1984 was the year the Motion Picture Association of America introduced the PG-13 rating to the world—a rating that the MPAA hoped would better shield kids from excessive violence.

I was a mere lad back in 1984, but I remember the controversy. From what I recall, the impetus really involved two Steven Spielberg films—Gremlins, in which a critter gets fried in a microwave oven, and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, in which an evil priest pulls a still-beating heart from someone's chest cavity. The MPAA branded both as PG despite the violence in these scenes, but the ratings board knew there was growing demand for something between PG and R—a rating that the Gremlins of the world could inhabit in peace.

Great in theory. But the result, according to Annenberg, has been what they call "ratings creep." A PG-13 film like Mission Impossible 2, researchers say, has about the same level of violence as 1974's R-rated Magnum Force, and far more than 1982's R-rated 48 Hours. A film like 2008's Taken would've been unquestionably an R-rated flick in 1983. Not exactly what we'd assume the MPAA had in mind.

"The finding that PG-13 movies are becoming increasingly violent is worrisome given the fact that PG-13 movies now account for more than half of top-grossing film sales," said Annenberg's Patrick E. Jamieson in a recent press release. "Adolescents are more likely to engage in violent behavior as a result of viewing media models of violence, and films may reinforce the message that violence is an acceptable solution to people's problems."

Interestingly, Annenberg didn't find the same sort of ratings creep when it came to sexuality. Which, I guess, makes sense. Americans are generally more squeamish about sex on screen than violence.

Do we get a little schizophrenic when it comes to sex and violence in film? Does one bother you more than another? And, just so we don't stray way off point here, do you think PG-13 films have gotten bloodier?

Without fail there are young children at the R-rated film screenings I attend as a Plugged In reviewer. At Repo Men—a sci-fi/action flick that has so much blood, violence and sexual activity that no adult should see it either—there were three young kids there with their grandmother. The oldest was probably about 6.

After the movie, I asked the older woman, "Wow. Should they have seen this film?" She replied, "Oh, they're used to that sort of thing. It won't affect them much."

My tongue is still bloody from biting it.

Occasionally, I challenge someone who believes such things. And if I'd had a chance to address it that night, I might have reminded this woman of the research done on children who watch such content:

Youth exposed to violent images have a much greater likelihood of behaving inappropriately, or even violently, with peers and adults.

Children who watch adult content are more prone to underage smoking and drinking. Such content also increases sexual behavior among adolescents.

R-rated content causes a spike in children's sensation-seeking behavior—apparently because real-life seems boringly slow when compared to onscreen drama.

The Centers for Disease Control have found that violence is the second leading cause of death for young people between the ages of 10 and 24, with 5,686 youth murdered each day. Now consider the senate judiciary committee that found an average American child will see 200,000 violent acts and 16,000 murders on TV alone by age 18. A steady diet of R-rated films would push those numbers up dramatically.

So, madam moviegoer with grandkids, I'm sorry, but you're wrong. And I hope your family and others don't have to pay the consequences.

Green Zone's weekend results must've been especially disappointing to its makers. The R-rated Iraqi War flick reunited A-lister Matt Damon with The Bourne Supremacy/Ultimatum director Paul Greengrass, and surely the folks at Universal were hoping for more. But maybe they shouldn't have. From what I gather, Green Zone was a well-crafted, but rather politically biased, effort—the latest in a long line of films to question our role in (and our motives for going into) Iraq. Almost all of them have flopped: Even The Hurt Locker, which took a pretty dispassionate look at the Iraqi War and scored several Oscars recently, barely made $15.7 million.

All of which suggests, to me, two important points. One: The film industry, by and large, thinks the United States' involvement in Iraq was a mistake. Two: The rest of America doesn't want to hear it.

But even though films like Green Zone have bombed at the box office, I can't help but wonder if they'll still affect how we view the war in Iraq down the road.

We all have thoughts about whether the war was justified or no, whether our government went in with the best of intentions or duplicitous motives. Perhaps history will give us a definitive answer—or perhaps we'll never know for sure. But most of the films about the Iraqi War seem to tell us that we do know … and since not many people follow history very well, I can't help but wonder whether Hollywood will forever shape how we view this critical period in our history, for better or worse.

It got me thinking a bit about war movies in general—how history influences them, and how they, in turn, influence us. Most of us believe World War II was perhaps history's last truly "just" war, and history seems to back that up … but I can't help but wonder whether all those flag-waving WW II flicks helped cement that view. The Vietnam War is seen as a national tragedy—a point of view bolstered by Platoon and Full Metal Jacket. And how many of us know much about the Korean War beyond what we've seen in M*A*S*H?

I dunno. I'm still mulling these thoughts around a bit, wondering whether it's a theme worth exploring in a story down the road. And, as such, I'd be interested to hear what you think: How much do war movies influence how we see the wars they depict?

A few months ago, someone on my Facebook friends list announced to a gazillion people that he was about to have a medical "adventure" that most would want to keep utterly private. (I'll keep the particulars under wraps, but even television doctors frequently snicker about it.)

The announcement itself would have been bad enough, but then he chronicled the procedure in all of its gory clinical glory. He probably thought this was funny … but I thought it was just way too much information. I can name a couple of people who are having trouble looking him in the eye—myself included.

Wow.

It seems Facebook has become such an integral part of many people's lives that they automatically gravitate to it whenever they want to share anything. And I mean anything—even beyond silly personal stuff and into highly confidential information that could put lives and entire countries at risk.

Last month, an Israeli soldier revealed on Facebook the time and place of a scheduled raid on the West Bank. He even announced the name of his unit. He was "unfriended" by the Israeli army shortly after (read: kicked out and court-martialed) and sentenced to 10 days in prison.

His confidential update occurred even after Israel had launched a full-scale campaign highlighting the dangers of sharing military information online.

It all makes me wonder if social networking has made us lose our secrets and our minds.

Nonetheless, this week's Up Front article, "It's Good to Be Bored," (written by yours truly) featured thoughts on stillness, and how being at rest or deep in thought is often confused with boredom in our culture. More specifically, the article dealt with the importance of being still and reflective enough to allow our minds and spirits a chance to process what's happening in our lives. To think and explore. To learn and accept. To know God and ourselves. To figure out why certain middle-aged men enjoy Star Trek reruns SO much.

Anyway. Nowadays many people seem to consider soul-searching something reserved for a couple minutes of church each week, if that. But is that enough in our manic, disjointed world? (Or are we so used to it that we don't see our insane pace?)

And if you feel like you don't have time to breathe, let alone contemplate, pray or journal, then what are some ways to get more breathing space? Or is being still and silent for a time about as appealing to you as wearing Spock ears for 24 hours?

If you are still and deep in thought for a time, I promise nothing strange will happen. You won't, for example, start to speak Klingon. But you will learn a few things about God's presence. And blessings to you when you do.