Star Wars - The ultimate space fantasy for a 7 year old kid. A young man learning to use his father's light sword to defeat the very evil Darth Vader with the help of a kindly old grandfather, a bad ass space pirate, and his furry alien sidekick who kind of looks like your teddy bear on steroids. There's a princess and a space battle, and then, literally with seconds to spare, the young man's new best friends come out of nowhere to save him so that he can make one of the most unlikely lucky shots of all lucky shots, thus destroying the Death Star and saving everyone he loves. How about that for a story?!
I think I've always been drawn to that ultimate story. Star Wars set the bar so high for most kids of my generation that I think we've all been trying to top it ever since. Bigger explosions! Bigger suspense! More sexy damsels! Better looking space pirates! Better dialog! Better special fx! But never that sheer surprise of that story that seems so familiar to us and yet was something we never saw coming. You can't outdo that. Once it's been done, you have to find something else that is even better - but not the same.
LOST was an original story too. A group of survivors of a plane crash trapped on a mysterious island. The story dealt with issues of life, death, redemption, betrayal, love, etc... all the good things a story ought to deal with. And yet, when it came time to go big or go home, many of the show's fans felt as if LOST had let them down. What expectations did they have for the show's finale, I wonder?
LOST was a fantasy and a bit of fluff, but it dealt with some heady human issues. Unfortunately for its ultimate success, it's formula was always to keep something back - to hide some aspect of its truth and wisdom from viewers so that they kept coming back for more... but also, by hinting that there was some other truth and wisdom hidden away from the audience, the show promised its audience some answers to things that quite frankly could not have answers without improving on real life. I mean, really, what did the audience think the writers were going to disclose about the Island that would have solved all the shows mysteries and explain its mythology and mystery all in one fell swoop to the satisfaction of all people? Such expectations about a fictional show are at best, unrealistic. And those few writers that have had the misfortune of trying to meet those expectations have ultimately fallen on the sword of hubris.
I bring all of this up because there is one story that trumps both of these stories, and the best part is that its a true story. A true story that is more heart pounding, thrilling and entertaining than Star Wars and that has an ending that beats the mystery and thrills of LOST? Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying.
I think the story is somewhat familiar to you all. A world of corruption. A once proud race brought to ruin by its own greed. An oppressive regime. A people crying out to be saved. And, of course, the all important prophecy of a savior that will bring the people out of ruin and defeat the evil empire! That is the background in which we find our savior Jesus Christ on the road to Jerusalem after three years of fulfilling the prophecies concerning him.
But this is where our true story diverges from the rest and that is what makes our story so much better than any human scripted drama. Because like most humans today who pay $12 to go to a theater for some light entertainment, the people of his time expected Jesus to arrive in Jerusalem and administer the beat downs of all beat downs on the corrupt rulers of the City and the oppressive Empire that held them all in thrall. They were expecting a kind of real life battle royal - where Jesus, the savior, would bring forth all the power of Heaven to bear on the earthly power of Rome in a winner takes all kind of fight. And Jesus did enter Jerusalem as a mighty and triumphant savior and the people did rejoice. But what they didn't know, and what most people still can't understand, is that this story had a very different ending in mind - an ending that would solve all the mysteries and explain its mythology and mystery all in one fell swoop to the satisfaction of all the people.
Instead of liberating the people from Rome, Jesus liberated them from death. And in order to do that, he had to be arrested, tried, beaten, and horribly murdered by the same corrupt officials that everyone had been expecting Jesus to beat down. There was no last second reprieve of Jesus crying out, "Father, please!" and then God dumping Pontius Pilate down an endless pit into the center of the Death Star. This was no fake sacrifice. This hero really died. Brutally. And his followers were scattered, demoralized, heartbroken and probably hunted.
But the conclusion is what makes this story incredible... Jesus defeats death and returns to Earth even more triumphant and radiant than anything the people could have ever imagined.
The thing that always strikes me about this story is that it is the Ultimate Story. There is no other story like it, nor can there be. Anything similar will always fail in comparison to the original... and so the only way the story can be topped is by finding something that is even more over the top, even more truthful, even more moral, even more compassionate, even more hopeful, even more good news than this one. From a writers stand point, I can assure you that no such story exists - nor will it ever.
So when people question my faith by throwing logic at me - how can you believe a story that's 2000 years old and often contradictory in parts? - I think about what they have to say and then I remember that tearing down a story is nothing unless you can find a better story to replace it. I can find flaws in Shakespeare, but that takes away nothing from the brilliance of his prose. I can find flaws in the Bible (or at least they seem like flaws to me) but these flaws can not diminish the fact that the story of Jesus is so perfect and so integral to history and explanations of life that no amount of flaws can diminish its essential truth.
Or to come full circle... this is a story you just can't make up. We're human. We just don't create stories that are better than the truth.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Adventure Saturday #2 - The Hiller Air Museum in San Carlos
On Saturday, February 18th, my brother and I went to the Hiller Air Museum in San Carlos. The museum has a fascinating collection focusing on the history of air travel, with specific emphasis on the San Francisco Bay Area. I learned so much about airplanes and air travel in the course of one morning that I was ready to don some goggles and hop in a WWI Biplane by the time I was done. I highly recommend this museum to any and all people who want to learn more about air travel.
Our day started with a nice quiet drive to the Hiller Air Museum. Considering the Bay Bridge being shut down this last weekend for construction, we were surprised at such a quiet and fast journey to the museum arriving just a few minutes before it opened.
The Museum, itself, is housed in one large building - about the size of a modern warehouse or very large car dealership. As you enter the vast main lobby, to the left you will find an incredible gift shop, to the right you will find the main exhibit space, and in the lobby itself there is a glass paneled meeting room (for lectures and such) and a few large aircraft dangling overhead.
The tickets for the museum can be purchased in the gift shop. Now normally I'm against such a blatant grab for dollars by forcing people into the gift shop in order to enter the building, but in this case I'll let it slide because this was quite the gift shop. Almost any kind of airplane or aircraft related item could be found in this gift shop - all of it quality stuff and reasonably priced. I think we spent a good fifteen minutes walking through the gift shop looking at all the wonderful stuff to buy. It actually put me in a great mood for the rest of the museum. We bought our tickets ($11 for adults), got our wristbands, and headed back into the lobby area.
We were immediately met by one of the museum's very friendly and helpful volunteers. He asked us if we'd been to the museum before and when we said we hadn't, he gave us the 19 Cent tour... pointing out where everything was and then showing us on the map. I hadn't even walked into the exhibit space yet and I was already impressed.
We crossed the lobby and entered the exhibit space. The various aircraft and exhibits in the space are presented, more or less, in chronological order from dates prior to the Wright Brothers flight all the way up to the future of air travel and NASA research area. The entire exhibition space is open air with many aircraft being so large as having to be suspended from the ceiling. There were plenty of information cards, plus a cellphone audio tour available at no extra charge.
I learned more about the history of aircraft in the first twenty feet than I had ever learned at the Air and Space Museum in Washington D.C.. Some of the more interesting things that I saw at the museum - a giant picture of a very early aerial exhibition at the area now occupied by Tanforan Shopping Mall, the actual mock up of the nose cone of the SSST plane that was never built by Boeing, a hover disc simulator that Hiller had been building for the military but that was never put into service (think of a one man hovercraft that can fly and you kind of get the idea), and an eastern bloc communist fighter craft still being built today that is so cheap that many westerners (with lots of money) are buying them as pleasure craft - imagine owning your own Top Gun fighter craft!
Upstairs in the main exhibition hall is a observation area where you can see the planes suspended from the ceiling at closer to eye level. There is also an area set aside for flying computer aircraft simulators (much like the ones you can buy for your computer at home) with the assistance of an actual flight instructor. It's an extra cost - $3.00 per 20 minute session - but you can get actual flight instruction while you do it. Naturally, this is where the kids gravitated.
Back into the lobby, looking for Dave, I discovered a vast aircraft maintenance and preservation lab that could be observed through glass. At the back of the lobby there is an open air courtyard that opens on to the San Carlos airfield. In the courtyard is the nose-cone section of a real life 747 jumbo jet. My brother Dave called me on my cell phone from the cockpit of the jet as he was busy playing with all of the myriad controls. I walked out to the back of the jet and entered the nose cone section at approximately first class.
The nose cone has the entire first class section of the 747 - both upstairs and downstairs - as well as the cockpit. I enjoyed sitting in first class - a section I doubt I will ever visit in real life - while my brother pretended being a pilot. Closest thing I've had to a playground experience in 30 years!
We finished our tour in the gift shop again where I managed to avoid temptation... mostly. I shall definitely be returning to this museum in the future. I really had a great visit and am ready to go back and learn some more.
Our day started with a nice quiet drive to the Hiller Air Museum. Considering the Bay Bridge being shut down this last weekend for construction, we were surprised at such a quiet and fast journey to the museum arriving just a few minutes before it opened.
The Museum, itself, is housed in one large building - about the size of a modern warehouse or very large car dealership. As you enter the vast main lobby, to the left you will find an incredible gift shop, to the right you will find the main exhibit space, and in the lobby itself there is a glass paneled meeting room (for lectures and such) and a few large aircraft dangling overhead.
The tickets for the museum can be purchased in the gift shop. Now normally I'm against such a blatant grab for dollars by forcing people into the gift shop in order to enter the building, but in this case I'll let it slide because this was quite the gift shop. Almost any kind of airplane or aircraft related item could be found in this gift shop - all of it quality stuff and reasonably priced. I think we spent a good fifteen minutes walking through the gift shop looking at all the wonderful stuff to buy. It actually put me in a great mood for the rest of the museum. We bought our tickets ($11 for adults), got our wristbands, and headed back into the lobby area.
We were immediately met by one of the museum's very friendly and helpful volunteers. He asked us if we'd been to the museum before and when we said we hadn't, he gave us the 19 Cent tour... pointing out where everything was and then showing us on the map. I hadn't even walked into the exhibit space yet and I was already impressed.
We crossed the lobby and entered the exhibit space. The various aircraft and exhibits in the space are presented, more or less, in chronological order from dates prior to the Wright Brothers flight all the way up to the future of air travel and NASA research area. The entire exhibition space is open air with many aircraft being so large as having to be suspended from the ceiling. There were plenty of information cards, plus a cellphone audio tour available at no extra charge.
I learned more about the history of aircraft in the first twenty feet than I had ever learned at the Air and Space Museum in Washington D.C.. Some of the more interesting things that I saw at the museum - a giant picture of a very early aerial exhibition at the area now occupied by Tanforan Shopping Mall, the actual mock up of the nose cone of the SSST plane that was never built by Boeing, a hover disc simulator that Hiller had been building for the military but that was never put into service (think of a one man hovercraft that can fly and you kind of get the idea), and an eastern bloc communist fighter craft still being built today that is so cheap that many westerners (with lots of money) are buying them as pleasure craft - imagine owning your own Top Gun fighter craft!
Upstairs in the main exhibition hall is a observation area where you can see the planes suspended from the ceiling at closer to eye level. There is also an area set aside for flying computer aircraft simulators (much like the ones you can buy for your computer at home) with the assistance of an actual flight instructor. It's an extra cost - $3.00 per 20 minute session - but you can get actual flight instruction while you do it. Naturally, this is where the kids gravitated.
Back into the lobby, looking for Dave, I discovered a vast aircraft maintenance and preservation lab that could be observed through glass. At the back of the lobby there is an open air courtyard that opens on to the San Carlos airfield. In the courtyard is the nose-cone section of a real life 747 jumbo jet. My brother Dave called me on my cell phone from the cockpit of the jet as he was busy playing with all of the myriad controls. I walked out to the back of the jet and entered the nose cone section at approximately first class.
The nose cone has the entire first class section of the 747 - both upstairs and downstairs - as well as the cockpit. I enjoyed sitting in first class - a section I doubt I will ever visit in real life - while my brother pretended being a pilot. Closest thing I've had to a playground experience in 30 years!
We finished our tour in the gift shop again where I managed to avoid temptation... mostly. I shall definitely be returning to this museum in the future. I really had a great visit and am ready to go back and learn some more.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Adventure Saturday #1 - The Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa
First a little background: Consider this Season Two of Adventure Saturday. Season One was about four years ago and it was a video blog of my various "Saturday" adventures. I shot about six episodes, but I could never find a narrative that I liked in all that footage. It's probably something I'll throw on the website Archives section before too long. In the first season I visited Central Idaho for fishing on the Salmon River, Boot Jack Trail out of Muir Woods in Marin, Land's End Trail in San Francisco, Butano State Park near Pescadero, and took an Alaskan Cruise.
I always liked the idea of Adventure Saturday though and I recently realized that I was still going on these Saturday adventures even if I wasn't filming them. So I decided to continue the idea via blog. And now that you're caught up... on with Season Two.
This last Saturday, my brother and I decided to travel to far away Santa Rosa (60 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge) for a visit to the Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa. Neither of us had ever been to the Museum, so it was going to be a first time adventure for both of us.
Unfortunately we got off to a slow start on Saturday and by the time we reached our usual Marin breakfast place at The Bayside Cafe in Sausalito/Marin City, the restaurant parking lot was full. I had to skip my wonderful waffle and bacon and try to enjoy a McDonald's breakfast burrito at the nearby Seminary Drive location - definitely not an even exchange. However, we used the time at McDonalds to wisely download the directions to the museum onto our smart phones. And then, once we were done eating, off we went.
Depending on the traffic, driving north through Marin can either be a delight or a pain in the ass. Most Saturday's, however, its usually a nice drive. That was definitely the case this Saturday as it took us only a little over an hour to cover the 60 miles to Santa Rosa. Once off the exit, it was easy to follow the signs to the Museum which is located about ten blocks from the freeway.
The Museum is actually three buildings and two different parking areas. The first building you come to is a gift shop with all things Peanuts related. The second building is the Redwood Empire Ice Skating Rink that also houses the Warm Puppy coffee shop. In between these two buildings is the first parking area which mostly serves the ice skaters that are coming to the rink. The third building houses the museum itself and there is a museum specific parking lot behind the museum. All parking is free.
The Museum is two stories tall and has a courtyard in back and a garden/maze out front. Inside the museum there is a theater that shows Peanuts related cartoons all day long and also serves as a meeting space for guest speakers and artists. There is also a small museum specific gift shop off the main lobby. The rest of the museum is devoted entirely to the Peanuts and to its creator, Charles Schulz.
The first floor of the museum has a couple of rotating galleries of Peanuts strips as they relate to particular topics. On our trip, the first gallery was showing The Peanuts and Women In Sports, which covered how Charles Schulz and the Peanuts gang were strong advocates of Title IX and other women in sports. The second gallery was all about the Peanuts and Travel showing all the various strips where Snoopy went on visits to places all over the world and what prompted the travel.
The second floor of the museum is devoted to the life of Charles Schulz. In addition to the creation of the Peanuts, there is an excellent timeline of his life, many displays of the influences on his career, and finally, his entire office is preserved for you to see. The man had an excellent library.
There is a short film on the first floor that talks about the creation of the museum, but also gives some interesting facts on the daily life of Charles Schulz in Santa Rosa. He used to eat breakfast at the Warm Puppy Cafe and then go back to his house to work before heading back to the cafe for lunch and for a chance to watch the ice skaters on the rink. He also started and hosted an International Seniors Hockey Tournament every year and usually participated with his own team. This year the Tournament will draw over 50 teams from all over the world!
For lunch, I walked over to the Ice Skating Rink and went to the Warm Puppy Cafe and ordered a Tuna Fish sandwich - just like Charles Schulz used to eat every single day. There was a table still reserved for this kind and gentle genius. Outside the ice skating rink and cafe, many of the top ice skaters in the world have been invited to sign their name in the cement. It was fun to walk around the rink and find all the names of my favorites.
The entire museum would have taken all day to go through. Each of the strips are the normal original artwork size - about 1 by 3 feet and certainly easy enough to read. There are hundreds of them and plenty of information behind their design, and back story. That and all those wonderful Peanuts specials playing in the theater and you could easily get lost in Peanuty goodness. We decided to save something for our next visit.
The drive back was just as pleasant and we ended our Adventure Saturday with a nice drive down the Great Highway.
Next Saturday, we're headed to the Hiller Air Museum on Highway 101 near San Carlos. If you're interested in meeting us there, let me know.
Monday, February 06, 2012
I find my lack of faith disturbing...
First of all; the new website will not stop me from posting. Website is creative. Blog - decidedly less creative ;) But that brings me to my next blog post...
In cataloging all of the myriad projects I'm working on, I often give short shrift to the religious aspects of my life. Currently if I add up the long list of items that I do for my faith it might seem like a formidable pile o' stuff. Besides being an active church attender (a feat in and of itself in this hectic world), I am an active Church Elder and have recently been participating in the church on the regional level (San Francisco Presbytery) and the local level (San Francisco Urban Ministry group). Beyond that, I am a member of the choir and the bell choir, and am still an active participant in the Kenya Children Mission Project. As for other projects, I am still editing my KCMP video and am re-writing my church's Lenten play on the Last Supper. It seems like a lot except when stacked against all the other things I do.
Recently the KCMP has been discussing the disciplines we pledged ourselves to do as part of our solidarity with the Kenyan children and also as a way to seek a closer relationship with God. Of these disciplines, I do exactly NONE on a daily basis. On a monthly basis, I maybe do two or three. Despite having all of these "projects" that I do for my Church and for my God, when it comes to my own personal relationship with Christ, I really don't have much of one.
What it really comes down to is that fact that I lay my relationship down so that I can deal with "real" things and not intangible things that are little more than hocus pocus and wishful thinking. Prayer? Really? What does that accomplish? I be quiet and think things to an imaginary presence in my mind. That's not entirely true, of course. I've seen God's power in real life. I've felt his answers to prayer before. And yet, when push comes to shove and I need to decide whether to pray or whether to "accomplish" something, I choose my own power over God's every single time. My faith in God, it seems, only applies when I'm so far in over my head that I have nowhere else to turn.
It makes me wonder whether I am just human and flawed and failed or if I should be applying more effort to the task of turning my WHOLE life over to Christ and not just the parts that I can't do myself. Perhaps its a bit of both. God clearly wants me to write... He wouldn't have given me a talent for it otherwise. But at what point do I stop writing for me and starting writing for Him?
I will be returning to my disciplines in the near future and I hope that you'll find the time to pray for me so that I might discover the time to pray as well. In the meantime, God, can you please allow me to be reminded every once in a while of your awesome power? (I fear the answer to this question... and that shows that my faith is active).
In cataloging all of the myriad projects I'm working on, I often give short shrift to the religious aspects of my life. Currently if I add up the long list of items that I do for my faith it might seem like a formidable pile o' stuff. Besides being an active church attender (a feat in and of itself in this hectic world), I am an active Church Elder and have recently been participating in the church on the regional level (San Francisco Presbytery) and the local level (San Francisco Urban Ministry group). Beyond that, I am a member of the choir and the bell choir, and am still an active participant in the Kenya Children Mission Project. As for other projects, I am still editing my KCMP video and am re-writing my church's Lenten play on the Last Supper. It seems like a lot except when stacked against all the other things I do.
Recently the KCMP has been discussing the disciplines we pledged ourselves to do as part of our solidarity with the Kenyan children and also as a way to seek a closer relationship with God. Of these disciplines, I do exactly NONE on a daily basis. On a monthly basis, I maybe do two or three. Despite having all of these "projects" that I do for my Church and for my God, when it comes to my own personal relationship with Christ, I really don't have much of one.
What it really comes down to is that fact that I lay my relationship down so that I can deal with "real" things and not intangible things that are little more than hocus pocus and wishful thinking. Prayer? Really? What does that accomplish? I be quiet and think things to an imaginary presence in my mind. That's not entirely true, of course. I've seen God's power in real life. I've felt his answers to prayer before. And yet, when push comes to shove and I need to decide whether to pray or whether to "accomplish" something, I choose my own power over God's every single time. My faith in God, it seems, only applies when I'm so far in over my head that I have nowhere else to turn.
It makes me wonder whether I am just human and flawed and failed or if I should be applying more effort to the task of turning my WHOLE life over to Christ and not just the parts that I can't do myself. Perhaps its a bit of both. God clearly wants me to write... He wouldn't have given me a talent for it otherwise. But at what point do I stop writing for me and starting writing for Him?
I will be returning to my disciplines in the near future and I hope that you'll find the time to pray for me so that I might discover the time to pray as well. In the meantime, God, can you please allow me to be reminded every once in a while of your awesome power? (I fear the answer to this question... and that shows that my faith is active).
Thursday, February 02, 2012
I Get Knocked Down...
So the extremely brief "relationship" ended before it really got started. I'm not angry about that, just sad because it didn't work out. Still, I'm not sure it would have worked anyway. What I find depressing about the entire experience is the cumulative nature of my defeats. It can feel, at times, that I'm always on the losing end of life.
But I think that's what makes human's human. Its not our victories, its our defeats. Its not our triumphs, but our failures. That the ultimate human being humbled himself to the point of being convicted and sentenced to death while being blameless in anything shows us this dichotomy - fully human (can't get much more of a fail than being rounded up by a mob, beaten up, star in a gloriously fake sham trial, sentenced to death and killed in just about the most gruesome manner possible), and fully God (and yet, at any moment, He could have stopped the sun in the sky, breathed on any person in Jerusalem and turned them to dust, or called down an entire army of angels to not only save Himself but to destroy anyone that might have sought to harm Him). He didn't. He died. He allowed Himself to be murdered - brutally - and with all the weight of the greatest empire the world has ever known behind the murderers. Talk about your ultimate perspective test. Compared to crucifixion, everything else seems pretty hunky-dory.
Time to soldier on. I can pick myself up. Dust myself off. And move on to bigger and better things. For a guy who draws on his past so often in writing stories, I sure don't like to live there.
Oh, and what a perfect time to plug my revamped web-site. It's simple. It's straight-forward. And so far, it is filled entirely with new content. So go there to read my billion dollar franchise idea (Die, Bond, Die), or to see my new teaser trailer or behind the scenes look at The Amazing Mole Too, or to read up on the other projects winding their way forward (like my Kenya Children's Mission Project DVD - so almost done! - and my Folk Music documentary). Here is the website: www.tacopdet.com
Enjoy!
But I think that's what makes human's human. Its not our victories, its our defeats. Its not our triumphs, but our failures. That the ultimate human being humbled himself to the point of being convicted and sentenced to death while being blameless in anything shows us this dichotomy - fully human (can't get much more of a fail than being rounded up by a mob, beaten up, star in a gloriously fake sham trial, sentenced to death and killed in just about the most gruesome manner possible), and fully God (and yet, at any moment, He could have stopped the sun in the sky, breathed on any person in Jerusalem and turned them to dust, or called down an entire army of angels to not only save Himself but to destroy anyone that might have sought to harm Him). He didn't. He died. He allowed Himself to be murdered - brutally - and with all the weight of the greatest empire the world has ever known behind the murderers. Talk about your ultimate perspective test. Compared to crucifixion, everything else seems pretty hunky-dory.
Time to soldier on. I can pick myself up. Dust myself off. And move on to bigger and better things. For a guy who draws on his past so often in writing stories, I sure don't like to live there.
Oh, and what a perfect time to plug my revamped web-site. It's simple. It's straight-forward. And so far, it is filled entirely with new content. So go there to read my billion dollar franchise idea (Die, Bond, Die), or to see my new teaser trailer or behind the scenes look at The Amazing Mole Too, or to read up on the other projects winding their way forward (like my Kenya Children's Mission Project DVD - so almost done! - and my Folk Music documentary). Here is the website: www.tacopdet.com
Enjoy!
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
How empty are you?
From Journey Inward, Outward, and Forward - the radical vision of the Church of the Savior by Jeff Bailey:
Convicted.
I constantly have to remind myself that the name of this blog is ICON... as in, I con nobody but myself. It is easy to take a trip to Kenya and ride that wave of self-righteous feeling for a few years. I've DONE my part. I'm so far ahead of all those Wall Street capitalists! But the reason I feel the way I do about Kenya was precisely because I did empty myself (and my bank account ;) to make that journey. It was an act of faith. But, so what? Did I remain empty?
No, I filled myself up with lots of other non-Christian junk. This is my own doing really. My re-immersion into American culture was part and parcel with my Kenyan transformation. As one made me more aware of the plight of third world countries in a way that has to be experienced, the other was a reminder to myself that I live in the greatest country on Earth and, gosh darn it, it's good to be king. (Hmm... I just had a thought. I have a character in the novel I'm writing describe someone just like me (in a poor light, to be sure). Maybe I was channeling some of my internalization?)
I realize now that I've been coasting. I've been going back to the world when I had gone so far to remove myself from it. Its time to rededicate my life to God's purpose... again... for the zillionth time. I hope I haven't used up my 70 times 7 Forgiveness Plan yet.
The breaking free of our "addiction to the culture" is something the Church of the Savior gives great attention to. Says Gordon: "Most of us are living, to some degree, as addicted persons, striving anxiously after power and money and prestige and relevance, trapped in the turbulence of wanting more. These addictions are so subtle for most of us that we have the illusion of being free people when in actuality we are immersed in society's expectations. We have given ourselves to God, but who decides what we do with our lives? Usually, we do. We are subtle control freaks, truly believing we are turning over to God but demanding a minimum of comforts, whether it be good health or a secure home or caring friends. We are addicted to having more and more comfort, which society says we deserve."
"We are addicted to things that money and power can buy. We spend more on entertainment and pet care and toiletries that on the needs of children barely existing in poverty; we strive after positions that seem important in our jobs and churches, whether or not God is calling us to them; we long to be noticed and honored, superficially if necessary. We forget that Jesus, 'though he was in the form of God, did not consider equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself.' Our culture promotes a constant filling up, but our disciplines will draw us toward greater emptiness, so that we can be better prepared for obedience and, ultimately, for finding our place in God's plan - finding true relevance."
Convicted.
I constantly have to remind myself that the name of this blog is ICON... as in, I con nobody but myself. It is easy to take a trip to Kenya and ride that wave of self-righteous feeling for a few years. I've DONE my part. I'm so far ahead of all those Wall Street capitalists! But the reason I feel the way I do about Kenya was precisely because I did empty myself (and my bank account ;) to make that journey. It was an act of faith. But, so what? Did I remain empty?
No, I filled myself up with lots of other non-Christian junk. This is my own doing really. My re-immersion into American culture was part and parcel with my Kenyan transformation. As one made me more aware of the plight of third world countries in a way that has to be experienced, the other was a reminder to myself that I live in the greatest country on Earth and, gosh darn it, it's good to be king. (Hmm... I just had a thought. I have a character in the novel I'm writing describe someone just like me (in a poor light, to be sure). Maybe I was channeling some of my internalization?)
I realize now that I've been coasting. I've been going back to the world when I had gone so far to remove myself from it. Its time to rededicate my life to God's purpose... again... for the zillionth time. I hope I haven't used up my 70 times 7 Forgiveness Plan yet.
Monday, January 23, 2012
The Nicholas Sparks Formula... in reverse...
Everyone knows the Nicholas Sparks formula. For an author that has written such modern love stories as The Notebook, Message in a Bottle, and Nights in Rodanthe, the formula is pervasive and yet never seems to limit the enjoyment of the story. Boy meets Girl. Boy and Girl fall in love. Tragedy befalls Boy (or Girl). Love endures.
Now normally I'm not one who thinks of formulas as being anything other than author-made shapings of the universe to serve a creative need. Nicholas Sparks writes to his formula because, quite frankly, it makes him gazillions of dollars. I wish I had thought of this formula years ago. However, in my case, I have quite a different formula in mind - one that actually happens... in real life... to me... every single time.
I call it my curse. It goes something like this. Boy meets girl (or is set up on a blind date... either way). Boy and girl agree to go out. Boy shows up and... tragedy befalls... always... on first date. It's actually comical in some ways.
So, after many years of avoiding this curse, I finally met someone that I thought it would be fun to hang out with. Now came the tricky part. I had to figure out a way to hang out together without bringing the curse. I very carefully phrased the invitation as a friendly affair - two chums kicking back for a nice lunch and a movie. Totally casual. Everything cool. Best buds. Nothing more, oh fates... nothing more.
Well, to make a long story short, Fate wasn't fooled. On Saturday, I drove over to pick up my "Not-A-Date!" for our little friendly adventure. She was waiting for me out in front of her apartment looking rather beautiful in a white sweater and pants. I pulled up in front and unlocked the door... and in her eagerness to get started on our not-date, she reached down and yanked open the door so fast that it smacked her right in the face.
I was horrified. Was she okay? She climbed into the car and sat down and checked herself out - a small gash on her face, a tiny amount of blood, and a lot of embarrasment, but other than that, she was fine. It was only then that I realized that the curse had struck again. No matter how much I was trying to pretend that this wasn't a full on date, no matter how much I was trying to keep hidden the fact that I liked her potentially as more than just a friend, Fate had seen right through my obfuscating shenanigans and walloped my date with the curse anyway.
Needless to say, I laughed. It was a mixture of relief that she was okay and a realization that fate was confirming that this was, in fact, a date. Besides which, if I was going to have the curse hit, the first ten seconds of a date are infinitely preferable to the last ten seconds.
We had a great lunch at a Japanese restaurant. Then we went to see "Hugo" at a local movie theater. Afterward, I drove her to the mall where she needed to get her sunglasses repaired and then I took her home. No other calamity befell our adventures for the day - in my book that almost counts as a perfect first date.
Now, next time, I will lock the car door, get out of my car, and come around and open the door for her. Of course, fate is tricky. Who knows what else might happen? Stay tuned...
Now normally I'm not one who thinks of formulas as being anything other than author-made shapings of the universe to serve a creative need. Nicholas Sparks writes to his formula because, quite frankly, it makes him gazillions of dollars. I wish I had thought of this formula years ago. However, in my case, I have quite a different formula in mind - one that actually happens... in real life... to me... every single time.
I call it my curse. It goes something like this. Boy meets girl (or is set up on a blind date... either way). Boy and girl agree to go out. Boy shows up and... tragedy befalls... always... on first date. It's actually comical in some ways.
So, after many years of avoiding this curse, I finally met someone that I thought it would be fun to hang out with. Now came the tricky part. I had to figure out a way to hang out together without bringing the curse. I very carefully phrased the invitation as a friendly affair - two chums kicking back for a nice lunch and a movie. Totally casual. Everything cool. Best buds. Nothing more, oh fates... nothing more.
Well, to make a long story short, Fate wasn't fooled. On Saturday, I drove over to pick up my "Not-A-Date!" for our little friendly adventure. She was waiting for me out in front of her apartment looking rather beautiful in a white sweater and pants. I pulled up in front and unlocked the door... and in her eagerness to get started on our not-date, she reached down and yanked open the door so fast that it smacked her right in the face.
I was horrified. Was she okay? She climbed into the car and sat down and checked herself out - a small gash on her face, a tiny amount of blood, and a lot of embarrasment, but other than that, she was fine. It was only then that I realized that the curse had struck again. No matter how much I was trying to pretend that this wasn't a full on date, no matter how much I was trying to keep hidden the fact that I liked her potentially as more than just a friend, Fate had seen right through my obfuscating shenanigans and walloped my date with the curse anyway.
Needless to say, I laughed. It was a mixture of relief that she was okay and a realization that fate was confirming that this was, in fact, a date. Besides which, if I was going to have the curse hit, the first ten seconds of a date are infinitely preferable to the last ten seconds.
We had a great lunch at a Japanese restaurant. Then we went to see "Hugo" at a local movie theater. Afterward, I drove her to the mall where she needed to get her sunglasses repaired and then I took her home. No other calamity befell our adventures for the day - in my book that almost counts as a perfect first date.
Now, next time, I will lock the car door, get out of my car, and come around and open the door for her. Of course, fate is tricky. Who knows what else might happen? Stay tuned...
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Overcoming and Forgiving (Lord, its not easy being cool...)
I used to drink the kool-aid. My Dad's first computer was a TRS-80 - the first home computer on the market. It wasn't a toy, but I played with it all the same. He taught me how to program. When I went to Jr. High, they had just been given a grant of brand new Apple II's. None of the teachers knew what the hell to do with a computer. Apple was aggressively trying to capture the education market. They placed the computer in the library where, you know, the nerds hung out. I taught many of the school's teachers how to program the Apple Computers. They were sleek, star treky cool. It was a love affair - a doomed love affair, as it turned out.
All through high school I was an Apple lover. I had my own personal Apple IIe that I loved to death. I would be up until all hours of the morning typing away all my great stories and an occasional homework assignment. When I graduated from high school, my Apple IIe went with me to college and then to the Navy. I plunked away on it and thought that our love would never end. When my printer finally crapped out while I was stationed in Hawaii, I bought a brand new one. It was like taking my cherry red Lambourghini and making it into a convertible. That was the best printer I've ever owned.
I got out of the Navy and went back to school. Five days after the warranty expired on my great and wondrous Apple printer, it died. BAM! Just like that. I tried to fix it. No luck. I tried to call Apple to see what I could do. They couldn't give me the time of day. I was in despair. I left for Idaho State with my computer and my busted printer and hoped that I could somehow get it working again. That didn't work. So I signed up for an Apple loan to get a new Apple computer and printer... and I was denied. Denied. My love affair was dashed and my sincere love for all things Apple turned into anger, frustration, and then hatred. I refused to use their products ever again.
Today, I read with obvious disgust the news that Apple wants to once again corner the educational market by putting text books on to Ipads. Duh! Naturally! The multi-billion dollar text book industry would be beholden to Apple. It was a real no-brainer for Apple.
But, suddenly, in the midst of all my distrust and long standing hatred for Apple, I had another realization - a glimpse back to that nerdy library loving student in Jr. High playing with his Apple computer during his lunch hour. In a rush of strange feeling and long lost nostalgia combined with a clear vision of students flipping through cool educational software and interactive books on their sleek star-treky type Ipads, I melted. I knew that despite the horrible customer service that I'd received from my favorite computer company years ago, this idea was a perfect one - a synthesis of modern technology and educational reform that is long overdue.
There are problems with Apple's proposal, but the gist of it is dead on. I, for one, think all students in America should be replacing their old text books with Ipad's.
And that's the way forgiveness begins.
All through high school I was an Apple lover. I had my own personal Apple IIe that I loved to death. I would be up until all hours of the morning typing away all my great stories and an occasional homework assignment. When I graduated from high school, my Apple IIe went with me to college and then to the Navy. I plunked away on it and thought that our love would never end. When my printer finally crapped out while I was stationed in Hawaii, I bought a brand new one. It was like taking my cherry red Lambourghini and making it into a convertible. That was the best printer I've ever owned.
I got out of the Navy and went back to school. Five days after the warranty expired on my great and wondrous Apple printer, it died. BAM! Just like that. I tried to fix it. No luck. I tried to call Apple to see what I could do. They couldn't give me the time of day. I was in despair. I left for Idaho State with my computer and my busted printer and hoped that I could somehow get it working again. That didn't work. So I signed up for an Apple loan to get a new Apple computer and printer... and I was denied. Denied. My love affair was dashed and my sincere love for all things Apple turned into anger, frustration, and then hatred. I refused to use their products ever again.
Today, I read with obvious disgust the news that Apple wants to once again corner the educational market by putting text books on to Ipads. Duh! Naturally! The multi-billion dollar text book industry would be beholden to Apple. It was a real no-brainer for Apple.
But, suddenly, in the midst of all my distrust and long standing hatred for Apple, I had another realization - a glimpse back to that nerdy library loving student in Jr. High playing with his Apple computer during his lunch hour. In a rush of strange feeling and long lost nostalgia combined with a clear vision of students flipping through cool educational software and interactive books on their sleek star-treky type Ipads, I melted. I knew that despite the horrible customer service that I'd received from my favorite computer company years ago, this idea was a perfect one - a synthesis of modern technology and educational reform that is long overdue.
There are problems with Apple's proposal, but the gist of it is dead on. I, for one, think all students in America should be replacing their old text books with Ipad's.
And that's the way forgiveness begins.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Sacrificial Lamb
Something occurred to me yesterday while I was thinking about my play and I wanted to run this past my very smart readers for comment.
Its perhaps not a coincidence that the Last Supper was at the time of a passover meal. Passover, after all, was to be comemmorated annually by the Jews as a remembrance of the fact that God directly intervened to free them from bondage and to begin their journey to the Promised Land. Jews were required to kill a young lamb without defect and spread his blood on the lintel of the door or be killed. God did this to honor the covenant he had made with Abraham.
Jesus, of course, takes the opportunity of the passover feast to create a new covenant with his disciples - a covenant of wine and bread, symbolizing blood and body. Jesus then offers himself up as the young lamb without defect to be sacrificed so that whosoever believes in him shall have everlasting life. This being the final culmination of the law and the prophets.
Anyway, I hope you can get the gist of what I'm saying here. I'm curious to read what you all think about this.
Its perhaps not a coincidence that the Last Supper was at the time of a passover meal. Passover, after all, was to be comemmorated annually by the Jews as a remembrance of the fact that God directly intervened to free them from bondage and to begin their journey to the Promised Land. Jews were required to kill a young lamb without defect and spread his blood on the lintel of the door or be killed. God did this to honor the covenant he had made with Abraham.
Jesus, of course, takes the opportunity of the passover feast to create a new covenant with his disciples - a covenant of wine and bread, symbolizing blood and body. Jesus then offers himself up as the young lamb without defect to be sacrificed so that whosoever believes in him shall have everlasting life. This being the final culmination of the law and the prophets.
Anyway, I hope you can get the gist of what I'm saying here. I'm curious to read what you all think about this.
Monday, January 16, 2012
The Emotional Journey to The Last Supper
I've been tasked with updating my The Last Supper play that we performed at my church last year. Considering that it was my first play and that I was sorting out a complex story in a short space, it wasn't performed so much as workshopped. I took a great many notes from my co-Directors and vowed that I would return a much pared down version of the play this year.
But in starting the re-writing of the play, I realized that it wasn't enough to just take the stuff I'd written before and shorten it. While I do need to shorten the play, I also need to still have a valid journey for the audience to follow whether they be Christians early on their walk or those who have walked around the block more than a few times. This means that I, once again, will need to reexamine this oft told tale and find a new "shorter" relevant story that I can tell while still constrained by the format issues and other restrictions placed upon me from the earlier version.
To wit: I need to introduce all 12 disciples and show the events leading up to and including the Last Supper (and this year I also wish to add the Garden of Gethsemane) and I need to do it in half the time.
But this post isn't about the literary journey I will now embark upon, but upon the (very abbreviated) spiritual journey I must take in order to tell this story once again.
While I love the Christmas story and the Christmas season, from a writers standpoint Holy Week is way more compelling for story telling purposes. Here you have a group of men that have been together for nearly three years coming into Jerusalem to celebrate Passover together little knowing that their week will end tragically before turning miraculous. But here's the thing - I don't get to explore that last part of the story. I only get to tell the story up until the point of the betrayal. And that's what makes the story so compelling. If Jesus had gone to Jerusalem and just been arrested for inciting a riot, I'm not sure this story would have been as interesting. But no... he was betrayed... and by one of his own men.
We've seen this theme before - many times - in movies and television. The hero is taken out by one of his own men. I always find it hard to fathom. I've been on the losing end of many a fight, but I've never been betrayed by a friend before. And I've never had a reason to betray a friend either. I can understand the motivation from an intellectual point of view, but let's be honest - betrayal is almost always emotionally motivated.
What could have been Judas's emotional motivation? Greed? Jealousy? Some sort of twisted misplaced love?
I know that the rest of the disciples were completely perplexed at the idea that anyone would betray Jesus. Their emotional journeys are a little harder to map because everyone has their own insecurities and internal questions that they need to answer. In a good story, thought, words, actions, and emotions all follow the same pattern - so that what a character does is part thought, part word, part action and part emotion. Or, in other words, what a person does is who that person is. Braveheart refuses to ask for mercy at the end because that is who he is. On a deep level we understand his thinking, his lack of words, his actions, and his emotions. To try and capture that sort of journey for the disciples in half the time... well, it's fun to try.
I think writing this play the first time through taught me the story in a way that I had never actually understood it. But this time, to perfect the play, I need to own it. I need to be not just the fly on the wall, but the thirteenth disciple (the one painting the group portrait ;) who explains the story in a way that makes it relevant to today without changing the story one bit.
Oh... and I have to deliver a final copy in like three weeks. It's time to put on some track shoes... this is going to be an intense, but short, journey...
But in starting the re-writing of the play, I realized that it wasn't enough to just take the stuff I'd written before and shorten it. While I do need to shorten the play, I also need to still have a valid journey for the audience to follow whether they be Christians early on their walk or those who have walked around the block more than a few times. This means that I, once again, will need to reexamine this oft told tale and find a new "shorter" relevant story that I can tell while still constrained by the format issues and other restrictions placed upon me from the earlier version.
To wit: I need to introduce all 12 disciples and show the events leading up to and including the Last Supper (and this year I also wish to add the Garden of Gethsemane) and I need to do it in half the time.
But this post isn't about the literary journey I will now embark upon, but upon the (very abbreviated) spiritual journey I must take in order to tell this story once again.
While I love the Christmas story and the Christmas season, from a writers standpoint Holy Week is way more compelling for story telling purposes. Here you have a group of men that have been together for nearly three years coming into Jerusalem to celebrate Passover together little knowing that their week will end tragically before turning miraculous. But here's the thing - I don't get to explore that last part of the story. I only get to tell the story up until the point of the betrayal. And that's what makes the story so compelling. If Jesus had gone to Jerusalem and just been arrested for inciting a riot, I'm not sure this story would have been as interesting. But no... he was betrayed... and by one of his own men.
We've seen this theme before - many times - in movies and television. The hero is taken out by one of his own men. I always find it hard to fathom. I've been on the losing end of many a fight, but I've never been betrayed by a friend before. And I've never had a reason to betray a friend either. I can understand the motivation from an intellectual point of view, but let's be honest - betrayal is almost always emotionally motivated.
What could have been Judas's emotional motivation? Greed? Jealousy? Some sort of twisted misplaced love?
I know that the rest of the disciples were completely perplexed at the idea that anyone would betray Jesus. Their emotional journeys are a little harder to map because everyone has their own insecurities and internal questions that they need to answer. In a good story, thought, words, actions, and emotions all follow the same pattern - so that what a character does is part thought, part word, part action and part emotion. Or, in other words, what a person does is who that person is. Braveheart refuses to ask for mercy at the end because that is who he is. On a deep level we understand his thinking, his lack of words, his actions, and his emotions. To try and capture that sort of journey for the disciples in half the time... well, it's fun to try.
I think writing this play the first time through taught me the story in a way that I had never actually understood it. But this time, to perfect the play, I need to own it. I need to be not just the fly on the wall, but the thirteenth disciple (the one painting the group portrait ;) who explains the story in a way that makes it relevant to today without changing the story one bit.
Oh... and I have to deliver a final copy in like three weeks. It's time to put on some track shoes... this is going to be an intense, but short, journey...
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Spontaneous Faith
A man walks up to you on the street. He's clearly seen better days. He asks you if you've got money cause he's hungry. Do you... A) Give him the money, no questions asked. B) Take him somewhere to get a meal. C) Pat your pockets, mumble something about not having any money, and walk past him. D) Ignore him.
Now, let's be honest here... Sure, we'd all like to answer A or B to every single guy that walks up to you on the street, but I'm guessing that the vast majority of the time we actually answer C or D. Does this make us bad people?
Actually, that's not the question I want to answer, and its not the blog I want to write. You see, the short answer should be that we answer A every single time - without thought or question. Lord, when did we see you hungry and on the streets and refuse to buy you food? But that's a guilt trip that none of us want to consider. And yet, consider it we do. In that split second of time before we roll off one of four answers, our minds run through an entire gamut of questions. Who is this guy? Why is he hungry? Is he a drug dealer? Will he harm me? How much money do I have? Should I even take out my wallet? What's the right thing to do? Am I being a bad person? Will I be a good person if I give him money? Do I have time for this?
If you read my last blog post you may recognize this pattern of behavior. In my writer's mind this is what I call looking for the perfect answer to the situation. And yet, whether its a homeless guy on the street asking me for a sandwich or a potential girlfriend standing in front of me and I'm contemplating asking her out, the endless amount of questioning all point to the same set of insecurities.
The only thing human beings really want in life is to be loved unconditionally. Since we are all gravely disappointed in this desire, we form neurosies about love, connection, and trust. We know that humans being human means that there is nobody on this planet that will ever love us unconditionally. As a result, our minds put up barriers and tests and all sorts of flotsam and jetsam that prevent us from ever loving anyone else unconditionally as well.
BUT, that doesn't mean that unconditional love doesn't exist. God has unconditional love for us. So much love, in fact, that He sent His only begotten son, Jesus Christ to us and then allowed us to kill him.
Apparently, human beings can be counted on to kill those things that threaten us with the one thing we most desire. I've seen it play out again and again and again. The more someone loves and trusts someone else, the more they try to sabotage that relationship in some sort of misguided attempt at proving that their love is unconditional.
Anyway, God loves us unconditionally. When we desire unconditional love, we desire God. That's it. That's the only place you're ever going to get it. God IS Love. LOVE is God. Quite frankly, its hard enough to believe in God, let alone believe in the idea that God has unconditional love for us - but that's because we're human and, because we're human, we have this misguided desire to prove that God's love is unconditional.
What the correct answer to the first question asked is - and this is going to be hard to wrap your noodle around - that this is not a question. At heart you know that God desires you to love your neighbors as yourself. If you were hungry, you'd get something to eat. If you saw a guy that was hungry, therefore, you should get him something to eat. No questions need to be asked. You'd just do it as easily as you breath, or think, or speak. Because you'd be so in sync with God's love that you wouldn't have any questions to ask. Your faith, then, would be spontaneous... ingrained... part of you in such a way that thought becomes deed at the same moment.
Abraham, perhaps the greatest of humans when it comes to faith, was asked to drop everything and move to another country. He didn't bat an eye. Okay, he said, and he started to pack.
Me? It'd take me six months just to plan the trip. And then another year or two to raise money to go. And then finally, I'd pack up, send out change of address cards, attend several farewell parties, give a few speeches on the importance of my journey, blog about it a zillion times, make sure my camera was charged... before I finally took one step out in faith.
Sorry for the rambling... but this post was anything but spontaneous. I've been thinking about it for a while... perhaps a while too long.
Now, let's be honest here... Sure, we'd all like to answer A or B to every single guy that walks up to you on the street, but I'm guessing that the vast majority of the time we actually answer C or D. Does this make us bad people?
Actually, that's not the question I want to answer, and its not the blog I want to write. You see, the short answer should be that we answer A every single time - without thought or question. Lord, when did we see you hungry and on the streets and refuse to buy you food? But that's a guilt trip that none of us want to consider. And yet, consider it we do. In that split second of time before we roll off one of four answers, our minds run through an entire gamut of questions. Who is this guy? Why is he hungry? Is he a drug dealer? Will he harm me? How much money do I have? Should I even take out my wallet? What's the right thing to do? Am I being a bad person? Will I be a good person if I give him money? Do I have time for this?
If you read my last blog post you may recognize this pattern of behavior. In my writer's mind this is what I call looking for the perfect answer to the situation. And yet, whether its a homeless guy on the street asking me for a sandwich or a potential girlfriend standing in front of me and I'm contemplating asking her out, the endless amount of questioning all point to the same set of insecurities.
The only thing human beings really want in life is to be loved unconditionally. Since we are all gravely disappointed in this desire, we form neurosies about love, connection, and trust. We know that humans being human means that there is nobody on this planet that will ever love us unconditionally. As a result, our minds put up barriers and tests and all sorts of flotsam and jetsam that prevent us from ever loving anyone else unconditionally as well.
BUT, that doesn't mean that unconditional love doesn't exist. God has unconditional love for us. So much love, in fact, that He sent His only begotten son, Jesus Christ to us and then allowed us to kill him.
Apparently, human beings can be counted on to kill those things that threaten us with the one thing we most desire. I've seen it play out again and again and again. The more someone loves and trusts someone else, the more they try to sabotage that relationship in some sort of misguided attempt at proving that their love is unconditional.
Anyway, God loves us unconditionally. When we desire unconditional love, we desire God. That's it. That's the only place you're ever going to get it. God IS Love. LOVE is God. Quite frankly, its hard enough to believe in God, let alone believe in the idea that God has unconditional love for us - but that's because we're human and, because we're human, we have this misguided desire to prove that God's love is unconditional.
What the correct answer to the first question asked is - and this is going to be hard to wrap your noodle around - that this is not a question. At heart you know that God desires you to love your neighbors as yourself. If you were hungry, you'd get something to eat. If you saw a guy that was hungry, therefore, you should get him something to eat. No questions need to be asked. You'd just do it as easily as you breath, or think, or speak. Because you'd be so in sync with God's love that you wouldn't have any questions to ask. Your faith, then, would be spontaneous... ingrained... part of you in such a way that thought becomes deed at the same moment.
Abraham, perhaps the greatest of humans when it comes to faith, was asked to drop everything and move to another country. He didn't bat an eye. Okay, he said, and he started to pack.
Me? It'd take me six months just to plan the trip. And then another year or two to raise money to go. And then finally, I'd pack up, send out change of address cards, attend several farewell parties, give a few speeches on the importance of my journey, blog about it a zillion times, make sure my camera was charged... before I finally took one step out in faith.
Sorry for the rambling... but this post was anything but spontaneous. I've been thinking about it for a while... perhaps a while too long.
Monday, January 09, 2012
Spontaneous Courage
There have only been a few instances in my life when I've delved into spontaneous courage - usually events thrust upon me that required me to make a choice right then and there. Some worked out well for most parties - when my Mom fell down the stairs I called 911 and then took care of her until the ambulance arrived, remaining calm all the way - and some worked out not so well - when I saw a young skiier stranded in a snow bank, I went in to help only to become trapped in the snow bank as well. The fact of the matter is that I didn't lack courage or overthink the situation, I just dove right on in.
For most people, jumping right into a situation is not an unusual trait. I was born differently though and given the gift of a writer's mind. The writer's mind never shuts down. Honestly, it is a 24/7 mind that keeps on churning out ideas even while I sleep. The problem that this creates is that I am used to thinking first and then acting. Now that might sound like a very good principle to follow, and generally it is, except that my writer's mind doesn't just think about things - it perfects them first.
The classic example of the way my mind works:
As a child, I would play make-believe, as kids are wont to do. But unlike other kids, I would replay my make-believe scenario over and over and over again until I got just the right amount of drama applied. It wasn't enough that my hero had to jump on the rocks to escape the lava. No. There had to be dinosaurs. And demons. And a sword that had to be snatched. And a big fight scene with the Devil where limbs were hacked off. And the world was about to end unless the hero saved the day. And there was a princess... I think you get the idea. Over and over again, I'd replay this make-believe scene until I had just the right amount of complexity and pathos for it to be the BEST scene ever.
Now apply that kind of thinking to something mundane like asking a girl out. Most guys would simply walk up to a girl, take a deep breath, and spit out the words. Five seconds later, win or lose, they guy would have his answer. Not me. I would run through every single scenario. Every possible win. Every possible failure. I would determine what was the best way to ask. When the best time to ask might be. What I should be wearing. Where I might do the asking. And how I might sound incredibly romantic and cool. I would do this in my head, over, and over, and over again. Each time looking for just the right amount of complexity and pathos for it to be the BEST attempt at asking a girl out ever.
I didn't ask a lot of girls out. Way too many possibilities of failure. It wasn't that I lacked courage, per se, but that I lacked the sort of courage that allowed me to brave the outcome regardless of the odds against me.
I lack the courage to let the chips fall where they may. I have been trying to control every single variable of every single situation my whole entire life. Its what writers do. We control the information we give you. We control what side of the characters you see. We purposefully keep things back, as if secrecy adds to entertainment value. And the real sad thing about it is, I can't imagine doing anything else. My brain is not wired to react differently.
Even now, as I write this, my mind is trying to churn out a way to ask a girl out. I'm creating some compelling reason as to why I should, or shouldn't do it. I'm putting it in writing, because that's what I do - it's the way I think. I simply can't walk up to her and say, "Hey, want to go out for lunch some time?" Or should I say something else? Maybe coffee? Dessert?
The problem with analyzing yourself is that you start to ask why you're analyzing yourself and then you question your need to analyze yourself and to analyze your analysis... etc, so on and so forth. It's an endless rabbit-hole that you've started down.
I'm working up some spontaneous courage. This, of course, will never work. Because for it to work, it would have to be spontaneous.
Maybe I should just settle for courage and leave the head shrinking to someone else?
For most people, jumping right into a situation is not an unusual trait. I was born differently though and given the gift of a writer's mind. The writer's mind never shuts down. Honestly, it is a 24/7 mind that keeps on churning out ideas even while I sleep. The problem that this creates is that I am used to thinking first and then acting. Now that might sound like a very good principle to follow, and generally it is, except that my writer's mind doesn't just think about things - it perfects them first.
The classic example of the way my mind works:
As a child, I would play make-believe, as kids are wont to do. But unlike other kids, I would replay my make-believe scenario over and over and over again until I got just the right amount of drama applied. It wasn't enough that my hero had to jump on the rocks to escape the lava. No. There had to be dinosaurs. And demons. And a sword that had to be snatched. And a big fight scene with the Devil where limbs were hacked off. And the world was about to end unless the hero saved the day. And there was a princess... I think you get the idea. Over and over again, I'd replay this make-believe scene until I had just the right amount of complexity and pathos for it to be the BEST scene ever.
Now apply that kind of thinking to something mundane like asking a girl out. Most guys would simply walk up to a girl, take a deep breath, and spit out the words. Five seconds later, win or lose, they guy would have his answer. Not me. I would run through every single scenario. Every possible win. Every possible failure. I would determine what was the best way to ask. When the best time to ask might be. What I should be wearing. Where I might do the asking. And how I might sound incredibly romantic and cool. I would do this in my head, over, and over, and over again. Each time looking for just the right amount of complexity and pathos for it to be the BEST attempt at asking a girl out ever.
I didn't ask a lot of girls out. Way too many possibilities of failure. It wasn't that I lacked courage, per se, but that I lacked the sort of courage that allowed me to brave the outcome regardless of the odds against me.
I lack the courage to let the chips fall where they may. I have been trying to control every single variable of every single situation my whole entire life. Its what writers do. We control the information we give you. We control what side of the characters you see. We purposefully keep things back, as if secrecy adds to entertainment value. And the real sad thing about it is, I can't imagine doing anything else. My brain is not wired to react differently.
Even now, as I write this, my mind is trying to churn out a way to ask a girl out. I'm creating some compelling reason as to why I should, or shouldn't do it. I'm putting it in writing, because that's what I do - it's the way I think. I simply can't walk up to her and say, "Hey, want to go out for lunch some time?" Or should I say something else? Maybe coffee? Dessert?
The problem with analyzing yourself is that you start to ask why you're analyzing yourself and then you question your need to analyze yourself and to analyze your analysis... etc, so on and so forth. It's an endless rabbit-hole that you've started down.
I'm working up some spontaneous courage. This, of course, will never work. Because for it to work, it would have to be spontaneous.
Maybe I should just settle for courage and leave the head shrinking to someone else?
Friday, January 06, 2012
Climbing out of the pit
At lunch today:
This is the crux of my problem. I live in one of the most expensive places on the entire planet and make a salary that, quite frankly, is laughable. Heck, I know kids fresh out of college with no damn experience in anything that make more money than I do. If I were to walk around town with my salary printed on my forehead, people would look at me in shock and assume there was a typo.
BUUUUTTTTT, that being said, I don't consider myself poor. I have a great network of friends and family that keep me sane. I know lots of people that have helped me for free and others that I have helped as well. Since giving is greater than receiving and I spend every free dollar I have giving back, I guess I've achieved something that richer and smarter people will never have.
I'm tired of maxing out my bank account though. I'm tired of limiting my potential because of my salary. I need other sources of income - which is what started this conversation today. If I'm going to climb out of the pit of working poverty, I don't have to work harder, I just have to work smarter.
So if you've read this far then you should know that I've installed a virus on your computer and have completely raided your entire bank account by now. Thanks. My new plan is to become an evil super-villain.
Okay, that was a lie. I wish I was that smart. I guess it's back to the old tried and true work harder. Somehow I've got to find someone that's willing to pay me twice as much for doing what I already do now for half. Wish me luck!
Me: You know a friend of mine was showing me a want-ad on Craig's List for a Publishing Assistant. It pays $40K a year. I wonder if I could do the job part time like at night or something...
My Human Resources Person: $40K a year is not enough to live on.
Me: :{
My Human Resources Person: (Oblivious)
Me: (To myself) I only make $30K a year now...
This is the crux of my problem. I live in one of the most expensive places on the entire planet and make a salary that, quite frankly, is laughable. Heck, I know kids fresh out of college with no damn experience in anything that make more money than I do. If I were to walk around town with my salary printed on my forehead, people would look at me in shock and assume there was a typo.
BUUUUTTTTT, that being said, I don't consider myself poor. I have a great network of friends and family that keep me sane. I know lots of people that have helped me for free and others that I have helped as well. Since giving is greater than receiving and I spend every free dollar I have giving back, I guess I've achieved something that richer and smarter people will never have.
I'm tired of maxing out my bank account though. I'm tired of limiting my potential because of my salary. I need other sources of income - which is what started this conversation today. If I'm going to climb out of the pit of working poverty, I don't have to work harder, I just have to work smarter.
So if you've read this far then you should know that I've installed a virus on your computer and have completely raided your entire bank account by now. Thanks. My new plan is to become an evil super-villain.
Okay, that was a lie. I wish I was that smart. I guess it's back to the old tried and true work harder. Somehow I've got to find someone that's willing to pay me twice as much for doing what I already do now for half. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
Who am I really?
I've been slogging through the beginning of 1st Chronicles for a fortnight or so and it begins with a LOOOOONG geneology of seemingly every single person in the country formerly known as Israel (which at the time of writing may or may be Judah, Israel, or Judaelastan - 17th Province of Babylon... okay, I made that last name up). Anyway, I'm a sucker for lists and even though I can't pronounce half the names on the list, it kind of makes me wonder about the geneology of these people and why it was so important to them.
Here are the geneologies I can remember...
I am Will Robison III, my Dad is Will Robison Jr, and my Grandpa is Will Robison Sr..
Or
Anakin begat Luke and Leia who begat a passel of annoying literary Jedi kids that hopefully will never see the inside of a movie theater.
But back in the day, geneologies were important for a variety of reasons. First, being a nomadic people, Israel was essentially one giant family that had been given one kick ass inheritance - an entire land of milk and honey... and a personal relationship with God. Of course, land being important the Israelites had to be able to show that they were, in fact, part of the family by being able to trace their family line back to one of the twelve inheritors of Israel himself (one of the 12 tribes). Everything was divided that way.
So, then, skip ahead a few thousand years and the subsequent conquest by the Babylonians and then God bringing the survivors back to the land of milk and honey and the question comes up - Who gets what? Now knowing who you are, by knowing what tribe you belong to, lets you know what land you inherit.
It kind of makes me wonder. Beyond the land inheritance and all that stuff, how much of who we are is inherited from that that have gone before. Each generation makes its own way through the world. We are directly connected to the generation before ours and, in many way, the generation after ours, but what about other generations? Where do we fit in the grand scheme of things? Are we just one of those names listed on some list somewhere that no one can pronounce and about which nothing is known? Are we at least a historical footnote - Yes, that Will Robison that slew the giant lion with his bare feet? Or do we rate an entire book written about our exploits and downfall before God? Don't we try and look back on our own ancestors and pick out the ones that make us sound more glorious than we actually are? Hi, I'm related to Paul Bunyan. Or does that make us look sad by comparison?
Just some thoughts noodling around in my head. What else are you going to think about when reading a list of all the sons of Issachar?
Here are the geneologies I can remember...
I am Will Robison III, my Dad is Will Robison Jr, and my Grandpa is Will Robison Sr..
Or
Anakin begat Luke and Leia who begat a passel of annoying literary Jedi kids that hopefully will never see the inside of a movie theater.
But back in the day, geneologies were important for a variety of reasons. First, being a nomadic people, Israel was essentially one giant family that had been given one kick ass inheritance - an entire land of milk and honey... and a personal relationship with God. Of course, land being important the Israelites had to be able to show that they were, in fact, part of the family by being able to trace their family line back to one of the twelve inheritors of Israel himself (one of the 12 tribes). Everything was divided that way.
So, then, skip ahead a few thousand years and the subsequent conquest by the Babylonians and then God bringing the survivors back to the land of milk and honey and the question comes up - Who gets what? Now knowing who you are, by knowing what tribe you belong to, lets you know what land you inherit.
It kind of makes me wonder. Beyond the land inheritance and all that stuff, how much of who we are is inherited from that that have gone before. Each generation makes its own way through the world. We are directly connected to the generation before ours and, in many way, the generation after ours, but what about other generations? Where do we fit in the grand scheme of things? Are we just one of those names listed on some list somewhere that no one can pronounce and about which nothing is known? Are we at least a historical footnote - Yes, that Will Robison that slew the giant lion with his bare feet? Or do we rate an entire book written about our exploits and downfall before God? Don't we try and look back on our own ancestors and pick out the ones that make us sound more glorious than we actually are? Hi, I'm related to Paul Bunyan. Or does that make us look sad by comparison?
Just some thoughts noodling around in my head. What else are you going to think about when reading a list of all the sons of Issachar?
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
Overwhelming to the point of panic
Sometimes I have anxiety. This is usually brought on by my own actions mixed with the actions of a world that just likes to pile on. "Hey, look at Will, he looks kind of busy... come on boys, let's jump on him and drag him down!" As a Baptist Pastor in Mississippi said to me, "The Devil doesn't want you to succeed and he'll do anything to prevent that."
Which, of course, leads me to a logical question, "Am I really doing anything that ticks off the Devil?"
Okay, yeah, there are some things - but those aren't usually the things that cause me to be overwhelmed. No, no... usually the overwhelming stuff is of my own doing. I've got a lot of pokers in the fire. A lot of those pokers were placed there by myself. In fact, there are days when I can't see the fire through all the pokers. Seriously, if poker collecting were an Olympic sport, I'd be a Gold Medalist every single year!
So last night, lying in bed trying not to think about the overwhelming amount of pokers burning in my mind, I closed my eyes and just prayed, "God, help me out of this mess."
The power went out.
Okay, it may not have been in that order. I don't think God has a PG&E hotline or anything (although that Monday Night Football power outage is still unexplained) but the end result might as well have been the same thing. I needed the power to go out. It forced me to sit in the dark, close my eyes, rest, relax, and simply bathe in the light coming from those red hot pokers.
I decided that the best course of action would be to get some of those pokers out of the fire as soon as possible. I looked at the long list of stuff I have to do, re-prioritized it on the basis of which items I could most quickly finish, and then, remarkably, the panic started to slip away.
What a great way to begin the new year. The panic is still there in the background waiting to jump out, but at least I have a plan now. Progress will be made and pokers will disappear. The Devil might still rise up to defeat me, but at least this time he'll really have to try hard since I won't be defeating myself.
Which, of course, leads me to a logical question, "Am I really doing anything that ticks off the Devil?"
Okay, yeah, there are some things - but those aren't usually the things that cause me to be overwhelmed. No, no... usually the overwhelming stuff is of my own doing. I've got a lot of pokers in the fire. A lot of those pokers were placed there by myself. In fact, there are days when I can't see the fire through all the pokers. Seriously, if poker collecting were an Olympic sport, I'd be a Gold Medalist every single year!
So last night, lying in bed trying not to think about the overwhelming amount of pokers burning in my mind, I closed my eyes and just prayed, "God, help me out of this mess."
The power went out.
Okay, it may not have been in that order. I don't think God has a PG&E hotline or anything (although that Monday Night Football power outage is still unexplained) but the end result might as well have been the same thing. I needed the power to go out. It forced me to sit in the dark, close my eyes, rest, relax, and simply bathe in the light coming from those red hot pokers.
I decided that the best course of action would be to get some of those pokers out of the fire as soon as possible. I looked at the long list of stuff I have to do, re-prioritized it on the basis of which items I could most quickly finish, and then, remarkably, the panic started to slip away.
What a great way to begin the new year. The panic is still there in the background waiting to jump out, but at least I have a plan now. Progress will be made and pokers will disappear. The Devil might still rise up to defeat me, but at least this time he'll really have to try hard since I won't be defeating myself.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Post #801 - In Which I Discuss The Future!
I've been quiet lately mostly because I've been busy. I've discovered that those who are doing usually aren't blogging about doing it. And I've been doing lots of stuff. Though, really, I have very little to show you just yet.
I had a few milestones in 2011. The high point, surely, was seeing my friend Russ get married to the girl of his dreams. That was a great moment and I was honored to be there. A close second was watching my first play being produced and shown. Had it been really good, it probably would have been the high point. ;) But we live and learn and will produce a much better and more streamlined version in 2012.
The biggest thing I will take away from 2011 though will be a paradigm shift in my thinking vis a vis my creative work. Sometime early in the year it occurred to me that I had better put up or shut up, because I had been talking a good game for a long time with little results. I was like Mike Singletary of 49er's fame. I talked a good game, but at the end of the day, I was still in last place with Alex Smith as my Quarterback.
So, 2011 has really been the year where I've been working towards project completion. It's been an ambitious year, but I think the results will speak for themselves in 2012.
In the last six months of 2011, I've shot two films, begun editing a DVD, written about half a novel, and restarted my website. All of these things have been trickling out there not for the sake of secrecy but, because, quite frankly I didn't want to raise any expectations until I knew I could deliver.
Sometime in 2012, these projects will be completed.
First will be my Kenya DVD. This is the DVD that I've been trying to put together for two years taking footage that I shot and that a colleague shot in Kenya last year to tell the story of our project in Kenya and the partners that we work with there. I've edited about a third of it so far and it's really good.
Second will be my Super Secret Sucky Project, or, as it's safe to call it now, The Amazing Mole 2. This is the most ambitious project I've ever worked on - so it's bound to suck (nobody, except maybe Amadeus, gets it right on the first try). It basically involves a reality contest that I shot in Disney World earlier this month with animated characters both competing in the contest and calling the shots behind the scenes. Test animation looks good. Audience reaction to the tests has been encouraging. But I need a lot of effort before I can pull this one off. Expect a preview pretty soon.
Third will be my untitled Folk Music documentary. My Dad has been singing off and on with the same group of folk singers since the earliest days of the Folk Music revival in the early 1960's. They meet every year in a reunion and have a hootenany. Since the San Francisco crowd was hosting the event this year, I decided that someone really ought to tell their fantastic tale - punctuated with taped performances. So in October I recorded their entire Hootenany and conducted interviews. I shot more footage in that weekend than I did during my three weeks in Africa. But I'm still only about half way there. I need to form a storyline in my mind before I finish the documentary with a second round of interviews and other footage. This one has a special deadline - next year's hoot. So I expect to be busy completing this during the summer of 2012.
And finally, I shall be a writing up a storm. In addition to the revised streamlined Last Supper play that I'll be working on here in the next couple of weeks, I shall also get back to my novel, continue writing for my website, and shall begin editing my sister's novel (I finally have an idea of how to unpack her dense, but fun, story). And, if there's time, I want to produce my next play - Next Year's Christmas pageant - as I think I have a unique take on it.
I'm going to be a busy guy in 2012 - so don't be surprised if I'm not around here a lot. I'll try to keep you up to speed, but I'm only going to mention things if I think they're up to snuff from here on out.
Have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and I'll see you all on the flipside of 2012!
I had a few milestones in 2011. The high point, surely, was seeing my friend Russ get married to the girl of his dreams. That was a great moment and I was honored to be there. A close second was watching my first play being produced and shown. Had it been really good, it probably would have been the high point. ;) But we live and learn and will produce a much better and more streamlined version in 2012.
The biggest thing I will take away from 2011 though will be a paradigm shift in my thinking vis a vis my creative work. Sometime early in the year it occurred to me that I had better put up or shut up, because I had been talking a good game for a long time with little results. I was like Mike Singletary of 49er's fame. I talked a good game, but at the end of the day, I was still in last place with Alex Smith as my Quarterback.
So, 2011 has really been the year where I've been working towards project completion. It's been an ambitious year, but I think the results will speak for themselves in 2012.
In the last six months of 2011, I've shot two films, begun editing a DVD, written about half a novel, and restarted my website. All of these things have been trickling out there not for the sake of secrecy but, because, quite frankly I didn't want to raise any expectations until I knew I could deliver.
Sometime in 2012, these projects will be completed.
First will be my Kenya DVD. This is the DVD that I've been trying to put together for two years taking footage that I shot and that a colleague shot in Kenya last year to tell the story of our project in Kenya and the partners that we work with there. I've edited about a third of it so far and it's really good.
Second will be my Super Secret Sucky Project, or, as it's safe to call it now, The Amazing Mole 2. This is the most ambitious project I've ever worked on - so it's bound to suck (nobody, except maybe Amadeus, gets it right on the first try). It basically involves a reality contest that I shot in Disney World earlier this month with animated characters both competing in the contest and calling the shots behind the scenes. Test animation looks good. Audience reaction to the tests has been encouraging. But I need a lot of effort before I can pull this one off. Expect a preview pretty soon.
Third will be my untitled Folk Music documentary. My Dad has been singing off and on with the same group of folk singers since the earliest days of the Folk Music revival in the early 1960's. They meet every year in a reunion and have a hootenany. Since the San Francisco crowd was hosting the event this year, I decided that someone really ought to tell their fantastic tale - punctuated with taped performances. So in October I recorded their entire Hootenany and conducted interviews. I shot more footage in that weekend than I did during my three weeks in Africa. But I'm still only about half way there. I need to form a storyline in my mind before I finish the documentary with a second round of interviews and other footage. This one has a special deadline - next year's hoot. So I expect to be busy completing this during the summer of 2012.
And finally, I shall be a writing up a storm. In addition to the revised streamlined Last Supper play that I'll be working on here in the next couple of weeks, I shall also get back to my novel, continue writing for my website, and shall begin editing my sister's novel (I finally have an idea of how to unpack her dense, but fun, story). And, if there's time, I want to produce my next play - Next Year's Christmas pageant - as I think I have a unique take on it.
I'm going to be a busy guy in 2012 - so don't be surprised if I'm not around here a lot. I'll try to keep you up to speed, but I'm only going to mention things if I think they're up to snuff from here on out.
Have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and I'll see you all on the flipside of 2012!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
A Holiday Message From The 99%...
With profound apologies to Dr. Suess...
And Thurl Ravenscroft...
A Holiday Message To The One Percent
You're a mean one, One Percent.
You're really a heel.
You're cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
One Percent.
You're a bad banana
With a greasy black peel.
You're a monster, One Percent.
Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spiders,
You've got garlic in your soul.
One Percent.
I wouldn't touch you, with a
thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.
You're a vile one, One Percent.
You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile.
One Percent.
Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crocodile.
You're a foul one, One Percent.
You're a nasty, wasty skunk.
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk.
One Percent.
The three words that best describe you, are as follows, and I quote:
Stink, Stank, Stunk
You're a rotter, One Percent.
You're the king of sinful sots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splotched
With moldy purple spots,
One Percent.
Your soul is an apalling dump heap overflowing
with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable
rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots.
You nauseate me, One Percent.
With a nauseaus super-naus.
You're a crooked jerky jockey
And you drive a crooked horse.
One Percent.
You're a three decker saurkraut and toadstool sandwich
With arsenic sauce!
(Sorry, I heard this song today and I thought, "This is exactly the message the Occupy Protesters have been preaching for the last three months." ;)
And Thurl Ravenscroft...
A Holiday Message To The One Percent
You're a mean one, One Percent.
You're really a heel.
You're cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
One Percent.
You're a bad banana
With a greasy black peel.
You're a monster, One Percent.
Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spiders,
You've got garlic in your soul.
One Percent.
I wouldn't touch you, with a
thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.
You're a vile one, One Percent.
You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile.
One Percent.
Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crocodile.
You're a foul one, One Percent.
You're a nasty, wasty skunk.
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk.
One Percent.
The three words that best describe you, are as follows, and I quote:
Stink, Stank, Stunk
You're a rotter, One Percent.
You're the king of sinful sots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splotched
With moldy purple spots,
One Percent.
Your soul is an apalling dump heap overflowing
with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable
rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots.
You nauseate me, One Percent.
With a nauseaus super-naus.
You're a crooked jerky jockey
And you drive a crooked horse.
One Percent.
You're a three decker saurkraut and toadstool sandwich
With arsenic sauce!
(Sorry, I heard this song today and I thought, "This is exactly the message the Occupy Protesters have been preaching for the last three months." ;)
Friday, November 11, 2011
The Honorable Sacrifice
My dear friends, as a Veteran of the Armed Forces of the United States of America - a fact that I proudly display - I think Veteran's Day is a sham. Now, don't get me wrong. I am not trying to disparage the sacrifices paid nor the honor we owe to all our veterans out there for the hardships they endured. We owe them our respect and thanks. But what exactly are we honoring?
A soldiers life is tough. They work hard to defend the country from all harm - foreign and domestic. But the method in which many are forced to defend the country, while necessary, is hardly honorable. Killing to protect your fellow citizens isn't nearly as honorable as laying down your life to do so. Nobody walks up to a Veteran and says, "Thank you for all the people you killed overseas so that I can speak my mind here freely." And yet, that's usually part of the job requirement - or at least it is for anyone involved in a war.
Now, I don't wish to dwell on this particularly gruesome fact. Military people do many wonderful things... and they also drop bombs, shoot people, and project force. Its a job. Its a horrible, terrible, but unfortunately, necessary job. We owe our thanks to our veterans for doing these horrible terrible things that need to be done for us.
This is all a round about way of saying what we should be honoring are the peace makers - the ones who go equally into harm's way, sacrificing everything they have, to bring food, knowledge, and health care to people that are sometimes resistant to their very existence. They go into war zones, famine areas, health crises, without any thought or regard to their own safety, and do the beautiful, wonderful necessary things that need to be done. All pay some, and some pay all to do these things. But rarely do these people cause harm while they are doing these things. They don't need to blow up a village in order to save it first. They don't need to shoot brothers, sisters, parents, and friends in order to save everyone else. They do their work with kind words, loving hearts, and generous spirits.
War is evil and we shouldn't continue to honor it in any way, shape, or form. We should acknowledge the sacrifice of those who fought in the wars, but we shouldn't continue to heap honor on these horrible acts.
I appreciate the thanks. I appreciate the remembrances for those that have fallen. But I don't wish to be reminded or applauded for the necessary evils I was called upon to perpetrate on other people. There seems to be something wrong in that very notion.
As for me, I spent my minute of silence at 11:11:11 thanking God for the sacrifices that have been made by both soldiers and peacekeepers, and longing for a world where soldiers were no longer necessary. A Day Without Veterans would be a holiday I would truly enjoy celebrating.
A soldiers life is tough. They work hard to defend the country from all harm - foreign and domestic. But the method in which many are forced to defend the country, while necessary, is hardly honorable. Killing to protect your fellow citizens isn't nearly as honorable as laying down your life to do so. Nobody walks up to a Veteran and says, "Thank you for all the people you killed overseas so that I can speak my mind here freely." And yet, that's usually part of the job requirement - or at least it is for anyone involved in a war.
Now, I don't wish to dwell on this particularly gruesome fact. Military people do many wonderful things... and they also drop bombs, shoot people, and project force. Its a job. Its a horrible, terrible, but unfortunately, necessary job. We owe our thanks to our veterans for doing these horrible terrible things that need to be done for us.
This is all a round about way of saying what we should be honoring are the peace makers - the ones who go equally into harm's way, sacrificing everything they have, to bring food, knowledge, and health care to people that are sometimes resistant to their very existence. They go into war zones, famine areas, health crises, without any thought or regard to their own safety, and do the beautiful, wonderful necessary things that need to be done. All pay some, and some pay all to do these things. But rarely do these people cause harm while they are doing these things. They don't need to blow up a village in order to save it first. They don't need to shoot brothers, sisters, parents, and friends in order to save everyone else. They do their work with kind words, loving hearts, and generous spirits.
War is evil and we shouldn't continue to honor it in any way, shape, or form. We should acknowledge the sacrifice of those who fought in the wars, but we shouldn't continue to heap honor on these horrible acts.
I appreciate the thanks. I appreciate the remembrances for those that have fallen. But I don't wish to be reminded or applauded for the necessary evils I was called upon to perpetrate on other people. There seems to be something wrong in that very notion.
As for me, I spent my minute of silence at 11:11:11 thanking God for the sacrifices that have been made by both soldiers and peacekeepers, and longing for a world where soldiers were no longer necessary. A Day Without Veterans would be a holiday I would truly enjoy celebrating.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
5 Steps To Knowing Christ
1) Be introduced to him via word of mouth or book - someone mentions Christ and you are curious as to who he is.
2) You go to Christ's house to meet him and discover that He's not home and nobody seems to know where to find him. Further, although everyone there claims to know Christ, nobody has ever met him, and every description of him is conflicting. Still, you are curious, so...
3) You read his book. This is rather confusing. Like claiming you know Steinbeck because you read The Grapes of Wrath. This leads you to read other books from the experts, which contradict each other as well. You start to get a better picture of who everyone thinks Christ is. You know what he's done. But you still can't get to know him just yet. What you really need is to walk in his footsteps for a while...
4) You do things that Christ did. This brings you REALLY close to knowing him. You begin to suspect that the best way to know Christ is to be really really good to everyone - to love them as much as possible. BUUUUUTTTTTT... after many years of this, you still don't really know him. Which brings you to the final step...
5) You accept that Christ is unknowable. And surprisingly, when you stop trying to capture Christ into some definable picture, you finally get to know Him.
2) You go to Christ's house to meet him and discover that He's not home and nobody seems to know where to find him. Further, although everyone there claims to know Christ, nobody has ever met him, and every description of him is conflicting. Still, you are curious, so...
3) You read his book. This is rather confusing. Like claiming you know Steinbeck because you read The Grapes of Wrath. This leads you to read other books from the experts, which contradict each other as well. You start to get a better picture of who everyone thinks Christ is. You know what he's done. But you still can't get to know him just yet. What you really need is to walk in his footsteps for a while...
4) You do things that Christ did. This brings you REALLY close to knowing him. You begin to suspect that the best way to know Christ is to be really really good to everyone - to love them as much as possible. BUUUUUTTTTTT... after many years of this, you still don't really know him. Which brings you to the final step...
5) You accept that Christ is unknowable. And surprisingly, when you stop trying to capture Christ into some definable picture, you finally get to know Him.
Thursday, October 06, 2011
No Stupid Idea Left Behind
I was hard on the Bush Admin. for No Child Left Behind because it was a stupid law. I need to be equally hard with the current executives running our schools for their equally stupid left wing insanity.
Considering that schools are low on money, SFUSD recently hired Health Coordinators to make sure that schools remain healthy. In addition to cutting off all sweets on campus (including those that the teachers might bring in their own lunches or might buy for celebrations or parties - like a retirement cake, for instance) they have recently begun to institute a mandatory exercise period for teachers. After school, of course. For the good health of the teacher, of course.
Never mind the fact that most teachers work 80+ hours a week - many of these hours unpaid and overstressed - but now they have to add 1 hour a week of monitored exercise to their workload.
Only, it gets worse. Because in addition to the one hour of mandatory exercise each week that these teachers are required to do, they are also required to fill out paperwork on their exercise and submit the paperwork to the school district. Because we need to be able to verify these things, don't we?
But, you know, these teacher's salaries are bankrupting the country, so I guess they deserve everything they get. ;)
Considering that schools are low on money, SFUSD recently hired Health Coordinators to make sure that schools remain healthy. In addition to cutting off all sweets on campus (including those that the teachers might bring in their own lunches or might buy for celebrations or parties - like a retirement cake, for instance) they have recently begun to institute a mandatory exercise period for teachers. After school, of course. For the good health of the teacher, of course.
Never mind the fact that most teachers work 80+ hours a week - many of these hours unpaid and overstressed - but now they have to add 1 hour a week of monitored exercise to their workload.
Only, it gets worse. Because in addition to the one hour of mandatory exercise each week that these teachers are required to do, they are also required to fill out paperwork on their exercise and submit the paperwork to the school district. Because we need to be able to verify these things, don't we?
But, you know, these teacher's salaries are bankrupting the country, so I guess they deserve everything they get. ;)
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