Watchdog Group Says "High School Musical" Turning Kids Gay
COLORADO SPRINGS (CAP) - A conservative watchdog group has come down on the Disney Channel sensation High School Musical, saying that the TV movies are "minting the next generation of America's homosexuals" by introducing them to musical comedy at a young age.
"Parents may think it's very innocent," said James Dobson of Focus on the Family. "But just watch: one minute they're watching High School Musical, the next they're in the front row at Mamma Mia, their hand resting suggestively on a kneecap that's the same sex as theirs."
Though the main characters of Troy and Gabriella, played by teen idols Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens, are ostensibly boyfriend and girlfriend in the films, Dobson insists that their relationship is just a cover.
"You'll notice they don't even kiss until almost the end of the second movie," he said. "And even then, their mouths are closed - no tongues."
Dobson compared musical comedy to a "gateway drug," saying it's often the first step on the path to same-sex debauchery. "The studies are clear," he said, citing in particular a 2004 report by the Kenneth Mehlman Center for Public Affairs showing a clear progression from musical comedy to interior design, and from there to meticulously coiffed hair and a love of colored knit vests (perhaps olive green or burnt orange).
"Within a very short amount of time, even your casual musical comedy viewer is likely to become a flamboyant, family-values-eschewing homosexual," the report read.
Meanwhile, Disney CEO Robert A. "Bob" Iger released a statement yesterday disputing the claims. "There are absolutely, positively no homosexual undertones in either of our High School Musical movies, nor in any of the CDs, DVDs, posters, clothing or thousands of other related items available at Disney.com," said Iger.
"Unless you think maybe that there might be a market for it," he added.
Dobson, however, said that not only do the movies have a homosexual agenda, but that it's patently obvious. "Just look at that Zac Efron, with his skinny round tush and his tight pants, and those deep, sea blue eyes and the way he pouts with those full, red lips," he said.
Dobson then cut the interview short, noting he had to go use the bathroom at the Minneapolis-Saint Paul Airport.
(Now, that's some good satire!)
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
The Secret of My Celeste
File this one under typical writer insanity...
A year ago, I was supposed to be in Florida meeting my dream woman - Celeste - the golf instructor. For those of you who remember, Celeste was a creation of mine from a series of blogs where I tried to imagine those ten days that I would spend in Florida last year. According to my imagination, I met Celeste at a golf lesson and we ended up going out for a few nights while I was in Florida. Of course, she wasn't real - in the sense that she didn't really exist, couldn't be actually touched, and certainly didn't have real lips to kiss me. But the imagination is a powerful thing according to Mickey Mouse and his trip Fantasmic.
For a writer to imagine a new character is nothing new. We do it so often and so routinely that it just becomes something rather boring - ordinary - commonplace. We are not really breathing life into a character, we are merely forming the outline, the structure, the accepted parameters of a pretend individual (like a forger might provide the documents for an alias). It is YOUR imagination that breathes life into a character. Without someone reading about the character, there can be no life given to this character. Its your imagination that gives a character its voice, its shape, its look, its spark of vitality. So the secret to the success of a writer's characters is mostly based on the writer's ability to stimulate that part of your brain that makes you breathe life into the writer's creation. Its a symbiotic relationship, and writers are often surprised what direction their characters take once life has been breathed into them by readers.
But Celeste is different. Celeste follows in a long line of different characters for me. To me, Celeste was alive. Is alive. Will be alive again. She is a tapping into a subconscious for me. She is a character that I found breathing and described to you and not the other way around.
Its a subtle psychological difference and its something that I've only noticed when I try to imagine female characters in love stories. To me, Celeste is closer akin to a fantasy than a character. She is what I'd Like To Have Happen To Me, and not some randomly generated plot driving floozy. The difference is quite stunning in terms of writing. Characters I control. They do what I tell them to do. They say their lines. And they die on cue. Girls like Celeste tell me what they're doing, even when it complicates the story line. They make me realize that I am lucky to have them. And that if it weren't for some trick of writing fate, I'd probably never even know them.
Let's be realistic - most great literary women are Celeste's. There's no way that Romeo meets Juliet and they immediately fall in love. There's no way that Juliet defies her parents and secretly marries Romeo. There's no way that Juliet agrees to fake her death because she loves Romeo so much that she's willing to do anything to be with him. And there's no way that Juliet kills herself when fate intervenes. These things don't happen to real people. These things don't happen to normal characters. They only happen to women of Celeste's ilk - creations of pure love - who show us not what the world actually presents, but what we'd LIKE TO HAVE HAPPEN TO US. Secretly, we'd all like to have a love that strong that we'd be willing to die for each other. Celeste, Juliet, Henriette, all of these women speak to our inner souls, our innermost desires, our Christian selfs. They remind us of the divine part of our nature. They remind us of what is true and noble and wonderful about life and love.
The secret of my Celeste is that she is that part of me that longs for the ultimate love of God. And she will not allow me to take any cheap substitutes.
A year ago, I was supposed to be in Florida meeting my dream woman - Celeste - the golf instructor. For those of you who remember, Celeste was a creation of mine from a series of blogs where I tried to imagine those ten days that I would spend in Florida last year. According to my imagination, I met Celeste at a golf lesson and we ended up going out for a few nights while I was in Florida. Of course, she wasn't real - in the sense that she didn't really exist, couldn't be actually touched, and certainly didn't have real lips to kiss me. But the imagination is a powerful thing according to Mickey Mouse and his trip Fantasmic.
For a writer to imagine a new character is nothing new. We do it so often and so routinely that it just becomes something rather boring - ordinary - commonplace. We are not really breathing life into a character, we are merely forming the outline, the structure, the accepted parameters of a pretend individual (like a forger might provide the documents for an alias). It is YOUR imagination that breathes life into a character. Without someone reading about the character, there can be no life given to this character. Its your imagination that gives a character its voice, its shape, its look, its spark of vitality. So the secret to the success of a writer's characters is mostly based on the writer's ability to stimulate that part of your brain that makes you breathe life into the writer's creation. Its a symbiotic relationship, and writers are often surprised what direction their characters take once life has been breathed into them by readers.
But Celeste is different. Celeste follows in a long line of different characters for me. To me, Celeste was alive. Is alive. Will be alive again. She is a tapping into a subconscious for me. She is a character that I found breathing and described to you and not the other way around.
Its a subtle psychological difference and its something that I've only noticed when I try to imagine female characters in love stories. To me, Celeste is closer akin to a fantasy than a character. She is what I'd Like To Have Happen To Me, and not some randomly generated plot driving floozy. The difference is quite stunning in terms of writing. Characters I control. They do what I tell them to do. They say their lines. And they die on cue. Girls like Celeste tell me what they're doing, even when it complicates the story line. They make me realize that I am lucky to have them. And that if it weren't for some trick of writing fate, I'd probably never even know them.
Let's be realistic - most great literary women are Celeste's. There's no way that Romeo meets Juliet and they immediately fall in love. There's no way that Juliet defies her parents and secretly marries Romeo. There's no way that Juliet agrees to fake her death because she loves Romeo so much that she's willing to do anything to be with him. And there's no way that Juliet kills herself when fate intervenes. These things don't happen to real people. These things don't happen to normal characters. They only happen to women of Celeste's ilk - creations of pure love - who show us not what the world actually presents, but what we'd LIKE TO HAVE HAPPEN TO US. Secretly, we'd all like to have a love that strong that we'd be willing to die for each other. Celeste, Juliet, Henriette, all of these women speak to our inner souls, our innermost desires, our Christian selfs. They remind us of the divine part of our nature. They remind us of what is true and noble and wonderful about life and love.
The secret of my Celeste is that she is that part of me that longs for the ultimate love of God. And she will not allow me to take any cheap substitutes.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Emptying The Clutter Part One - Chinese Products
Being a product manager for an import/export company that does business with several Asian manufacturers, you might expect that I have a very strong opinion about the availability of cheap manufactured goods from China. I do. They suck. Not only do they suck, but they are the single greatest threat to the United States of America, both in terms of its security and its hegemony in the rest of the world. Now, if we don't really care where we stand in the scheme of things, if we have no problem with going the way of Britain, Spain, and Rome and becoming a second rate world power, then we can simply ignore this blog. But if we've grown accustomed to being a leader in the world, then we simply can't ignore the danger such cheap products create.
So, why do we buy cheap products from China? Well, really, its a matter of supply and demand - more importantly, the Demand part. Let's start with WalMart.
While WalMart was by no means the first company to import products from China, they are certainly the best at it. Supplying the world's largest chain of stores requires extra ordinary effort on the behalf of WalMart. Most American companies can't keep up with the demand of the voracious Walmart shoppers - certainly not without wanting to realize a tidy profit as a result. In China, where profits can be measured in cents, not dollars, a product sold that realizes a few cents profit can be a huge boon to its manufacturers. So in China Walmart has a steady supply of products to fill its stores. It buys these products at incredibly cheap prices and passes on those savings to its shoppers. We buy things from Walmart because they are cheap. As a result, Walmart claims more and more of our business and gets larger and larger and needs more and more product and more and more of our money goes overseas to China. Demand fuels supply everytime.
This, of course, is not lost on those chains that are not called Walmart, nor on the manufacturers that supply those stores. In order to remain competitive with Walmart pricing, these manufacturers also have to start importing products from China. It doesn't matter that these products might be inferior to the products they already have. What matters is the price. As long as they are cheap, everyone can remain competitive. The second Walmart lowers their price to something less than we can offer, we lose that products sales to Walmart. Walmart keeps getting richer, and everyone else keeps getting poorer.
Soon you end up with a situation where 80% of all toys are produced in China, where 75% of all our food is produced in China, and where well over half of all our consumer goods are produced in China. Our manufacturers are laying off employees, suffering through hard times, and feeing the problem just to stay in business. Our money increasingly goes overseas. Our jobs increasingly go overseas.
In short, the purchasing of so many cheap products has turned the entire nation into a bunch of cheap whores - selling out to the lowest bidder every time.
So, one part of me is saddened that all this scrutiny is now being foist upon the Chinese market. I need those sales to keep my job and if there is too much of a backlash, business will surely suffer. Walmart will coast through such a downturn, but the rest of the companies who were forced to turn to China to save their necks, will be crushed under the weight of consumer indifference. On the other hand, any blow to the Chinese economy is good for the U.S.A. If you look at how quickly China has grown in the last ten years, it is primarily because we have been feeding it. China now has the world's fastest growing economy. Tie that to a nation of over 1 Billion consumers and look out. Demand for oil has caused the price to skyrocket. Imagine what demand for other products is going to do to the prices of other things. Five years ago, my very prescient friend told me that the one thing that scared him the most is the potential of China going capitalistic and democratic. If that happens, you can kiss our number one status in the world goodbye.
We made this happen. We demanded cheaper and cheaper products. We took the short term gain over the long term security. Its us that is to blame - not Mattel, not Walmart, and not the Bush/Clinton/Bush/Reagan governments. We drive the economy. If we want to get quality products back on the shelves and correct the imbalance in our economies, then we have to start putting our money where our mouths are - here in America.
There. Got that off my chest. Its now out of my mind. Some of the clutter is gone.
So, why do we buy cheap products from China? Well, really, its a matter of supply and demand - more importantly, the Demand part. Let's start with WalMart.
While WalMart was by no means the first company to import products from China, they are certainly the best at it. Supplying the world's largest chain of stores requires extra ordinary effort on the behalf of WalMart. Most American companies can't keep up with the demand of the voracious Walmart shoppers - certainly not without wanting to realize a tidy profit as a result. In China, where profits can be measured in cents, not dollars, a product sold that realizes a few cents profit can be a huge boon to its manufacturers. So in China Walmart has a steady supply of products to fill its stores. It buys these products at incredibly cheap prices and passes on those savings to its shoppers. We buy things from Walmart because they are cheap. As a result, Walmart claims more and more of our business and gets larger and larger and needs more and more product and more and more of our money goes overseas to China. Demand fuels supply everytime.
This, of course, is not lost on those chains that are not called Walmart, nor on the manufacturers that supply those stores. In order to remain competitive with Walmart pricing, these manufacturers also have to start importing products from China. It doesn't matter that these products might be inferior to the products they already have. What matters is the price. As long as they are cheap, everyone can remain competitive. The second Walmart lowers their price to something less than we can offer, we lose that products sales to Walmart. Walmart keeps getting richer, and everyone else keeps getting poorer.
Soon you end up with a situation where 80% of all toys are produced in China, where 75% of all our food is produced in China, and where well over half of all our consumer goods are produced in China. Our manufacturers are laying off employees, suffering through hard times, and feeing the problem just to stay in business. Our money increasingly goes overseas. Our jobs increasingly go overseas.
In short, the purchasing of so many cheap products has turned the entire nation into a bunch of cheap whores - selling out to the lowest bidder every time.
So, one part of me is saddened that all this scrutiny is now being foist upon the Chinese market. I need those sales to keep my job and if there is too much of a backlash, business will surely suffer. Walmart will coast through such a downturn, but the rest of the companies who were forced to turn to China to save their necks, will be crushed under the weight of consumer indifference. On the other hand, any blow to the Chinese economy is good for the U.S.A. If you look at how quickly China has grown in the last ten years, it is primarily because we have been feeding it. China now has the world's fastest growing economy. Tie that to a nation of over 1 Billion consumers and look out. Demand for oil has caused the price to skyrocket. Imagine what demand for other products is going to do to the prices of other things. Five years ago, my very prescient friend told me that the one thing that scared him the most is the potential of China going capitalistic and democratic. If that happens, you can kiss our number one status in the world goodbye.
We made this happen. We demanded cheaper and cheaper products. We took the short term gain over the long term security. Its us that is to blame - not Mattel, not Walmart, and not the Bush/Clinton/Bush/Reagan governments. We drive the economy. If we want to get quality products back on the shelves and correct the imbalance in our economies, then we have to start putting our money where our mouths are - here in America.
There. Got that off my chest. Its now out of my mind. Some of the clutter is gone.
Friday, August 31, 2007
We're Only Human
Sometimes being a Christian sucks. It just does. We are called by Jesus to a higher standard that requires us to humble ourselves before our enemies - to not hate them, to not wish them harm, to not want to run as far away from them as possible, to not fear them. But there are so many of them, so many people that wish us ill, or hate us, or chase us, or make us afraid. Its hard not to want to lash out, to strike back, to say derogatory things, to hide and run away. It is in our nature to do so. And to do the opposite is almost more difficult than dealing with the enemy in the first place.
We are only human. Our entire knowledge of the world is shaped by the things we perceive using our senses - things we see, things we hear, things we touch, things we smell, and things we taste. While we can KNOW people by seeing them regularly or hearing from them on the phone, or, unfortunately, smelling them, or more fortunately touching them or tasting them - we can never really KNOW KNOW them. We can't see inside their heads and we can't envision the world the way they envision it. We can't know what they see, or hear, or touch, etc... This can make us feel quite lonely even when we are in amongst a large group of people. Sometimes, we just can't communicate the way we feel, and we can't understand the way people feel about us. We are left to guess what those feelings are and to act on those guesses. At times, this can create an agony in us far greater than anything we are actually experiencing because we imagine that our guesses are our perceptions. We imagine being slighted. We imagine people whispering about us behind our backs. We imagine conversations that never take place. We FEAR for ourselves and our situations from imaginary foes. And we act on those fears. It is, perhaps, the most human thing that we do.
Those fears can lead to us to suspect that some people have bad feelings towards us. They can make us "realize" that we are not well liked or well received. They can exacerbate a situation that was minor and turn it into a major battle. We begin to be ANGRY with our friends, family and brothers and sisters. We begin to try and pick fights with them, just to confirm that which we already know. We can begin to HATE our enemies. And we can begin to act on that hate by drawing inside ourselves, by returning slights - real or imagined, by actively trying to give back the hatred that we've received. We can become perpetrators when we thought we were victims. We can try to destroy people over the mere perception that they are trying to destroy us.
And when we give in to these hatreds, we only bring SUFFERING. Suffering for ourselves and for our enemies and for everyone else caught up in the middle. When there is a breakdown in the safe and normal social order, everyone suffers. If one person suffers, a ripple effect will spread that suffering to everyone connected with that one person. And when two people are fighting, the number of people suffering doubles.
There is only one known way to circumvent the entire process - FORGIVENESS. And no, not in the way that we are naturally inclined to think as humans. No, we are not to seek forgiveness from others, we are to offer it. And offer it again. And again and again and again. We are to ask forgiveness of our friends, and family and brothers and sisters for thinking ill of them and for taking offense to minor things and for not being able to better communicate our feelings and our fears, to constantly feel the need for reassurance, to not trust their motivations, to not embrace them no matter what deficiences we perceive them to have. We are to offer forgiveness, to humble ourselves before them, and to seek reconciliation.
Its not easy being a Christian. It goes against everything we've ever felt deep down inside. And yet, it is so important for us to follow these precepts. It is important for us to love one another as God loves us.
Fear leads to anger and anger leads to hate and hate leads to suffering. But forgiveness leads to love and to God. We can't choose to be human. But we can choose to be forgiven.
We are only human. Our entire knowledge of the world is shaped by the things we perceive using our senses - things we see, things we hear, things we touch, things we smell, and things we taste. While we can KNOW people by seeing them regularly or hearing from them on the phone, or, unfortunately, smelling them, or more fortunately touching them or tasting them - we can never really KNOW KNOW them. We can't see inside their heads and we can't envision the world the way they envision it. We can't know what they see, or hear, or touch, etc... This can make us feel quite lonely even when we are in amongst a large group of people. Sometimes, we just can't communicate the way we feel, and we can't understand the way people feel about us. We are left to guess what those feelings are and to act on those guesses. At times, this can create an agony in us far greater than anything we are actually experiencing because we imagine that our guesses are our perceptions. We imagine being slighted. We imagine people whispering about us behind our backs. We imagine conversations that never take place. We FEAR for ourselves and our situations from imaginary foes. And we act on those fears. It is, perhaps, the most human thing that we do.
Those fears can lead to us to suspect that some people have bad feelings towards us. They can make us "realize" that we are not well liked or well received. They can exacerbate a situation that was minor and turn it into a major battle. We begin to be ANGRY with our friends, family and brothers and sisters. We begin to try and pick fights with them, just to confirm that which we already know. We can begin to HATE our enemies. And we can begin to act on that hate by drawing inside ourselves, by returning slights - real or imagined, by actively trying to give back the hatred that we've received. We can become perpetrators when we thought we were victims. We can try to destroy people over the mere perception that they are trying to destroy us.
And when we give in to these hatreds, we only bring SUFFERING. Suffering for ourselves and for our enemies and for everyone else caught up in the middle. When there is a breakdown in the safe and normal social order, everyone suffers. If one person suffers, a ripple effect will spread that suffering to everyone connected with that one person. And when two people are fighting, the number of people suffering doubles.
There is only one known way to circumvent the entire process - FORGIVENESS. And no, not in the way that we are naturally inclined to think as humans. No, we are not to seek forgiveness from others, we are to offer it. And offer it again. And again and again and again. We are to ask forgiveness of our friends, and family and brothers and sisters for thinking ill of them and for taking offense to minor things and for not being able to better communicate our feelings and our fears, to constantly feel the need for reassurance, to not trust their motivations, to not embrace them no matter what deficiences we perceive them to have. We are to offer forgiveness, to humble ourselves before them, and to seek reconciliation.
Its not easy being a Christian. It goes against everything we've ever felt deep down inside. And yet, it is so important for us to follow these precepts. It is important for us to love one another as God loves us.
Fear leads to anger and anger leads to hate and hate leads to suffering. But forgiveness leads to love and to God. We can't choose to be human. But we can choose to be forgiven.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The abuse goes on...
Now I know what it is like to be in an abusive relationship. And I also understand how difficult it is to get out of one, whether you want to or not.
Many have accused my church of being disfunctional in the past. I have, for the most part, disagreed with their final assessments. I wouldn't say that I couldn't understand their disapproval - because I'd seen it happen to others and, indeed, had felt its impact myself. The people of my church have a tendency to take and take and take and to never give back. Your value to them is often based on the idea of what have you done for me lately. People who do not contribute, or who are no longer able to contribute, quickly find themselves forgotten and discarded. But worse than that, contributions are never appreciated, merely assessed and scored on some giant tally sheet with the suspicion that if you are willing to contribute this much, you must be hiding a great deal more somewhere else that you have yet to contribute. So even those who contribute don't escape the scrutiny of a church that continues to want more of whatever you have to offer. I am not coming to this conclusion after a particular incident, but a particular incident has finally prompted me to come forward with this conclusion.
I thought I could change the church. I thought I could, in some way, prove myself worthy of it, could earn its love and admiration. I realize now that I will never achieve that goal and that such an achievement is impossible. If I continue to remain in this relationship, the church will do its best to bleed me dry and then discard me.
However, when I have tried to write my resignation, I have discovered that I can not leave this church or this disfunctional relationship. The good times and the good people are becoming more and more infrequent, but I still can not abandon them entirely - nor do I feel that the time is yet right for that move.
Instead, I will fight back. I will no longer take the abuse that is heaped upon me. And I will no longer give and give and give until I have nothing more. The next time someone questions my dedication to any portion of the church, I will merely reply, "You can try to replace me if you want. I have no more to give to you." I don't want to become an uncooperative a$$, but the truth is, my church needs to see that they can not continue down this path and still claim to be a church of Jesus Christ.
I'd better shut up now before I start into another rant. Please pray for me and for my church.
Many have accused my church of being disfunctional in the past. I have, for the most part, disagreed with their final assessments. I wouldn't say that I couldn't understand their disapproval - because I'd seen it happen to others and, indeed, had felt its impact myself. The people of my church have a tendency to take and take and take and to never give back. Your value to them is often based on the idea of what have you done for me lately. People who do not contribute, or who are no longer able to contribute, quickly find themselves forgotten and discarded. But worse than that, contributions are never appreciated, merely assessed and scored on some giant tally sheet with the suspicion that if you are willing to contribute this much, you must be hiding a great deal more somewhere else that you have yet to contribute. So even those who contribute don't escape the scrutiny of a church that continues to want more of whatever you have to offer. I am not coming to this conclusion after a particular incident, but a particular incident has finally prompted me to come forward with this conclusion.
I thought I could change the church. I thought I could, in some way, prove myself worthy of it, could earn its love and admiration. I realize now that I will never achieve that goal and that such an achievement is impossible. If I continue to remain in this relationship, the church will do its best to bleed me dry and then discard me.
However, when I have tried to write my resignation, I have discovered that I can not leave this church or this disfunctional relationship. The good times and the good people are becoming more and more infrequent, but I still can not abandon them entirely - nor do I feel that the time is yet right for that move.
Instead, I will fight back. I will no longer take the abuse that is heaped upon me. And I will no longer give and give and give until I have nothing more. The next time someone questions my dedication to any portion of the church, I will merely reply, "You can try to replace me if you want. I have no more to give to you." I don't want to become an uncooperative a$$, but the truth is, my church needs to see that they can not continue down this path and still claim to be a church of Jesus Christ.
I'd better shut up now before I start into another rant. Please pray for me and for my church.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
A Perfect Storm
Standing at the bottom of a very large wave of incoming projects, I can't help but be awed by the perfect storm of events that have led me to this moment. Every single project that I have undertaken to perform is a logical extention of me, my interests, and my beliefs. So, how did I end up here? How did I get to the point where I'm about to be flattened by the sheer enormity of work I'm about to face?
First, the obvious... I have to work to make a living. Money doesn't grow on trees in California ever since they were all cut down to make way for freeways. So, working is a constant 9 to 5 interupption in the rest of my normal routine. Sometimes, I hardly notice it. And sometimes... Massive Sales Meeting, New products arriving, China Lead Tests everywhere, preparing for next year's big show and even more new products, inventory incredibly out of whack, two major orders in the same week depleting all of my stock... sometimes work can almost be a perfect storm in and of itself.
Second, the committments... Being a youth group leader can be fun, but getting a program restarted can feel a little bit like one of those intensely dramatic moments of E.R. - where the patient is not only lying on the operating table, dying right in front of you, but the city has been plunged in a huge black out, the back up generators don't work, terrorists have seized the hospital, and a large semi-helicopter just crashed through one of the walls, and, of course, the patient has a bomb strapped to their chest. Nevertheless, God shrugs His shoulders and says, "That's your problem." So, I have an Ice Cream Social this week, and the launch of a youth group program in two weeks, several youth events to plan, and meetings to attend, and people already questioning my committment to the program because I have to miss two weeks for basketball (see below). Yet, I wouldn't give it up, nor singing in the choir, nor playing the handbells, nor serving on the website committee, because a) I'm committed to the church and to my fellow Christians and to following the way of Jesus Christ. Between church and work, I've already committed over 50 hours a week.
Third, the education... So, what was I thinking then, when I decided to go back to school? What could have possibly lead me down this path? Yet, for the past two decades I've always had an outside project that was a means to furthering my education or enriching my knowledge in some way. Whether I was learning how to build websites, or Flash, or writing a Novel, or exploring the city and state, I have always been active in doing things that don't let me sit on my a$$ and watch TV. Going back to college, something I have been planning since I left the darn place, was just a logical next step in my educational plans. Two classes, plus an online class, and all the homework, reading, and projects that those classes entail, and suddenly my committment is well over 60 hours a week.
Fourth, the family... I'm including basketball here because as much as I love watching the college game, I wouldn't be doing the stats for USF if it weren't for family ties. An average of two games a week means an additional 6 hours of committment from November through March, and often at times when I really can least afford it. Yet, I dare not abandon this job because of its connection to my family. But there are other family committments as well. I really learned this lesson while working on the Novel, that as much as it helped get the story written, abandoning my family and friends for weeks and months on end while I wrote put a severe strain on my relationships and on my health. It seems that the more time you commit to other things, the more you have to make room for family and friends (which might be contradictory, but is certainly born out by life.) So, if I was doing 60 plus hours before, after I add family and friends to my list, that number grows to over 80 hours a week.
Fifth, the incidentals... And this is the Katrina like fear of anyone with 80 plus hours of committment already guaranteed - the incidentals, the surprises, and the things beyond our control. Illness, fatigue, lost hours, road blocks, detours... all of these things that seem to come out of nowhere and take what little time we already had and leave us with almost nothing for ourselves. We become shells of people, shadows, barely able to concentrate on one project while already planning the next one. If something should even go minorly wrong, the whole perfect schedule should collapse. It only takes one hole in a levee before flooding can occur, and sometimes only one more inch of rain will swamp an entire county. All I can do with the incidentals is hope that they aren't severe and see what I can do to minimize them.
So, what's left of me? What's left for time to watch TV? What's left for time to excersise? What's left for prayer and prayerful consideration? Am I a product of this fast paced world we live in? Or am I merely taking advantage of all this free time I've been granted? I don't know and I don't have time to contemplate the answers. Instead, I'll just keep plunging forward until I hit a wall and have to stop.
I apologize in advance if I'm absent a great deal these next few months. I'll be somewhere amongst the large waves of my life - trying to stay afloat and happy for a chance to swim.
First, the obvious... I have to work to make a living. Money doesn't grow on trees in California ever since they were all cut down to make way for freeways. So, working is a constant 9 to 5 interupption in the rest of my normal routine. Sometimes, I hardly notice it. And sometimes... Massive Sales Meeting, New products arriving, China Lead Tests everywhere, preparing for next year's big show and even more new products, inventory incredibly out of whack, two major orders in the same week depleting all of my stock... sometimes work can almost be a perfect storm in and of itself.
Second, the committments... Being a youth group leader can be fun, but getting a program restarted can feel a little bit like one of those intensely dramatic moments of E.R. - where the patient is not only lying on the operating table, dying right in front of you, but the city has been plunged in a huge black out, the back up generators don't work, terrorists have seized the hospital, and a large semi-helicopter just crashed through one of the walls, and, of course, the patient has a bomb strapped to their chest. Nevertheless, God shrugs His shoulders and says, "That's your problem." So, I have an Ice Cream Social this week, and the launch of a youth group program in two weeks, several youth events to plan, and meetings to attend, and people already questioning my committment to the program because I have to miss two weeks for basketball (see below). Yet, I wouldn't give it up, nor singing in the choir, nor playing the handbells, nor serving on the website committee, because a) I'm committed to the church and to my fellow Christians and to following the way of Jesus Christ. Between church and work, I've already committed over 50 hours a week.
Third, the education... So, what was I thinking then, when I decided to go back to school? What could have possibly lead me down this path? Yet, for the past two decades I've always had an outside project that was a means to furthering my education or enriching my knowledge in some way. Whether I was learning how to build websites, or Flash, or writing a Novel, or exploring the city and state, I have always been active in doing things that don't let me sit on my a$$ and watch TV. Going back to college, something I have been planning since I left the darn place, was just a logical next step in my educational plans. Two classes, plus an online class, and all the homework, reading, and projects that those classes entail, and suddenly my committment is well over 60 hours a week.
Fourth, the family... I'm including basketball here because as much as I love watching the college game, I wouldn't be doing the stats for USF if it weren't for family ties. An average of two games a week means an additional 6 hours of committment from November through March, and often at times when I really can least afford it. Yet, I dare not abandon this job because of its connection to my family. But there are other family committments as well. I really learned this lesson while working on the Novel, that as much as it helped get the story written, abandoning my family and friends for weeks and months on end while I wrote put a severe strain on my relationships and on my health. It seems that the more time you commit to other things, the more you have to make room for family and friends (which might be contradictory, but is certainly born out by life.) So, if I was doing 60 plus hours before, after I add family and friends to my list, that number grows to over 80 hours a week.
Fifth, the incidentals... And this is the Katrina like fear of anyone with 80 plus hours of committment already guaranteed - the incidentals, the surprises, and the things beyond our control. Illness, fatigue, lost hours, road blocks, detours... all of these things that seem to come out of nowhere and take what little time we already had and leave us with almost nothing for ourselves. We become shells of people, shadows, barely able to concentrate on one project while already planning the next one. If something should even go minorly wrong, the whole perfect schedule should collapse. It only takes one hole in a levee before flooding can occur, and sometimes only one more inch of rain will swamp an entire county. All I can do with the incidentals is hope that they aren't severe and see what I can do to minimize them.
So, what's left of me? What's left for time to watch TV? What's left for time to excersise? What's left for prayer and prayerful consideration? Am I a product of this fast paced world we live in? Or am I merely taking advantage of all this free time I've been granted? I don't know and I don't have time to contemplate the answers. Instead, I'll just keep plunging forward until I hit a wall and have to stop.
I apologize in advance if I'm absent a great deal these next few months. I'll be somewhere amongst the large waves of my life - trying to stay afloat and happy for a chance to swim.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Sports and the Law - Several Case Studies
We can probably start the blame with OJ - a charismatic former sports star and Hall of Famer who allegedly killed his ex-wife and her "friend" one evening in Los Angeles. We all think we know what happened, but truth be told, we don't have a clue. We have some facts. They have some other facts. And there are a whole lot of facts missing. The case, interestingly, divided the populace in half largely on racial lines. White people tended to overwhelmingly believe the man guilty, black people believed him innocent. What we can say with a certain amount of conviction (pun intended) is that a jury of his peers after sitting through the trial of the century, found him Not Guilty of all charges. Whether through courtroom dramatics or lack of evidence or a sincere disbelief in the prosecution's case, OJ walked free. And has been relatively vilified ever since.
So in the case of the People vs. OJ, we have to say OJ 1, the People 2. People win. OJ loses.
About five years later, we started hearing rumors of steroid use in baseball. The funny thing is that these rumors were just rumors until the federal government decided to arrest the owners and operators of the BALCO lab that was allegedly supplying athletes with the performance enhancing drugs. This led to a Grand Jury and to testimony and to leaked testimony and to all sorts of accusations flying everywhere. But as to actual justice? So far, the only people tried and convicted were those first arrested - the BALCO Lab people.
Of course, you know, this is where I go off on Barry Bonds. I have defended Barry Bonds again and again not because of my belief in whether he used steroids or not, but in my belief that he has not been afforded an opportunity to actually defend himself. He has never been on trial. He has never been accused of anything. And after more than five years of accusations and recriminations, nobody has ever actually filed any charges against him. Nevertheless, Barry Bonds has been accused and found guilty by the general public without ever letting the slugger explain his side of the story. Clearly a text book case of mob justice.
In this case, Barry 0, Mob 1. The Mob wins. Barry loses.
In Duke, the same Mob was ready to tar and feather the members of the Duke LaCrosse team after an overzealous prosecutor used the case against them to get reelected despite the fact that there was little evidence to support the charges. The Duke LaCrosse team had to forfeit the rest of the season, the coach lost his job, and four players were arrested and spent years in jail and under suspicion before being cleared of all charges.
In this case, LaCrosse Team 0, Mob 1. The Mob won. Justice lost.
But this post is actually not about OJ, Barry, or the Duke LaCrosse team. It's about Michael Vick. Here is a man who has been accused of creating, and operating, a dog fighting ring. Being a dog owner, I found the charges to be the sort of thing that made me sick and I was incredibly upset about the whole concept. However, I held out hope that the entire thing had been some sort of misunderstanding. I hoped for the man's innocence. Not because I like Michael Vick - I don't, and I think he's a lousy football QB as well - but because its what we're supposed to do as Americans, believe in each other's innocence, until we can prove guilt.
In Vick's case, the NFL acted as they needed to, taking the position of innocent until proven guilty. They did not allow mob justice to ruin a man on the basis of incredible accusations. And they let the system play out the way it was supposed to. That Vick justified everyone's hatred by agreeing to plead guilty yesterday does not mean that the NFL didn't act swiftly enough to punish Vick. What it means is that the NFL has respect not only for the letter of the law, but for its intent as well.
I am glad Vick is going to jail. And I hope they lock him away for a very long time. And if it should ever be proven that OJ killed his ex-wife, I will be happy to see him behind bars. And if Barry should ever be convicted of using steroids, he should go there as well. And the same thing with the members of the Duke LaCrosse Team. But we have a system of laws in the country that are founded on a basic principle of innocent until proven guilty. It is a system of law that we need to protect and preserve especially in light of situations like these. I don't care if you are the biggest scumbag on the planet, you ought to be proven guilty every time. I know that its something I'd want people to take seriously if I were ever accused of doing something that I'd not done, and I bet you'd want the same if it were to ever happen to you. If you are guilty, then you should do jail time... but only after we prove it.
So in the case of the People vs. OJ, we have to say OJ 1, the People 2. People win. OJ loses.
About five years later, we started hearing rumors of steroid use in baseball. The funny thing is that these rumors were just rumors until the federal government decided to arrest the owners and operators of the BALCO lab that was allegedly supplying athletes with the performance enhancing drugs. This led to a Grand Jury and to testimony and to leaked testimony and to all sorts of accusations flying everywhere. But as to actual justice? So far, the only people tried and convicted were those first arrested - the BALCO Lab people.
Of course, you know, this is where I go off on Barry Bonds. I have defended Barry Bonds again and again not because of my belief in whether he used steroids or not, but in my belief that he has not been afforded an opportunity to actually defend himself. He has never been on trial. He has never been accused of anything. And after more than five years of accusations and recriminations, nobody has ever actually filed any charges against him. Nevertheless, Barry Bonds has been accused and found guilty by the general public without ever letting the slugger explain his side of the story. Clearly a text book case of mob justice.
In this case, Barry 0, Mob 1. The Mob wins. Barry loses.
In Duke, the same Mob was ready to tar and feather the members of the Duke LaCrosse team after an overzealous prosecutor used the case against them to get reelected despite the fact that there was little evidence to support the charges. The Duke LaCrosse team had to forfeit the rest of the season, the coach lost his job, and four players were arrested and spent years in jail and under suspicion before being cleared of all charges.
In this case, LaCrosse Team 0, Mob 1. The Mob won. Justice lost.
But this post is actually not about OJ, Barry, or the Duke LaCrosse team. It's about Michael Vick. Here is a man who has been accused of creating, and operating, a dog fighting ring. Being a dog owner, I found the charges to be the sort of thing that made me sick and I was incredibly upset about the whole concept. However, I held out hope that the entire thing had been some sort of misunderstanding. I hoped for the man's innocence. Not because I like Michael Vick - I don't, and I think he's a lousy football QB as well - but because its what we're supposed to do as Americans, believe in each other's innocence, until we can prove guilt.
In Vick's case, the NFL acted as they needed to, taking the position of innocent until proven guilty. They did not allow mob justice to ruin a man on the basis of incredible accusations. And they let the system play out the way it was supposed to. That Vick justified everyone's hatred by agreeing to plead guilty yesterday does not mean that the NFL didn't act swiftly enough to punish Vick. What it means is that the NFL has respect not only for the letter of the law, but for its intent as well.
I am glad Vick is going to jail. And I hope they lock him away for a very long time. And if it should ever be proven that OJ killed his ex-wife, I will be happy to see him behind bars. And if Barry should ever be convicted of using steroids, he should go there as well. And the same thing with the members of the Duke LaCrosse Team. But we have a system of laws in the country that are founded on a basic principle of innocent until proven guilty. It is a system of law that we need to protect and preserve especially in light of situations like these. I don't care if you are the biggest scumbag on the planet, you ought to be proven guilty every time. I know that its something I'd want people to take seriously if I were ever accused of doing something that I'd not done, and I bet you'd want the same if it were to ever happen to you. If you are guilty, then you should do jail time... but only after we prove it.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Agony
It was cold there in the church pew as my hand hovered over my hip pocket. Up at the pulpit, I could see the Pastor doing the same. Our eyes locked. Somewhere in the distance, a clock ticked, a dog howled. A tumbleweed rolled between us. I used my tongue to move the cheroot from one side of my mouth to the other. I squinted. We stared. And then, in a blinding flash, I drew.
It was sweet agony.
I am not a rich person - not by any stretch of the imagination. I am owned more by giant money grubbing corporations than most people. I have never in my whole life owned anything close to even $10,000 (except debt... I've owned a LOT of debt) and that includes properties (though maybe at one time if I had sold my entire X-Men collection when the going was good... but even then I doubt it). As a result I know the value of every cent I have and can usually stretch it to go as far as I possibly can. I've lived on the edge of poverty for so long, I've forgotten that there is a rich center out there somewhere. If I were to ever win the lottery, I wouldn't know what to do with the money.
I had $40 in my wallet. Two $20's and nothing smaller. I needed that money. There were plenty of people in the congregation who had infinitely more than I did - let them put money in the collection plate. If I put a $20 bill in the collection plate, I might not eat this week.
Wave after wave of convictions hit me in the face. The sermon was about having faith. The anthem was about keeping a lamp lit for God. Again and again, I kept thinking about that old woman who only had one copper coin and she had more faith than all the fat cats of Jerusalem because it was her only coin. Surely that didn't apply to me? Surely the old woman had food back in her apartment? Wasn't the one copper coin the only money the old woman had left AFTER a day out at the hair dresser and the florist and a nice meal with her grandchildren? Yes. No. And No. Quit changing the subject.
It was Jesus who saw the woman's sacrifice. Nobody else even paid any attention to her. Yet, I imagined the look on the priest's faces when they collected that offering and saw the single copper coin. "Who threw that in there? They might as well not have even bothered! What are we going to do with one copper coin? We can't pay our electricity bill. We can't feed our priests. We can't even run a website with this coin. Some people have no respect for the Lord." It was Jesus who saw this woman's suffering, who knew what one measly copper coin meant to her, who could see that she would go hungry that night for lack of food, who could see that tomorrow she would be out working and hustling for more coins and that she would make the same sacrifice again and again and again because while she didn't have much, she loved God and she honored God and she returned to God what He had given her so that it might be used to help those even less fortunate than herself. Jesus saw this and He had to point it out to the disciples. Her sacrifice became one of His greatest lessons. And her faith was counted as righteousness.
I pictured the miners trapped in that mine. And I pictured those monsoon victims in India and Bangladesh. And I pictured homeless people on the streets without food or shelter. I could chance it. I could have faith that my sacrifice would not go in vain and that even if I suffered a little, my $20 might go a long way to helping those who suffered a lot.
In the end, though I agonized for half an hour, drawing the $20 from my wallet was easy. Placing it in the collection plate was almost a relief. And I quickly forgot about it.
Except...
I started agonizing about whether I should have put all $40 in the collection plate. I still have so long to go.
It was sweet agony.
I am not a rich person - not by any stretch of the imagination. I am owned more by giant money grubbing corporations than most people. I have never in my whole life owned anything close to even $10,000 (except debt... I've owned a LOT of debt) and that includes properties (though maybe at one time if I had sold my entire X-Men collection when the going was good... but even then I doubt it). As a result I know the value of every cent I have and can usually stretch it to go as far as I possibly can. I've lived on the edge of poverty for so long, I've forgotten that there is a rich center out there somewhere. If I were to ever win the lottery, I wouldn't know what to do with the money.
I had $40 in my wallet. Two $20's and nothing smaller. I needed that money. There were plenty of people in the congregation who had infinitely more than I did - let them put money in the collection plate. If I put a $20 bill in the collection plate, I might not eat this week.
Wave after wave of convictions hit me in the face. The sermon was about having faith. The anthem was about keeping a lamp lit for God. Again and again, I kept thinking about that old woman who only had one copper coin and she had more faith than all the fat cats of Jerusalem because it was her only coin. Surely that didn't apply to me? Surely the old woman had food back in her apartment? Wasn't the one copper coin the only money the old woman had left AFTER a day out at the hair dresser and the florist and a nice meal with her grandchildren? Yes. No. And No. Quit changing the subject.
It was Jesus who saw the woman's sacrifice. Nobody else even paid any attention to her. Yet, I imagined the look on the priest's faces when they collected that offering and saw the single copper coin. "Who threw that in there? They might as well not have even bothered! What are we going to do with one copper coin? We can't pay our electricity bill. We can't feed our priests. We can't even run a website with this coin. Some people have no respect for the Lord." It was Jesus who saw this woman's suffering, who knew what one measly copper coin meant to her, who could see that she would go hungry that night for lack of food, who could see that tomorrow she would be out working and hustling for more coins and that she would make the same sacrifice again and again and again because while she didn't have much, she loved God and she honored God and she returned to God what He had given her so that it might be used to help those even less fortunate than herself. Jesus saw this and He had to point it out to the disciples. Her sacrifice became one of His greatest lessons. And her faith was counted as righteousness.
I pictured the miners trapped in that mine. And I pictured those monsoon victims in India and Bangladesh. And I pictured homeless people on the streets without food or shelter. I could chance it. I could have faith that my sacrifice would not go in vain and that even if I suffered a little, my $20 might go a long way to helping those who suffered a lot.
In the end, though I agonized for half an hour, drawing the $20 from my wallet was easy. Placing it in the collection plate was almost a relief. And I quickly forgot about it.
Except...
I started agonizing about whether I should have put all $40 in the collection plate. I still have so long to go.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
A N N O U N C E M E N T ! ! !
I'm
(Scroll Down)
Pregnant
Pause...
(Scroll Down)
Expecting
You All
To visit my new website: WWW.HELPWILLTRAIN.ORG
(whenever it is finally finished... ;)
Over the next 12 months I have an ambitious plan to transform myself from overweight wallflower (to wallflowers what the ivy at Wrigley Field is to hanging plants) into studmuffin extraordinaire, Will T. Thrill (the last of the red hot louvers ;)
In order to accomplish this amazing feat - a task so monumental that tunneling under the English Channel looks easy by comparison - I will need a dedicated group of volunteers to help me train for this task. I will need physical trainers and weight training coaches and people to hike with me and people to kick me when I'm down and people to pray for me and people to not tempt me with ooozy thick pepperoni pizza with extra cheese, mushrooms, some of those spicy flakes that you pour on top with the parmesan cheese and... uh, where was I?
Anyway, that's where I need all of your help. You see, it occurred to me the other day that its more fun to be in agony with friends, family, and other assorted oddballs and so I thought it might be an interesting experiment to spread the wealth, so to speak. If I could, then, find a way to arrange it so that when I decide to go for a jog on a Friday evening, someone could join me and tell me I run like a girl (or guy, depending on the gender of this jogging companion), I thought I might actually tone up, tune in, and avoid take out a lot faster.
So, my trusty HELP WILL TRAIN webmaster and computer guru, Carl Tanner and I have been secretly developing the latest technology over the past, oh, six days or so, to create just such a website. This was all going to be explained to you in a fantastic film that I've been creating for the site, but, alas, I have run out of time. You'll just have to wait to see the film when the site goes active sometime tomorrow evening.
Anti-climactic, right? Would it help if I said I can prove that Global Warming is true? No, probably not, huh... I've dashed your expectations that I was a)Winning the lottery and would treat you all to a trip to Disney World, b)Meeting a man in Paris whose kind and wonderful and I'm getting married (Father of the Bride, in case you were wondering), or c)Discovered my long lost twin while at summer camp this year. Well, get over it. Compared to your deflated expectations, my problems are colossal!
And now... on with your lives...
(Scroll Down)
Pregnant
Pause...
(Scroll Down)
Expecting
You All
To visit my new website: WWW.HELPWILLTRAIN.ORG
(whenever it is finally finished... ;)
Over the next 12 months I have an ambitious plan to transform myself from overweight wallflower (to wallflowers what the ivy at Wrigley Field is to hanging plants) into studmuffin extraordinaire, Will T. Thrill (the last of the red hot louvers ;)
In order to accomplish this amazing feat - a task so monumental that tunneling under the English Channel looks easy by comparison - I will need a dedicated group of volunteers to help me train for this task. I will need physical trainers and weight training coaches and people to hike with me and people to kick me when I'm down and people to pray for me and people to not tempt me with ooozy thick pepperoni pizza with extra cheese, mushrooms, some of those spicy flakes that you pour on top with the parmesan cheese and... uh, where was I?
Anyway, that's where I need all of your help. You see, it occurred to me the other day that its more fun to be in agony with friends, family, and other assorted oddballs and so I thought it might be an interesting experiment to spread the wealth, so to speak. If I could, then, find a way to arrange it so that when I decide to go for a jog on a Friday evening, someone could join me and tell me I run like a girl (or guy, depending on the gender of this jogging companion), I thought I might actually tone up, tune in, and avoid take out a lot faster.
So, my trusty HELP WILL TRAIN webmaster and computer guru, Carl Tanner and I have been secretly developing the latest technology over the past, oh, six days or so, to create just such a website. This was all going to be explained to you in a fantastic film that I've been creating for the site, but, alas, I have run out of time. You'll just have to wait to see the film when the site goes active sometime tomorrow evening.
Anti-climactic, right? Would it help if I said I can prove that Global Warming is true? No, probably not, huh... I've dashed your expectations that I was a)Winning the lottery and would treat you all to a trip to Disney World, b)Meeting a man in Paris whose kind and wonderful and I'm getting married (Father of the Bride, in case you were wondering), or c)Discovered my long lost twin while at summer camp this year. Well, get over it. Compared to your deflated expectations, my problems are colossal!
And now... on with your lives...
Is there room for a Hallelujah in your IPOD?
So before the announcement, a little update news:
I've been having computer problems here at work and as a result, some of the elements of the announcement have not yet materialized (despite working until 1am each of the last two nights). So some elements may be delayed. I had actually thought about delaying the announcement until tomorrow, but even more recent events made me realize that tomorrow might be optimistic as well.
You see, its my birthday today. And while I was dealing with computer problems, my cell phone suddenly burst into life chirping out an electronic muzac version of the Hallelujah Chorus. Just the sheer insanity of this little electronic Hallelujah already had me laughing, but then I saw who the phone call was from - my co-youth group leader at church (hence the Hallelujah chorus), Katie. I answered the phone.
Every year at this time, when I actually get around to start thinking about my birthday (38 is sooo bland!), a little tiny thought pops into my head - what would I really want for my birthday? These are the sorts of questions that usually don't get much play in my world. I just don't think about them all that often. But once a year, I entertain the thought out of a mere formality. Well, this year I had a ready answer. For several years now, I've been dying to see the Broadway Musical Avenue Q - the one with the muppets. Well, its finally arriving in San Francisco this week for a short stay and I was thinking that it'd be cool to go. But tickets are really expensive and well, quite frankly, I'm not worth it. Its only my 38th birthday - nothing special about that. And so, I let the thought die inside my mind - never aired, never mentioned, never even reconsidered.
So, Hallelujah Chorus, friend from church, my birthday... yes, you guessed it. "Hey Will, my co-worker has two tickets to tonight's Avenue Q at the Orpheum. Can you go?" God has a wicked sense of humor and timing. For the record, Katie had no idea it was my birthday.
So, that, in addition to everything else, is what is causing this delay in things for the Announcement - which I will make shortly after lunch.
See you soon.
I've been having computer problems here at work and as a result, some of the elements of the announcement have not yet materialized (despite working until 1am each of the last two nights). So some elements may be delayed. I had actually thought about delaying the announcement until tomorrow, but even more recent events made me realize that tomorrow might be optimistic as well.
You see, its my birthday today. And while I was dealing with computer problems, my cell phone suddenly burst into life chirping out an electronic muzac version of the Hallelujah Chorus. Just the sheer insanity of this little electronic Hallelujah already had me laughing, but then I saw who the phone call was from - my co-youth group leader at church (hence the Hallelujah chorus), Katie. I answered the phone.
Every year at this time, when I actually get around to start thinking about my birthday (38 is sooo bland!), a little tiny thought pops into my head - what would I really want for my birthday? These are the sorts of questions that usually don't get much play in my world. I just don't think about them all that often. But once a year, I entertain the thought out of a mere formality. Well, this year I had a ready answer. For several years now, I've been dying to see the Broadway Musical Avenue Q - the one with the muppets. Well, its finally arriving in San Francisco this week for a short stay and I was thinking that it'd be cool to go. But tickets are really expensive and well, quite frankly, I'm not worth it. Its only my 38th birthday - nothing special about that. And so, I let the thought die inside my mind - never aired, never mentioned, never even reconsidered.
So, Hallelujah Chorus, friend from church, my birthday... yes, you guessed it. "Hey Will, my co-worker has two tickets to tonight's Avenue Q at the Orpheum. Can you go?" God has a wicked sense of humor and timing. For the record, Katie had no idea it was my birthday.
So, that, in addition to everything else, is what is causing this delay in things for the Announcement - which I will make shortly after lunch.
See you soon.
Monday, August 06, 2007
The 37 Year, 11 Month, 360 Day Revirgin
I have finally succeeded in reacquiring my virgin status. And let me tell you that it was not easy. They don't just let anyone become a virgin again - they have to prove a committment to being a renewed virgin, a sign, a test of loyalty, a sacrifice of one's sexual status. Well, I have now made that sacrifice and have attained the certificate that shall hang proudly in my bedroom like a diploma. I have been revirginated.
You see, yesterday, in honor of my birthday I received this ultimate gift in the form of two packages - birthday presents. One was an authentic, never before used, still in collector's packaging, Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest Comforter. The other was an authentic, never before used, still in collector's packaging, Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest Linen Package consisting of one fitted sheet, one regular sheet, and one pillow case.
Now, unlike you married men out there who are probably drooling over the possibilities of such fine linen knowing that you will never convince your significant others of allowing you to put such cool things on your marriage bed, I don't have that problem. And seeing as how a) My secondary comforter has been completely shredded by the dogs who find it a nice warm place to snuggle up during the afternoon with their long sharp claws and b) I actually liked Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest, and c) I don't plan on having sex any time in the near future; I have absolutely no problems stripping my plain old linens from my bed and replacing them with such fine, and comfortable might I add, bed dressings.
So now, as the centerpiece of my extreme bedroom makeover, I have a bed that looks like a giant pirate treasure map complete with doubloons, compass points, and Dead Men Tell No Tales skull. That this would normally have an adverse effect on my sex life is not in doubt. That I have no sex life to worry about affecting is also not in doubt. I can easily give up that which I no longer need in order to claim the title of Revirgin.
That being said... this is not the big announcement that is coming on Thursday.
Other things that are NOT the big announcement coming on Thursday include:
1) I am not announcing my bid for the 2008 Presidential election.
2) I am not reenlisting in the Navy (they wouldn't let me keep my cool sheets).
3) I am not revealing my true identity as the long lost half sister of Sheila who has been hiding out after escaping a terrible fire at the orphanage and fighting off the advances of Monica who thinks that I am mild mannered Will.
4) I have not discovered the cure for Cancer.
5) I was not on the grassy knoll.
6) I have not discovered a hidden map on the back of the Magna Carta.
7) I do not have any evidence of Bond's steroid use.
8) I have not discovered the Grand Unification Theory of Everything.
9) I did not win the Pillsbury Bake Off.
And
10) ICON was not nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature.
As to what the true announcement on Thursday will be... you will just have to wait until then to find out.
Avoiding the plagues,
Will
You see, yesterday, in honor of my birthday I received this ultimate gift in the form of two packages - birthday presents. One was an authentic, never before used, still in collector's packaging, Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest Comforter. The other was an authentic, never before used, still in collector's packaging, Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest Linen Package consisting of one fitted sheet, one regular sheet, and one pillow case.
Now, unlike you married men out there who are probably drooling over the possibilities of such fine linen knowing that you will never convince your significant others of allowing you to put such cool things on your marriage bed, I don't have that problem. And seeing as how a) My secondary comforter has been completely shredded by the dogs who find it a nice warm place to snuggle up during the afternoon with their long sharp claws and b) I actually liked Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest, and c) I don't plan on having sex any time in the near future; I have absolutely no problems stripping my plain old linens from my bed and replacing them with such fine, and comfortable might I add, bed dressings.
So now, as the centerpiece of my extreme bedroom makeover, I have a bed that looks like a giant pirate treasure map complete with doubloons, compass points, and Dead Men Tell No Tales skull. That this would normally have an adverse effect on my sex life is not in doubt. That I have no sex life to worry about affecting is also not in doubt. I can easily give up that which I no longer need in order to claim the title of Revirgin.
That being said... this is not the big announcement that is coming on Thursday.
Other things that are NOT the big announcement coming on Thursday include:
1) I am not announcing my bid for the 2008 Presidential election.
2) I am not reenlisting in the Navy (they wouldn't let me keep my cool sheets).
3) I am not revealing my true identity as the long lost half sister of Sheila who has been hiding out after escaping a terrible fire at the orphanage and fighting off the advances of Monica who thinks that I am mild mannered Will.
4) I have not discovered the cure for Cancer.
5) I was not on the grassy knoll.
6) I have not discovered a hidden map on the back of the Magna Carta.
7) I do not have any evidence of Bond's steroid use.
8) I have not discovered the Grand Unification Theory of Everything.
9) I did not win the Pillsbury Bake Off.
And
10) ICON was not nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature.
As to what the true announcement on Thursday will be... you will just have to wait until then to find out.
Avoiding the plagues,
Will
Thursday, August 02, 2007
The Cream and The Clear and The Coffee...
So, it wasn't hives, after all, but a simple case of Static Dermatitis (I.E. It still itches like hell!). Oh, and I'm morbidly obese... but then we knew that last one.
Anyway, in light of the fact that I still itch and that I'm not supposed to scratch (apparently shredding my legs with my finger nails is not a good thing... but nothing compared with being morbidly obese), my doctor prescribed a topical cream that looks something like flax seed oil to rub on my legs in order to make the itching go away, temporarily, and cure the dermatitis.
Apparently, this cream has steroids in it. Steroids!? The bane of modern existence! I am no longer a pure athlete just competing for the love of the sport (and the money) now I have been tainted by steroids! Oh, will the suffering ever stop! And how come they don't have steroids to help you lose weight?! Darn it! Did I mention that I was morbidly obese?!
So I had this weird but powerful dream last night and I woke up this morning feeling refreshed and empowered - like I could manhandle linedrives from my shoe tops over four hundred feet into McCovey Cove. It got me to thinking about things and about how I could fix certain things.
Did you know that you could define morbid as having an obsession with death. Wow. Way to keep your prejudice out of a scientific term there skinny science boys - apparently, I am so fat that I have become obsessed with death. Say that to my face and I'll kill you! (Dang... 'roid rage is already kicking in!)
The long and the short of it (not that anything's shriveled... yet) is that if you check back at this blog in one week, there will be a major announcement. I think. If I haven't already got a shoe contract by then. So, once again, Major Announcement, One Week From Today!
And now I shut up tighter than Scholastic Books! So don't ask. No hints given.
Anyway, in light of the fact that I still itch and that I'm not supposed to scratch (apparently shredding my legs with my finger nails is not a good thing... but nothing compared with being morbidly obese), my doctor prescribed a topical cream that looks something like flax seed oil to rub on my legs in order to make the itching go away, temporarily, and cure the dermatitis.
Apparently, this cream has steroids in it. Steroids!? The bane of modern existence! I am no longer a pure athlete just competing for the love of the sport (and the money) now I have been tainted by steroids! Oh, will the suffering ever stop! And how come they don't have steroids to help you lose weight?! Darn it! Did I mention that I was morbidly obese?!
So I had this weird but powerful dream last night and I woke up this morning feeling refreshed and empowered - like I could manhandle linedrives from my shoe tops over four hundred feet into McCovey Cove. It got me to thinking about things and about how I could fix certain things.
Did you know that you could define morbid as having an obsession with death. Wow. Way to keep your prejudice out of a scientific term there skinny science boys - apparently, I am so fat that I have become obsessed with death. Say that to my face and I'll kill you! (Dang... 'roid rage is already kicking in!)
The long and the short of it (not that anything's shriveled... yet) is that if you check back at this blog in one week, there will be a major announcement. I think. If I haven't already got a shoe contract by then. So, once again, Major Announcement, One Week From Today!
And now I shut up tighter than Scholastic Books! So don't ask. No hints given.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Help! I've Fallen and I can't get up!
So much of sin seems to be a failure that we don't recognize sin for what it really is - a lifestyle, a condition of human nature, something that we simply can't get over. We are sin. We wallow in it. We breathe it. We absorb it in our skin. Everything we say or do or touch or taste is tainted by it. We can try to ignore it. We can try to counter it. But ultimately we are flawed creatures by nature.
I love cheeseburgers. I love the taste of cheddar bursting in my mouth, mixed with the saltiness of the beef, the crispness of a fresh bun, the tang of pickles, the sharpness of fresh onions, and the sweet flavor of the catsup - all mixing together to form a sensation that my mind registers as pleasure. Pleasure - that feeling that all is right with the world, even for a split second - is what really drives me. I love the feeling of pleasure and I try to surround myself and do things that create that sensation. It is a moment of bliss, a feeling of being most alive. And ultimately, it is a dead end. Because I can't maintain that feeling. It is a high, a narcotic, an obsession. And this week, its a cheeseburger that helps me feel that pleasure. And next week, a single cheeseburger doesn't help me at all. It tastes like cardboard, so I add bacon to the mix. And the following week, I have two cheeseburgers. And then three. And then three with bacon. And then I change to chicken sandwiches, and that lasts a while. Then I mix them. Then I add a milkshake. But it is never enough. I am chasing something that I can never catch, that I can never predictably reproduce, and the efforts of pursuing pleasure are destroying me.
This is human nature.
In Le Jardin du Eden, Adam and Eve had everything they could possibly want - food, companionship, water, space, animals, the whole world at their fingertips. They walked hand in hand with God who would have given them anything they wanted... but one thing. And that was what Adam and Eve wanted the most. They weren't satisfied with what they already had. They were looking for that new high, that new pleasure, that thing that would be better than anything else they'd ever tried. They threw away all that they had to go after that next thing. And it left them with a mouth full of ashes and pain and death. They fell not from wanting more, but from being unable to control their urge to want more, their urge to want everything. They fell because they tried to make their obsession into their reality.
Right now I am suffering from Hives. I can't tell you how or why I have hives, but I am beginning to understand the suffering of Job. Hives itch like you wouldn't believe. And it takes all my self control to keep from scratching myself. One little scratch and I can't stop. I have to get at the itch. And I scratch and scratch and scratch until little rivers of blood are running down my legs - I scratch myself until I bleed, and still the itch does not go away. I keep scratching with the hope of finding the pleasure of itch relief and it don't even stop when I have blood pooling around my legs. I keep going because I know that sooner or later, the itch will give way to pain and pain is a far easier thing to handle than that crazy desire to itch. Pain may not be pleasure, but it is not obsession either. It is far better to be in pain than to be obsessed.
To choose sin is to choose pain. To give in to the itching until you are literally ripping the skin off your body is to give in to pain. Obsession always leaves to pain. Obsession always leads to sin. Sin leads to death.
But the good news is that even though we are born this way, and even though we can't help ourselves and give in to our obsessions to seek whatever pleasure it is that we can't live without, there is hope. Jesus died for our obsessions. Jesus died so that we might find relief from the pain of obsession. Jesus died to bring us into a place where there is no pain, and their is no suffering, and their is no obsession. Jesus died so that we might live - truly live.
Oh, to be without the desire for cheeseburgers or scratching or any of the hundreds of other obsessions I have; to be able to supplant all my wants and desires and replace them with a life of giving and caring and loving others - that is my fondest wish. But right now, I've fallen, and I can't get up.
Only Jesus can save me now.
I love cheeseburgers. I love the taste of cheddar bursting in my mouth, mixed with the saltiness of the beef, the crispness of a fresh bun, the tang of pickles, the sharpness of fresh onions, and the sweet flavor of the catsup - all mixing together to form a sensation that my mind registers as pleasure. Pleasure - that feeling that all is right with the world, even for a split second - is what really drives me. I love the feeling of pleasure and I try to surround myself and do things that create that sensation. It is a moment of bliss, a feeling of being most alive. And ultimately, it is a dead end. Because I can't maintain that feeling. It is a high, a narcotic, an obsession. And this week, its a cheeseburger that helps me feel that pleasure. And next week, a single cheeseburger doesn't help me at all. It tastes like cardboard, so I add bacon to the mix. And the following week, I have two cheeseburgers. And then three. And then three with bacon. And then I change to chicken sandwiches, and that lasts a while. Then I mix them. Then I add a milkshake. But it is never enough. I am chasing something that I can never catch, that I can never predictably reproduce, and the efforts of pursuing pleasure are destroying me.
This is human nature.
In Le Jardin du Eden, Adam and Eve had everything they could possibly want - food, companionship, water, space, animals, the whole world at their fingertips. They walked hand in hand with God who would have given them anything they wanted... but one thing. And that was what Adam and Eve wanted the most. They weren't satisfied with what they already had. They were looking for that new high, that new pleasure, that thing that would be better than anything else they'd ever tried. They threw away all that they had to go after that next thing. And it left them with a mouth full of ashes and pain and death. They fell not from wanting more, but from being unable to control their urge to want more, their urge to want everything. They fell because they tried to make their obsession into their reality.
Right now I am suffering from Hives. I can't tell you how or why I have hives, but I am beginning to understand the suffering of Job. Hives itch like you wouldn't believe. And it takes all my self control to keep from scratching myself. One little scratch and I can't stop. I have to get at the itch. And I scratch and scratch and scratch until little rivers of blood are running down my legs - I scratch myself until I bleed, and still the itch does not go away. I keep scratching with the hope of finding the pleasure of itch relief and it don't even stop when I have blood pooling around my legs. I keep going because I know that sooner or later, the itch will give way to pain and pain is a far easier thing to handle than that crazy desire to itch. Pain may not be pleasure, but it is not obsession either. It is far better to be in pain than to be obsessed.
To choose sin is to choose pain. To give in to the itching until you are literally ripping the skin off your body is to give in to pain. Obsession always leaves to pain. Obsession always leads to sin. Sin leads to death.
But the good news is that even though we are born this way, and even though we can't help ourselves and give in to our obsessions to seek whatever pleasure it is that we can't live without, there is hope. Jesus died for our obsessions. Jesus died so that we might find relief from the pain of obsession. Jesus died to bring us into a place where there is no pain, and their is no suffering, and their is no obsession. Jesus died so that we might live - truly live.
Oh, to be without the desire for cheeseburgers or scratching or any of the hundreds of other obsessions I have; to be able to supplant all my wants and desires and replace them with a life of giving and caring and loving others - that is my fondest wish. But right now, I've fallen, and I can't get up.
Only Jesus can save me now.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Sinning is Contagious!
According to new fake scientific research from the Institute of Scientists Who Have Nothing Better To Do Than Come Up With Lame Solutions To Real Research Questions, sinning is contagious! The study finds that if you are a sinner, it is 100% likely that you have a friend or loved one who is also a sinner. This connection clearly shows that sinning must be contagious and is not, as once believed, a personal choice or a condition of birth.
"This sheds new light on the nature of sinning," says I.M. Wastingeverybodiestime. "Now that we understand the communal aspects of this disease, we might be able to create a vaccine that can prevent the transference of sin from one person to another."
In the meantime, the Institute recommends that we all hunker down and not associate with anyone else who might be a carrier of sin. "The less contact we have, the less likely we are to catch sin from someone else," says Dr. Dimbulb. "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of redemption."
After the press conference, the members of the Institute retreated quietly into their own caves until such time as all sin had passed out of this world and the epidemic has passed. They haven't been seen from since.
"This sheds new light on the nature of sinning," says I.M. Wastingeverybodiestime. "Now that we understand the communal aspects of this disease, we might be able to create a vaccine that can prevent the transference of sin from one person to another."
In the meantime, the Institute recommends that we all hunker down and not associate with anyone else who might be a carrier of sin. "The less contact we have, the less likely we are to catch sin from someone else," says Dr. Dimbulb. "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of redemption."
After the press conference, the members of the Institute retreated quietly into their own caves until such time as all sin had passed out of this world and the epidemic has passed. They haven't been seen from since.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Faith vs. Science - Back to Square One
The obvious answer to a scientist non-belief about God is, of course, to point out the incredible vastness of the universe and say, "Do you really believe that all this just sprang into creation out of nothing and for no purpose?" For those of us who believe, the answer is, of course not. It must have been created by something and for a specific purpose. Something as big as the universe doesn't just happen.
Well, it just occurred to me that the same argument can be applied to God Himself by scientists. I.E. If something as big as the universe doesn't just happen, then how does God just happen? Or to put it another way, if God created the universe, who created God?
Putting the mumbling and grumbling aside for a while, we are forced to admit that scientist have a point and that it still comes down to an issue of faith. We are never going to reason God into existence and we are never going to reason Him out of existence. Ultimately, we are simply left with a choice. Do we believe or don't we? If there was proof one way or the other, we'd be pretty foolish to ignore it and we wouldn't really need faith.
So what kind of person are you? The kind who believes everything just happens? Or the kind who believes there's a purpose to everything? I think that pretty much sums up the question.
Well, it just occurred to me that the same argument can be applied to God Himself by scientists. I.E. If something as big as the universe doesn't just happen, then how does God just happen? Or to put it another way, if God created the universe, who created God?
Putting the mumbling and grumbling aside for a while, we are forced to admit that scientist have a point and that it still comes down to an issue of faith. We are never going to reason God into existence and we are never going to reason Him out of existence. Ultimately, we are simply left with a choice. Do we believe or don't we? If there was proof one way or the other, we'd be pretty foolish to ignore it and we wouldn't really need faith.
So what kind of person are you? The kind who believes everything just happens? Or the kind who believes there's a purpose to everything? I think that pretty much sums up the question.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Bush Government Supresses The Truth! EVIDENCE!
Somewhere deep in the bowels of the White House...
"Well, Bat Boy, now that you've returned from Iraq what should we do now? Should I send you to the moon to rescue Lincoln's brain? Or maybe have you raise Mrs. Cheney's alien baby? Or perhaps you could once and for all prove that Kennedy was killed by Cuban zombie assassins?"
"No, Mr. President, it is my patriotic duty to defend this country and our boys and girls overseas from an insidious danger - a magazine that is leaking the truth to the unsuspecting masses. Ever since they revealed the truth about the Space Shuttle being powered by alien technology, I haven't had a moment's peace. We must stop them!"
"You don't mean..."
"Yes, Mr. President... I intend to shut down the Weekly World News and keep their truths from reaching the light of the world."
"You think that'll stop them?"
"Unless there is some other brave soul out there willing to take their place, yes."
And so, back at TAC Headquarters...
"A toast to Weekly World News! You kept us entertained (and cough cough, informed) for nearly thirty years!"
"To the Weekly World News!"
"And now, people, we've got work to do. There are so many undiscovered truths out there! We must find them and bring them to the light of the world! We must take up their mantle and be a beacon of truth! Let's get started with our first story... Bush Government Supresses The Truth!"
And so, the Truth rolls on...
IN MEMORIAM
WEEKLY WORLD NEWS
1979 - 2007
"Well, Bat Boy, now that you've returned from Iraq what should we do now? Should I send you to the moon to rescue Lincoln's brain? Or maybe have you raise Mrs. Cheney's alien baby? Or perhaps you could once and for all prove that Kennedy was killed by Cuban zombie assassins?"
"No, Mr. President, it is my patriotic duty to defend this country and our boys and girls overseas from an insidious danger - a magazine that is leaking the truth to the unsuspecting masses. Ever since they revealed the truth about the Space Shuttle being powered by alien technology, I haven't had a moment's peace. We must stop them!"
"You don't mean..."
"Yes, Mr. President... I intend to shut down the Weekly World News and keep their truths from reaching the light of the world."
"You think that'll stop them?"
"Unless there is some other brave soul out there willing to take their place, yes."
And so, back at TAC Headquarters...
"A toast to Weekly World News! You kept us entertained (and cough cough, informed) for nearly thirty years!"
"To the Weekly World News!"
"And now, people, we've got work to do. There are so many undiscovered truths out there! We must find them and bring them to the light of the world! We must take up their mantle and be a beacon of truth! Let's get started with our first story... Bush Government Supresses The Truth!"
And so, the Truth rolls on...
IN MEMORIAM
WEEKLY WORLD NEWS
1979 - 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
Anticipation
They huddled together in line - a large group of them, talking excitedly amongst themselves.
"What do you think it'll be like?"
"I don't know, but I expect we'll finally have all the answers."
Up ahead, with some excitement, they could see that the line was moving and that a person at the front of the line was checking off their names and then handing them a book. With an excited squeal, the people receiving their books opened them immediately and plunged into the contents - smiling broadly as they walked through the doors just past the man and disappeared from sight.
"I can't wait. I've been waiting for this my whole life."
"It's just a little longer. In another couple of minutes, all the mysteries will be solved, all the heroes will get their rewards, and all the villains their comeuppance."
"I can't believe that some people are not in this line. This is like THE event."
"Not everyone agrees with you. Some people have better things to do."
"Better than this?! Do you remember that time when..."
"I remember it all - the good times, the bad times, the exciting parts, the scary parts, and the parts where I felt like I'd never fell happy again... Quite frankly, I'm glad its almost over and I can relax knowing that everyone is safe and happy for ever after."
The line surged forward again. The excited whispering seemed to be reaching a fever pitch as more and more people joined the line at the back and an exciting party like atmosphere was breaking out. After all, this event was only going to happen once and then never again. Everyone in line agreed, the wait had been worth it.
Finally, I reached the front of the line and it was my turn, my pleasurable turn. I walked up to the old man and waited patiently.
"Name?"
"Will Robison."
"Ah yes..." he said, "I've saved a place for you. Here's the Book. Welcome!"
And St. Peter handed me a copy of the Bible and the doors to my salvation opened before me. My anticipation was over. My Joy had just begun.
"What do you think it'll be like?"
"I don't know, but I expect we'll finally have all the answers."
Up ahead, with some excitement, they could see that the line was moving and that a person at the front of the line was checking off their names and then handing them a book. With an excited squeal, the people receiving their books opened them immediately and plunged into the contents - smiling broadly as they walked through the doors just past the man and disappeared from sight.
"I can't wait. I've been waiting for this my whole life."
"It's just a little longer. In another couple of minutes, all the mysteries will be solved, all the heroes will get their rewards, and all the villains their comeuppance."
"I can't believe that some people are not in this line. This is like THE event."
"Not everyone agrees with you. Some people have better things to do."
"Better than this?! Do you remember that time when..."
"I remember it all - the good times, the bad times, the exciting parts, the scary parts, and the parts where I felt like I'd never fell happy again... Quite frankly, I'm glad its almost over and I can relax knowing that everyone is safe and happy for ever after."
The line surged forward again. The excited whispering seemed to be reaching a fever pitch as more and more people joined the line at the back and an exciting party like atmosphere was breaking out. After all, this event was only going to happen once and then never again. Everyone in line agreed, the wait had been worth it.
Finally, I reached the front of the line and it was my turn, my pleasurable turn. I walked up to the old man and waited patiently.
"Name?"
"Will Robison."
"Ah yes..." he said, "I've saved a place for you. Here's the Book. Welcome!"
And St. Peter handed me a copy of the Bible and the doors to my salvation opened before me. My anticipation was over. My Joy had just begun.
Friday, July 20, 2007
A Minor Revelation With A Big Kick
Do you ever feel like you're banging your head on the cieling of understanding - like there's something there that everyone else gets but somehow you're just not seeing it? And then there's a minor shift in light or mood and suddenly you see it clearly and you understand it and you know it. To everyone else its no big deal, but to you its profound. I had that kind of revelation yesterday.
I was driving home and thinking about the article I wrote about yesterday - a venemous diatribe against religious people on the basis of the fact that we were delusional and insane and clearly incapable of understanding simple facts. In the 400 plus responses to this diatribe the comments were generally along two lines - Yeah, you tell those god freaks and I'm sorry you can't see, taste, feel God. It got me to thinking about what the evangelical movement in this country must be doing wrong that so many people were so upset at organized religion that they would spew such vitriol. I mean we all know that some people come across heavy handed and try to force their religion on people who are clearly not ready for it. These people come away feeling put upon and angry and not at all pleased with organized religion. Instead of converting them, we are diverting them to other things. And that was when I had the revelation.
It goes something like this.
Me: Someone ought to do something about that.
God: Why not you?
Me: What do you mean, me? I can't force other people to behave more like a responsible Christian.
God: Yes, but you can start by behaving like a responsible Christian yourself, can't you?
Me: Wow. I never thought of it like that.
And suddenly it occurred to me, we are all individually responsible for showing the world the love of Jesus Christ.
See. For most of you that's got to be the sort of no-brainer, biggest DUH, of the week. Of course, we have to do that. But for me, it was a sudden eye-opener.
If I want more greeting to be done on Sunday morning at my church, perhaps I ought to go there and greet people myself. If I want non-christians to know the love of Christ, perhaps I should show them that love myself. If I want more people to live the gospel in their everyday life, perhaps I ought to live it myself.
The immediate thought I had, of course, was what the heck had I been doing before this really obvious revelation and I realized that I'd been trying to do this very thing but without understanding the reasoning behind it. I was doing good for the sake of doing good. I was walking the walk because that was the direction I happened to be going, not because I was on a journey anywhere. I had been blindly doing things, but now I understood the reason behind those things. I had known, for instance, that yelling at other cars was not a good thing to do while driving, but I didn't particularly understand why (other than its just not nice, even if they are slowpokes ;) Now I knew that the way I drove to work and interacted with my fellow drivers was a direct reflection to them of the love of Jesus Christ. If I yelled at them, I was not projecting the very things I professed to believe.
Wow. And again, Wow.
God is refining me this summer and so far, I am the much better for it. May He continue to bestow these blessings on me.
I was driving home and thinking about the article I wrote about yesterday - a venemous diatribe against religious people on the basis of the fact that we were delusional and insane and clearly incapable of understanding simple facts. In the 400 plus responses to this diatribe the comments were generally along two lines - Yeah, you tell those god freaks and I'm sorry you can't see, taste, feel God. It got me to thinking about what the evangelical movement in this country must be doing wrong that so many people were so upset at organized religion that they would spew such vitriol. I mean we all know that some people come across heavy handed and try to force their religion on people who are clearly not ready for it. These people come away feeling put upon and angry and not at all pleased with organized religion. Instead of converting them, we are diverting them to other things. And that was when I had the revelation.
It goes something like this.
Me: Someone ought to do something about that.
God: Why not you?
Me: What do you mean, me? I can't force other people to behave more like a responsible Christian.
God: Yes, but you can start by behaving like a responsible Christian yourself, can't you?
Me: Wow. I never thought of it like that.
And suddenly it occurred to me, we are all individually responsible for showing the world the love of Jesus Christ.
See. For most of you that's got to be the sort of no-brainer, biggest DUH, of the week. Of course, we have to do that. But for me, it was a sudden eye-opener.
If I want more greeting to be done on Sunday morning at my church, perhaps I ought to go there and greet people myself. If I want non-christians to know the love of Christ, perhaps I should show them that love myself. If I want more people to live the gospel in their everyday life, perhaps I ought to live it myself.
The immediate thought I had, of course, was what the heck had I been doing before this really obvious revelation and I realized that I'd been trying to do this very thing but without understanding the reasoning behind it. I was doing good for the sake of doing good. I was walking the walk because that was the direction I happened to be going, not because I was on a journey anywhere. I had been blindly doing things, but now I understood the reason behind those things. I had known, for instance, that yelling at other cars was not a good thing to do while driving, but I didn't particularly understand why (other than its just not nice, even if they are slowpokes ;) Now I knew that the way I drove to work and interacted with my fellow drivers was a direct reflection to them of the love of Jesus Christ. If I yelled at them, I was not projecting the very things I professed to believe.
Wow. And again, Wow.
God is refining me this summer and so far, I am the much better for it. May He continue to bestow these blessings on me.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
When it comes to flames, we are wet blankets...
I just read a long blog about how scientists think religious people are all insane. Having been interested in both subjects since I was a kid, I can't understand why there is a whole lot of animosity between these groups - since both groups are trying to reach the truth. My guess is that the vast majority of people in both groups could care less about what the zealots on either end have to say - that there are just as many scientists who think their "all religion is crap" brethren are narrow minded bigots as there are religious people who think their "all science is crap" brethren are narrow minded bigots. I don't understand how a rational person can't look at a butterfly and not be fascinated by the way it flies and eats and changes from a caterpillar into a butterfly, and also be deeply moved by the experience of seeing such a wondrous creature up close. Those at the far extremes would have you believe either a)what the butterfly does for a living is unimportant because God takes care of it for you or b)its just a leptidopterus that came from a long line of leptidoterae before it, having evolved from a small insect sometime during the paleolithic era (or some such).
However, regardless of how we feel about science and religion, us religious types are going to lose the incessant flame wars on the web, so we'd probably be better off not participating in them. When it comes to slinging cold hard facts around like sledge hammers, our scientific brethren have been bred and trained for combat. We religious types might believe that we have truth on our side, but since the scientific method is formed by the same logic required for a proper debate, the deck is stacked in science's favor. Ultimately, all we can say is, "You're wrong. But we still love you." Which might be the truth, but isn't a very thrilling come back.
No, better still to concentrate on the things that make religions thrive - faith, hope, charity, and love. Whether they want to admit to them or not, it's these four cornerstones that all humans feed upon, and as far as I know, there isn't a scientific explanation for any of them.
However, regardless of how we feel about science and religion, us religious types are going to lose the incessant flame wars on the web, so we'd probably be better off not participating in them. When it comes to slinging cold hard facts around like sledge hammers, our scientific brethren have been bred and trained for combat. We religious types might believe that we have truth on our side, but since the scientific method is formed by the same logic required for a proper debate, the deck is stacked in science's favor. Ultimately, all we can say is, "You're wrong. But we still love you." Which might be the truth, but isn't a very thrilling come back.
No, better still to concentrate on the things that make religions thrive - faith, hope, charity, and love. Whether they want to admit to them or not, it's these four cornerstones that all humans feed upon, and as far as I know, there isn't a scientific explanation for any of them.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Here's a Novel idea...
Okay, time for the Novel update that I know you've all been waiting for (I'm sure all your e-mails demanding such were lost because of the crush of sheer numbers). The Novel is... Half Way Finished... Again!
No, but seriously, after a long stretch of zero mental activity, the Novel has gone back into production over the last two weeks. I don't know that I've gotten very far with it, but I have written solidly for two weeks and I don't see an end in sight, so that's good.
Currently, the Novel is half way done and stands at about 220 pages. If I were to simply take the rest of the material written and tack it on (without editing or any modifications or additions) it would be about 345 pages. In theory that puts me more than half way, but in reality, its about the half way point of the book. Last night I stayed up really late and mapped out the remainder of the book - including all the new material that I wanted to add - and I realized that another 220 pages is closer to how this draft of the story will end.
I am hoping to complete the first (new) draft by my birthday - approximately 22 days away. So, for those of you keeping score at home, that's an apparent average of 10 pages a day. However, many of those pages are already written and merely need to be edited or enhanced. So, its not quite as much a stretch. And, most of the remaining pages are action pages which write faster (trust me on this... I can't explain it otherwise).
Once I am done with the first (new) draft, I will go immediately into the second (new) draft since I already know what major change I need to make to the whole book. That major change will dictate more than anything else what stays and what goes in the final draft of the book. Then I will dissect the book and cut away the fat and I should have a final version ready for reading of about 300 to 350 pages by the middle of September. Honestly, I won't survive past that point. I need to finish this before it finishes me.
So, now that you all know you can stop pestering me with all of those phone calls, e-mails, smoke signals, biblical signs, and other forms of communication asking me for the completion date and a signed copy for their ailing mothers. The rumor that my novel will bring about peace on earth was just a really good bit of PR. So, keep spreading it, won't you?
No, but seriously, after a long stretch of zero mental activity, the Novel has gone back into production over the last two weeks. I don't know that I've gotten very far with it, but I have written solidly for two weeks and I don't see an end in sight, so that's good.
Currently, the Novel is half way done and stands at about 220 pages. If I were to simply take the rest of the material written and tack it on (without editing or any modifications or additions) it would be about 345 pages. In theory that puts me more than half way, but in reality, its about the half way point of the book. Last night I stayed up really late and mapped out the remainder of the book - including all the new material that I wanted to add - and I realized that another 220 pages is closer to how this draft of the story will end.
I am hoping to complete the first (new) draft by my birthday - approximately 22 days away. So, for those of you keeping score at home, that's an apparent average of 10 pages a day. However, many of those pages are already written and merely need to be edited or enhanced. So, its not quite as much a stretch. And, most of the remaining pages are action pages which write faster (trust me on this... I can't explain it otherwise).
Once I am done with the first (new) draft, I will go immediately into the second (new) draft since I already know what major change I need to make to the whole book. That major change will dictate more than anything else what stays and what goes in the final draft of the book. Then I will dissect the book and cut away the fat and I should have a final version ready for reading of about 300 to 350 pages by the middle of September. Honestly, I won't survive past that point. I need to finish this before it finishes me.
So, now that you all know you can stop pestering me with all of those phone calls, e-mails, smoke signals, biblical signs, and other forms of communication asking me for the completion date and a signed copy for their ailing mothers. The rumor that my novel will bring about peace on earth was just a really good bit of PR. So, keep spreading it, won't you?
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
The Last Acts of Desperate Men
I've been trying to avoid political discussions because I realize my views are skewed by my hatred of the war in Iraq that we should never have begun. However, that doesn't make me really anti-war, it just makes me anti-war unless there's a really, really good excuse for wasting lives. Lately, however, the White House strategy for fighting this war has taken a turn for the bizarre - surely the last acts of desperate men.
We are to believe that we need to continue funding and supplying troops to fight a war that we can't win, that we refuse to try and win, and that even the Iraqi people are saying we don't need to be their fighting. We are told that if we fail in this battle for Iraq, we will fail in the war on terror. That's what the puppet on the left hand says.
The puppet on the right hand says that Al Qaeda is stronger now than at any period since 2001 and that they are itching to attack the U.S. at any moment.
Um, did I miss something? We are supposed to support a White House that has gotten us into a deadly and costly war with no plan of getting out and has been fighting a war on terror for over five years with absolutely NO RESULTS? What exactly have we been spending $400 Billion on each and every year since 2002? Where has all that money gone? And why aren't we any safer now than we were before we ever landed in Afghanistan?
This seems a strange strategy to me right before the election. The White House seems intent to scare us into not pulling out of Iraq because we'll lose the war on terror, and they seem intent on scaring us at home as well because the terrorists might strike at any moment. So basically, the only thing the White House has left to offer the American People is Fear Itself.
Even if I believe the Democrats will be just as incompetent as the Republicans in running this country right now, I would still vote for them in a heartbeat just because they haven't insulted my intelligence in nearly 8 years. That's got to count for something.
We are to believe that we need to continue funding and supplying troops to fight a war that we can't win, that we refuse to try and win, and that even the Iraqi people are saying we don't need to be their fighting. We are told that if we fail in this battle for Iraq, we will fail in the war on terror. That's what the puppet on the left hand says.
The puppet on the right hand says that Al Qaeda is stronger now than at any period since 2001 and that they are itching to attack the U.S. at any moment.
Um, did I miss something? We are supposed to support a White House that has gotten us into a deadly and costly war with no plan of getting out and has been fighting a war on terror for over five years with absolutely NO RESULTS? What exactly have we been spending $400 Billion on each and every year since 2002? Where has all that money gone? And why aren't we any safer now than we were before we ever landed in Afghanistan?
This seems a strange strategy to me right before the election. The White House seems intent to scare us into not pulling out of Iraq because we'll lose the war on terror, and they seem intent on scaring us at home as well because the terrorists might strike at any moment. So basically, the only thing the White House has left to offer the American People is Fear Itself.
Even if I believe the Democrats will be just as incompetent as the Republicans in running this country right now, I would still vote for them in a heartbeat just because they haven't insulted my intelligence in nearly 8 years. That's got to count for something.
Friday, July 13, 2007
The Instruction Book
A One Act Play
Starring
Kino and Jokem
Jokem stands stage center with a black book in his hand. Kino enters stage left and approaches Jokem.
Kino: Hey, Jokem, whatcha doing?
Jokem: Reading.
Kino: Whatcha reading?
Jokem: An instruction book.
Kino: An instruction book? What do you need instructions for? Instructions are for morons. What are you trying to do?
Jokem: I'm trying to love my neighbor as myself and the man with too much starch in his collars said that this was the instruction book for that.
Kino: Well, you could read that instruction book cover to cover my friend and not get any closer to figuring this one out. Fortunately for you, I happen to be an expert.
Jokem: Really?
Kino: Really... now put down that instruction book and follow me. Besides, how hard can loving your neighbor be?
Jokem: I don't know Kino... the guy that wrote this is a carpenter and he's pretty smart.
Kino: Carpenter? Bah! Any fool can use a hammer and nails. Come on, I'll show you. Look, here comes a neighbor now.
A NEIGHBOR enters stage right and walks across the stage, right past Kino and Jokem. As he's passing, Kino gets his attention.
Kino: Howdy, Neighbor.
The Neighbor looks at Kino and just keeps walking.
Kino: I said, Howdy, Neighbor!
The Neighbor keeps walking.
Kino: Hey, Jerk! I said Howdy. You're supposed to say Howdy back to me! What kind of idiot are you?!
Neighbor: What did you call me?
Kino: I called you a jerk. What are you going to do about it?!
As Kino and Neighbor get into a big fight on the stage, Jokem frantically reads through his instruction book.
Jokem: Kino! Kino! I think you're doing it wrong!
Kino: I'm skipping some steps (oof!) Jokem. I'm going straight (pow!) to the part where I tell my neighbor (bam!) about how he's supposed to be (argh!) more friendly... or else.
Kino finalls knocks out his Neighbor and stands over his unconscious form.
Kino: See, Jokem... its simple. I am loving my neighbor by showing him the error of his ways. Now there is peace in our time.
Jokem: I'm not sure that loving my neighbor is supposed to look like this. I think I'm going to read the instructions some more.
Kino: Well... if you want to. But don't blame me if you waste your time and discover I was right all along. As I always say, Jokem, instructions only get in the way.
The End
(Everyone have a great weekend!)
Starring
Kino and Jokem
Jokem stands stage center with a black book in his hand. Kino enters stage left and approaches Jokem.
Kino: Hey, Jokem, whatcha doing?
Jokem: Reading.
Kino: Whatcha reading?
Jokem: An instruction book.
Kino: An instruction book? What do you need instructions for? Instructions are for morons. What are you trying to do?
Jokem: I'm trying to love my neighbor as myself and the man with too much starch in his collars said that this was the instruction book for that.
Kino: Well, you could read that instruction book cover to cover my friend and not get any closer to figuring this one out. Fortunately for you, I happen to be an expert.
Jokem: Really?
Kino: Really... now put down that instruction book and follow me. Besides, how hard can loving your neighbor be?
Jokem: I don't know Kino... the guy that wrote this is a carpenter and he's pretty smart.
Kino: Carpenter? Bah! Any fool can use a hammer and nails. Come on, I'll show you. Look, here comes a neighbor now.
A NEIGHBOR enters stage right and walks across the stage, right past Kino and Jokem. As he's passing, Kino gets his attention.
Kino: Howdy, Neighbor.
The Neighbor looks at Kino and just keeps walking.
Kino: I said, Howdy, Neighbor!
The Neighbor keeps walking.
Kino: Hey, Jerk! I said Howdy. You're supposed to say Howdy back to me! What kind of idiot are you?!
Neighbor: What did you call me?
Kino: I called you a jerk. What are you going to do about it?!
As Kino and Neighbor get into a big fight on the stage, Jokem frantically reads through his instruction book.
Jokem: Kino! Kino! I think you're doing it wrong!
Kino: I'm skipping some steps (oof!) Jokem. I'm going straight (pow!) to the part where I tell my neighbor (bam!) about how he's supposed to be (argh!) more friendly... or else.
Kino finalls knocks out his Neighbor and stands over his unconscious form.
Kino: See, Jokem... its simple. I am loving my neighbor by showing him the error of his ways. Now there is peace in our time.
Jokem: I'm not sure that loving my neighbor is supposed to look like this. I think I'm going to read the instructions some more.
Kino: Well... if you want to. But don't blame me if you waste your time and discover I was right all along. As I always say, Jokem, instructions only get in the way.
The End
(Everyone have a great weekend!)
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Five Worst Harry Potter Predictions (SPOILERS!)
If you haven't read the other six Harry Potter books by now, what the heck are you waiting for? Either way, stop reading now! There be spoilers ahead...
Ah, that's better... a little breathing room.
As you may know, Harry Potter's final book is being released in ten days and I'd thought I'd jump on the bandwagon and make a few terrible predictions about the final book as well. Since I was so wonderfully astute with my Hagrid Is The Half Blood Prince observation, I should warn you about the accuracy of these predictions. But then again, the accuracy of these predictions will speak for themselves.
#5) DUMBLEDORE IS HARRY'S REAL FATHER - It will be revealed in the last book of the illicit love affair between Dumbledore and his student Lily Evans and that after the affair, Lily tricked James Potter into marrying her and naming Dumbledore's son Harry.
#4) SNAPE IS HARRY'S REAL FATHER - See above, only in this case it was Severus Snape and Lily Evans who had the illicit love affair.
#3) THE SORTING HAT IS A HORCRUX - Having gone back in time to steal something of Godric Gryffindor, Voldemort actually kills Godric and uses his hat as a Horcrux, thus permanently animating this vile and punny hat.
#2) DOBBY IS THE ILLICIT SON OF LEGOLAS - Having borrowed so heavily from Greek Mythology, this is clearly an attempt by JK Rowling to tie her story to a more contemporary mythology.
#1) HARRY POTTER LIVES - Realizing that dying would suck, Harry decides to give up his quest to kill Voldemort and live it up. Cashing in on his fame to get into parties and concerts and to star in how own reality series where he uses Magic to pretend he can do a whole bunch of normal muggle tasks, Harry quickly discovers the excesses of fame. With Harry out of the way, Ron and Hermione die a little inside.
So, there you have it. In ten days, we'll all know the accuracy of these predictions. Personally, I'm really hoping for a perfect 0 for 5 score.
Ah, that's better... a little breathing room.
As you may know, Harry Potter's final book is being released in ten days and I'd thought I'd jump on the bandwagon and make a few terrible predictions about the final book as well. Since I was so wonderfully astute with my Hagrid Is The Half Blood Prince observation, I should warn you about the accuracy of these predictions. But then again, the accuracy of these predictions will speak for themselves.
#5) DUMBLEDORE IS HARRY'S REAL FATHER - It will be revealed in the last book of the illicit love affair between Dumbledore and his student Lily Evans and that after the affair, Lily tricked James Potter into marrying her and naming Dumbledore's son Harry.
#4) SNAPE IS HARRY'S REAL FATHER - See above, only in this case it was Severus Snape and Lily Evans who had the illicit love affair.
#3) THE SORTING HAT IS A HORCRUX - Having gone back in time to steal something of Godric Gryffindor, Voldemort actually kills Godric and uses his hat as a Horcrux, thus permanently animating this vile and punny hat.
#2) DOBBY IS THE ILLICIT SON OF LEGOLAS - Having borrowed so heavily from Greek Mythology, this is clearly an attempt by JK Rowling to tie her story to a more contemporary mythology.
#1) HARRY POTTER LIVES - Realizing that dying would suck, Harry decides to give up his quest to kill Voldemort and live it up. Cashing in on his fame to get into parties and concerts and to star in how own reality series where he uses Magic to pretend he can do a whole bunch of normal muggle tasks, Harry quickly discovers the excesses of fame. With Harry out of the way, Ron and Hermione die a little inside.
So, there you have it. In ten days, we'll all know the accuracy of these predictions. Personally, I'm really hoping for a perfect 0 for 5 score.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
The Tanks On Empty - Hallelujah!
Boy, I am not going to lie to you. There are days when I can't imagine raising my head to sing God's praises. There are days when I want to never leave the comfort of my bed. There are days when work and church and school and T-Ball and youth group and choir and basketball and everything else that I have running in my life seems like too much and I want to just let all the balls drop, to hear them bounce away from me, so that I can crawl into a nice comfortable cocoon and rest. Life would be so much simpler then, so much more satisfying, if I got to keep all of it for myself - if I didn't have to share with anyone.
In the past few months I've been to two amusement parks that I didn't want to attend. I've walked around a tidal basin when I would have much rather slept in. I played ultimate frisbee in the park when I would have rather been at home pretending to watch television. I went to several movie screenings with my friends that I really couldn't afford and probably could have waited until they were on DVD. I forced myself to travel all over San Francisco to film a movie that didn't really need to be made. I tagged along to the All Star Fan Fest to watch a T-Ball game that was just another opportunity for a sponsor to make money. I have done things that I didn't want to do. And, as a result, I missed out on all that glorious, self satisfactory, free time.
Jesus said it best, but I'm still going to paraphrase: In order to have a life, you must give away the one you have.
Life is so inconvenient to those who would rather laze away a sunny afternoon.
In the past few months I've been to two amusement parks that I didn't want to attend. I've walked around a tidal basin when I would have much rather slept in. I played ultimate frisbee in the park when I would have rather been at home pretending to watch television. I went to several movie screenings with my friends that I really couldn't afford and probably could have waited until they were on DVD. I forced myself to travel all over San Francisco to film a movie that didn't really need to be made. I tagged along to the All Star Fan Fest to watch a T-Ball game that was just another opportunity for a sponsor to make money. I have done things that I didn't want to do. And, as a result, I missed out on all that glorious, self satisfactory, free time.
Jesus said it best, but I'm still going to paraphrase: In order to have a life, you must give away the one you have.
Life is so inconvenient to those who would rather laze away a sunny afternoon.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Shortest Blog Post Ever... (runner up)
There was a great line in Alien vs. Predator which I saw last night.
(After finding alien weapons inside an ancient pyramid buried deep beneath the Antartican ice)
Man: This is like digging up Moses's DVD collection.
Have a great weekend!
(After finding alien weapons inside an ancient pyramid buried deep beneath the Antartican ice)
Man: This is like digging up Moses's DVD collection.
Have a great weekend!
Monday, July 02, 2007
iDOL
I lined up the other day with hundreds of other folks because I just happened to be walking down the street and there was this line.
"What are we waiting for?" I asked.
"Its the most amazing thing," said one man, "Its a new thing that will absolutely save your life."
"Some sort of life saving device?" I queried.
"No," said another, "Its everything you ever wanted all rolled into one. Its going to change the world. I wouldn't be surprised if it can even effect the weather!"
"Wow, that sounds impressive," I admitted. "What is it?"
"They've both got it wrong," said a third, "This thing is just absolutely amazing. I'm willing to shell out a thousand bucks for mine and then pay another 200 bucks a month just to have the ability to tell other people that I have one in my own home. I'll be the envy of my neighborhood. I'll be toasted and feted and people will come from miles around to see and praise my new thing. This is the start of something huge and I'm going to be in at the very beginning. I'm going to be one of the few people who can say that I was there when it first appeared on Earth."
Starting to get a little annoyed at all this hyperbole, I asked a little more forcefully, "Yes, but what is this thing?!"
"It's the new fruit colored iDOL and you will absolutely worship it!"
"No, thanks," I replied. "I really can't afford it and besides, I already have something to worship - something you can't see, or feel, or touch, but that has already saved me from a fate worse than death."
Sometimes it's better not to get in other people's lines.
"What are we waiting for?" I asked.
"Its the most amazing thing," said one man, "Its a new thing that will absolutely save your life."
"Some sort of life saving device?" I queried.
"No," said another, "Its everything you ever wanted all rolled into one. Its going to change the world. I wouldn't be surprised if it can even effect the weather!"
"Wow, that sounds impressive," I admitted. "What is it?"
"They've both got it wrong," said a third, "This thing is just absolutely amazing. I'm willing to shell out a thousand bucks for mine and then pay another 200 bucks a month just to have the ability to tell other people that I have one in my own home. I'll be the envy of my neighborhood. I'll be toasted and feted and people will come from miles around to see and praise my new thing. This is the start of something huge and I'm going to be in at the very beginning. I'm going to be one of the few people who can say that I was there when it first appeared on Earth."
Starting to get a little annoyed at all this hyperbole, I asked a little more forcefully, "Yes, but what is this thing?!"
"It's the new fruit colored iDOL and you will absolutely worship it!"
"No, thanks," I replied. "I really can't afford it and besides, I already have something to worship - something you can't see, or feel, or touch, but that has already saved me from a fate worse than death."
Sometimes it's better not to get in other people's lines.
Signs of the Apocalypse #2
Its often the small things that should scare us (unless we have our eschatalogical ducks in a row, of course). So while you might, like me, be terrified of the recent Duran Duran sighting at Wembley Stadium yesterday and wonder whether this might be a sign of the apocalypse, no, you'd be wrong. The more terrifying thing, the most insidious threat to our security and to life as we know it, is much smaller. It is, in fact, bacon - only not bacon as anyone would have qualified it five years ago.
I am talking about the sign of the devil - microwavable bacon. Although this alleged benefit to the cuisine of humankind has been deemed perfectly safe by the FDA, I would beg you to reconsider for the sake of your soul. The Bible says pig is bad to begin with. What do you think the OT would say about pig that has been somehow created in a lab to be microwavable safe? Its an abomination.
It looks like bacon - it tastes somewhat like bacon - but it is not bacon!
Now you're probably wondering why I am freaking out about this. After all, you say wisely, why not just buy regular bacon if its such a big deal? Nobody is forcing me to have this satanic microwaveable product, are they? Well, that's what makes this threat so insidious!
First, I noticed it on a Bacon cheeseburger. Okay, McDonalds is not known for its haute cuisine. I can understand that. It doesn't change the fact that they're charging 80 cents per slice of bacon, but that's neither here nor there. I didn't like it, but I can live with it. But, then, within a week, I got microwaveable bacon at Denny's! DENNY'S! That's Un-American, I tell you! But yesterday was the final straw! I ordered a Hawaiian Pizza and it came with Ham, Pineapple, and several strips of microwaveable bacon on top (not crumbled bacon bits like there should be!) This literally made the pizza unappetizing. And unappetizing pizza is like one of the cardinal sins in my book!
So, you see, this threat is spreading. Soon, there won't be a single piece of real bacon left anywhere on the planet. Don't believe me? Have you seen how hard it is to find a regular box of MacNCheese lately - one that isn't microwavable crap?
Fight microwaveable bacon! Its not only patriotic, its a moral responsibility! Buying microwaveable bacon supports the terrorists!
Here endeth the sermon!
I am talking about the sign of the devil - microwavable bacon. Although this alleged benefit to the cuisine of humankind has been deemed perfectly safe by the FDA, I would beg you to reconsider for the sake of your soul. The Bible says pig is bad to begin with. What do you think the OT would say about pig that has been somehow created in a lab to be microwavable safe? Its an abomination.
It looks like bacon - it tastes somewhat like bacon - but it is not bacon!
Now you're probably wondering why I am freaking out about this. After all, you say wisely, why not just buy regular bacon if its such a big deal? Nobody is forcing me to have this satanic microwaveable product, are they? Well, that's what makes this threat so insidious!
First, I noticed it on a Bacon cheeseburger. Okay, McDonalds is not known for its haute cuisine. I can understand that. It doesn't change the fact that they're charging 80 cents per slice of bacon, but that's neither here nor there. I didn't like it, but I can live with it. But, then, within a week, I got microwaveable bacon at Denny's! DENNY'S! That's Un-American, I tell you! But yesterday was the final straw! I ordered a Hawaiian Pizza and it came with Ham, Pineapple, and several strips of microwaveable bacon on top (not crumbled bacon bits like there should be!) This literally made the pizza unappetizing. And unappetizing pizza is like one of the cardinal sins in my book!
So, you see, this threat is spreading. Soon, there won't be a single piece of real bacon left anywhere on the planet. Don't believe me? Have you seen how hard it is to find a regular box of MacNCheese lately - one that isn't microwavable crap?
Fight microwaveable bacon! Its not only patriotic, its a moral responsibility! Buying microwaveable bacon supports the terrorists!
Here endeth the sermon!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Legal Questions
I just read an interesting news item online in which a small town in Texas is upset with the way the NBC show, To Catch A Predator, was filmed there. Apparently, the taping lead to the suicide of a prosecutor from a nearby town and a bunch of protests from neighbors and other towns people over the show's concept. Even though some 30 people were arrested, the D.A. has decided not to press charges and is releasing all of those men who were caught.
I thought I was the only one disturbed by this show. While I am 125% behind the idea of throwing these bastards behind bars for life, I always thought the show set some questionable legal precedents. They might as well call the show Entrapment, even though it doesn't meet the legal definition as such. But, what next? What other crimes can we set people up for and then watch as they are arrested? Why send the COPS chasing after the bad guys when we can gurantee the ratings and the bad guys by bringing them to us? I've always been uncomfortable by this kind of justice and its potential abuses. And really, one airing of the NBC taping, and how are these guys ever going to get a fair trial?
It was with that in mind that I had a thought, but I'm not sure about several legal aspects of this thought. What if, as a professional s**t disturber, I went trolling on the internet to find the Catch A Predator lurkers? If I were to document such a search on the web so that I had definitive proof of what I was doing, what crimes would I actually be breaking? While I know its not right to pretend to be a pedophile in order to stop a TV show that pretends to be a pedophile victim, when it all came down to it, what laws would anyone be breaking if you showed up at the sting operation and they started to question you and you said, "Actually, Dateline, I'm so and so from ToStopDateline.com, and I'm here to bring your charade to a stop." Would you actually be breaking a law of contacting a child with the intent of doing pedophile acts if you knew all along that the person you were contacting was in fact only pretending to be a child? Would you be breaking any laws if you then showed up at this pretend child's house and walked into a sting operation, especially if the sting operation was being run by the television program and not the police?
I'm just curious. Since I can't possibly imagine wasting my time on such a project, no matter how much these shows irritate me, I would never entertain such a notion (besides, I'd make a terrible pretend pedophile ;). Still, this is the sort of hypothetical exercise that our world has been reduced to the more we let entertainment breach our everyday existence.
Personally, I'm waiting for the new FOX Reality Show, Mob Justice, where they lure a pedophile into a house and then turn the craze audience loose upon him. I've asked to be a member of the audience when the show airs. ;)
I thought I was the only one disturbed by this show. While I am 125% behind the idea of throwing these bastards behind bars for life, I always thought the show set some questionable legal precedents. They might as well call the show Entrapment, even though it doesn't meet the legal definition as such. But, what next? What other crimes can we set people up for and then watch as they are arrested? Why send the COPS chasing after the bad guys when we can gurantee the ratings and the bad guys by bringing them to us? I've always been uncomfortable by this kind of justice and its potential abuses. And really, one airing of the NBC taping, and how are these guys ever going to get a fair trial?
It was with that in mind that I had a thought, but I'm not sure about several legal aspects of this thought. What if, as a professional s**t disturber, I went trolling on the internet to find the Catch A Predator lurkers? If I were to document such a search on the web so that I had definitive proof of what I was doing, what crimes would I actually be breaking? While I know its not right to pretend to be a pedophile in order to stop a TV show that pretends to be a pedophile victim, when it all came down to it, what laws would anyone be breaking if you showed up at the sting operation and they started to question you and you said, "Actually, Dateline, I'm so and so from ToStopDateline.com, and I'm here to bring your charade to a stop." Would you actually be breaking a law of contacting a child with the intent of doing pedophile acts if you knew all along that the person you were contacting was in fact only pretending to be a child? Would you be breaking any laws if you then showed up at this pretend child's house and walked into a sting operation, especially if the sting operation was being run by the television program and not the police?
I'm just curious. Since I can't possibly imagine wasting my time on such a project, no matter how much these shows irritate me, I would never entertain such a notion (besides, I'd make a terrible pretend pedophile ;). Still, this is the sort of hypothetical exercise that our world has been reduced to the more we let entertainment breach our everyday existence.
Personally, I'm waiting for the new FOX Reality Show, Mob Justice, where they lure a pedophile into a house and then turn the craze audience loose upon him. I've asked to be a member of the audience when the show airs. ;)
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Minor Irritant #3
I can't leave you without a non-movie related minor irritant. So, Minor Irritant #3 - Stupid Telemarketers.
There are stupid telemarketers and there are stupid telemarketers. But the one who called the other day really takes the cake.
The phone rang. I picked it up and said, "Hello." I heard the unmistakable sound of the phone bullpen in the background and knew immediately that it was a telemarketer. "Hi there, I was wondering if I could speak to..." Click! I had already started forming the rejection on my tongue when I heard the line go dead. The telemarketer had hung up the phone before I could even reject him. Either the Psychic Friend's Network people are moonlighting, or the telemarketer accidentally cut me off.
Talk about stupid.
There are stupid telemarketers and there are stupid telemarketers. But the one who called the other day really takes the cake.
The phone rang. I picked it up and said, "Hello." I heard the unmistakable sound of the phone bullpen in the background and knew immediately that it was a telemarketer. "Hi there, I was wondering if I could speak to..." Click! I had already started forming the rejection on my tongue when I heard the line go dead. The telemarketer had hung up the phone before I could even reject him. Either the Psychic Friend's Network people are moonlighting, or the telemarketer accidentally cut me off.
Talk about stupid.
Minor Irritant #2 - The Brom
I hadn't intended to start a series of blogs about things in movies that irritate me. Lots of other things irritate me as well... but I'm not sure they're minor. So maybe this should be considered an addendum to Minor Irritant #1 - since it deals with lazy screenwriting as well.
This is something that my friends and I call The Brom after a major character in Eragon (the movie, not the book). In the movie, Eragon and Brom - his wise Jedi Knight like mentor - have just discovered the location of the Princess. Eragon, being young and foolish, hops on his dragon and flies off to rescue the Princess despite the fact that Brom warns him against a trap. The dragon covers the three day's distance in minutes and Eragon charges boldly into the trap to rescue the Princess. Sure enough, the bad guy is waiting for him. There is a fight. And then, despite the fact that the kid has been trained to defend himself and that his mentor is Jedi Knight wise, when the bad guy throws a spear at Eragon that will surely kill him, out of the clear blue leaps Brom - taking the spear in Eragon's place and, of course, dying. Nevermind the fact that Brom was three days behind Eragon, or that he could have simply knocked the spear aside, or thrown Eragon a shield, or... well, you get the idea, Brom decides to spare his pupils life by leaping in front of the "bullet" himself. He dies, so that Eragon might live.
This particular cliche is played out and often defies logic. In Spiderman 3, there is another Brom scene. In Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, another Brom scene. In Pirates 3: At World's End - there is like a half-Brom (not quite as dramatic as leaping in front of the bullet, but in effect, the exact same thing). This cliche has been used so many times in the last ten years, or so, that its a wonder that someone hasn't compiled all of the Brom moments into a single YouTube movie.
What happened to truly original ideas - like Spock sacrificing himself to save the Enterprise in The Wrath of Khan, or the way they killed of Wash in Serenity, or the sudden rescue of Ripley in Aliens 2? Surprises are only surprising when less than 10 percent of the audience hasn't already figured it out before you show it. When everybody knows what's coming and its supposed to be a surprise, that's called bad writing.
Just a minor irritant in life...
This is something that my friends and I call The Brom after a major character in Eragon (the movie, not the book). In the movie, Eragon and Brom - his wise Jedi Knight like mentor - have just discovered the location of the Princess. Eragon, being young and foolish, hops on his dragon and flies off to rescue the Princess despite the fact that Brom warns him against a trap. The dragon covers the three day's distance in minutes and Eragon charges boldly into the trap to rescue the Princess. Sure enough, the bad guy is waiting for him. There is a fight. And then, despite the fact that the kid has been trained to defend himself and that his mentor is Jedi Knight wise, when the bad guy throws a spear at Eragon that will surely kill him, out of the clear blue leaps Brom - taking the spear in Eragon's place and, of course, dying. Nevermind the fact that Brom was three days behind Eragon, or that he could have simply knocked the spear aside, or thrown Eragon a shield, or... well, you get the idea, Brom decides to spare his pupils life by leaping in front of the "bullet" himself. He dies, so that Eragon might live.
This particular cliche is played out and often defies logic. In Spiderman 3, there is another Brom scene. In Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, another Brom scene. In Pirates 3: At World's End - there is like a half-Brom (not quite as dramatic as leaping in front of the bullet, but in effect, the exact same thing). This cliche has been used so many times in the last ten years, or so, that its a wonder that someone hasn't compiled all of the Brom moments into a single YouTube movie.
What happened to truly original ideas - like Spock sacrificing himself to save the Enterprise in The Wrath of Khan, or the way they killed of Wash in Serenity, or the sudden rescue of Ripley in Aliens 2? Surprises are only surprising when less than 10 percent of the audience hasn't already figured it out before you show it. When everybody knows what's coming and its supposed to be a surprise, that's called bad writing.
Just a minor irritant in life...
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Minor Irritant #1
Today, I'm going to be making a list of things that just irritate the heck out of me. Not that I'm going to start a mad crusade against them - these are the windmills that you bypass, but that are still in the way.
#1) Lazy movie writers:
Example A) Flyboys - Admittedly not a great movie, but it had some good moments, and for the most part I found it well written and informative. But there were a couple of scenes that defied credibility. First, the love interests farm which is near the airfield is overrun by Germans (our hero rescues the girl, of course) and the girl is sent south to another town. When next we see the girl, she is fleeing the town because it is about to be overrun by Germans. It is war and these things happen, but what irritates me about it is that the entire time the Germans are taking over farms and overrunning towns - they never seem to make a move on a largely unprotected airfield a few miles away.
Example B) Fantastic 4 Rise of the Silver Surfer - this one is just downright annoying because anyone with a sense of geography could have told them how stupid it was. They capture the Surfer and take him to an American military base in Jakutsk, Siberia. Uh, guys, last I checked that was smack dab in the middle of Russia. And, uh, last I checked, we didn't have any military bases there. ;)
And to think, people get paid to write these things!
Minor rant mode off... until later...
#1) Lazy movie writers:
Example A) Flyboys - Admittedly not a great movie, but it had some good moments, and for the most part I found it well written and informative. But there were a couple of scenes that defied credibility. First, the love interests farm which is near the airfield is overrun by Germans (our hero rescues the girl, of course) and the girl is sent south to another town. When next we see the girl, she is fleeing the town because it is about to be overrun by Germans. It is war and these things happen, but what irritates me about it is that the entire time the Germans are taking over farms and overrunning towns - they never seem to make a move on a largely unprotected airfield a few miles away.
Example B) Fantastic 4 Rise of the Silver Surfer - this one is just downright annoying because anyone with a sense of geography could have told them how stupid it was. They capture the Surfer and take him to an American military base in Jakutsk, Siberia. Uh, guys, last I checked that was smack dab in the middle of Russia. And, uh, last I checked, we didn't have any military bases there. ;)
And to think, people get paid to write these things!
Minor rant mode off... until later...
Monday, June 25, 2007
World Weariness Sets In
I'm tired. Soul bending tired. Crushed down by the weight of a fallen world, I can barely rise against all that pressure, barely walk, barely stand.
Moments of my weekend life chose to lift me beyond the weariness - being able to see so many of my friends and family this weekend, eating a good meal, spending quality time with my brother. But others chose to highlight my weaknesses and my frailities - the old fears worn like a blanket, the new fears attaching themselves like ticks. It was enough to sap my strength during the high moments and drag me below the waves during the dark moments. I sputtered alot and drank a lot of sea water, and at times, I fell. So far. So far. The darkness engulfed me and there was no light, just the shadow of light from above.
Some days you feel like the straightforward account and some days you feel like poetry. Feelings are easier to describe with poetry. David knew this. He wrote psalm after psalm after psalm. And compared to him, my problems amount to little more than a hill of beans. They wouldn't nearly be so troublesome if they weren't so persistent. I suppose David never had to worry about mounting credit card debt, high gas prices, and how to finish a novel that seems to be taking its own sweet time. But then, I don't have to worry about someone consistently trying to kill me with an entire army. The small trade-offs in life make all the difference.
Oh, Lord,
Be a cool dark place
for resting my head.
When I am weary, Lord,
be a soft blanket
for my bed.
Soothe away the nightmares,
bring on the happy dreams,
awaken in me a powerful soul.
Let my snores be psalms,
and my dreams be prayers,
restore me to life, rested and whole.
For you are my Lord.
I am your servant.
Forever to be led.
Moments of my weekend life chose to lift me beyond the weariness - being able to see so many of my friends and family this weekend, eating a good meal, spending quality time with my brother. But others chose to highlight my weaknesses and my frailities - the old fears worn like a blanket, the new fears attaching themselves like ticks. It was enough to sap my strength during the high moments and drag me below the waves during the dark moments. I sputtered alot and drank a lot of sea water, and at times, I fell. So far. So far. The darkness engulfed me and there was no light, just the shadow of light from above.
Some days you feel like the straightforward account and some days you feel like poetry. Feelings are easier to describe with poetry. David knew this. He wrote psalm after psalm after psalm. And compared to him, my problems amount to little more than a hill of beans. They wouldn't nearly be so troublesome if they weren't so persistent. I suppose David never had to worry about mounting credit card debt, high gas prices, and how to finish a novel that seems to be taking its own sweet time. But then, I don't have to worry about someone consistently trying to kill me with an entire army. The small trade-offs in life make all the difference.
Oh, Lord,
Be a cool dark place
for resting my head.
When I am weary, Lord,
be a soft blanket
for my bed.
Soothe away the nightmares,
bring on the happy dreams,
awaken in me a powerful soul.
Let my snores be psalms,
and my dreams be prayers,
restore me to life, rested and whole.
For you are my Lord.
I am your servant.
Forever to be led.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Bring It On!
Every once in a while a Hollywood movie gets the feeling of religion right. One of my absolute favorite Hollywood scenes, one that sticks with me every single day, is the sight of Lt. Dan sitting at the top of Forrest Gump's boat during a severe hurricane and screaming at the top of his voice into Heaven, "YOU CALL THIS A HURRICANE!" At some point in life, I think we all feel like yelling at God and challenging him with our macho bravado. Of course, deep down we know that God won't destroy us, or else we would never yell what we yell. What we are really yelling is, "Okay, God, I'm ready to be tempered. Do your worst!"
After an incredibly long stretch of life as usual, spinning my wheels and getting nowhere, I prayed to God a couple of weeks ago that I was ready for change, ready to be tempered, ready to be forged. I told God to bring it on.
Well, He sent the hurricane alright. And so, as I sit there, surrounded by the buffeting winds of my life and the rain on my face, I can't help but smile and say, "You call this a hurricane!" I've brought it on myself, and I'm ready for more!
Bring it on, God! Bring it on!
After an incredibly long stretch of life as usual, spinning my wheels and getting nowhere, I prayed to God a couple of weeks ago that I was ready for change, ready to be tempered, ready to be forged. I told God to bring it on.
Well, He sent the hurricane alright. And so, as I sit there, surrounded by the buffeting winds of my life and the rain on my face, I can't help but smile and say, "You call this a hurricane!" I've brought it on myself, and I'm ready for more!
Bring it on, God! Bring it on!
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
The Way of the Gun
I am now firmly against a certain definition of the 2nd Ammendment to the Constitution that allows for people to own and use handguns. This position now places me directly at odds with about half of my friends and, at least, one brother. I did not start out with this position, but over the years I have been slowly drawn to the conclusion that handguns are dangerous not only to those being threatened by them but also to those who own them and to any society that allows them to remain legal.
I have seen too many lives destroyed or nearly destroyed by ready access to handguns. For my own part, the first time I ever held a handgun was at a friend's birthday party. I had left the party early to take my girlfriend home and when I came back (still completely sober, unfortunately) I was met at the door by my brother with two six shooters. "Here," he said, "Take these home and put them in a safe place. Some idiot brought them to the party as part of his costume and he's getting drunk and dangerous." In the interest of public safety, I took the handguns and walked home. Only about halfway home did I realize that I was a teenager walking around late at night with two handguns in a backpack - not the smartest thing in the world to be doing. I got home and hid them and was pleased when they were returned to their rightful owner the next day (after he'd sobered up). The sobering effect of this incident stayed with me for a long time.
Don't get me wrong. I like to shoot handguns. I scored 39 out of 40 on my marksman test at the Navy Training Base (though I really have to attribute that to luck since the shooting range was quite dark and I wasn't allowed to use my glasses as they interfered with the safety goggles - I just shot in the general direction of the blurry object that was my target and hit it 39 out of 40 times. 39 1/2 actually, since the one that missed was me shooting one of the two clips that held the target in place. ;). I have been shooting with friends before at a variety of ranges. I have shot everything from Mac 10's to rifles, including a variety of handguns in all different calibers. There is a certain thrill to feeling that much power explode in your hand.
When I returned from the Navy, my brother had handguns. He liked them. He took them to a shooting range. He did not tell my parents that he had handguns. He used to sleep with one under his pillow. It scared the hell out of me. It still does. When my step-mom accidentally stepped on his pillow while dusting in his room and discovered his guns, she didn't say anything, but my brother was asked to move out a few months later. He has not been allowed to move back since. Though the guns were only the final straw in an already straining relationship, they are the primary reason he is not allowed back into the house.
My brother moved in with my sister. She told me that my brother had come within an inch of shooting his best friend when his gun accidentally went off while he was cleaning it. It left a hole in the wall that they eventually were able to plaster. Still, my brother did not give up his guns. They were cool. They were fun. They were completely safe, so long as you took every precaution. I can't speak for what his best friend thought at the time. But I know that he remained a gun lover as well.
As I got older and grew more distant, I began to notice a disturbing trend. More and more people that I knew were directly, or indirectly, affected by gun violence. Here a friend's cousin had been gunned down. There a kid I knew in high school killed in a drive-by. Here a friend's father arrested and jailed for owning illegal firearms (ex-Green Beret type). There a friend of a friend blowing his brain's out with a handgun. I kept telling myself that these were all people who abused the use of the gun - that it wasn't the handgun's fault.
Over the weekend, my brother was arrested. Depending on which version of the events you hear, the charges range from serious to very serious. They all involve a handgun in some capacity - whether concealed or what not. I know that my brother and his guns are usually around each other at all times - sometimes legally, sometimes not. My brother has told me stories, I think to try and impress me, and I have warned him again and again to be cautious, but my words continued to fall on deaf ears. I will reserve judgment on my brother and just try to be supportive of him during this trying time, but I am downright adamant that my brother would not be in this position if he didn't have access to handguns.
The Way of the Gun is quite seductive as we've all seen. It gives us the power to defend ourselves without really setting any firm guidelines as to what that means. It may come out of a belief of the right to self-preservation - that you are buying the gun to protect yourself. But then it begins to extend itself the longer you own the gun. First its you, then its your home, then its your family, then your friends, then your property, then your honor, then your way of life. With a gun in your hand you feel emboldened to "protect" more and more things until you no longer know where you end and where someone else begins. Without even thinking about it, you begin to believe that might makes right and that you are entitled to such rights. What starts out as a simple handgun locked safely in a cabinet, becomes an obsession with larger calibers, more ammunition, shooting ranges, concealed weapons permits, and street cred. Those of us who don't have guns can only watch as those who do continue down this long, spiral, path.
I have seen or witnessed too many people being destroyed by hand guns and by their attendant lifestyle. I have had enough. It's time we put guns back in the hands of the police and criminals where they belong and let this Hollywood Cowboy American image of handguns die a quick death before it bleeds us all dry.
On this, for a change, I can not be swayed.
I have seen too many lives destroyed or nearly destroyed by ready access to handguns. For my own part, the first time I ever held a handgun was at a friend's birthday party. I had left the party early to take my girlfriend home and when I came back (still completely sober, unfortunately) I was met at the door by my brother with two six shooters. "Here," he said, "Take these home and put them in a safe place. Some idiot brought them to the party as part of his costume and he's getting drunk and dangerous." In the interest of public safety, I took the handguns and walked home. Only about halfway home did I realize that I was a teenager walking around late at night with two handguns in a backpack - not the smartest thing in the world to be doing. I got home and hid them and was pleased when they were returned to their rightful owner the next day (after he'd sobered up). The sobering effect of this incident stayed with me for a long time.
Don't get me wrong. I like to shoot handguns. I scored 39 out of 40 on my marksman test at the Navy Training Base (though I really have to attribute that to luck since the shooting range was quite dark and I wasn't allowed to use my glasses as they interfered with the safety goggles - I just shot in the general direction of the blurry object that was my target and hit it 39 out of 40 times. 39 1/2 actually, since the one that missed was me shooting one of the two clips that held the target in place. ;). I have been shooting with friends before at a variety of ranges. I have shot everything from Mac 10's to rifles, including a variety of handguns in all different calibers. There is a certain thrill to feeling that much power explode in your hand.
When I returned from the Navy, my brother had handguns. He liked them. He took them to a shooting range. He did not tell my parents that he had handguns. He used to sleep with one under his pillow. It scared the hell out of me. It still does. When my step-mom accidentally stepped on his pillow while dusting in his room and discovered his guns, she didn't say anything, but my brother was asked to move out a few months later. He has not been allowed to move back since. Though the guns were only the final straw in an already straining relationship, they are the primary reason he is not allowed back into the house.
My brother moved in with my sister. She told me that my brother had come within an inch of shooting his best friend when his gun accidentally went off while he was cleaning it. It left a hole in the wall that they eventually were able to plaster. Still, my brother did not give up his guns. They were cool. They were fun. They were completely safe, so long as you took every precaution. I can't speak for what his best friend thought at the time. But I know that he remained a gun lover as well.
As I got older and grew more distant, I began to notice a disturbing trend. More and more people that I knew were directly, or indirectly, affected by gun violence. Here a friend's cousin had been gunned down. There a kid I knew in high school killed in a drive-by. Here a friend's father arrested and jailed for owning illegal firearms (ex-Green Beret type). There a friend of a friend blowing his brain's out with a handgun. I kept telling myself that these were all people who abused the use of the gun - that it wasn't the handgun's fault.
Over the weekend, my brother was arrested. Depending on which version of the events you hear, the charges range from serious to very serious. They all involve a handgun in some capacity - whether concealed or what not. I know that my brother and his guns are usually around each other at all times - sometimes legally, sometimes not. My brother has told me stories, I think to try and impress me, and I have warned him again and again to be cautious, but my words continued to fall on deaf ears. I will reserve judgment on my brother and just try to be supportive of him during this trying time, but I am downright adamant that my brother would not be in this position if he didn't have access to handguns.
The Way of the Gun is quite seductive as we've all seen. It gives us the power to defend ourselves without really setting any firm guidelines as to what that means. It may come out of a belief of the right to self-preservation - that you are buying the gun to protect yourself. But then it begins to extend itself the longer you own the gun. First its you, then its your home, then its your family, then your friends, then your property, then your honor, then your way of life. With a gun in your hand you feel emboldened to "protect" more and more things until you no longer know where you end and where someone else begins. Without even thinking about it, you begin to believe that might makes right and that you are entitled to such rights. What starts out as a simple handgun locked safely in a cabinet, becomes an obsession with larger calibers, more ammunition, shooting ranges, concealed weapons permits, and street cred. Those of us who don't have guns can only watch as those who do continue down this long, spiral, path.
I have seen or witnessed too many people being destroyed by hand guns and by their attendant lifestyle. I have had enough. It's time we put guns back in the hands of the police and criminals where they belong and let this Hollywood Cowboy American image of handguns die a quick death before it bleeds us all dry.
On this, for a change, I can not be swayed.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
The Twelfth Somewhat Annual Burrito Night
It started out innocently enough. While working for a movie theater one summer, I was house sitting for my parents and looking after the dogs. I would often get off work at 1am and not had dinner yet. My usual haunts at the time included Denny's and 7-11 and Jack In The Box, as they were pretty much the only places opened at 1am. But with nobody in the house but me, I knew I had the luxury of being able to cook at 1am and not disturbing anyone. So, I thought long and hard about it, and realized that I wanted to make burritos.
Now, anyone who has ever made burritoes knows that there is no such thing as burritoes for one. Sure, you can buy the crappy frozen kind that you nuke, but that's really not much better for you than a 1am Jumbo Jack with Cheese. If you want to make a fresh burrito you need a minimum of tortillas (at least 10 to a pack), grated cheese (8oz, minimum), refried beans (one can), hamburger (at least three quarters of a pound minimum), and salsa (mimimum 8oz jar). That's a lot of food for one burrito and one person. But I was determined to make burritoes. So, after work, I went to an all night grocery store and I bought the fixings - hamburger, cheese, refried beans, rice, lettuce, tomatoes, salsa, guacamole, sour cream, tortillas, etc... and I went home.
I started cooking about 1:30am and I immediately had help. At the time, my parents owned a rather large and friendly St. Bernard named Valentine. She was little more than a puppy then (still large, though). They also owned a little yappy dog named Bingo. The two dogs camped out at my feet as I started preparing all the elements of the burritos. They looked up at me with big soulful eyes and whined occassionaly for bites of food.
After a short amount of whining, I finally turned around to the St. Bernard and said, "Don't worry, Valentine, tonight is burrito night and on burrito night, nobody goes hungry." Within minutes, we were wolfing down burritos and burrito fixings to our hearts content until we were all completely full (which is hard to do with a St. Bernard ;)Thus started an annual tradition that has grown in size and complexity ever since.
The next wrinkle to this story occurs about five years later after Burrito Night had already started to morph into this annual party where I invited friends and family to join the St. Bernard and I eating burritos (at a much more reasonable hour, I assure you). It was during the 150th recitation of the Burrito Night motto, "Nobody goes hungry on Burrito Night," that I realized that what I was saying wasn't entirely true. There were lots of people who were going hungry on Burrito Night, and I couldn't possibly feed them all. So, starting that year, I required one thing from my guests as "payment" for the delicious burritos they were about to receive - a donation for the San Francisco Food Bank.
This year's Burrito Night is going to be held this Sunday. The dogs have changed. The house has been remodeled. The backyard now sports a deck and a garden railroad. But beyond that, the evening has not changed its focus nor its menu. We will offer the usual fixings - beef, chicken, steak, shrimp, and sausage - as well as all the trimmings - rice, beans, chili, lettuce, tomato, jalapenos, cheese, etc... - for all our guests to make whatever combination burrito they choose. This is all provided free of charge to all who bring a donation to the San Francisco Food Bank. The food is good, the company is good, and the atmosphere is low key. B.Y.O.B.
I mention all this not only as announcement but as a suggestion to all of you readers out there who are looking for a way to foodraise for your own local food banks. Its not complicated. Its not hard. And it gives you an opportunity to eat great burritos. I'd love to see the Buritto Night movement spread around the country so that one day the Burrito Night motto might be closer to the truth than not.
So, remember, on Burrito Night nobody goes hungry.
Now, anyone who has ever made burritoes knows that there is no such thing as burritoes for one. Sure, you can buy the crappy frozen kind that you nuke, but that's really not much better for you than a 1am Jumbo Jack with Cheese. If you want to make a fresh burrito you need a minimum of tortillas (at least 10 to a pack), grated cheese (8oz, minimum), refried beans (one can), hamburger (at least three quarters of a pound minimum), and salsa (mimimum 8oz jar). That's a lot of food for one burrito and one person. But I was determined to make burritoes. So, after work, I went to an all night grocery store and I bought the fixings - hamburger, cheese, refried beans, rice, lettuce, tomatoes, salsa, guacamole, sour cream, tortillas, etc... and I went home.
I started cooking about 1:30am and I immediately had help. At the time, my parents owned a rather large and friendly St. Bernard named Valentine. She was little more than a puppy then (still large, though). They also owned a little yappy dog named Bingo. The two dogs camped out at my feet as I started preparing all the elements of the burritos. They looked up at me with big soulful eyes and whined occassionaly for bites of food.
After a short amount of whining, I finally turned around to the St. Bernard and said, "Don't worry, Valentine, tonight is burrito night and on burrito night, nobody goes hungry." Within minutes, we were wolfing down burritos and burrito fixings to our hearts content until we were all completely full (which is hard to do with a St. Bernard ;)Thus started an annual tradition that has grown in size and complexity ever since.
The next wrinkle to this story occurs about five years later after Burrito Night had already started to morph into this annual party where I invited friends and family to join the St. Bernard and I eating burritos (at a much more reasonable hour, I assure you). It was during the 150th recitation of the Burrito Night motto, "Nobody goes hungry on Burrito Night," that I realized that what I was saying wasn't entirely true. There were lots of people who were going hungry on Burrito Night, and I couldn't possibly feed them all. So, starting that year, I required one thing from my guests as "payment" for the delicious burritos they were about to receive - a donation for the San Francisco Food Bank.
This year's Burrito Night is going to be held this Sunday. The dogs have changed. The house has been remodeled. The backyard now sports a deck and a garden railroad. But beyond that, the evening has not changed its focus nor its menu. We will offer the usual fixings - beef, chicken, steak, shrimp, and sausage - as well as all the trimmings - rice, beans, chili, lettuce, tomato, jalapenos, cheese, etc... - for all our guests to make whatever combination burrito they choose. This is all provided free of charge to all who bring a donation to the San Francisco Food Bank. The food is good, the company is good, and the atmosphere is low key. B.Y.O.B.
I mention all this not only as announcement but as a suggestion to all of you readers out there who are looking for a way to foodraise for your own local food banks. Its not complicated. Its not hard. And it gives you an opportunity to eat great burritos. I'd love to see the Buritto Night movement spread around the country so that one day the Burrito Night motto might be closer to the truth than not.
So, remember, on Burrito Night nobody goes hungry.
Monday, June 18, 2007
A Rebuttal
"Dude, it's Andy. Listen, I've got tickets to tonight's Giants game. Can you go?"
"Let me check my busy schedule. Yes, I can go."
"Great, can you come by Glide Memorial Church to pick up the tickets?"
"Yeah, man, no problem... I'm practically already there."
"See you soon, man."
Click.
"Woo Hoo! That's the fifth set of tickets this month!"
"That's awesome, Will. Where'd you find that guy to impersonate Jesus?"
"What guy? What are you talking about?"
"Andy keeps giving up his tickets because Jesus tells him that He has more important plans for Andy."
"Wait... you mean that guy... long scraggly hair, camel hair robe, powerful eyes... that's Jesus?"
"You've seen him too?"
"Yeah, he used to ride with me to work as well."
"What happened?"
"I thought he was a ticket scalper! I've seen Jesus, my Lord, He was here in plain view, and I kicked Him to the curb!"
"What are you going to do now?!"
"There's only one thing I can do... Hello? Andy? Yeah, listen, do those tickets come with free parking... No, wait, that wasn't I was calling about. Um... I can't go. I have a powerful urge to join you tonight at Glide. (mumble grumble mumble) Yes, I know Barry might break the record tonight, but some things are more important. Okay. See you soon. Bye."
"That was very good, Will. I'm proud of you."
"Yeah, whatever... say? Who are you anyway?"
"I'm Jesus."
For some of us, the message takes longer to sink in.
"Let me check my busy schedule. Yes, I can go."
"Great, can you come by Glide Memorial Church to pick up the tickets?"
"Yeah, man, no problem... I'm practically already there."
"See you soon, man."
Click.
"Woo Hoo! That's the fifth set of tickets this month!"
"That's awesome, Will. Where'd you find that guy to impersonate Jesus?"
"What guy? What are you talking about?"
"Andy keeps giving up his tickets because Jesus tells him that He has more important plans for Andy."
"Wait... you mean that guy... long scraggly hair, camel hair robe, powerful eyes... that's Jesus?"
"You've seen him too?"
"Yeah, he used to ride with me to work as well."
"What happened?"
"I thought he was a ticket scalper! I've seen Jesus, my Lord, He was here in plain view, and I kicked Him to the curb!"
"What are you going to do now?!"
"There's only one thing I can do... Hello? Andy? Yeah, listen, do those tickets come with free parking... No, wait, that wasn't I was calling about. Um... I can't go. I have a powerful urge to join you tonight at Glide. (mumble grumble mumble) Yes, I know Barry might break the record tonight, but some things are more important. Okay. See you soon. Bye."
"That was very good, Will. I'm proud of you."
"Yeah, whatever... say? Who are you anyway?"
"I'm Jesus."
For some of us, the message takes longer to sink in.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Will Almighty
Okay, I finally saw Bruce Almighty last night and it was annoying in parts and really touching in others. I thought Bruce was maybe a little too much of an archetype to really be believable, but it made for some effective storytelling. And when Bruce finally learns his lesson, I admit that it hit me pretty hard. But that's not what this blog is about.
It got me to think, what would I do if I had God's power for one day. And then I narrowed it down to what I would do if I had His power for one moment, one action, one "wish" so to speak.
And so, here, in no particular order are the "injustices" I would fix if I were embued with God's power for a moment...
1) I'd like to teach the world to drive. Can you imagine if suddenly everyone knew how to use their turn signals and be courteous?
2) I'd like to uninvent cell phones, and home video game consoles, and the last eight years of Republican rule.
3) I'd like the Giants to win a World Series in my lifetime (maybe just one of those biblical promises sort of things - a Isaiah like prophecy! And the Lord said, "Lo, the sun shall not set on Will Robison's life before the San Francisco Giants win the World Series!")
4)I'd make chocolate a cure for depression.
5) I'd allow some scientist to discover cold fusion with seawater in a matter that could never be perverted into a weapon of any kind.
6) I'd repopulate the world's oceans with fish.
7) I'd add a few mandatory religious holidays to the calendar.
8) I'd rewrite portions of the Bible to make it clear about my stance on telemarketers.
9) I'd find worthy parents for all orphans.
and, finally,
10) I'd send a small person sized meteorite down upon any Hollywood executive that suggested a classic movie be remade.
I'm not sure my movie would be all that interesting though. Just for curiosities sake on this Friday afternoon, what would you do if you had THE POWER for a few minutes?
It got me to think, what would I do if I had God's power for one day. And then I narrowed it down to what I would do if I had His power for one moment, one action, one "wish" so to speak.
And so, here, in no particular order are the "injustices" I would fix if I were embued with God's power for a moment...
1) I'd like to teach the world to drive. Can you imagine if suddenly everyone knew how to use their turn signals and be courteous?
2) I'd like to uninvent cell phones, and home video game consoles, and the last eight years of Republican rule.
3) I'd like the Giants to win a World Series in my lifetime (maybe just one of those biblical promises sort of things - a Isaiah like prophecy! And the Lord said, "Lo, the sun shall not set on Will Robison's life before the San Francisco Giants win the World Series!")
4)I'd make chocolate a cure for depression.
5) I'd allow some scientist to discover cold fusion with seawater in a matter that could never be perverted into a weapon of any kind.
6) I'd repopulate the world's oceans with fish.
7) I'd add a few mandatory religious holidays to the calendar.
8) I'd rewrite portions of the Bible to make it clear about my stance on telemarketers.
9) I'd find worthy parents for all orphans.
and, finally,
10) I'd send a small person sized meteorite down upon any Hollywood executive that suggested a classic movie be remade.
I'm not sure my movie would be all that interesting though. Just for curiosities sake on this Friday afternoon, what would you do if you had THE POWER for a few minutes?
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
American Protections.
I came across evidence today on a bumper sticker that there is a new benevolent god out there looking out for our concerns as Americans. It seems that the Bush Regime may have finally built that unbeatable coalition of forces to protect our shores.
The bumper sticker read:
Flying Spaghetti Monster Bless You.
(It took me a moment to figure out what it was trying to say.)
Combined with news straight from the Weekly World News that Angels have now joined Homeland Security to protect our skies, I feel fairly confident in the divine might of this country. Between a bunch of anti-terrorist Angels and a giant Flying Spaghetti Monster, its a good time to be an American.
Now if only I can awaken that giant purpleheaded snorklecack who likes to eat anyone wearing Dodger Blue, then my raison de maison will be complete. (Sorry, its been over 25 years since I had a French class).
The bumper sticker read:
Flying Spaghetti Monster Bless You.
(It took me a moment to figure out what it was trying to say.)
Combined with news straight from the Weekly World News that Angels have now joined Homeland Security to protect our skies, I feel fairly confident in the divine might of this country. Between a bunch of anti-terrorist Angels and a giant Flying Spaghetti Monster, its a good time to be an American.
Now if only I can awaken that giant purpleheaded snorklecack who likes to eat anyone wearing Dodger Blue, then my raison de maison will be complete. (Sorry, its been over 25 years since I had a French class).
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
The "I Can't Take Life Seriously" Mood
After reading Randall's last comment, any pretense I may have had about being a moody, serious, and brooding intellect went out the window. I just don't feel like it. I want to party, siesta, forever... come on people, let's sing this song!
So, I'd thought I'd ask a question that really matters to us all and that hopefully, in the form of a categories type question, we might collectively come up with the answer.
Considering Disney's new penchant for creating Franchises out of rides, I was wondering about the plots for some possible new franchises. So...
What would be the plot for a new Disney movie entitled, "Matterhorn"?
Give your best (or worst) answers in the comments.
So, I'd thought I'd ask a question that really matters to us all and that hopefully, in the form of a categories type question, we might collectively come up with the answer.
Considering Disney's new penchant for creating Franchises out of rides, I was wondering about the plots for some possible new franchises. So...
What would be the plot for a new Disney movie entitled, "Matterhorn"?
Give your best (or worst) answers in the comments.
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