Good news

Paulie's staying with the White Sox. And if that weren't enough...

The Bulls are winning. Although nobody expects a breakthrough year for them again, they are in the toughest division and holding their own. Although we lost to the Knicks tonight, both teams seem to be on the right paths recently, them with Larry Brown (if anybody can shape-up Curry, it's Brownie) and us with winning on the West Coast during Barnum & Bailey '05. I still want a good center in Chicago. AD, if you're listening...

Well, we still have (although for a different sport) Kreutz. So, maybe I spoke too hastily about the need for a good center in the city. Although, if I were to qualify that statement as, "a good center who doesn't knock-out other team members in firing ranges," we may still be looking. In other news, the Bears just keep winning. Although some are saying we're overhyped, trust me, Chicago fans are in need of a - and deserve a - little excitement XX years after Super Bowl XX.

We ain't here to cause no trouble. We're just here to do the Super Bowl Shuffle.

Cubs? Oh well, always next year.

Blackhawks may as well move south. Or north. East. West. To Siberia. I don't care. Can we make the Wolves our mainstay pro hockey team? Oh, they already are?

On a less global level, my church finally replaced me (well, in a good way) and I have more time to concentrate on my new teaching job.

We actually have some time in the day, now that the kids have started gym classes, to get some work and preperation done.

And, Starfish Studios, a not-for-profit filmmaking company that I've volunteered for (and would like to again) that works alongside urban children and youth is having a great year. (Although, I'm sure Vision Nehemiah would appreciate your prayers.)

To all: Peace.

that small

The art of
Magic is hard

to write about;

you experience it
only

as you fall under

its spell
--
The smell of
Basil commands
you view around
a blind-taste brilliance;

bulbs wince, they've seen the sun, they're

that small

Johnny Tag - No freezes.

If I had known he wanted to be tagged earlier, I would've done it myself. But, he waits for this li'l gem to come his way. Micah, for you:

Here's how you play this one:

1. Go into your archives.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Post the fifth sentence (or closest to it).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same thing.

Easy enough, right?

In my first month of blogging, by the way, I did close to thirty posts (edit: contrast that with this month, where I barely had a dozen even after a last minute rush), and many of them long. The 23rd was the shortest:

The scary part is, I fit about half these descriptions.

Um... yeah.

The usual suspects are tagged: Christine, Adam, Alisa, Timi and Gabrielle. If you wanted to be tagged and were not, lo siento, I'm sorry. Maybe you can contact these fine people and they'll give you their tag - or, better yet, maybe they'll tag you. Jen can't be tagged 'cuz she's only got 10 posts (she's a newbie).

I am a God-blessed man

Truly, surely, you jest.

(Yes, yes. I know, "Don't call me Shirley.")

But I am a man blessed by such, and as proof:

We went out yesterday.* For the whole day. She's leaving town in a couple days, and I've only got to see her once before and talk to her a couple times. So, yesterday was to be a special day.


*Sorry, if you know who she is, then I don't need to tell you. If you don't know, I'm at liberty to not tell you at this moment.

Great news!

1) Snow!

There's a post in there. I can just feel it. One of those long essay posts I used to do during the summer and I miss doing so much now.

2) One more obstacle down!

Now it's mostly just a matter of time. A lot of it. And the Spirit.

Arrested Development's development has been... well, you got the joke by now.

I already made the joke with the rap group, so I won't do that again (A game of horseshoes?). But I just Netflixed season 2 and am in the thick of watching it (between sleeping and ostensibly grading papers and reading a young adult lit novel). Hilariousity ensues.

My favorite joke is where the emotionally crippled and oedipal younger brother Buster (as an 11 year old) finds out that Rosa, the maid, accidentally let his parakeet out and, as revenge, raids what he believes to be her living area - yes, the kitchen. Later, he throws her favorite toy (the Dirt Devil) at her car (the city bus). That same episode ("Good Grief") has a running visual gag concerning the Vince Guaraldi Trio soundtrack to the Charlie Brown Christmas special and some low laying of the head, along with a special apparence by a large red doghouse and a poorly trained beagle, a spider-hole, an Anne Frank reference, and a mock burial where the only one sad was also trying to get with the bounty-hunter catering the event.

How could you not love this show?
Oh, and there's this little magic act intro/dance.

In the meantime, I found this nifty little AD spot, remniscent of snpp.com (The Simpsons' fans' archive web site), only a little more current.

Edit:
Oh, by the way, in case you didn't know why I wrote this, Arrested Development has been cancelled. Presumably to make room for better Fox fare, like Stacked and that show with Michael Rappaport that ruins Sunday evenings for countless King of the Hill and Simpsons fans who may want to watch Family Guy and don't care for the weeping shows on ABC.

We all Shine on!

In anticipation of Steve Taylor's movie coming out in early February, I'm attempting to post periodically on his accomplishments (such as bronze and gold medals in Olympic luging and Trans-American gas guzzling, and saving an ocassional baby from an ocassional fire) and lyrics. This time, we'll post on his most famous song, co-written with the Newsboys a few years ago and probably one of the weirdest- and pop-friendly - songs to hit the top of the CCM charts ever. But the kids got it. And so do I. It's Roaring Lambs in three minutes, set to the tune of "You Sexy Thing" and to the understanding of your common AcidHead, latter-era Beatles fan.

[no pics, sorry]

Shine:

dull as dirt
you can't assert the kind of light
that might persuade
a strict dictator to retire
fire the army
teach the poor origami
the truth is in
the proof is when
you hear your heart
start asking, "What's my motivation?"

and try as you may, there isn't a way
to explain the kind of change
that would make an Eskimo renounce fur
that would make a vegetarian barbecue hamster
unless you can trace this about-face
to a certain sign...

SHINE
MAKE 'EM WONDER WHAT YOU'VE GOT
MAKE 'EM WISH THAT THEY WERE NOT
ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING BORED
SHINE
LET IT SHINE BEFORE ALL MEN
LET 'EM SEE GOOD WORKS, AND THEN
LET 'EM GLORIFY THE LORD

out of the shaker and onto the plate
it isn't Karma
it sure ain't fate
that would make a Deadhead sell his van
that would make a schizophrenic turn in his crayons
Oprah freaks
and science seeks a rationale
that shall excuse
this strange behavior

when you let it shine
you will inspire
the kind of entire turnaround
that would make a bouncer take ballet
(even bouncers who aren't...happy)
but out of the glare
with nowhere to turn
you ain't gonna learn it on "What's My Line?"

SHINE... 

Much love to Seeklyrics.com.

Blue Streak

May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart
be pleasing to you,
O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.
Psalm 29:14

I've found myself repeating that verse to calm me down. I've been cursing quite a bit - albeit underneath my breath - this past school year. But I realize that that's not a good Christian testimony (1) and it's not good and healthy language, which is what my students need to hear (2, and probably more important).

I don't think that there is real justification for swearing. having said that, I'm coming to some horrible grips with myself. I'm finding myself swearing increasingly. More recently, I think it's been dying down, but honestly, the words of my mouth are not acceptable to my God, who is my Rock and my Redeemer.

Therefore, it shows that my thoughts aren't always pure either. Because that's what the mouth does, it eventually exposes what's in the heart.

And the heart is deceitful and wicked. Who can understand it? I certainly can't even comprehend my own heart.

But here's another reason why, as for Christians, it is a big deal to swear: it's language made of words. Jesus himself is described as The Word. Now, one can argue that it's different, that Jesus is the Logos, the answer to the (largely Greek) hypothetical and philosophical questions of life. Or that he is God revealed, or revealed God. But the simple fact of the matter is that God chose to reveal himself by actions AND words. And furthermore, that faith comes by hearing and hearing the Word of God. That God spoke...

So, words are sacred of their own right, for Jesus, by being the Word, made them sacred. For God, by speaking through words, made them sacred. For the Holy Spirit, by consistently using the Word to change and shape lives, makes them sacred. And as such they should be treated by those who worship a sacred God.

Send in the Clones!

I've been extremely emotional the last month. Mostly good emotions, though often very sad, very lost. But, I've been trying to keep this blog from turning into The Mangina Dialogues. Don't know how long that effort will last.

But, in the meantime, I've wanted to do a bit of a run-down on Steve Taylor, one of the most important artists in the formation of my little art-sensitive mind. Taylor was a Christian music recording artist that blew the walls within Christian music. He wrote intelligent (sometimes belligerent, sometimes sensitive) and incisive critical pop music for the times, calling to task social issues like abortion, abortion clinic bombings, the life-boat mentality (evaluation of individual's worth to society and therefore, life), the absence of objective truth, racism (esp. in a certain 'Christian' liberal arts college in the South), personal, familial and public consequences for actions, the weight of heroes, the church-afied people mentality, etc., etc.

I want to periodically print up some of Taylor's lyrics and/or writings. Some of them are from his solo material (most in the 80's), and some from group work (his mainstream but short-lived rock band Chagall Guevera and another pop CCM mainstay, the Newsboys). Today's will be one of the many of the church-afied variety of Steve Taylor song. From the EP of the same name:

I Want to Be a Clone

I'd gone through so much other stuff
that walking down the aisle was tough
but now I know it's not enough
I want to be a clone

I asked the Lord into my heart
they said that was the way to start
but now you've got to play the part
I want to be a clone

chorus:
Be a clone and kiss conviction goodnight
cloneliness is next to Godliness, right?
I'm grateful that they show the way
'cause I could never know the way
to serve him on my own
I want to be a clone

They told me that I'd fall away
unless I followed what they say
who needs the Bible anyway?
I want to be a clone

Their language it was new to me
but Christianese got through to me
now I can speak it fluently
I want to be a clone

(chorus)

Send in the clones
Ah, I kind of wanted to tell my friends and people about it, you know
What?
You're still a babe
you have to grow
give it twenty years or so
'cause if you want to be one of his
got to act like one of us

(chorus)

So now I see the whole design
my church is an assembly line
the parts are there
I'm feeling fine
I want to be a clone

I've learned enough to stay afloat
but not so much I rock the boat
I'm glad they shoved it down my throat
I want to be a clone

Everybody must get cloned

Thanks to sockheaven.net for the lyrics and album cover art I just swiped.

I Puff-Daddy'd this first one from Looking Closer

First, I've raved plenty on Over the Rhine. My favorite mood music, honestly. If ever I get sad again (probably at 10:30 pm), Ohio and Drunkard's Prayer are the albums du jour (or is that duex jour? I don't speak-a any language so good!). So, I was fairly excited to hear that they're up for a Grammy nomination. The reason I say 'fairly excited' is because... well, it's the Grammys (c). And of course, it's some obscure little nook and cranny, like Best Folk/Acoustic Performance by a Non-Homosexual Duo or something like that.

I finally got around to getting LA Symphony's Disappear Hear. Nice. Thanks to the cats who kept me up-to-beat. I had heard all this good news about LA Symph and then bought The End Is Now, only to be let-down. This one, though, is a bit of a bouncy, danceable bumper from start-to-finish. Too bad the sound system in my church office consists of blown-out computer speakers.


Also finally getting around to watching the Firefly series on DVD. I still hold to the opinion that you didn't need to watch the series to view Serenity, but it'd help. By the way, rent the whole boat-load. Joss Whedon, space and cowboys! What more need I say?

And, what else has been going on?

Oh yeah! My secret friend has been upgraded to special friend. It's only a matter of time... (Lord, please, take care of those obstacles as only you can.)

Ok, so this is related to the top-secret date

I'm not one for romantic movies, but:

You had me at hello.

Psalm 23: (for context, read Psalm 22):

1 The LORD is my shepherd; I have everything I need.

2 He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams.

3 He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name.

4 Even when I walk through the dark valley of death, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me.
Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.

5 You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You welcome me as a guest, anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings.

6 Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the LORD forever.

I don't understand you all

It's almost kind of funny. Although my house was filled with boys (four younger brothers and many of our friends on any given day) my favorite people growing up were my mama and grandma - two women. But, I guess I never really spent too much time with them. I would always help in the kitchen, but I never learned to cook. And they never unleashed on me the divine secrets of the mama sisterhood.

It's almost kind of funny. I'm not an Alpha Male. I know that. Growing up, I didn't really play sports besides Johnny Tag and various incarnations of tag - including a beaning game we played between trees with a tennis ball. I was fairly athletic, though - if by athletic you mean quick and willowy and nimble at all of 80 pounds. I've always been fairly competitive, but certainly not the brutish stereotype of the man's man, six-pack and football and poker and strippers and... well, you get the picture. Obviously, I've never even been to these man's men hang-outs. In fact, I'm fairly sensitive. I used to cry all the time as a teenager. Of course, now I can't stand it when a young man gets all misty-eyed in my sight. But I couldn't stand my own hyper-sensitivity either.

It's almost kind of funny. If you look at my contacts here or the people I hang out with, they're overwhelmingly female (heck, some of the guys are underwhelmingly female!). But I don't understand how your minds work. I don't! I say mean things all the time. But I'm usually not aware that they're mean things. I come from a place where being sarcastic was a way of demonstrating affection. I won't pick up on the fact that what I said was inconsiderate until it's just about blown up in my face. Or someone (a woman, for sure) will say something to the effect of, "Well, no wonder you're not married yet."

Yeah.

Why am I saying this right now? Am I going through anything, particularly? No, not really.

Am I angry or frustrated at anybody? No, not unless you count myself. And even now, I'm not really angry with me.

I guess I'm just confounded by my own insensitivity to others, by the secrets, thoughts and scents of the woman.

hooo- wahh

It's just too marvelous to me. But I don't understand your thought processes. I don't understand what sets you off. I don't understand when I've done something to please or displease you. I don't understand what makes you tick.I like the cut of this man's gibberish!

Or the simplest bodily functions. Or your social-bility. I don't understand your insecurities, although I'm sure we're often to blame for it. I don't understand why so many women would spend so much time trying to pick up and get the attention of men, yet loudly declare, "I don't need a man." I don't understand the need to be loved and accepted and confirmed at all times. I don't understand why or how I should pick up on mis-leading signals nor why or how I would get in trouble for my inability to read them.

These are not shortcomings, though, of women. That is a different list for a different day, I'm sure (Hopefully, I won't be the fool to write that one). These are just curiosities of mine. These are the wonders, the things too wonderful to me. Why do I find the female so utterly fascinating, yet don't know what or how to deal with her (in general)? How could love that I didn't even know existed yet flickered and once in a while smarted in the recesses of my dumb soul burn so warmly and light me up so vividly in such a short period of epiphany? And what will become of this love, these affections of mine - and hers - if it all blows up like gasoline or burns down like Shakespearean embers at our feet (something we're committed to not allowing to happen. But even still...)? For sure, God will still be at the center, holding it all together, but I can't imagine not being a good bit sadder.

He who holds the keys to lady understanding, let him open the door to illuminate us all! He who has ears to hear, let him hear. He who has mouth to speak, though, don't. I'd rather marvel at this moment. Sister Wisdom, speak your words of life.

The Blood Issue

Tomorrow is Youth Sunday. Youth Sunday is an event in my church that takes place every fifth Sunday of the month when the congregation temporarily forgets itself and succumbs to the benefits / fears of what The Future may look like, as the youth group takes over the service. And not only is tomorrow Youth Sunday at New Hope Bible Church tomorrow is also The Worst-Planned Youth Sunday Ever! Certainly under my jurisdiction. I didn’t even find out what the sermon was on until today. Our prospective youth leader is preaching and being introduced tomorrow. My associate pastor said it’s gonna be on “the blood issue.” I was like, “That’s great! Man, I wonder if the worship team could do some old-school powerhouses like ‘Nothing but the Blood’ or ‘The Blood Will Never Lose Its Power.’”

So I asked one of the worship people, the leader for the month. She was pretty excited about the prospect, despite the lateness of it all. And I went out looking for the lyrics, etc. Not like I spent a lot of time on it. Then I talked to a couple of the other worship people (the primary music people) and they were getting excited about it. Until they caught the connection.

“Oh, no. The sermon’s going to be on ‘the blood issue.’”

“Wait. What’s the diff…? Ohh, do you mean…?”

“Yeah, that one.”

I don’t remember who used the word menstrual first, but I (never one to let go of a good idea no matter how bad it is) was trying to make the connection between Christ’s blood for righteousness and the unclean blood not to be touched in the days of the Old Testament.

“Y’know, like ‘All of our good deeds are as dirty rags.”

“Right,” with an understanding and understated gaze, “dirty tampons.”

“I mean…”

“It’s a bit of a stretch.”

I’m still trying to justify it in my head. Finally echo, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a stretch.”

Week-ending Update

Traditionally, a best-of-seven series means the first team or individual to win four games wins the series.

For all of the hype (and despite the best efforts of SI to curse us yet again), the White Sox took the World Series in less time than it would take for a laughably histrionic Latin American manager to bodily signal for a really large and wide closer.

But, you already knew that. Unless you've been living under a rock. Or the social equivalent of that, northern South America or Toronto.

And, as if talking about it makes it magically become better, I learned some things about manCHILD and Dust from an interview this week. For one, did you know that they're actually supported by networks of people that give of their resources on a regular basis? I don't know if it's incorporated or not, but Mars Ill is, in many ways, a really cool and down-to-earth missionary organization. Take that, Brian.

Another low-rated post is up and away!

For some reason, my posts about sports, and particularly baseball, and particularly the White Sox, are pretty much ignored. The few sports-related writings that I catch in the blogocosmos tend to focus on college ball. Maybe that's just my neck of the woods. A slight majority of my blogger-friends are girls, after all. For the most part, where younger, so we've been disenfranchised by the corporate and hands-down greed of corporate (read, professional) sports. So, we cling to the highest level of sports purity we can find, collegiate.

I tend to think that that way of thinking is deceptive. Look at the academic, social, moral and sexual scandals that have been rocked from such learned places as the U. of Minnesota, Colorado U., and even the prestigious and Baptist Baylor University. Look at all the monies that come into the NCAA and the top competitive schools through the BCS and March Madness. And then watch where the money trickles. No one can really say that they're getting a fair shake out of the deal. Not the athletes (many of whom can claim to make much more in the pros than their stipend of books and allowances, and many of whom are cheated of a fair education), not the general population (how many regular students in state colleges work their tails off to get a fair share of the educational piece), not the alumni (who are, honestly, being sidewined into helping the school out financially), and not the schools (who lose focus whenever these big events happen).

For all that negative carping I just went on about, there's plenty of positives (school pride, donor funds, the human drama on the stage of the open fields that is sports, unity, healthy outlets for stressed students and alumni, and just plain ol' fun), but my point is that I don't think that the divide between pro- and collegiate- sports it's all that it's cracked up to be.

With that, Sox will continue working their magic tonight. Just as they did with Contreras last night, with his arms of Advil supplements. Crede was, well... no more puns. But he got my player of the game with his tight defensive throwing arm and runs.

And, that's about it.

I'm sure I'll get some comments now.

I don't think Pigeon John's on this one

But that's all right. We'll forgive 'em this time.



LA Sympony has dropped a new one. Record. Full-length. And it's more straight forward - so I hear - than The End Is Now. TEIS was decent, but I had heard so much about L.A.S. that it was a major let-down, with a few exceptions. I expect not to be let down this time.



In other underground genius news, Mars Ill is expecting the retooled, reloaded and (this time) released ProPain to drop in January. Lawyers, let my people go!

ProPain: It's enough to give Hank Hill a cardiac arrest, I'll tell you what.

Still favorite line this year:
I wanna touch the fans like Ron Artest.
Deepspace 5.

Ah, Suffragate City!

Wham-bam, thank you Minnesota!

You've pretty much allowed for a great week in Chicago.

Our dinky little local team - in an area that is go-go baseball first - is going to the semis on Wednesday night. Of course, I'm speaking of the Roberto Clemente Wildcat varsity football team. And the soccer team was in the playoffs, also. Although I didn't hear how they fared.

Minnesota's Vikings are in such woeful predicaments that the Bears gave them a pounding. Arrrrr!!

Sorry, wrong sea-farer.

Whoa! Blow me down!

Ah-ga-ga-ga-ga-gah.

That's more like it.

And then there's the Sox, so positively reaffirming in their handling of the AL that Sports Illustrated had to curse them. Today, as I was checking back issues of SI I noticed the preseason predictions. Cubs = 2nd place in the Central AL. Close, if I recall. Yanks and Red Sox, 1st and 2nd in the Eastern American. Clairvoyant. Sox = 3rd place, just above the Detroit Tigers in the AL Central. Exsqueeze me? The Detroit Tigers are the Detroit Lions of professional baseball.

What iss you @###%^^& lookeen at?

How about best record in baseball coming out of the gate? And never relinquishing that title. How about four - count them, 1-2-3-four - starting pitchers completing winning games, in a roll? During the Finals?

I've already written a couple couple articles about this (edit: including a wild but valid prediction the afternoon of the first WS game) but I just thought it was time to hear the truth again. Team sports are supposed to be about the team.

Go community!

Go Bulls!

I knew that come Monday morning, I would most likely not see my dean, nor one of her clerks. The clerk is a member of my church. And she is expecting. She will be gone for a while. And missed. The dean's sister was in critical condition. We knew to expect her to be gone for about a week and soon. Now was the time.

But what I arrived at on Monday morning, while I was still struggling to shake the scales from my eyes and the sleep from my step, was unexpected. Ladies were crowding around a print-out news article from the internet. Somebody, I knew this much and not much more, on staff, was killed. It would take me a moment to find out that this lady was Ms. Jones, the dean from the floor directly above us.

Now, at this point, I had already heard a lot about the gang violence, including security guards who had to make certain calls to certain people to clear their way before they arrived in their own neighborhoods and homes. I never assumed that that was the issue here. I'd like to thank God and my own raising, which taught me that everyone is innocent until proven guilty. But then I wouldn't be fully honest. I think I was just slow on the draw.

Her husband murdered her, and tried to murder her son. He was known to be violent. She tried to divorce him. She had restrictions on him, based on his violence.

How do we protect ourselves from the evil influences within and without? The days are evil. The revelation is that I'm only seeing what the truth is. Mothers against daughters, husbands vs. wives, sons against fathers. This generation (not just my supposed generation, X or whatever other label we are given, but humanity in general) is wicked.

Yes, there is plenty of good stuff happening in the world. Plenty of those ah!! moments. But sometimes you just have to face the utter terror in the world. It's scary. But it's reality.

And it doesn't need to be.

Father, teach me to love, completely.

There's not too much more I can say at this point but...

I

life now, folks.

I did before, of course. But, you know. It's different now. Even though I'm the king of jerks and Lord of fools. God is gracious. His mercy is everlasting.

More moovies, baby

With a group of friends I went to see The Gospel last weekend. The audience for this late Friday screening largely consisted of two church groups, and we were the dwarfish ones. But that's OK.

So was the movie. Of course, I'm being generous. I really, unfortunately, did not expect a lot out of the movie. It delivered. Now, I first heard of the movie through my East Coast rep, Timi (who has a very intriguing post out now, of which I'll only refer to the first couple - relevant - sentences, but I'll link to here), who promptly reviewed the movie. To borrow from Bart aping Flanders, Timi says the movie "Suck-diddly-ucked." She is right in assessing that this movie is a churchy movie and does not deliver the titular good news.

Alas, very few people understand that the term gospel refers to the good news of the way, truth and life of Jesus Christ and not just to a particular type of music and cultural expression. To even get into that now... I can't just yet. I will soon, though. I might as well explain what I'm all about sometime, eh?

I didn't know anything about the filmmakers until I read the review in the Onion (yes, the news is fake, but the reviews are real, if not extraordinary). Apparently, the writer / director for this seemingly Christian movie also wrote and directed some African American sexploitation movies with the title Trois. I've seen the covers on my visits to Blockbuster. And it has nothing to do with the Count learning French. Interesting, indeed. Apparently, he's a low-rent R. Kelly of movies. Well, at least without the whole child-molestation thing. Hopefully.

The LookingCloser blog is having a little discussion on the difference of acceptance between "White Christian" movies and "Black Christian" movies. I'm debating whether or not I want to jump into that argument. But don't let that stop you. Argue here or there. It's so much fun.

Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggggggghhh! Blockheads.

A real forward I received from someone close, who I promptly lambasted. I'm sorry, but it upsets me so. I am leaving the typos intact, as well as my own non-caps reply (with some editing for personal reasons, of course).

Dr. James Dobson, with Focus on the Family, pleads for our action. An organization has been granted a Federal Hearing on the same subject by the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) in Washington, DC. Their petition, Number2493, would ultimately pave the way to stop the reading of the gospel of our Lord and Savior, on the airwaves of America. They got 287000 signatures to back their stand! If this attempt is successful, all Sunday worship services being broadcast on the radio or by television will be stopped. This group is also campaigning to remove all Christmas programs and Christmas carols from public schools! You as a Christian can help! We are praying for at least1 million signatures. This would defeat their effort an show that there are many Christians alive, well and concerned about our country. As Christians, we must unite on this. Please don't take this lightly. We ignored one lady once and lost prayer in our schools and in offices across the nation. Please stand up for your religious freedom and let your voice be heard. Together we can make a difference in our country while creating an opportunity for the lost to know the Lord. Please press "forward."

you are one of the smartest people i know. why are you hoodwinked by this goofiness?

let's presuppose that they got 30 million people to sign a petition like this. that's one tenth of the entire population of the us. is that enough to change fcc regulations so dramatically? no. the fcc is a regulating body that, like the irs, enforces laws. if people wanted to eradicate church services from broadcast (which, if you listen to gospel radio stations in chicago, might be tempting), they'd need to go through congress. and that won't happen anytime soon.

and if it did happen soon? i say good. bring it on, baby! get the Church to take Christ seriously, rather than our preachers and musicians and get-rich-with-God-on-our-side philosophies.

here's the rub. we christians are giving God a bad name and establishing a bad witness by jumping every stinking time someone says 'oppression.' please, we aren't being oppressed. not christians in the US today, the most church-friendly nation in the world. saudi arabia, iran, cuba, sudan, somalia, china, pakistan - those are oppressive countries for Christians.

we need to worry about not falling into the trap of being a blemish to Christ by following after every wift of wind, not grounded in truth or reality.

i'm done sermonizing. but please don't send me any more of these forwards (some of them are all right, but the petitioning ones have got to go.)

By the way, I'm not sure if the FCC is just an enforcement body. But I believe that's true. By the way, Charlie Brown and Co. have just celebrated fifty whole years of entertaining frustrated overaged children the world over.

Jesus loves you, Charles Shultz. You blockhead!

White Sox, Bay-Bay!

Hey, a sports fan is a sports fan. And a Chicago fan belongs, lives and dies by his home town teams. I'm saying this because I'm a Chi-area bandwagoneer to the supreme. Heck, I'm a Colonel in the Chicago Teams Bandwagon. This is not to say that I only support teams when they're good. I'm always first and formost a fan of teams in Chicago and our near 'burbs. (Sorry, no DeKalb County teams for me.) So, I've been rooting for the Bulls from end-on. Back when Dickie Simpkins was the best thing they had goin' for them. And the Bears. And the Rush. Although I'd love to have a professional football team in Chicago soon, it's just not gonna happen. But if one team is underperforming and acting like a bunch of wussies (enter Cubs stage left) about broadcast personalities who tell it like it is while another is scampering and trying hard - regardless of whether or not they're winning (luckily they are), then I'm going for the team that hustles.

Not Matt Clement.

Anyway, I would like to thank a former North Side pitcher for giving us a break today so that our White Sox (empty stadiums during the year and all. Thank you, Scary Jerry!) can open up a gash on Boston's forhead by the first inning and finish them off by the fourth. Those two beans were especially appreciated, seeing as how you walked the league's best base thief.

Tomorrow, I know, will be a different story. But, seriously, Matt, I'm gonna buy you a beer.

dag nab it!

most of the managers in my fantasy football league are women. you'd think i might be able to do something. i was on vacation during draft day. that's ok, right, cuz i got tiki barbar (yes, the elephant king) and peyton manning (cousin, apparently, to water peyton). but, nooo, the colts are putting out their greatest defense possibly ever and somebody forgot to wake up manning.

apparently, they don't need him. well, hell, i do!!

wake the flip up, manning.

these other cats, i never even heard of. no, that's not true. i got t.o. and ricky 'crazy' williams. two most talented flippin' gone overboards the world's seen in a minute.

jack-diddly-squiddly.

edit:

aww heck naw. i was looking at the wrong team. that's blackbottom girl (remember the Queen song) timi-tims' team. ahhh, that's why she's still in the bottom, too! i've got tampa bay's defense (about three years too late) and jimmy walker from good times as my backup rb.

Sizzling Blissing Cake

People, rise to the occasion:

I’m a little off-beat

I swear the newness of the morn

Shimmied in my teeth

And the best way - I swore - being

all it takes

If I could taste a bit of the blissing cake

Hold me from dusk to dawn -

That’s when I shiver most -

I need a touch of reality – Truth – and

the Holy Ghost

I cannot make this stuff up!

One of my supervisors/advisors for teaching (I need a lot of them) was giving me advice the other day. It was a particularly frustrating week. For all of us. I'm just saying that because I was pretty exhausted and I'm wondering if I was able to hold my composure in keeping the laugh inside.

Her: You know, you have to have show your students and have them respect that this is your classroom, that they should walk in and leave out and the room will look just as nice when they leave as when they come. Umm... Have you ever watched "Seinfeld?"

Me: Yes.

Her: You remember that episode, (dramatic breath) Master of the Domain?

Me: (Hopefully without wincing or a trace of irony) Yes.

Her: That's you. You have to tell the students that you are the Master of your Domain. This here (gesturing the entire classroom with a breath of the arms) is your domain. And you are the Master. (Smiles) Understood?

Me: (Hopefully without wincing or a trace of irony. Looking hard at the floor now, only occasionally looking up to catch her eyes. Back down as soon as I think about that phrase.) Yes.

PS,
If you don't get it, there's a cartoon about two posts down that may or may not clear things up for you. In fact, if you don't get it, it's best I not teach you it.

Everyday, Everyday, Everyday I Write the Book

I stole this from a YouthWorker Journal article. It's a quote from a Patricia Hersch. I expounded on it this morning for a small bit in my reading class, though I'm not quite sure anyone knew what I was talking about. Maybe I should've just read the article.

In the vacuum where traditional behavioural expectations for young people used to exist, in the silence of empty homes and neighborhoods, young people have built ther own community. The adolescent community is a creation by default, an amorphous grouping of young people that constitutes the world in which adolescents spend their time. Their dependence on each other fulfils the universal human longing for community, and inadvertently cements the notion of a tribe apart. More than a group of peers, it becomes in isolation a society with its own values, ethics, rules, worldview, rites of passage, worries, joys, and momentum.

A community of isolation. A tribe of peers and nothing else. Whereas community is about living together and needing each other. It's about give and take and take and give. It's about sharing, caring, hurting, lifting, tearing, biting, borrowing, lending, sending, receiving. And it's about extending as a basis to (although not necessarily only the method to) receive. Tribality is about extending social needs, based on short-sight vision of what our social needs are. And has been already eloquently stated before, it exists because of the vacuum, the community stepping out of the daily lives of teenagers with expectations that either the youth are raised or are being raised well by the media conglomerates and beaurocracies, neither of which is remotely true or healthy.

This is as true in the urban areas as the suburban or exurban or rural areas. As adults have withdrawn themselves from the youths' lives, we have abandoned them to neglect, and not of the benign sort either. One of my most vociferous (and not in the benign way, either) students took one vocabulary word today and was able to run with it. The word was monitor. I used neglect as an antonym. She knew what that word meant, and although the semantic link between monitor and disown is shaky, it is real for her. The question now is, of course, "Who raises these half-children? Who now supports and gives insight and sends and receives of themselves - and not just financially and not just socially - for the welfare of the 'Not yet a woman, not still a girl?'"

I feel overwhelmed. Honestly, I do. And I care deeply. And I feel like I'm making very little progress. And I don't know where to go from here. I have a mound of papers on my desk that need grading so that my students will receive their feedback, but I'm exhausted. I'm physically sick and have been for the last two weeks now. And may be for some time extended. I, again, barely have a social life anymore. It's been a week since I've posted anything here or anywhere else.

But, God is good. I know that I have to be taken care of in order to care for others. And he cares for me even when I feel that I've neglected him. He will get me through this. Just as sure as he got Timi a new job. As well as Alisahmnotuglylikeyou.

I'll post my drunken co-worker's dialogue about Protestant individuality v. Catholic structure as soon as I can clear it all in my head.

Love y'all.

P.S.
White Sox won the flippin' pennant, baby! Tomorrow, the flippin' World Series (if we can reverse this slide!)

You like me, you really, really like me!!

Being the comments um... attention-gatherer that I am (I probably shouldn't use the word that I feel so natural using. Probably because I feel so natural using it.), every once in a while (translation: everyday) I check out my site meter page to find out how many people come to visit me, where they're live and where they came in from.

Surprisingly, not many are coming, presumably, from porno pages. Which probably explains why I have such sparse traffic. Well, that and the fact that I don't try real hard to bring others in to this page and I don't work hard at maintaining those relationships. Especially now.

One day while doing a less regular search of Technorati.com - where you get to type in the name of your blog and find out who's linked to it, etc., - I was delighted to find out that someone had me linked as a must-read, even though I didn't know her. A friend of a friend of Timi's said she's been a longtime visitor, no-time caller. Since none of the members of the 5-fresh crew's had time recently, she seems like a good sister with some lengthy (a compliment in my view) commentaries on what it means to be a Christ-follower in this generation. And she listed me first on her list (of course because I'm the best of the best. Right??). And she stone-quoted Arrested Development. So, if you ever thought what Mr. Left Cheek might sound like if he were a she and a black she at that, check out Spirit's Footprints in the Sand.

But I was wondering why all this rash of people had come to visit me from the Youth Specialties Blog Ring page. So, a few days later I'm checking technorati again and I spot a link in their page. duh! But check this, I made the list for, quote, "Jason gets the Most Random Post of the Week, I think!," unquote. Turns out that the conversation between Timi and my parents that exists only in my bloggery was fairly entertaining. Although apparently not enough that people would leave comments, but still!

Let me also say, I hate the way this blog looks in IE.

Oh, and Christine-Canada is still on some sort of self-imposed Sabbatical, but she left a riff that could take several enjoyable weeks to read. Bon apetit, mes amis!

the language for it is older
than any tongues, any fodder
any odder than that split in half
that moment where we can't
explain
what is in pain
without living it over again
skeletons eat their own
there's ground dust enough
to prove
blood don't give life
as much as soothes
when there's no life left,
no living outside the flesh

Quickie

Hey, get your mind out of the gutter.

I'm broke. Just got the best-paying job of my life and already I'm broke. Payday's Friday, but it'll still take at least two months before I feel on level ground financially.

I don't have a social life anymore. In fact, I shouldn't even be doing this. But I need to do some grading (finally) and last week I spent a couple hours with my friends. And then I got chewed out for not spending more. Yeah, that really helped.

I'm going to bed at 9 or 10 virtually every night. I don't always sleep straight through. But I wake up at 5:30 exhausted and in dire need of coffee. Which is a whole two blocks - a shower and an hour of rummaging - away. When I get some money, I'm going to hire Mr. Coffee as my personal valet.

We're (my church) in the process of hiring a new youth leader. Thursday we get word on whether or not we can begin the interview process. Of course I want God's timing on this and I want the right man (Yeah, I'm a sexist. Alert the media. A Christian wants male pastors!) , but seriously, my entire youth ministry consists of trying to get dudes to play pickup basketball in the parking lot without actually advertising it and a Sunday School that consists largely of one family of four girls. I'm only partially kidding. There's also a young ladies discipleship that I'm really proud of and certain events and whatnot. And I really love my church kids, but they're too busy with their livestock and property and getting and giving away marriages and all.

Timi stood me up yet again. The funny thing is, she calls me, most the time. She talks. I talk. She's never at a loss for words. Which is cool with me, I don't like doing most of the talking on the phone (Really, even in the class) and she does allow me to speak my mind - usually. But she'll inevitably be caught in an intersection, or at the grocery line or whatever and she'll say, "Can I call you back in a couple?" And I think it's understood that a couple means a moment or maybe, maybe, a couple hours. Well, she doesn't call back. I think one time she tried to prove me wrong on this, but for the most part, she'll pick up a whole new topic and call me again in a couple weeks. Often, she'll just text it. "I got a lobotomy today. It just gets worse and worse."

My best blogger friend Christine went on a bloggatical. I'd email her, but I'm on a emailatical.

Oh, and I was deathly ill (crybaby I am also) this last weekend. I need to do grading. Buh-bye.

This is lame. I'm doing a Gabi. Posting on one blog and then on another. Normally, I would just give a teaser, but Xanga's just so difficult to comment on, and everybody here is scared of it. So, without further ado about nothing, my fifth post about my travels, in full:

I would add Timi to my list of women who denied me dates, except that I don’t remember where I placed that thing.

Timi, I knew this much, lives in Delaware. As I looked at the road map, I noticed the peninsula was right above the Virginia Beach area, where my brother was getting married. Of course, I didn’t realize that she’s north of the peninsula itself and as a result is several hours away still. But she stood me up for family. Which is, after all, a way to stand me up - I suppose.

I’m not sure I would’ve wanted her to meet my family. I already told her about my *ahem* eccentric father. The after-effects wouldn’t be devastating (Timi is a survivor, after all. She’s not gonna give up. And I know I can already take just about anything thrown my way.), but the moment could easily be wrenchingly bizarre and humiliating. Though good fodder for future logs.

Dad & mom size Timi up.

Dad (out loud): Oh, that’s quite a catch you got there son! When’s the wedding date?

Me: Catch? No, dad. Don’t.

Timi: Me, catch? Exkyooze me?

Dad: Hommina hommina! She’s a fiery one!

Me: No! Listen. We are not an item. She is not my girlfriend…

Mom: Ohhhh… Is she your special friend, Jason?

Me: No! She is not my special friend. We are not in any way romantic relationship or anything. Today is my first time meeting Timi...

Mom: Jason! Did you call for a… (Looks back at Timi. Almost whispers.) escort?

Me: Mama!!!

Timi: What?? Jason!!

Brothers and sisters-in-law (Laughing so hard they’re spitting out lunch): Jason knows her from the internet.

Dad: (Looks at Timi) How old are you?

Me: No!! I know her from our blogs.

Dad: The frogs? What the heck are your frogs?

Mom: Jason, does the FBI know about this? Are they going to come looking for you?

(Timi has already left.)

Me: See what you guys did? She left!

Mom: Well, if she would already leave you, she wasn’t your real friend anyway.

Brothers and sisters-in-law: Oh man. We haven’t laughed this hard since we don’t know when. Thank you, Jason. Thank you, Timi.

Hmmm…

Maybe I should work on some of these other issues before the next family wedding. You still in, Timi?

Let's roll back the clocks and...

pretend that this is still Saturday, September the 10th, 2005 and our friend Gabrielle Brown was still celebrating, one way or another, her 23rd birthday. At least for this moment. Let September 11th worry about itself.

Below is a cheap variation of a card I gave the Weezer about an hour ago, just before the ultimate deadline. It might go behind the one she got from her insurance company, but still...

Happy birthday Gabzilla!

You always bring the house down.

If you hadn’t noticed, I used fancy schmancy Broadway [actually, Georgia here] font and put it in size 23 [actually, huge font].

The things I won’t do for internet friends. And now, of course, this looks like internet stuff from the mid-90’s, back in the day!

Love and peace,

j.

Michelle Watch

After the weeper that was the "Shelter from the Storm" (apparently, not from the old hymn, but from the Credence Clearwater Revival song that Garth Brooks managed to mangle, but only after Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters tried their hand at a similarly uninspired read from the same band. The names of the respective songs escape me. But what was Robert Randolph doing in the background for the Dixie Chicks and their lame and irrelevant politics?), I started flipping around the idiot box. Yes, Friday nights alright for idiot-ing at the Cheek house.

I briefly stopped at another awards show long enough to find that it's called "Fashion Rocks." The name is a misnomer. It's like how Christian radio used to (if it doesn't now) mute the guitar parts. The first act was DC, who promptly performed a strippers medley in maternity wear. But I could barely hear what they were singing. Or the music. CBS used to be the geezer station, right? Are they still worried about suffering someone's eardrums? Because if they are, they should've lowered Beyonce's level to Michelle Williams and whatsherfaces combined levels. Must have been a big mistake by some rookie to actually put Ms. Knowles-Z's voice all the way in the front, no?

Yes, another one. Before long I'll have my own lame Michelle Williams page and there's nothing you healthier nerds can do about it.

Somebody gave David Bowie a black eye and apparently left him shaken. Like to meet that sissy who has no respect for effeminate, miming unbelievably gifted songwriters.

Then again, it was probably just another stunt. What an artist.

Time may change me... indeed. It's a losing battle.

update:

This is bogus. i don't have time for capitals anymore. i wrote this originally at my xanga. so, how's that? you actually get leftovers from my xanga. i swear, i'll have real writing up again soon. but until then:

teaching, first few days:

the kids are some work, but i'm liking them and the whole working thing. what i'm NOT caring for is the scheduling and all that. in our large school, the whole operation voted and decided that they should go for longer but fewer periods. which was probably a good thing for them. fewer prep periods, but longer lunch and prep periods (the periods between teaching periods that the teachers are able to actually prepare for teaching another class - or else go to meetings. or poo. whatever's of necessity.) and longer times teaching with fewer distractions. it all works out so that they're not actually working more hours or anything.

but that's for the other teachers. we have to teach six periods out of the seven. they have to teach five. yeah. and our students are supposed to have an extra period for art or gym (we're all pulling for gym. dang, they need some excess energy valves.) they don't have that either.

so, we stay late to get our meetings and preps and all that. which, in itself, isn't bad. if i didn't want the extra hours, i probably wouldn't want to be a teacher. but i need some breaks in the middle of the day. it's a bit of work, being in charge and letting them know i'm in charge, right alisa?

oh, and all told, every day we're teaching an hour longer than the other teachers and an hour longer than we're supposed to and an hour longer than the program wants us to. all of our classes are double-periods, so that means that we are in front of the same kids for close to two hours when it's supposed to be, tops, an hour and a half.

ehhh, enough complaining. most of my kids know, by now, that i'm there to be their teacher and i will fight to give them a fair chance at education, everyone in the class starts out with A's (a purely mental approach, i assure you), and i'm a pretty funny guy who can't stop speaking in AAVE (ebonics for the layman or lame woman)

so, it's everything is everything now.

gotta go. love y'all. bof of you.

Top 50 from the year I graduated high school

1993, baby!!

Truth of the matter is, I didn't listen to the radio much in high school, or for a while afterwards. There wasn't a lot that got me by the collar. And I was getting deep into some really good, underground, but Christian stuff. I had already known for a few years about Steve Taylor, but about this time Brainstorm Records was releasing some of the best records I had ever heard in my life. No joking. Adam Again's Dig is still my personal favorite record. Daniel Amos recorded the Beach Boys / Beatles-influenced Motor Cycle, the 77's finally had a terrific album out called Pray Naked (we will not talk about the controversy that generated with the Christian record distributors). And radio was doing what radio's generally best at, pap.

1. I Will Always Love You, Whitney Houston
I used to be a big pop junkie. I loved sentimental crap like this. Honestly, I don't think I've changed too much, except I don't care for
2. Whoomp! (There It Is), Tag Team
Hey, my t-shirt!
3. Can't Help Falling In Love, UB40
Who better to refashion classic pop into raggae? Heck, my first versions of quite a few songs were by UB40.
4. That's The Way Love Goes, Janet Jackson
Ok, was this from Rhythm Nation? Didn't care as much for that album. "My name is Janet. Jackson if you're nasty."
5. Freak, Silk
?? Ok, I lied. I like pop music. But, honestly, I don't know everything. Or even near it.
6. Weak, SWV
Sisters With Voices. Always got 'em confused with N***** with Attitude and Single White Female. I think they were somewhere in the middle.
7. If I Ever Fall In Love, Shai
OK.
8. Dreamlover, Mariah Carey

Honestly. Help me out here. I know it had some high notes in there somewhere.
9. Rump Shaker, Wreckx-N-Effect
That was on my list for years and years. Especially in my work as a janitor. "Make you vacuum." Riley was the stuff. He not only practically invented New Jack, he also helped to forge
10. Informer, Snow
??
11. Nuthin' But A "G" Thang, Dr. Dre
Yes, the beginning of the end of the great hip hop era.
12. In The Still Of The Nite, Boyz II Men
Yeah, buddy. Man, one of the greatest songs of all time. And they did it right.
13. Don't Walk Away, Jade
14. Knockin' Da Boots, H-Town
R. Kelly's really taken pop-r&b up some levels in maturity, ain't he?
15. Lately, Jodeci
Jodeci? Oh, wow. They've always been under my radar. I'm such a putz.
16. Dazzey Duks, Duice
Brought 'em back to the populace.
17. Show Me Love, Robin S.
Is this that "What is love" techno song?
18. A Whole New World, Peabo Bryson and Regina Belle
Oh, wait. This was Disney Soundtrack magic. Ick! Sorry, ladies. Don't care for this either.
19. If, Janet Jackson
Seriously, I'd post a picture. But she just looks TOO much like Michael.
20. I'm So Into You, SWV
You know, if I heard these songs on those commercials for compilations, I would instantly recognize them. Alas...
21. Love Is, Vanessa Willlams and Brian Mcknight
I wonder how many of these tracks BabyFace produced?
22. Runaway Train, Soul Asylum
The funny thing is, almost every one of these songs would be classified as Urban/R&B/Rap. This may be the lone exception - with the possibility of UB40. But neither track would be classified as rock, really. Now, of course, I've noticed that 'country' is hitting the charts. My question is, if the Contemporary Christian Music market lags behind the general market by about 5-10 years, then why are they taking their sweet time on changing their formats? There's definitely enough high quality
23. I'll Never Get Over You (Getting Over Me), Expose
24. Ditty, Paperboy
25. Rhythm Is A Dancer, Snap
Yep. Compilation.

26. The River Of Dreams, Billy Joel
OK. Confession. Loved this crack.
27. I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles), Proclaimers
OK. Confession. Still love and pogo to this track.
28. Two Princes, Spin Doctors
Yeah, I used to love this pablum. Still a bit of a guilty pleasure.
29. Right Here (Human Nature)-Downtown, SWV
I guess they weren't 1 Hit Wonders. Hmmm... Wha' happened?
30. I Have Nothing, Whitney Houston
Right with ya, Whitney. But I ain't following your lead, girl.
31. Mr. Wendal, Arrested Development
Yesssss!!! Dang cursed gangsta rap.
32. Have I Told You Lately, Rod Stewart
'Til we have Faces...
33. Saving Forever For You, Shanice
34. Ordinary World, Duran Duran
What? They hadn't OD'd on coke by now.

We're hungry like the wolf.

35. If I Had No Loot, Tony! Toni! Tone!
Ton-ey! Toani! Toenee!
36. I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That), Meat Loaf
Illll... That was some crapalappa. This song makes me wanna curse.
37. Slam, Onyx
38. Looking Through Patient Eyes, P.M. Dawn
Too patient. Sorry, man. Rap fans couldn't sit down no mo'.
39. I'm Every Woman, Whitney Houston
Good song. I think!
40. Baby I'm Yours, Shai
41. Come Undone, Duran Duran
42. I Don't Wanna Fight, Tina Turner
43. I'd Die Without You, P.M. Dawn
44. Whoot, There It Is, 95 South
The other T-Shirt. That and "I believe in the Big Bang. God said it and 'Bang', there it was!"
45. Hip Hop Hooray, Naughty By Nature
46. Another Sad Love Song, Toni Braxton
Yeah, not that sad? (P.S. Oh my goodness. She done gone pimped out. Like literally. Couldn't find any images that weren't pornographic.)
47. Will You Be There, Michael Jackson
Who's he talking to? I'm too old.
48. Comforter, Shil
49. Good Enough, Bobby Brown
Nope. Not really.
50. What's Up, 4 Non Blondes
And I cry sometimes... and I take a deepbreath

Abridged Traveblogue, Pts. 2 & 3

If you wanna catch it, you gotta go to my xanga site, 'cuz this just don't make no sense.

And somebody do me a favor. I know you're out there. Leave a comment. It just gets so lonely.

I kept asking to go to the lakefront. When I found out, I felt like Charlton Heston at the end of Planet of the Apes.

Some parts did leave me chilled, and the obvious joke of Don Johnston watching Don Juan and running a Don Quixote...

Chris is really cool, and I am so glad and blessed to know her and to befriend her. I would never want to jeapordize that friendship. Not that she'd make a nasty enemy, it's just that I would lose so much.

Don't ask me to convert that to metric.

Toronto also has ugly buildings.

Both times I went through customs they asked how I met my friend.
"Internet," I answer sheepishly.

This time, however, I'm only going at 10 mph over the speed limit... I guess this is my conservation effort. Giving to the cause... I feel so much older...

Small room off the highway. Took me a while to go to sleep with all the passing trucks. It was a good chunk of my budget. I would've peed all over the linen, but it smelled like someone already beat me to it.

God speaks out of the whirlwind?

I'm sure many of us have seen this travesty of news reporting. (If you haven't, pay attention to the circled words and note the difference of the subjects in the accounts.) I do realize that these accounts come from two different news sources. And I don't believe that they are indicative of overt racism. But then again, racism has historically played a large part in the Human Storm - the struggle in the aftermath of the physical storm.

I really don't know what else is left to say of this. Every blog in the English and French-speaking North America by now has something on this. And many are much more educated on it and devastated by it than I am.

Christine has an ex- trying to leave that region. My brother's honeymoon is cut short because his ship is sailing to join efforts to somehow make relief possible.

And the fact of the matter is, I somehow feel less attached and less able to help than with the tsunamis, which didn't directly affect my country. But I saw images there that I could not forget. Much the same as with 9/11 and I was watching on live tv when the second tower was being struck and much later when people were jumping out of windows. Catastrophe. Do I feel less burdened for my own people?

What is it, whenever something horrible is happening in the world, US news media always ask how many Americans are affected? How will we get out of it? How many Americans are in the line of fire?

I mean no offense by this. But there are wars being raged in all parts of the world on a daily basis. Innocent children and civilians are being bombed the hell-over, people are evacuated from their homes because of feuds that rage longer than anyone can dare to speak of, blood-money is the chief currency of the local economies and has the ears of the law-makers and -enforcers (including in this my own Humboldt Park, though to a lesser extent) the world over. And all we care about are a substantially smaller field of Americans?

I know that people will be pissed with me over this, but: how many Iraqis have died in Iraq since the war started v. the amount of US soldiers? I don't want to take life for granted. And I think it's my patriotic duty, as a freedom-loving, hot dog-eating, Coca Cola-drinking, and certainly church-going American to draw our attention to life at all stages, regardless of color, creed, sex, money or even nationality.

The Lousianans who stayed behind largely did because they couldn't afford not to. They were too poor to leave, so they decided to ride it out. The looting began because people were on the precipice of civilization. And while some understood the necessity before them and struggled to provide for their families, neighbors and selves (as in the pictures above, of both blacks and whites doing the same thing, with different judgements made of their actions), others descended on insipid lawlessness like the children from Lord of the Flies. Why? Because that's human nature. I'm not sure that the thin green line between civility and safety and chaos and flood waters is of much comfort and reassurance in the light of such utter sadness and darkness.

First Entry: Abridged Traveblogue

The longer versions can be read at my xanga site and this one, specifically here. But before I begin to bastardize my own travelogue, you know the site meter at the bottom of the page (if you can ever get that far)? It tells me some interesting and sometimes not so interesting facts about visitors to this blog. Now, you know, I love you all and I really want more people to come around, feel at home, feel comfortable, feel as part of a community. Everyone, everyone, is welcomed here. You know, Come as you are. I don't want to put on pretenses or leave people out. But I am who I am and I write about what interests me. And what interests me may not interest others... blah, blah, blah.

Anyway, I guess this kid figured that I might have something that would interest him. I thought it was interesting, I don't get too many international visitors, esp. from the other side of the world. But, apparently, I guess I don't have enough "girls, cheeks."

Well, it interested me. So there.

Gary wins the title of Stinkiest Region in the Union. Hands down.

[N]ortheast section of Indiana (not much to brag about here, folks.)

He invited me to a screening of the original Star Wars... Being the nerd that I am, I would've gone in a heart beat. Being as far away as I am...

I am, however, profanely angry.

Michigan... truly is a beautiful state to visit. And spend money in. So many beautiful, old trees. So vibrant in green-ness.

"Abide in me. I will leave. I will send my Spirit. You will remain in me by obeying me..." This is a good part of the Gospel of John's focus for this period. It all seems to work so beautifully, so elegantly, so earthly yet eternally.

[Like Flanders:] "I'm sorry Jesus, I'm sorry Jesus!"

Traveblogue intro

Like the Poltergeist, I'm back.

What a trip. Put some miles into the rental. Got in one minor, minor ummm... skirmish. Saw one of my brothers get married, etc., etc. I'm not going to bore you with all the details, now. I shall later though.

I kept a bit of a travelogue. Over the next few days, I'll transcribe it on to this site, and take some of the highlights (in or out of context) and post them here. But since I didn't bring my notes with me and since I'm tired and have to prepare myself for (and somewhat celebrate) my new job, I'll have to start tomorrow.

I'm the newest addition to the Roberto Clemente Achievement Academy, a school within a school that works with 6th, 7th, and 8th graders who are too old for elementary school but need to be mainstreamed into the high school. It's gonna be tough, don'tchaknow?

More on that later.

Pizza-out.

P.S., if you haven't read Don Miller yet, here's a good place to start, it's an excerpt from Blue Like Jazz.