12 posts from June 2007

Last night i went to Danbury CT to see my chiropractor, which was an hour n a half up and back. It was a nice run tho -- the weather has been beautiful here the last two days. Upon my return i found my wife whining about getting fed. It is strange that she seems unable to feed herself; if she hadn't married me i figure the poor woman woulda starved to death years ago.

I watched an old South Park ep last night when i got back, the one with sexual harassment panda, and laughed my ass off all over again.

Isn't politically correct gender and sexual identity laws fascist?
"No."
"Why?"
"Because we don't call it that..."

I love these guys, Stone and Parker, who are hated equally on both extremes of the Right and the Left -- anyone who says anything about the way things really are, even against ideology, will be hated as much as these guys are hated. Ever hear of Camille Paglia? She dared to state the obvious and questioned the assumptions and deeply held presuppositions of the homosexual community. She received what anyone risks who crosses any deeply held political ideology -- Left, Right, Secular or Religious -- that has power because a large group of people are invested in The Idea, a group of people unable to make sense of themselves or of the world around them without The Idea.

I eventually went to The Spoke to catch the Sox high lights and to drink a beer. Most of the gang was there, and the Sox won so everyone was in a good mood. They upped the price of PBR, which makes no sense. Who'd drink that shit if it wasn't cheap? Fifty cents more and i can get a Corona. Thank you God for Mexican beer.

I came home and The Wife was still asleep. I didn't sleep all that well, but i was up and at 'em by 8:30 AM. Work was a long reading session -- i'm almost done with Kennedy and i will be moving on toward Halberstrom's "The 50s." I'm getting some good stuff for the introduction of my book. I took in like $70 today, not even enough to pay my salary. But i could look out at the window and see what a beautiful day i was missing out on -- anyone in the library today lost a bet with God, pure and simple.

I have to be careful. As i advance into middle age i find myself becoming more judgmental and lacking in patience, in tolerance. It would be very easy for me to submerge myself with contempt for my customers, with these people who are so lacking a life, so that they were wanting a coffee on a summer's day, but that would mean being too hard, to proud. I don't know why they are there, and i shouldn't judge like that. Jesus said that blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God. Humility means that i don't put myself above other, think of myself an my opinions more than i oughtta. I've taken to carrying my prayer beads with me most everywhere, as i need to pray for Christ Jesus, Son of God, to have mercy on me, a sinner.

The Wife picked me up, and while we ate a bucket of KFC we watched "Serenity" on HBO, Joss Whedon's final flight of "Firefly." Damn, the man can write and direct -- sometimes i forget that until his dialogue catches me right between the eyes or thru the heart. I decided to blog while watching an old favorite, "Ghost Dog," and then i'm gonna hit the Spoke again as The Wife has a prior commitment and what the hell, i never like staying in this apartment on my own.

Next couple of days i have off, which is nice. I have the 4Th of July off as well, so i'm taking a personal day on Tuesday. Hopefully by then i will be able to take my powerbook in for a wireless card and maybe even get some more memory, turn this laptop into an actual computer.

More later tonight, perhaps...

 

Today was a strange day.

I got up this morning and met with my friend Nate. I have almost nothing in common with Nate except that we are both Christian, married, and he is on staff at a church like i used to be. He is smart, brash, and understands a lot about life. He's reading some great books series, so i decided to join in and read with him and meet on thursdays each week to talk about what we are reading, which for a while is John Milton's "Paradise Lost." He is on book seven, am am in the middle of book one. It is tough to get into another book as i'm in the middle of "Freedom From Fear: The American People in Depression and War, 1929-1945" by a guy named Kennedy. Great book, but its like 900 pages long. I'm about to page 600 -- strange things are afoot on Guadalcanal.

Work is always a surreal experience. Yesterday was about the most miserable day i've experienced in New England, unfit for man or beast. Today was better, as i had to work outside for a bit, but i still have to put up with the strangeness of my co-workers and management regardless of the weather. Someday i will write a book and no one will believe because there are this many eccentric, odd characters inhabiting one work place. Sigh.

I brought in my used computer to a couple of Apple reps and they were able to change the name to my name on the OS software! Yay! I finally feel like the thing is mine, although i still have to get a wireless care, a gig of memory, and a new battery. The Wife and i are still feeling the financial pinch from Bonnaroo. But i get paid tomorrow and so does The Wife, and the dough from the furball sitting gig should be coming in this weekend. It will be nice to be able to pay some bills.

I got home, fixed some food, and wanted to go to a movie, but the wife said she wasn't feeling good. This did not stop her, however, from meeting a friend at the nearby BoBo coffee place tonight. So i'm heading for the Spoke to catch up on the scores, then its bedtime for Bonzo.

I've been thinking about some basic Christianity stuff lately, about conversion, regeneration, and walking in the Spirit. I have vented about the suspision i have had that only about 25% of the people i ministered too while i was a minister with the Assembly of God was actually converted, that many may have had a religious experience, but they had not changed their minds about anything, they had not experienced the transformitive power of the Holy Spirit. Many people who call themselves Christians wouldn't know the Fruit of the Spirit if they came up and bit 'em in the ass, instead, people use spirituality or religion as just another technique to manipulate their circumstances and the people in them.

When i was a minister, statistics showed that those inside the church were actually ahead of the curve of disturbing trends that every Christian i knew was moaning about as the fall of western civilization. The divorce rate was the same, abortion rate was higher, and everyone was angling for the American Dream of upper-middle-class security. My youth group, if stats held, watched way more MTV and R rated movies than their peers, and had just as much pre-marital sex. My singles group shacked up without the benifit of marriage as often as the population at large.

Sometimes i feel like a freak. It isn't because i'm so much holier or righteous than anyone else. I'm more honest with myself than that. I feel like a freak because i waited until my wedding night to get laid; i feel like a freak because i didn't get a divorce from my wife even though i had overwhelming Biblical grounds to do so; i feel like a freak because i had many opportunities to sleep around during that time and didn't -- my wife is still the only person i've ever had intercourse with. I'm as horny as the next guy, i have as bad a temper, and maybe worse, as anyone else. My innate desire for revenge when i'm wronged is a finely tuned thing. I am not some Catholic Saint or Ghandi wannabe. I beleive i've been able to walk the line because of God's grace to just another fuckup and because the Holy Spirit really did effect a change in me. If that happened in someone like me, shouldn't i see it a little more often in others who claim to follow Christ?

All i know is this: Christianity through the ages has been distinguish because of ordinary people lead extraordinary lives. People stayed behind in plagues to minister to the dying which sealed their own fates. They picked up baby girls  abandoned to die of exposure from Roman times to modern times. It was their morality that was alive within them that brought attention to what they believed, not their adherance to a set of written rules, a check list to prove a smug self-righteousness. For some odd reason God has seen fit to save me from myself, and grant me a strange witness that makes me feel like a freak, even in the Christian community -- hell, within my own immediate family! When i was 18, i thought i had this all figured out. I'm 43, and now i understand that i know almost nothing. Read Galatians chapters 5 & 6, and then ask yourself whats up on this strange Thursday night...

So this is the last Bonnaroo posting. Sorry it took me so long, it has been a very strange week. The headline event this year was, of course, the re reunion tour of "The Police" with all three of the original band members. It is a pretty hot ticket no matter where they will be playing, and The Wife was very determined to see the show.

I have to give her some cred, as she understands music and popular culture probably better than i do. Here tastes run towards the 80s new wave and punk, unlike my own tastes. Yet i can understand "The Police" as an important band in the history of Rock, and i even understand that their influence on other bands is probably more important than their place in the history of music. For the short time they were together as a band, they had an astonishing number of hit songs, and songs that were actually intelligently written (if you could get past Sting's arrogance, which has always been my problem).

I will also admit that they were ready to play their concert: they were tight and sounded very, very good. As a matter of fact, i had caught them about a month earlier on VH1 playing a concert in 1980, or 1981, and they were just awful in that footage and made me a little hesitant about their gig in Bonnaroo. My fears were groundless, as they played all their hits and then some i didn't recognize. They sounded great, very professional, and The Wife and i got our grooves on and danced the night away.

However. They didn't play the whole time period they were allotted, by about 45 min., and let us just say that there was NO chemistry between these guys. And i mean NONE. They made a good show of putting up a front of mutual acknowledgment, but it was very clear that they were getting along because not only was this tour the hottest ticket of the Summer concert festival circut, but may well be, according to Entertainment Weekly, on of the most lucrative period. We're talking serious money here folks.

I couldn't help but remember a quote from a book i'd read earlier in the year written by John Strausbaugh, "Rock Till You Drop: The Decline from Rebellion to Nostalgia." The thesis was this

Rock is youth music. It is best played by young people, for young people, in a setting that is specifically exclusionary of their parents or anyone their parent's age. It is the music of youthful energy, youthful rebellion, youthful anxieties and anger...

Basically what i felt uneasy about at the concert, although it will be a treasured memory of time with The Wife, was the fact that these guys were in their 50s and they didn't address in any way contemporary culture, their music was not new, exciting, or innovative, and altho i was jealous of just how youthful Sting looked when he took off his shirt for the last quarter of the concert, i could only think to myself that my God, this is a grandfather prancing around half naked up there and all i could do was kinda wince. I actually felt a sharp stab of pity for the old guy. Strausbaugh also writes, specifically about The Rolling Stones, but it could have been about this reunion tour,

The larger point to be made here at the outset is that by the 1990s, the Stone's brand of colostomy rock had become not an isolated freak show but a regular -- and popular -- feature of the summer concert season. Every year, ancient rock bands rise up from their graves and rule the night again. Lynyrd Skynyrd, Jethro Tull, Yes, The Allman Brothers: pale ghosts of their once youthful selves, they have become their own nostalgia merchandise. There can be only one motivation: as the Rutles declared, All You Need Is Cash.

I think the guy has a point myself...

The other pics i have are of the Fountains of Wayne concert. They aren't Rock, although they come close, but are Pop in an almost pure form. I had a blast and loved their topical music and great hooks. They were playing in support of a newly released album, and i thouroughly enjoyed myself. I got a great location in the middle of the tent toward the front, and have some decent pics. My only complaint was that they were the most jaded and cynical band i've ever watched live, and their satire and commentary did not come from any warm of humane place. They also had no chemistry between them. When i commented on this, a guy next to me looked at me like i was simple and, speaking as one might speak to an elentary school student, explained that this was typical for a LA band... I especially like the pic with the beach ball of death in the frame: someone must have put some sand in that puppy, because i saw a couple of people get beaned and drop like a stone.

I have to admit that Rock n roll was not the reason i went to Bonnaroo. This was my whole and entire reason for going: I cannot tell you just how in love i am with my wife -- i wanted to see if i could put her enjoyment, comfort, and desires ahead of my own for this festival, and in attempting to do this i was the happiest i've been for a long, long time.

I guess i'll be blogging about Bonnaroo tomorrow. My sister called and let me know that my uncle, the ex-army ranger that survived Omaha Beach, France, and Germany, has exactly the same kind of cancer that my Mom died of a few years back. The irony is this: My Mom died, in her early 60s, of a kind of cancer that only older men in the seventies generally die of, and my uncle is 84 years old. I remember the day my Dad, my brother and i had to tell Mom that instead of her terminal cancer going into remission so she could survive till Christmas, it had actually accelerated and she only had a few weeks left and today i felt the same emotions as my sister informed me of my uncle's condition.

My Mom's side of the family isn't doing very well. Besides dying of cancer, they seem to prefer to die alone of cancer. I really don't know my uncle all that well, which is not surprising as i didn't even know my own Mom all that well. They were a closed mouth, introverted bunch, impossible to relate too in any way that might give you confidence that you might actually know them well at all. The only exception is my cousin on my Mom's side, and -- surprise -- she has terminal cancer as well. I hold them all (except my cousin, she's in her 50s) in awe because they suffered more than the average generation. They survived the Depression, WW II, and they knew the concept of loss like i know my best friend. They faced things that many could not cope with, and they survived as a family -- stone cold poor, but as a family. Perhaps it was this that caused such difference. I know that after i went thru some severe medical afflictions in Jr. High and High School, that i was forever different than the rest of my class mates who never faced what i did, perhaps it is the same with my Mom's people.

I've blogged on this before, so i won't plow over the same field here. All i know is that i have only inherited some of my Mom's personality; i am a fairly balanced representation of both my parents, with a unique twist that is mine alone. I doubt very much that i am very well known to my immediate family, altho this is not my choice. I have the same dry sense of humor, the same silent internal discernment, the same detached personality that makes me a great reader and a ready observer. I literally pray to God, however, that when it comes my time to die that my family, my wife, won't remember me as a seemingly joyless and isolated figure that they/she really never got to know past surface actions and thoughts.

The Wife and i returned from Bonnaroo this morning around 8:00 AM after 21 straight hours in the car. Our landlady was painting the porch, our only entry point to our appointment; she thought we were coming back tomorrow... The Wife, always a picture of calm and rationality, reacted better than i thought she would. We eventually go in, and slept most of the day away. I had to get up and walk and feed the furballs, then i came home and downloaded the pics i took at Bonneroo, which was a lot of fun. However, i am so tired that i think i need a vacation to recover from my vacation.

The highlight of my Bonnaroo experience was Gillian Welsh. Damn, she may be the coolest musician walking the earth today. She is the antithesis of what is wrong with most music today, as she is the lead singer/songwriter, plays several different instruments, and is authentically attached to the music she sings. I really enjoyed her show, especially her older stuff, off "Hell Among the Yearlings" and "Revelator."

I also was fortunate enough to catch Dr. Ralph Stanley and the Clinch Mountain Boys. He is a very old man now, but he put on quite a show as he emceed, played the banjo, and sang. I wanted to be able to say i saw Stanley live, and i saw a special show indeed. It was a little strange, watching these guys dressed as entertainers from the late 40s and 50s come out to play for a seriously hippie crowd. There was more than space separating them from the crowd at the front of the stage. Here are these seriously conservative people that probably hold the polar opposite political views as 90% of the audience and its the music that connects them. There was not only respect for the man, there was an honest to goodness love that was poured out for this guy by that crowd -- the crowd demanded two encores, and you could see the pride in his son's and grandson's eyes, both of whom was playing with the band. The Grandson was only 14 years old, and could play the hell outta his instrument...

What was also a very good but under appreciated show was T-Bone Burnett. I enjoyed his show mostly because it was soooooo obvious that he was a producer before he was a performer... He was far too cool for school, but i loved the sound and i loved the lyrics. He brought a bit of Cali cool to the Tennessee heat. He may be one of the greatest producers ever, and you could tell he understood the different genres of music, although his was a kind of Dylanesque kinda Rock and Roll. I thought it interesting that a Christian in this industry would take a kind of prophetic voice, but he does it well.

                                                The other act i thought was extraordinary was "The White Stripes." Damn, could the man play the electric guitar. Its about time someone besides jimmy hendrix put a rock guitar spin on delta blues. However, these two are more than a little strange, you could kind of catch the vibe from their show. It was a weird vibe anyway, as the dust was hanging heavy at sunset Sunday night.

 Personally I had a lot of fun, although i don't have a lot of stories to give out. I really felt my age, and felt the double-edged sword of being what you believe. I don't smoke Jane, or do LSD or shrooms or get drunk off my ass just because those things may break somebody's list of rules. There is a bond between people into the same stuff, one that i could not participate in at the festival. It is the same every weekend at the Spoke. I choose to be apart because of who i am, because of Whose i am. I do not do these things because i have a uniquely Christian view of freedom. Freedom is not the absence of any type of boundary, or the shattering of anything that may constrict or restrict my behavior; freedom for me is actually the ability to choose what boundaries and rules i will bind myself too. Goodness, gentleness, kindness, and joy prescribe my usage of what everyone else was imbibing over the weekend.

This is not to say i didn't notice all the young lovelies all around.

Like i said, it was a fun time. I have a lot more photographs, and tomorrow i hope i can bring some kind of analysis to the old blog. But as for now, I'm back as i recover from my vacation.

So the Wife brought her computer to Tennessee so i thought what the hell, let's blog.

Yesterday was the road trip from hell. Or to hell. Whichever. We wanted to get rolling at 6 AM, we ended up leaving around 11 AM. We had to stop and get stuff, and my legs are not really travel friendly any more. As a young guy, i'd hop in the car and drive for hours and hours on a whim, listening to music, thinking, with the window rolled down so i could smell the region i was traveling thru. The spirit is still willing, but the flesh... We were in our rice burning rustbucket for almost 20 hours, and i am opperating on about 4 hours sleep.

Bonneroo wants you to stick around, so we have to camp overnight and can't really leave the campground till Friday night late. I bought a tent for way more than i should have paid, and we have sleeping bags. It should be interesting, The Wife's idea of hardship is doing what we are doing now: getting a cheap hotel room. I like cheap hotel rooms because very moral things can happen in them when your on a trip with your wife. Woo Hoo!

I received news from my sister today that a dearly loved cousin has been diagnosed with cancer again, this time in the liver. My cousin and my mother had been close and my cousin was devastated when my mom died of cancer. My Mom's family, with only a few notable exceptions, seems to have lost some kind of bet with God; either that or the good truly do die young. It made me very sad to hear this news, as i have always liked this woman and her husband. My prayers are very much with them and my sister.

Nothin much happening, the good stuff starts tomorrow. But there are still some concerts i am interested in hearing tonight, so i will fill everyone in tomorrow or Saturday. On a side note: i forgot my Book of Common Prayer, but i did remember to bring my Anglican prayer beads...

So i watched the last ep of "The Sopranos" last night and was a tad discombobulated -- as was much of the viewing public as the next day reactions came flooding in thru the media. It was a bit odd -- to build suspense like that in the last scene, copying almost exactly a scene from "The Godfather," where a hit man killed a mob family in a restaurant after he went to the bathroom to lock and load. It made it seem like everyone except Meadow was gonna get hit. Then, nothing. A very strange ending.

But not an unsatisfactory one. Sometimes the best revenge someone has, and the worst thing God can do to a person, is to give them over to whatever it is that they desire. Really, sometimes you're just better off dead, you know? AJ is a waste of space, so shallow and such a narcissist; Carm is compromised beyond redemption (i notice she doesn't go to Catholic services anymore) and has come to terms about just how she has such a material comfortable life; Tony is a friendless, depressed/bipolar mess and, altho not a sociopath (as Melfi thinks), is spiritually maimed beyond therapy -- there was a reason why Tony didn't see the ducks again; and Meadow was inspired to pursue a career in law because she thought the FBI mistreated Italians by how they treated her Dad, the fornicator, the adulterer, the murderer, and worse. Everything their lives are based upon is not what they think they are, everything has been corrupted and turned into the opposite of what they are supposed to be for the characters. The only thing that could be said for any of them is at least their kids will not be openly what their father and mother are, AJ won't be Tony and a Capo for the mob, and Meadow won't be Carm and married to a killer.

I honestly think that the worst, most terrifying words in Christian Scripture, besides Jesus saying on Judgment Day, "Depart from me, I never knew you," is Paul writing in the first chapter of Romans where he chronicles mankind's rebellion against God and remarks several time God's judgment: "He gave them over to _________." As anyone born of a woman launched themselves into free fall into the abyss, He just let them jump headfirst, deaf, dumb and blind.  The Seven Deadly sins are so named for a reason, instead of, say, the Slightly Harmful sins. Pride, the belief that man is the measure of all things, has killed us all, spiritually at first and then, eventually, physically. No one gets outta here alive. God indeed say that if the apple was eaten that the wages of disobedience would be death, the serpent was lying. Isn't Tony's and Carm's lives a kind of living death, where they have almost everything they want and yet it is all ashes in their mouths? Instead of the Journey Tony put on the juke box, it should have been the Stones singing "Satisfaction."

People are completely unable to find God on their own. When i was a youth minister, the buzz word was "relevant." It was though if you could use popular culture to get people to start questioning the status quo, that they would perhaps to begin to consider God. I have since learned that, a) people are looking for the God who is there like a crook on the run is looking for a cop, and, b) most people can not ask the right questions because they don't even know there is an answer.

I think God Himself has to give life to where there was only spiritual death. It is our job to live out the life God has given us and to proclaim Christ who gave us this life because only God knows the people He has chosen, as far as we are concerned we preach whosoever will, come. This is Reformed theology (more than slightly modified), of course, but it is the only thing that explains how when i preached an identical message to two kids in exactly the same places in their lives sitting next to each other in service that one's ears perked up and the other on fell asleep...

Oh well, just a ramble. In two days The Wife and i take off for Tennessee for Bonneroo Music Festival. I think it'll be fun, but i have to admit a thrill of forboding stirring in my chest. Ever get the sense that one shoe has dropped, and your just waiting for the other one? Yup, exactly. I have no idea why i have this feeling except that we are finacially stretched to the limit and are about to travel almost 40 hours in a rustbucket rice burner with a 170k on the odometer. But if ya just lived safe, wouldn't everything get boring?

I did three out of four Offices today, and it was good to read the Scripture in the midst of my day. A personal transformation thru the renewing of my mind... it felt good. I'm bringing my digital camera with me, and i will try to figure out how to post pics from my computer on this vox here. Ask Chris just how monumentally ignorant i am of technology and computers! If i don't Blog tomorrow, it won't be till next Tuesday that i will reappear, so hopefully i will be gone a short time without being forgotten.

I am really looking forward to tonight's last "Sorprano's" episode. What i have loved since the very first time i watched the very first episode is Chases commitment not to glamorize these thugs. They are brutal and violent people, and Chase has taken great pains not to soften the edge of these people's personalities. That is why i was so surprised about some fan's reactions to the episodes immediately before tonight's episode. I was reading in Friday's USA Today that the last couple of episodes, which saw the demise of several long term characters, were upsetting to some viewers as they had come to see these characters a beloved.

BELOVED!!!!??????

I am continually in awe of the extent of humanity's falleness and their failure to understand evil when its right under their noses. These people, these characters in "The Sorpranos," were not meant to be loved, they are examples of the damage that is inflicted, not only on themselves but on others, when one gives one's self over to the Seven Deadly Sins. It was the same with "Seinfeld's" last episode. Jerry purposely made his characters to be the moral pygmies that New Yorkers are familiar with, the people that represent the banality of of evil in an urban setting -- the petty, the selfish, people who cut in lines and steal taxis away from old men and steal bread from old ladies and who look out only for themselves. These people should have ended up in jail; the last episode was a masterstroke.

I am excited about watching tonight's "Sopranos" because, like the Psalmist often said, the evil dig a pit for the innocent and then fall into the pit they themselves have dug. I wanna watch these people get what they have coming to them because i love the irony. I especially want to see Paulie Walnuts get whacked... There are very few characters in the history of TV as vile as that SOB. There is something satisfying seeing justice done, even if it is fictional.I hope Tony's demise is as satisfying as well.. what a shit and waste of space. My first impression of Tony was that this guy was breathing air that actual people might be about to use. I NEVER saw him as some noble, trapped, hero that was just misunderstood.

After the episode, tho, i know that i will have a lingering feeling of unease at how deeply satisfied i will feel about justice being served to the "Sorpranos." This subject, that of justice and grace, has often been, for me, a source of tension in being a Believer and being in the world but not of it, Although it is satisfying to see justice done, i am very aware of the scandal of grace that is notorious of Christianity. It is exactly where sin abounds most darkly that grace shines all the more brightly. It is also exactly these types of characters that Jesus made the heroes of his parables: whores, liars, cheats, thieves, slacker younger sons and extortion artists pretending to be tax collectors. The villians of his little illustrations were "righteous" people: the priests, Pharisees, the rich, and those who were secure in their own smug knowledge of their innate goodness and moral superiority.

How strange will whatever heaven turns out to be in that those who rightly and justly had justice served while all the while they begged God's mercy and received it? It is reported that a couple of notable serial killers converted to Christianity, one just before his execution, the other before being killed by a fellow prisoner. And our Church building are full of people who, as in the case of the judge who sentenced Paris Hilton and received a standing ovation when he attended worship the Sunday morning after -- i wonder what's gonna happen to them, those so happy and satisfied that justice was served?

I like the fact that God will balance the scales of justice, either thru cause and effect in this lifetime, or that failing, in the time of Judgment after time is ended. I hate Buddhism with a passion because they try to reduce life, and therefore suffering, into some kind of unreal illusion. I think stuff, really henious shit, like a Nazi slaughter of Jews in some small forgotten village in Ukraine or Russia ("Everything is Illuminated"),should be answered for, and i think i am lucky in that it is God who orchestrates justice and vengance. It isn't some kind of dream that means nothing... that didn't really exist. I hate Rationalism for the same reason, because if everything really is meaningless, arbitrary and random, then nothing means anything. I love Christianity because of this strange and counter intuitive grace and in that at the same time justice will eventually be served and all accounts settled. My satisfaction is tempered by the fact that i wasn't any better than Tony or Paulie and God gave me grace. I shoulda been whacked as well, but God loved me before i knew Him and decided to have mercy on my idiot ass.

For as long as i can remember, my life has usually been overly influenced by people with a very controlling personality and unreasonable expectations for intimacy; i call these people black hole suns. Words can express the pain and frustration of these relationships, but everyone knows a black hole sun, so what's the point of going into detail? What i can rant about is the damage done that has produced within myself the "needs" for acceptance and affirmation that have very rarely ever been noticed, let alone been addressed.

I believe that i have developed the kind of self talk that goes on inside my head for this very reason. On the outside, with what would actually come out of my mouth or be seen as actions were more in line for others, especially for my Mom or Pastor or Coach or the clique with power in school. Nothing contradictory could be said, and no actions that contradicted expectations were allowed if i was to be accepted and protected from censure by these very important people in my life. Ahh, but on the inside! Ever hear the story about the kid a Mother made sit down against his will, and the kid turned to her and said, "I'm still standing up on the inside?" Yep, that was/is me. As you can see, my passive/aggressive behavior was formed intuitively by my temperament way before it became a deliberate strategy to cope or navigate my path thru this life.

I am still extremely sensitive about this. How long have i had to talk a certain way, or act a certain way, to find acceptance and affirmation from others? Look, let's just say that i was no born rebel, which is ironic because most people who have known me think i am this extreme non-conformist, someone who rebels just to rebel. This is not the case. They judge me and label me because i refuse now to edit my speech or conform my behavior merely to be accepted by the majority. This usual puts me in a category by myself, as this usually bewilders the minority as well, and as they are mostly trying to get into the good graces of the majority, i am usually a party of one.

What changed? I am not afraid of being alone, because i now know i can never ever be lonely -- God is with me, in in the valley of death and desolation. But i can be alone, and it is a price paid in order to abdicate the lead position in some black hole sun's parade of misery. I finally came to this conclusion in my early thirties in Wichita KS after my pastor there made me go to a seminar taught by Leanne Payne.If you don't know who this remarkable woman is its OK, as not very many people would have heard of her. But she taught me more about walking in the Spirit than my parents, all the Pastors with whom i worked with in 12 years of ministry, or any of my friends.

She taught me how to look up to God for my needs and then out of myself and in service of other people, how to destroy introspection, how to live from the newness of a regenerated creation, the center of a new man instead of from the center of what was dead and passed away, the old me who lived only for self. Strangely, the best example of this is in JK Rowling's character of Dumbledore in her very successful "Harry Potter" books. He is unfailing in expressing himself as loving, joyful, peaceful, good, kind, gentle, faithful, self-controlled, and patient. Yet he is no one's door mat, he is unafraid of expressing himself firmly in love and care for the person he has to set himself against because he has to in keeping his integrity.

I have to admit that i am mostly not like this, but i see flashes of it enough to encourage me that the Holy Spirit does indeed indwell yours truly, to have some type of hope that as an old man i might actually be like this all the time. It is days like this, black hole sun kinda days, which is the crucible for learning how to do this right -- to discipline myself to be loving yet firm, fixed yet flexible. I always have to be on defense against pride, the foundational sin for every selfish act. That is why i need to quiet the beasts, those thirsty needs affirmation and acceptance, and not let my pride twist them into something opposite, i.e., a need to be flattered or a need to conform to anything, accepting anything in anyone just to be liked in return.

Its hard, tho. This is why i went to the Spoke. Everything is negotiable with broken people. They are some of the most non judgmental people in the world simply because they cannot afford to look into the mirror, and they have a short temper when it comes to hypocrisy. But it isn't from moral high ground -- they are like this because the first thing to be accepted and affirmed in that community is to live and let live, to turn a blind eye to their weakness so they will return the favor. But that isn't love, or friendship, because neither would let these glaring and deadly character flaws slip if one truly cared for another person. That kind of affirmation and acceptance is actually compromise, and deadly to the soul...

I am accepted and affirmed -- by God and, if i must have it physically, from the Christian community that i am part of. Even when i have to endure black hole sun kinda days.

It has been slow at work, which is bad as i get time to think. This is not a good thing, as my mind is very undisciplined and tends to think mostly on tangents.

I was thinking today about expectations and why people have them. Working in retail sucks, because before i did i had an idealistic fondness for People and for individual people. I may not be an extrovert, but i am not anti social by any means. After almost seven years in food service, it is safe to say that i loathe People, the abstract capital P People. It is not some sly, hidden contempt... Oh no. It is vivid and probably, if someone was on my wavelength, completely obvious. I still tend to like individual people, i think i could probably, outside of work, get along with almost anyone.

I hate People because of their blind, deaf, and dumb imperative to satisfy their basic needs by any means necessary. Watching people decide what they want and then ordering what they want is like working at Capistrano and watching the Lemmings leap into the sea, or like watching an irresistible tide eroding a coastline. It has occurred to me that this consumerism and self-interest is very much tied into the expectations my fellow Americans seem to have imprinted on their subconscious.

People are wired into believing that they can control their circumstances, and the people in those environs, in order to have their inner most needs, legit human needs like love, security,respect, friendship, food, water and shelter. They expect to have these needs met because as Americans we have figured out how to control so much, or at least we have the illusion of control. And because human being are flawed with an inbred will to power, they will see no restraints in getting these needs "managed," they will reject no strategy regardless of any morality, norms, or mores that would seem to be obstacles. As a matter of fact, people without a moments's hesitation will label their wants as needs, twisting what are legit needs into travesties of themselves, i.e., love turns into lust very easily, security to aggression and control. The ways in which people try to manipulate the situation and others around them are as varied as there are people, and range from blunt and obvious to subtle and clever.

A very good friend of mine, a supervisor, will walk into work and purposely push every button he can find to push with as many people as he can during their shift. By noon, the entire work place will be seething. Yet he will have had a good day, as everyone is busy obsessing and reacting to his provocations that he was able to establish the agenda and then control the situation. I am convinced that half the time, he is not even aware he is doing it. He doesn't put this shit with me anymore because after i figured this out, i figured the way to turn the tables on him everytime he tried to push my buttons.

My youngest brother and i have a great way to manipulate the people around us: sympathy. We can get almost anyone to take pity on us and help us out. Most of the time we don't even know that we are doing it, it is so second nature to our temperaments. The Bible warns that the human heart is so desperately wicked that no one can really know it, and to that i say "amen." My point is that there isn't anyone who hasn't developed something like this unique to their personalities and experience, and no one, not myself or anyone else, has the moral high ground.

This is why i am very glad that i have began to do my Offices again, and why i am very faithful to hear the Sunday morning sermon. I need the Law and the Gospel to be external of me, to have them preached at me from another source outside my own understanding. I need someone outside of myself to take me by the scruff of the neck and say that i have missed the mark, sinned, and have not lived up to God's expectations. I need someone else to tell me that although i don't deserve it, God is going to give me unmerited favor by not giving me what my actions deserve on any given day -- in short that because of Christ, and not because i am so cool or clever, God will give me grace and mercy and will forgive my sorry ass. I can justify my own actions too easily, too completely to trust that just me thinking and journaling is enough to transform me by the renewing of my mind.

When i say that i am tired of both, individual people and People, i am actually saying that i am tired of myself, and am not very proud of my lack of faith. It is God who will provide for my every need, whether material or not, and He loves me like a son, and will provide for me like a son. It is my responsibility to look up to God in prayer and worship, to look outside myself to forgive and serve others who have the same flaw i struggle with, and to love them despite themselves and myself. God will provide for us all.

What are my expectations? I guess that i shouldn't have any, except for the one that God will supply me with everything i need according to His riches in glory. Is part of the definition of life, and that more abundantly, to live without expectation of anyone except my heavenly Father? If so, is it even possible to imagine a life without expectations?