Commence Wailing

I've been listening to a lot of emo lately.  Not the acoustic guitar and whiny vocals variety, no.  More the big rock guitars, good beats, and whiny vocals variety.  I'm kinda surprised at myself.

See, when I first heard Fall Out Boy's "Sugar, We're Going Down," I realized that there was a new movement in music that I hated.  I hated it before it was a genre.  You could hear it coming in "Warning" by Incubus, for example.  The wailing vocal parts, sometimes atypical rhythms, lack of rhyme, things like that.  Eventually there were more and more songs with these long run-on sentences for titles, and all these clever lyrics.  When you're trying to be clever, it's really hard not to be annoying.

The first crack in my annoyance came when I saw the video for Fall Out Boy's "This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race."  Again, long song name and lyrics that were clever to the point of being pushy... but the beat!  The song gets a good sort of Michael Jackson vibe going, then breaks into a fast pop-punk chorus, and it all works together.

Then, I played Prey.  Very well done, very innovative video game.  Beat the final boss, watched the denouement, and the credits begin to roll.  Over the credits plays "Take Me Home" by After Midnight Project, and I realize with a shock that it's definitely an emo song, and I definitely don't hate it.  The beat is steady and insistent, the guitar work skillful, the vocals emotive.  Then the chorus hits, and everything soars.

The thing about emo is that there's a much greater variety within the genre than I originally thought.  Songs like "Coffee's for Closers" by Fall Out Boy and "Welcome to the Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance are impressive for the sheer number of disparate elements coming together to make a good song.  Sometimes the depressing / bitter lyrics are coming at you in a major key.  Sometimes there are techno elements, sometimes horns.

I've found a lot of stuff I like through Pandora.  If you're curious, you can find other songs I like on this station.

Pathos

A titan, curled in on himself.

A giant, eyes clenched tight.

In the corner of his dripping eye, the stars.

Were he to stand, could he reach them?

Could he have them?

Knees drawn, face to earth, he whimpers.

"A thousand million choices,

all wrong."

And so the lights remain distant as dreams,

the earth no brighter.

(not a very good poem, I don't think, but an illustration nonetheless of somewhere i've been off and on for a while.  feeling much better now, having talked to and prayed with my pastor.  i recommend it.)

Downturn

I think there may be a bit if a backhanded upside to our current economic situation.

The whole mortgage crisis and the credit crunch are awfully complex. People talk of good debt turned bad, of banks that aren't intetested in foreclosing on homes, of spending billions of taxpayer dollars to help failing businesses. Who knew who Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were before all this started? And who among them knew they were government agencies?

A lot of the problems apparently came from very sophisticated financial commodities. Some problems were more simple: people weren't able to pay their debt. A story on National Public Radio noted that the current total indebtedness of the American people is now at the level of the Gross National Product. The only other recorded time that happened? Just before the Great Depression.

My hope is that this crisis will get our attention. We've gotten awfully comfortable with debt as a culture, with myself as an example. I, for one, intend to maintain relative financial simplicity. To start living more strictly within my means, even if that means - gasp - lowering my standard of living a little.

Some of you think that's a really obvious choice. I think it's an oddly foreign concept to my generation. Maybe this is our chance to get our priorities straight.

Keyed Up

Ack! Missed a post. I'll double up today. Storytime.

Yesterday, I found myself getting very nervous, quite stressed out.  There was something on my mind that would have made me anxious anyway, but in the process of trying to calm myself down, I realized something.

Thus far that day, I'd consumed a large cup of coffee and two sugary pastries.  I'd been listening to punk rock - highly aggressive, noisy, intense music - for around four hours straight.  And I was sitting in front of my computer the whole time, typing, with my shoulders bunched up from my elbows resting on the chair's arms, craning my neck at the papers on my desk, then staring at my glaring backlit monitor.

Whether or not my issue du jour was worth worrying about, my environment was of no help.

So I had lunch with a friend, outside in the sunshine.  Very helpful.  Funny enough, during the course of the conversation, I chuckled, gave her a reassuring little scratch on the back, and told her, "my dear, you gotta learn to relax."

Sloth: Not the Mammal

My entry tonight is just my notes from tonight's Bible study. Ashley's
lesson could have been written specifically for me.

2 Thess 3:6-13
-do not grow weary of doing good.

Idleness. Aimlessness. (sloth.)
-is not Christlike.
-is appealing, and influential to others.
-1 thess 5:14 - admonish the idle
-doesn't mix with initiative.
-God isn't into gray areas.
-is unfruitful by nature.
-drains away integrity.
-is not defeated merely by intent, but by action.
-is hypocritical.
-Take up your cross and follow me.
-drains resources and contributes nothing.
-hinders God's work.
-neuters our calling.

Am I occupied with God's purpose?
What do I have to show for my work?
What's coming out of my mouth? (aha.)
-Defensive? Judgmental? Gossip?

"There's no unemployment for spirituality." -Shane

Gal. 6:9 - at the proper time, we will reap a harvest if we do not
give up.

Apply Directly to Your Brrrrraaaaaiiiiinnns

The ironic thing is, Nazi Zombies is just the prize you get for beating Call of Duty: World at War, and it's arguably more engrossing than the main game. Below is an audio clip of Cody and Drake playing.

I'm just impressed with myself for getting the mp3 player to work on this site. This whole audio blog thing is an experiment. If it's not completely annoying, I may do more such posts in the future. Click the play button below to enjoy!

The Scatterer

18 "Hear then the parable of the sower: 19 When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what has been sown in his heart. This is what was sown along the path. 20 As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy, 21 yet he has no root in himself, but endures for a while, and when tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately he falls away. 22 As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. 23 As for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it. He indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty." 

-Matthew 13:18-23 (ESV)

Above is Jesus' explanation of a the Parable of the Sower, a story he uses to describe how people respond to his teaching.  In most preaching I've heard on this section of the Bible, the emphasis has been on the different types of soil as different types of people that hear the Christian message.  A common observation is that the sower scatters the seed regardless of the quality of the soil, and we should do likewise, rather than attempting to pre-judge what someone's reaction will be.

That's a valuable point.  When I read this parable tonight, though, I saw another possible interpretation.  It's a new thought to me, but I can't imagine it's a new thought.

Let's shift the focus to the sower, the one scattering the seed.  What is he doing throwing seed on the walking path, or among rocks, or in patches of thorns?  That's sloppy farming.  Ideally, he should get all the seed into fertile soil.

Now, Jesus says the seed on the path symbolizes someone hearing the Word, but not understanding it.  Consider this: ever feel lost when someone tries to explain their religion?  Ever get utterly confused by Christianese words that obviously mean something to the person saying them, but not to you?

I'm wondering if this parable could be not just a reminder to scatter seed, but a guide on how to do it well.

If Christians don't preach in terms that people can understand, it's like throwing good seed on the walking path: ineffective.  If we lead people to become Christians, but don't aid them in deepening their faith afterwards, their faith will be in danger when life gets tough.  If we don't encourage new converts to really follow Jesus' teaching in day-to-day life, they'll be just as distracted and distraught by unhealthy desires as they were before they were Christians, if not more so.

Could be.

Overcome

There are a few stories in the Bible I can hardly finish telling without choking up.

Jesus took two of his disciples, two of his closest friends, up on a mountaintop with him.  There, the Bible says that as they watch, Jesus illuminates, literally glowing, and two long-dead prophets appear to speak with him.  Completely awestruck and terrified, words fail.  The men are surrounded by a cloud, from which the voice of God the Father boom.  Then, silence.  They look around.  Just Jesus.  In my mind, this is where Jesus grins and starts walking nonchalantly down the hill, then looks over his shoulder at them and says, "Well?  You coming?"

Here's the part of the story where I have trouble talking.

They get to the bottom of the hill, and they hear arguing.  There's a man there, with his son.  The religious leaders and Jesus' followers are shouting back and forth, but when they see Jesus, they come running.  It turns out the man brought his son to Jesus' disciples to be healed of his seizures.  The disciples tried, and failed.  As Jesus watches, the boy falls to the ground, convulsing violently.  In the midst of all the turmoil, with the crowd looking on, the father says, "If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us."

"If?" Jesus says.  He tells him, "Everything is possible for him who believes."

Here is the father's response, as recorded in Mark 9:24:

Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"

That's me.  I know that place.

If you've ever had your trust betrayed, you know.  If you've ever been wearied by disappointment, you know.  If you've been reduced to hope without expectation, you know what he meant.  If you've been given every reason to doubt, you understand.

So, what does Jesus do with this man?  With this broken, hopeless, desperate man?

He grants both his requests.

I pray we never stop at doubt.

Plot Twists

These days, I consistently feel a little shock of panic when I see the date. Time is always moving forward a little too fast.  I think I would be less fearful if I had better time management skills.

Today, all I really did was read Watchmen.  Cody loaned me his copy late last night, and I got a few pages in before a late bedtime.  Got up nice and late, and my mid-afternoon, I was well over halfway through.  Running out of a few household essentials - food among them - necessitated a trip to the store, which required me to change out of my PJs.

With my nightly Bible reading a blog post still to do, I was closing in on the ending when the phone rang.  Turns out the person who was going to teach Sunday School tomorrow is sick, and in the end, it fell to me to prepare something for tomorrow morning.  With a small number of teachers available and the number of things we have going on - Sunday School, children's ministry, and a mission committee meeting - situations like this will arise very occasionally.

Michael tells us to keep something ready to teach, just in case.  "Have something in your pocket" is how he puts it.  When the call came, I thought I had nothing.  After a browse through my journals and notes, however, a plan has formed.  Those few minutes of panic, however, called me to account.

So, I'm going to work on translating whatever mental discipline allows me to read an inch-thick graphic novel in a day into my study time, my devotions, and my prayers.  I already have that kind of focus in one area, and I want it in another.  I'll be working on that.

Dude, Who Shot Me?

Once again, the boys gathered at Pastor Holmes' place to play Call of Duty on the XBox. This is the second time just recently that I've had a laugh-out-loud good time with a group of guy friends pretending to shoot each other. The girls tend to leave the room.

The Call of Duty series, and other games like it, offers two things guys love: violence and competition. There's some odd appeal to launching a grenade far across a field to land at your friend's feet, who you didn't even see, but who would have done the same to you if he had the chance. I also appreciate that while the games have big, loud guns, the gore is quite minimal. The latest installment ramps it up quite a bit, but it's still fantasy violence, where only your pride gets hurt when you get shotgunned.

Really, it's not to be overthought. It's just dang fun.

Of Dogs

Tonight was another amazing night at Bible study. Ashley's lesson was out of Mark 7:24-30, one of the most challenging passages in the Bible. In it, Jesus miraculously heals a pagan woman's daughter because she comes to him with extreme humility. It's a very deep story, with a lot of cultural and historical subtleties - which, in the context of the original story, weren't subtle at all. We focused mainly on two ideas: that Jesus offends the proud, but shows mercy on the humble.

I tend to be less humble with my desires and more passive-aggressive. If I want something I don't have, I'll more often settle into feelings of entitlement and self-pity rather than going to the God who loves me and asking, knowing that He's already given me more good things than I deserve. I really should know better by now. Especially with the way God has been answering prayer at Crossroads.

"You want something but don't get it," James writes. "You kill and covet, but you cannot have what you want. You quarrel and fight. You do not have, because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures." (James 4:2-3)

It's easy for me to remember that I'm the scum of the earth, and I deserve death over blessing. I just can't seem to keep that fact and this one in my head at the same time: God is gracious, generous and, again, actually loves me. One or the other, I can comprehend with no problem. But the two ideas don't go together in my head, because of my backwards, performance-based concept of love.

Humility is both recognizing oneself as broken, and accepting the love offered by a perfect God.

A New Twist on an Old Favorite

Some of you hypothetical readers may have guessed my intent by now. I plan to write a post on this blog every day for Lent, Sundays excluded. But you're supposed to give something up, right? Really, I'm giving up my excuses not to write.

Why this for the season leading up to Easter? Why not fast, as others do?

As I see it, the very idea of fasting for Lent is to honor Jesus' sacrifice by making a token sacrifice of our own. And the point of any religious observance should be to intentionally draw closer to God. Not only is writing daily a sacrifice of time and effort, but I believe it will help my relationship with God. It will take discipline, which I know he wants me to develop. Then there's the fact that I think I was built for it.

There's this idea deeply rooted in Christianity that each of us was created with a specific purpose in mind. I can't shake the feeling that writing is part of my purpose. I got a little chill as I wrote that last sentence. I really want to find out how I can serve God with what writing ability I have, whether it be explaining theology or merely piecing words together for the sake of beauty. Or telling fanciful stories that ring true. Definitely got a chill as I wrote that.

Some fiction. Some essays. Maybe a couple poems, and a couple life updates. The posts will be varied, and only a few will be about Easter. But Lent is the reason for the flood of content. Instead of giving something up this year, I'm taking something on.

I Don't Remember Asking

I've observed that we Americans are connoisseurs of everything. I've actually had conversations with people about which restaurant's soda fountain has the best mix of syrup and water. On a couple occasions. With different people.

It's easy to see how a highly affluent consumer culture can lead to that kind of gourmet thinking. Amusing though it may be, there's another side that I feel is getting a little out of control. I see it in myself, and pretty much everyone else I know. We're all seasoned consumers. It takes some doing to impress some of us.

And we're all critics.

I just caught up on Heroes, which I thoroughly enjoy. There were a few moments during the latest episode, though, where I shook my head in scorn. "They're using that scene transition? Seriously? Oh, that line was horrible." And so on. I've discussed Sylar's character arc with a few people, and voiced my extreme displeasure with some of the choices the writers have made.

I feel as though I'm somehow qualified to criticize because I've consumed an awful lot of stories, including more than a few superhero stories. I've even written... uh... well, something. Anyway, I feel qualified.

However I may feel, though, I'm not the one who built the characters and their world, cranked out a script, pitched the idea well enough to actually sell it, signed a contract with Universal, and got my material broadcast into millions of homes.

I guess I just wanted to take a second to recognize that, while I might have my opinions and preferences, my writing isn't driving the careers of an entire cast of actors. I will admit, I'm hoping that might change someday.

Reasonable Certainty

Torrents and tides we can predict, and give fair warning to

the misfortunate body-affixed souls in their paths

- unless a levy break, or the ocean floor heave

dislodging peace with water -

to put height or solid shelter between their

fragility and the crush.



And yet the treacherous fluid motion

the steaming reaction of clashing humours

the drunken roll and pitch

the self-afflicted heaving

the mind-blank, roaring, rigor mortis clutch

of the desire of woman and man

breaks all models

leaving behind shards, and blood.

The New Abolitionists

Sacramento is situated midway between Mexico and Canada on I-5, which is one reason why so many slaves move through the city.

I didn't know.  I thought slavery had been eradicated from the world in the 19th century.  I thought the days were long past when parents sold their daughters into brothels, and people were kidnapped and forced to work without pay.  And until tonight, I thought that by far, most of the people in the sex industry were there voluntarily.

Tonight, my church held a human trafficking information night.  The statistics are horrific.  One estimate from the International Labor Organization places the number of human beings enslaved at this moment at 12.3 million.  We saw pictures of a sweatshop that was raided in California fifteen years ago.  Looked like a normal apartment complex.  You couldn't see the barbed wire fence from the street, or for that matter, the people who slept fifteen to a room.

Spreading awareness is only the beginning.  This isn't another issue that will inflame a few people for a moment and then pass from memory.  From everything I've seen, the church is gearing up for a fight.  There are already organizations doing excellent work, and we intend to join them.  Here are a few.

Agape International Missions

Courage to be You

World Hope International

Further information can be found in the State Department's Traffcking in Persons Report 2008, and on the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime website.

Whippersnapper

Sometimes, I feel old for 25.

In stark contrast to a few years ago, there's only one night a week I can reasonably stay up past midnight - Friday, as you might have guessed - and given the option, I often don't.  I've never been a morning person, and I doubt I ever will be, but I have made it work for some time, now.

I was recently part of a discussion about the difference between health and fitness.  To be healthy, the way we typically think of it, is really just to be not-sick.  To be fit is something else altogether, and I can definitely feel the difference.  I'm not dramatically out of shape, but I'm no athlete, either.  Years behind various desks with very minimal exercise in my off hours have seen to that.  One flight of stairs, and my pulse races.  Ten minutes at Sky High, and I need a breather.

I can feel my friendships changing, maybe maturing.  At least, shifting into a more adult mode; that is to say, more occasional.  I just don't see my friends as much as I did in my early college years.  We're all dividing our time between work, school, and at least one other obligation aside from hangout time.  It's normal, but to me, it still seems like a relatively new normal.

I'm getting a sense that I'm entering a time of my life when expectations on me are rising, because of both my age, and my circumstances.  I'm now on staff at my church.  I'm an "analyst" at my day job.  I have more opportunities to make decisions that carry weight.  For whatever reason, that idea also seems relatively novel.

I'm in that odd stage when others, older co-workers especially, alternately treat me like a peer and a youngster.  I still remind women in their forties of their sons, it turns out.  People my parents' age are just now starting to see what my generation is capable of, and some are pretty impressed.  The usual conversation starts out with how easily we pick up technology, then rounds out with how many of us return home in debt.

I've been described as having an "old soul," but I still have some youthful habits and attitudes.  Through it all, my identity is slowly starting to settle.  It can be difficult to accurately track the process from the inside.  If you've got some insight as to how I've changed in recent years, feel free to chime in.

MEMORANDUM

To: Dr. Angelo "Skip" Roth

Time: 3:56 am

Urgent?  X

Dr. Skip:

I'm writing you this note in the hope that we can move past our professional differences.  I'd like to think we can both be adults about this, and see the mutual benefits inherent in the situation at hand.

For example, you have frequently expressed concern for the stability of the project's budget.  I have, as you will no doubt notice, implemented what I consider to be an elegant solution which will significantly reduce costs related to the containment area, and security staffing.

I would truly appreciate your feedback, so I've taken the liberty of scheduling a meeting at your house.  This time, I will be setting the agenda.

Sincerely,

"Lefty" (Subject 332-A)

Lemme tell ya somethin', brother.

Professional wrestling is stupid. I really can't argue with that. But I still find it irresistable.

I am, of course, talking about the fake kind of wrestling: the Hulk Hogan kind, the Stone Cold Steve Austin kind. Fake, however, is an unfair word for what pro wrestlers do. It's not a fight, it's a performance. If you go into the experience expecing that, and if you're willing to play along, it's a whole lot of fun.

As I say that, some of you are wondering what fun there is in watching guys in tights yell into microphones and pretend to wrestle. I can't speak for everyone, but here's what draws me: crazy athleticism.

There are only so many places you can go to see a 300-pound man take off running, leap over the top rope of the wrestling ring - no hands - turn a somersault, and land on the three guys who are standing in their pre-arranged place to break his fall to the cold tile floor.

Many of you have heard me talk about my buddy Drake, who trains with Supreme Pro Wrestling and wrestles as Drake Frost. His finisher - his signature move that usually comes right before the end of the match - is like a ballet move, except you smash your partner to the mat instead of landing gracefully. There's a little spin in there and everything.

One more example. SPW put on a No Rope Lumberjack Match between El Chupacabra and Rik Luxury a year or two ago, in which the ropes were removed from the ring. The "lumberjacks" were two crowds of men, each group friends of one wrestler and hostile to the other, and itching to stomp someone. Luxury was outside of the ring, with his lumberjacks between him and his opponent. El Chupacabra then ran out of the ring onto the shoulders of said lumberjacks, pushing off and tackling Luxury from above.

I still can't figure out why they do it. There guys take some bumps. Drake literally had a handprint on his chest after an SPW show after getting a wicked smack from the Big Ugly. Bones sometimes break. Depending on the match, there may be some blood. It seems like a lot of sacrifice for a little applause, to say nothing of the time spent on training, or driving hours to put on shows in other towns and in other states.

That's the main reason I admire Drake. He's committed. He has an insane dream to actually make it in this industry, and he's making sacrifices to get there. I've never known anyone else willing to work two jobs, then go get dropped on his head by guys bigger than he is in order to get better at his craft. I don't know that I've been that dedicated to anything in my entire life.

So for Drake, and all the guys and girls at SPW, I pray safety and sanity. I pray that God would make sense of their dreams and their drive, and keep them in one piece in the meantime.

Changeover

Today is a tangle of different responsiilities. It's my last day in Human Resources, and it's payday, and there are checks to hand out. One of many responsibilities that will no longer be mine in a scant few hours. Who will handle them is, in many cases, a large hovering question mark.

Tomorrow, I start in the Training Section, where I will occasionally make decisions and use my creativity. On the job. Weird. I'll also get to practice teaching and communicating with technology. It's a pretty amazing opportunity. I can almost hear God chuckling to Himself.

I'm also going to be taking on more responsibilities at church, which are no less exciting. Some teaching, some tech stuff, some other duties as required. Sorry. HR reference. I'm glad for all these chances to serve.

Which are going to lead to me being pretty busy. In addition to all the aforementioned stuff, I've got another ministry class coming up at the end of February. As I recently observed on Twitter, I'm getting to the point that I'm going to have to schedule all my time, both work and play.

Generally, I prefer when I don't have to abide by a strict schedule. I prefer to have free time as often as possible, and in the past, I've gotten depressed when I've had a lot to do at one time, even if it's all good stuff. More and more, though, that's changing. I'm learning how limited time is, and where my priorities are. I'm trying to convince my friends to schedule a weekly time to get together and play games, because if we don't, it probably won't happen.

I'm learning that in the end, leisure isn't a right. Free time is a misnomer. It always costs something. That's not a bad thing. It just means we need to examine our priorities, and evaluate those things we commit ourselves to.

Then, really commit.

Delivering the Weight

Shuffleboard? Actually pretty fun.